#not too intensive of a study i just needed a quick refresher | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

milky-aeons · 11 months ago

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— TRAPPED

౨ৎ . . . in which jean and connie have had enough of you and ARMIN ARLERT'S mutual pining for each other.

warnings: swearing, arranged marriage, sexual content, mdni, w.c 4.8k

♪ . . . ˗ˏˋ ꒰ don't blame me — taylor swift ꒱ ˎˊ-

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐃, long and hard, at the rushed handwriting scrawled over the piece of paper in your gloved hands. Blinking, you read the words again, tumbling over them in your mind — trying to parse them, to make sense of them.

[Name], I really need to see you. Meet me in the military study as soon as you get this. My warmest regards, Armin Arlert.

The final quartet was reaching its crescendo, the violin strings producing quick, exciting notes that instructed the ballroom dancers to jump and spin. From your little corner of the dancefloor you had so graciously managed to escape to — away from anyone who wished to take your hand to dance — you studied the letter. It had just been handed to you by a waiting boy, informing that it had been left on his tray.

Me? You thought, and the creases on your face deepened. You looked up to scan the dancefloor. But you had just seen him, flocked by a gaggle of women, merely a few moments ago. Of course, you would have liked to say you hadn't been spending nearly every moment of this Queen's Ball tracking the Commander with your eyes wherever he went. But you couldn't, because that would be a lie. And you also could not deny the aching in your chest, the flutter of your pulse, when you would glance over at him and briefly — briefly, catch his bright eyes already watching you.

But that is as far as you would allow it to go. You could not let yourself to dream, to imagine what it would be like to have him as yours. For you were already engaged to be married. A loveless reunion, it was, but that did not matter. What mattered was how it bolstered the family ties, how it kept your noble blood strong and pure, how it guaranteed your future with stability.

I really need to see you.

My warmest regards.

When your eyes could not find him among the throng did you glance back to the letter and read it for the umpteenth time. Perhaps, if you turned it upside down and read it from that angle, then you would find your common sense among the strokes of ink. It had to be a mistake. Of course, it did. The recently adorned 15th Commander had never had any reason to reach out to you before — why would he start now? With a letter that had so much urgency and intimate undertones, at that.

You bit your lip. Heat was prickling under your cheeks, warming your fingers underneath the satin gloves. Return it to the waiter, a small voice belonging to your rational side hissed, it it clearly meant for somebody else. Do not make assumptions.

His sapphire-blue eyes were in your mind again, looking at you with that calculative intensity which came so naturally to him. That smart stone-grey suit he had worn tonight, one which hugged his lean body so tantalisingly, making it so gods damned difficult not to stare. Suddenly, your tailored ballroom gown was much too tight, the lace ribbons of your corset aching to be undone.

Suddenly, you could barely remember your promised suitors face.

Suddenly, you had folded the little piece of paper at the seam and slotted it neatly into your hand purse. The only evidence you had left of your departure was a slim, half-emptied champagne glass bubbling on the refreshment's table and the echoes of your quick heeled steps departing the ballroom floor.

Armin Arlert had learned, through both years of being suspended in a constant fear of his life, and recently, an upgrade of rank to Commander, to hold his composure. Like anything, once he had broken it down to the fundamentals, exercising the skill had become almost second nature to him.

It was funny how, with just a few simple words, that such intricately woven composure could be shred to mere ribbons.

Armin, I really need to see you. Meet me in the military study as soon as you get this. My most affectionate regards, Lady [Name]

He had excused himself from the main ballroom floor the moment a small, petite waiting girl had shyly passed him the letter — informing him it was addressed with his name. Not his title, like so many other exhausting correspondence he'd had to get used to, but his name.

Like a reflex action, his quick mind was already flitting through the possible people who could be behind the mysterious letter as he cracked its wax seal and unfurled the page. Mikasa, perhaps inviting him over for dinner. He hadn't had a chance to go visit her and the new baby these past couple of weeks, with all of the work. Or it could very well be Gabbie, or Falco, or another one of the settled soldiers far from the Capital.

When he saw your name, signed in a quick script at the end of the small piece of paper, Armin Arlert almost tripped over his own two feet.

He gasped, holding the letter in his two hands and raising it closer to his face. Reading it again, reading it for a third time, each word making his blond brows raise higher over the lip of the page.

His attention kept snagging on one sentence — your voice blooming in his head like a sweet song, forming around the words, making his blush explode from the nape of his neck all the way to his ears.

My most affectionate regards.

"Oi, Commander!"

Armin jumped out of his stupor and whirled around, plastering the letter to the small of his back.

"Y-Yes!"

Jean Kirschtein was leaning out of the glass doors which led to the Palace Gardens, nursing a bottle of expensive wine to his chest. He regarded his friend for a moment, taking in the red glow on his cheeks and the tousled hair — evidence of his hand raking through it.

Jean smirked, drawling, "Uh oh, looks like someone's had too much to drink. You feelin' okay there, Fifteenth? You gonna start trying to kiss me, again?"

Armin narrowed his eyes. "When did I ever try to kiss you?"

"Whoopsie. Sorry," Jean shrugged his shoulders. "What happens in Marley, stays in Marley, huh?"

Acutely aware of the letter held in his almost vice-grip, Armin's mind was reeling, trying to think about two different scenarios at once. The most immediate; how to steer Jean's attention away from what he was hiding, for the Commander knew and knew well how perceptive those honey-gold eyes were. And the most serious;

What was he going to do about this letter?

What could the man do, when it was sent by the woman who was the object of all his deepest, most darkest desires? The very noble lady he could never muster up the courage to face — hell, he has battled with man-eating monsters, has been burnt alive and reborn, and yet still — the very notion of asking for your hand just for a dance arrested him to the spot.

It was more than just a simple infatuation. These feelings he had for you, they were colossal, bordering on almost obsessive. Enough to contest with the overwhelming connection he had with Annie. All that existed in his head, his fantasies, was you, you, you.

Really, what other option was a man in love left to take?

"Ah, you know what," Armin faked a pained sound. For extra theatrics, he made sure to sway a little, holding his palm to his forehead. "Maybe I did drink a little too much. The wine was really good."

"Well, you ain't gettin' any of this." His friend said, hugging the bottle more protectively. "Come on, get back in here. Your fans miss you."

At the mention of all the well-decorated ladies lying in wait for him to return, only to barrage him with marriage proposals and how good of a wife they would be for him, the wince Armin experienced did not need to be faked.

"Actually," He interjected when he passed by Jean. After, with a quick slight of his hand, shoving the little square page into his suit pocket. "I think I might... find somewhere quiet to sit down, for a while. Could you tell the guests I will be back soon?"

Jean cocked a brow. Then spluttered, shaking his head. "You never stop surprising me, Armin. There's a whole army of pretty ladies out there ready to jump your bones and you're scurryin' off somewhere. I mean, man. You're killin' all us, here!"

Armin gave a weak chuckle, the fleeting thought of they may be pretty, but they are not the lady I want rushing through his mind. With a little bow of his head to Jean did he slip by him, politely excusing himself from any stray women flagging him down for a dance.

Jean turned to watch him disappear amidst the sea of people — his golden hair unmistakable amongst them all. He curbed an eager group of military soldiers, then ducked underneath the shallow alcove which brought him to the main halls of the Palace.

Hook, line, sinker!

There was a rustling of fabric from behind when someone emerged from the heavy, luxurious curtains that would be used to draw across the balcony door. A head of stone-grey hair popped out.

"Did they bite?" Connie Springer hissed, his eyes wide, excited. At the answering smirk tugging at Jean's lips, he knew their little operation had been a success.

"Like two damn idiots in love." Jean said. Then jerked his head in an urgent gesture towards the alcove. "Come on. We gotta be quick."

"I bet 20 bucks he doesn't make a move."

"I raise ya 30 that he does."

Connie's grin was wide and toothy. "You son of a bitch. You're on."

And the two smartly-dressed soldiers made haste, ducking and weaving through the spinning dancers after their so-called drunken Commander, something metal glinting in Connie's pocket.

You had never dared venture the halls of Queen Historia's Palace on the rare visits you had made to the very inner walls. There was practically a member of her private guard stationed at each corner, under every painting, leaving no inch unwatched. It was just fortunate for you that the military lounge had not been far from the main hosting ballroom. The filthy stares those soldiers had been subjecting your way would have probably made you burst, if otherwise.

The little room was windowless. It was just large enough to hold an elite inner circle, with large panelled chairs stationed around a vast table displaying a map of Paradis Island. Although definitely not as grand as the one overseeing the dancers back in the hall, there was a quaint, dainty chandelier hanging from the ceiling, spreading its fingers of gentle light along the walls.

It was, altogether, a charming space.

It was also robbing every morsel of air from your lungs.

To distract yourself from your hammering heartbeat, you had begun to circle around the table, touching the tip of your gloved finger to the parchment and dragging it along. He was not here. It was an obvious fact that was becoming more and more crushing the longer you waited, the more of those dreadful minutes trickled by. You tried to breathe. You tried to focus on the ink pots and the golden compasses. Focusing with all your might not to entertain the terrifying thought;

Have you been tricked?

Was this a ploy, an awful game set up by some of those fawning women that wouldn't leave him alone all night — that somehow, knew of the depths of your feelings for the Commander? It was easy to disregard in the beginning. This was one of your most intimate secrets that you have never breathed to a soul — how could they know? But the ticking from the grandfather clock got louder, pushing you alone that little cliff of despair. With each second came a new possibility:

Did they see you looking at him?

Did they notice how you rarely spent time with your designated suitor and decided to hide away?

Did you stare?

Did they catch your hateful looks when they put their hands on his shoulder?

For five long minutes, you circled the room. Until the racing in your mind became too much to bare and the panic surged. Biting your lip to hold back your tears, you decided you have had enough of this, and crossed the room to retrieve your purse—

There was a whine of metal, a click of a latch unpinning, and the oak door to the military study was slowly pushed open.

The crown of his golden hair poked in first as he peeked into the room — hesitant, almost unsure. You were frozen right to the spot when his blue eyes lifted to scan the room and immediately locked onto you.

You stared.

He stared.

For a precious moment in time, nothing — not the summer swallows, the airy breeze, the sway of the crystals above — nothing dared interrupt this moment.

Until both of you did. At the exact same time.

"Uhm—!"

"Commander—!"

The words died in each of your throats.

"I just—!"

"I received—!"

You stopped again, holding your hand up to your mouth. It was unstoppable, the little smile that was breaking out there against your will. The first words you have ever properly spoken to the man who occupied your thoughts, your heart, and this is what you were coming out with. Truly, it was ridiculous. Although your heart gave a painful lurch against your ribcage when you saw his soft little smile in return, too.

"I apologise," Armin tried again, and you were sure to keep your mouth shut this time. He pushed the door open just enough to slip inside, turning to shut it quietly behind him. "We're perfectly in synch, it seems."

"Oh, I would not say that." You said, taking your hand from your mouth but retaining the small smile there. "I think if I am in perfect synch with a Commander, I am doing a good job."

He chuckled a low, polite sound. It was only then that he had stepped fully into the room and you had the full, heart-shattering impact of his presence.

Oh, but he was breath-taking. Standing there at his full height in a proud, strong stance that squared his shoulders and spoke volumes about his warrior days. Everything about what he wore was tailored to shape him, but the one thing he left unruly was his hair — parted in the middle, softly resting against his forehead. You felt your mouth go dry, your tongue pasted to the roof of your mouth.

You clasped your hands in front of you tightly to stop from fidgeting. "You wished to see me?" You said casually, but it sounded more like a squeak.

Armin's eyebrows drew a little. "Was it not the opposite way around? You were the one who wished to see me?"

Now it was your turn to tilt your head, frowning. "But you stated in your letter," You began, reaching down for your purse and undoing the ribbon holding it closed. You produced the folded little page for him to see. "That you wished to see me, so I came at first's notice."

He stared at the letter in your gloved hand for longer than you thought appropriate. Especially for somebody who had written it and addressed it to you. Then, something flashed in his sapphire eyes, like a spark to a flame.

His strong shoulders dropped a fraction when he sighed — reaching up to cover his eyes.

"I can't believe them."

You parted your lips, lowering the letter. "Pardon me?"

Armin dragged his hand from his eyes up through the tresses of his hair, letting them fall back down haphazardly. He avoided looking your way as he said, "My friends seem to have a funny sense of humour. I am very sorry, Lady [Name]."

And then, wordlessly, did the Commander reach into his back suit pocket and produce a very similar, slightly crumpled piece of paper and held it in the air. "You see, I also got a letter that was addressed to me from you, telling me that you had to meet me here."

The pin finally dropped for you.

"Oh," You said, a little dumbly. "But, why would — why would they choose me... to play their little joke?"

"Because—" Armin began, but his words seemed to lose their way, hanging in the air like an unrequited promise. You stared at him with wide eyes, blinking, wondering if the rose tinting his ears was real or a figment of your imagination. "Because—" He tried again, inhaled, then let out a very frustrated breath. "Really, I can't believe them."

He reached up to rub the back of his neck — a neck that you could see was stained a very pretty red — and turned on his heel. "I am really sorry about this." He repeated again, reaching for the handle.

Something instinctive overtook you at the sight of him leaving — of running, for a reason you did not dare hope. The pieces were slotting into place faster than you could stop them and the elation that came afterwards was a dizzying, dangerous feeling.

The words wait were almost out of your mouth, but Armin got their first. It was not with words, however, but a sharp sound of surprise following the creaking of a locked door. Trying again, Armin pulled, getting the same response.

"It... is locked?" You blurted.

Armin's broad shoulder muscles were tense — like that of a bowstring pulled taut. You watched them as they shifted with his breaths underneath the grey suit. He leaned forward to rest his head on the door panel. You could not hear the chaotic screaming of his thoughts, of course, and perhaps that was a good thing. Especially when they centred around images of Jean Kirschtein and his accomplice Connie Springer being kicked into a ditch.

He was going to kill them. No, he was going to demote them. He'd—

"Armin?"

His eyes snapped open at the shy tone — under-currented by something, something he thought he had imagined. He had to. But you had addressed him without his formal title. He turned around to face you, his eyes imploring.

"Lady [Name]," He breathed in a rush. "I'm s—"

"Why did they choose me?" You repeated.

Armin squared his shoulders and wished that the door would swallow him whole. Like he was facing off with an enemy, a beast — and not a woman he was madly in love with, looking at him with a fire in her eyes that licked wickedly up his spine.

Fire?

She had placed her bag down on a nearby chair that surrounded the main table. He stared into your eyes, your face, trying desperately to figure out what you were thinking. He could always figure out what someone was thinking — but not you. Never you, because every time he looked at you, his mind became a blissful, eddying white noise.

You were approaching him slowly, cautiously, your eyebrows slanting a little over those beautiful eyes. "Armin, tell me." You whispered. "Why they wanted to lock you in here with me."

There was a foot between you now — you, gazing up into the Commanders wide eyes. Him, staring down at you, breathing in quick, shallow breaths. As if he were readying himself for something. As if you robbed every bit of air from his body and the only way he was ever going to get it back was if he—

It was a series of rapid movements that blurred into one moment, one feeling, and that was the firm grip of a male hand around your wrist at your side and pressure on your mouth. Your eyes went wide — he was so close, you could see every fine line of his skin, his eyelashes on his eyes that he scrunched shut. So stunned, you did not have enough time to register what was going on — that Commander Armin Arlert had rushed forward to place a chaste kiss on your lips.

You gasped into his mouth, and he reeled away.

As if burned.

Armin had an expression of a man wounded. Of someone who could not believe what he had just done.

"I—" He whispered. "I—"

You did not think. You did not even move nor speak a word. But neither did he, because you had reached up with your gloved hand and pulled him back down by the nape of his neck.

The collision was sudden and clumsy. It was a sliding of two lips together that had thought of this moment together, over and over again until it drove them half mad. Armin's eyebrows pinched together in concentration. He had every sane reason to believe he had passed out somewhere in the Palace Garden and this was what his yearning brain was coming up with. But the way your hair felt when he reached a timid hand up to the back of your neck was so soft, just like he imagined. Your lips were supple. You smelled faintly of lavender and vanilla and it made this Commander's mind spin.

You inhaled sharply when he tilted his head — pressing his lips to yours experimentally. Your knees were loosing feeling as he slid those strong fingers further into your hair. You arched your body up to him, leaning up on your toes to kiss him harder — that even if this were a dream, a mistake, you would take every last bit you could have and treasure it for the rest of your life.

Armin made a muffled sound in the back of his throat and brought his other hand to cradle the side of your head. You licked at the seam of his shy mouth, and he keened, he opened his mouth for you almost instantly and pressed his fingers into your hair — drawing you closer to him.

There was a heat introduced into your kissing, a wild sort of desperation. Armin kissed like a man starved. The first few swipes of his warm tongue against yours was reserved, it was not what you needed. But after he had gained the confidence, he was leaning you back, he was tilting your head in a way that gave him full access to your mouth. To lick. To suck. To nip and bite.

You moaned, gripping onto his suit shoulders.

And for a second time, he reared back — like someone had just slapped him hard out of a daze. When he pulled his mouth from yours they were red and swollen, matching the colour of his flushed cheeks. You stared up into his eyes with desperate confusion.

"What," He panted, sharing his hot breath with you. He still had you held tightly against his hard body. "What—are we doing?"

You shook your head. "I don't know." You whispered. "But—I don't want to stop."

With a sick feeling in your stomach, you thought he would put an end to this. You thought you had made a fool of yourself and he did not feel the same way you did, did not sit up in his bed at night and think of what it would be like to be held like this. Armin gazed down at you with glazed eyes for a very long moment. Long enough for you to think of how wonderful they were — how they reminded you of crushed diamonds and the deepest levels of the sea.

You wanted to drown in them.

You wanted to drown in him.

Slowly, Armin swayed towards you. His head dipped down, inch by inch, until he was a hairs-breath away from your lips.

"Armin." Your whisper was wanton, it was the last thing you said before he swallowed it whole.

You gripped at his gorgeous blond hair you loved to stare at, wondering how it would feel, as he kissed you. It felt so smooth under your clawing fingertips. Armin's hands — so broad, so strong — were confused as to where he wanted to touch you, first. They slid from your neck to your shoulders, to roving down your back and gripping into the fabric of your dress.

It switched something on in the respectful Commander. He was always the gentlemen, but when the realisation finally clicked in his mind that you wanted him, a fierce competitiveness to please curled inside of him. It spurned him on to lead you forward, to walk you backwards until the lip of the table hit your back.

"Sit," Armin whispered against your lips. "Please."

There was no need for him to instruct you twice. In a fluid movement, you hoisted yourself up and onto the table, your dress pooling around you like a pretty satin puddle. Armin breathed heavily, and then dropped down to his knees.

"A-Armin?" You yelped, first in alarm, then in curious confusion when he gazed back up at you. His blue eyes shuttered every time you said his name, like he was hearing it anew each and every time. He rubbed at your ankles in repetitive circles that made your skin burn.

"Can I try something?" He asked, his voice a deep, attractive rumble.

You almost whined at the gravel in his tone. He was there, kneeling before you like a fantasy, the want in his suit pants evident when he spread his legs to balance like that. Gods, he was barely touching you and you were an incoherent mess, nodding clumsily, almost short circuiting when he moved that gentle touch from your ankles to the hem of your dress and underneath it.

He looked at you like you were a puzzle he was determined to solve. A muse he wished to capture perfectly. Slowly, so slowly, did Armin's warm hands push your ballroom dress up just far enough so that it bunched at your hips.

He leaned in to place a kiss on the sensitive inner flesh of your thigh, being as gentle as the flap of a butterfly's wing. Your breath hitched with each kiss he placed. Reached further and further up until—

"Oh!"

Immediately, he pulled back to look at you. "Is this okay?" He murmured.

"Yes," You nodded, needing his mouth back there. "Yes. Yes."

He flashed you this delighted smile that made him look so boyish, it melted you from the very inside. This man would be your undoing. He would be the reason you fell into depravity. And when he return to place a loving kiss in between your thighs, the place where your core was hot and aching, you lurched forward on the high of a broken moan.

Armin placed to hands to steady himself on the table — right at either side of your hips. He kissed you there, then he opened his mouth and gave you a broad, testing lick.

You choked, reaching down to hold onto his hair. To give him better access — to draw him to you, you lifted your legs up and rested them on his hard shoulders.

He hummed. His licks and open-mouthed kisses became messy, greedy. When he reached to push your underwear aside, little white stars coloured your vision when he slipped his tongue inside of you. The groan that ripped up his throat was a guttural, primeval sort of sound, and he went further. He sucked at the sensitive apex, lavishing in the noises you made and the way you instinctively rocked into his mouth. You tasted divine, like his own heady drug he could get addicted to.

Your thighs began to shake — so Armin, always the gentleman, placed his palms on either side and kept you steady. You seemed to arc up into him when he moaned, so he did so again, and again, letting the vibrations against your core drive you wild and push you close to a rapture this love-crazed Commander would go to war for just to see again.

The grip on his hair became so delightfully painful when your rocking became quicker — messy snaps of your hips into his mouth as your pleasure crested. It curved and strained until finally—

"Armin!"

The release was like a cascade of the entire night sky, falling down on top of you both. You were unsure if you had screamed this man's name, Armin, so you cried out again. Letting him lap gently at your pulsing core until the stars returned to the sky and you came back down to him.

He resurfaced from the hot vee of your weakened thighs to lock eyes with yours, once more. Just like he would across the ballroom dancefloor, in the windows of courtyards, each and every time he watched you. The shining around his swollen mouth made your loins clench, and when he smiled, it almost broke you into a million pieces for him and only him to keep.

Months later, an issue of the Berg Newspaper was thrown down forcefully on the table Connie Springer was lounging on.

"Suck it. Pay up." Jean boasted with a shit-eating grin.

On the front page of the latest issue was the large printed text of;

WEDDING BELLS! 15TH COMMANDER TIES THE KNOT

"Cheapskate." Connie grumbled, slapping three bills into the other man's open hand.

#attack on titan #aot #snk #aot x reader #armin arlert #armin arlet x reader #armin arlet smut #armin x reader #🪄— milky writes #‼️ — spoilers #dividers by fireflygraphics!!#💓 — thump

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demlunzel · 3 years ago

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“RADIODUST MAKES NO SENSE! BESIDES AL IS ACE”

Many people who ship radiodust happen to be ace, aro, or both (Including myself as I’m ace). Acearo has a spectrum. There are sex favorable and sex repulsed if u wanna be more generic. For sex favorables, it is often the mental and emotional experience that is most important in terms of attraction. Sex itself is not appealing to us. There are acearo sex workers as well, because as the position implies, it is a job, a performance, a persona. Not actual attraction. Ergo not only can Alastor be shipped with Angel, but Angel themselves can be ace too (Headcanoned obviously). He is under a soul contract after all and likely signed it due to the fact he has no other means of survival.

Angel is usually under some sort of high or intoxicated in some manner. This plus Valentino’s emotional manipulation/abuse and physical abuse and rape, adds onto the fact that none of this is via Angel’s consent. At best sex and drugs are a numb distraction. In the comic, we see a box of toys Angel has. At first, it is labeled “For fun” with a heart. It’s then crossed out and relabeled as Work shit. He’s reaching his breaking point and that distraction isn’t working anymore.

This is only further proved in Addict

If Angel did crave a relationship or ever got into a serious one, his sexual needs wouldn’t be as intense as people portray. He’s had enough of just sex. He wants actual love.

Which by the way

Aroace is, as mentioned before, a spectrum. One can be demisexual and demiromantic and still be considered aroace. This also goes for angled aroaces, who usually only feel attraction once or twice in their life

If Alastor were ever to gain a serious emotional connection with anyone, that would be his main focus. Alastor is one of the few demons in hell that doesn’t want Angel for his body. It’s likely extremely refreshing for Angel, bc then he knows that Alastor’s intentions should they get together, would never be to use him like that.

And in Alastor’s case

Most demons usually view him in three ways;

Someone that should be feared and avoided

Someone that should be feared and treated aggressively as he is a threat

Or, someone with great power and can be used if on his good side

Angel views him in none of those ways.

He never treated him aggressively, nor did he run from him. And he isn’t the type to get involved in more overlord drama

Another thing that bothers me is that people sometimes portray Angel as pushy to get Alastor in bed. Which is just not in character. Out of everyone, Angel knows what it’s like to be forced into sexual situations without one’s consent. And he and Alastor both have a moral code. A fucked up one, but a moral code nonetheless.

During their first meeting, Angel had no way of knowing Alastor wasn’t into that sorta shit, as he just learned about his existence (Likely from constantly being high and drunk all the time since with knowing Vox he should’ve heard Alastor’s name mentioned at some point). Once Alastor turned him down Angel didn’t make any sort of pushy comment or sexual action towards him afterwards. He simply brushed it off saying “Your loss”.

As for personality, despite the two appearing extremely different, they have several similarities as well that balance things out. Both are mischievous, witty, quick mouthed, and would often banter as proved in the hunicast streams. (The VAs may not have them completely accurate, but they have a better understanding of the characters as they are the ones performing as them)

Both Alastor and Angel also lived within the same era. The 20s if you wish to be specific. Alastor died in 1933 whereas Angel died in 1947. It wouldn’t be surprising if Angel himself would listen to the radio quite a bit while alive. Not to mention, music tastes (While still extremely different) could overlap.

And while this is hardly any solid means of evidence, while I was studying Alastor’s heritage (Creole) and voodoo, I stumbled across this

“The spirit of beauty, jewelry, dancing, luxury and flowers”

“She represents the epitome of femininity and compassion”

“Her colors are white and pink”

“Sometimes referred to as angel”

So yeah. There’s that.

While I’m aware they won’t be canon, the dynamic this has along with the character development is too appealing to ignore and I’m tired of ppl shitting on Radiodust as an excuse as to why they just don’t ship it. You don’t have to hate a ship in order to not ship it. Just respect others.

#Hazbin Hotel #Alastor #Angel Dust #Radiodust

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sugurizz · 4 years ago

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The house is yours

Pairing : Zeke yeager x reader

Rating : explicit

Word count : 2,5k words

Summary : as a broke student, finding an apartment is not easy. But the cute owner decides to help you with it, in a way that you both get to benefit.

Warnings : soft dom! Zeke x sub!fem! reader, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, nipple play, slight spit play, vaginal sex, slight breeding kink, daddy kink

(Credits to the owner. I don't own the fanart)

After months of looking through ads, websites and even newspapers. finding a decent, comfortable and cosy appartment near the university was a dream coming true. After calling the owner and fixing a date to meet toghether and check the place, your roommate wasn't able to make it to the appointment so you had to go there on my own.

Being already anxious for the meeting, you put a pair of black jeans, a grey t-shirt, a hoodie and your white sneakers before taking your backbag and going there.

After ten minutes or so, you were at the spot you agreed to meet at. You couldn't see anyone particular so you got your phone out of your pocket, ready to call the owner again in order to spot him.

It was then when you saw a tall, broad and handsome man- probably in his late twenties- picking his ringing phone from the pocket of his elegant beige trench coat.

A black turtleneck hugging his visibly muscular chest and arms left your mouth nearly open. That's definitely him - you thought to yourself - feeling your face already heating up, you swallowed hardly, prayed that you weren't really blushing, took your courage and crossed the road walking towards the little coffee shop he was standing next to.

Standing directly in front of him didn't help at all. You were so overwehlmed by him. and to be frank, you didn't really know where to look. His whole presence was doing things to you, is it His charming glance? his icy grey eyes, ornamented with a set of thick blonde lashes shinig softly in the feeble sunlight? Or is it those silky soft blonde locks, joined in a nice haircut making his enchanting appearence even more perfect and complete?

"Hello, I assume you're the new renter. Very nice to meet you. I'm zeke yeager ."

"Likewise, pleased to meet you mr yeager. I'm y/n ".

You tried your best to keep calm and professional by greeting him. But the trembling handshake you gave him was showing the complete opposite.

"Shall we go see the appartment ? This way please."

Were you too infatuated by such grace? Or is he really such a sweet, soft and courteous gentleman? You couldn't really tell.

You took a quick glance at his gorgeous profile side. And you completely wished you could take a screenshot with your eyes. His prominent cheekbones added to his manly features. And his fine silver glasses gave him that elegant intellectual aura.

The silence was broken by a deep, gentle :" so.. you're both students.. right?"

" yes. good thing the house is around 10 minutes from the university. That should save us plenty of time ."

" glad to hear that, I actually studied there for more than 6 years, that was before I finally graduated and decided to move to (city name) ."

" I see. May I ask.. why did you move? " you demanded.

" haha don't worry. It hasn't to do with the apartment. It's just that.. You can say I'm an adventurous man." He answered with a bright smile.

" right. I guess it's always tempting to move and see something new..."

You never thought a conversation with a total stranger could be this smooth, warm and relaxing. It unexpectedly didn't feel like a forced out, awkward smalltalk at all. But more like a nice and slow getting to know each other.

"We're finally here." He opened the building's door, Letting you inside and pressed the elevator button.

" I see you like the place already.." He affirmed, a soft smile graced his features, leaving you bewitched.

"Y-yes .. it's pretty welcoming." You added.

Getting out of the elevator, the cute owner took the apartement keys out, opening the door and letting you in.

After checking all the house's functionalities and facilities and discussing the period of your rent. You were ready to pay the first month of the stay until you got surprised by the deposit price. You were so shocked that you had to pay around two thousand five hundrend dollars along with the actual rent.

" I'm not sure we can actually afford that.. " I said, feeling somehow disappointed and lost.

" I know, a lot of people complain about the deposit price. I wish I could make an exeption but the price is fixed by the building's owner. He has the majority of control over that."

" and.. I guess it can't be payed in installments. can it ?"

" i'm afraid not." He retorted, quite concerned by your defeated aura.

" that's really infortunate. I was looking forward to settle here. But anyway, it was good getting to know you mr Yeager."

Hiding your frustration, you were ready to leave when his calm, reassuring voice stopped you . " maybe , we can help each other out after all..."

You turned back, looking for a further explanation when he carried on :" I can get to pay the deposit for you. And you'll have to give me a service in return.."

"okay.. and the service is ...? " you asked, being both curious and excited.

The blonde walked to the door and locked it, his silver eyes never leaving yours.

"Mr yeager..."

" Oh can we stop with the formalities now little one. If we finally agree to make a deal we should get more familiar to each other. Shouldn't we ?" He let out in a deep virile voice, causing your heart to throb numerous times.

Walking closer towards you, he stood and leaned over, whispering in your ear : " If I said I'm feeling sad and lonely today, Would you agree to entertain me ?"

He was so close you could barely register his request. Close enough to notice his irises fixed on yours, staring at your soul and then travelling a little downwards, presumably staring at your lips. You were ready to explode when his big hand landed on your chin, long slender fingers carressing it and driving you so crazy you started babbling some nearly inaudible nonsense.

" i mean.. I.I could ... I don't know.. I-"

" shh, no need to get confused, I'm here with you". a calloused thumb landed on your lips, caressing them with a gentle yet insisting motion.

Your mind shut down, leaving you comptelely blank. God, you got lost in his eyes again. You kept staring like an idiot, letting his thumb make its way through your lips and next thing you knew you were feeling his finger on your sensitive tongue. You never did this before. But why did it feel so natural with him ? Why didn't you resist at all ? How did you agree to this ? Questions kept bringing on other questions inside your crushed mind. The betraying heat kept rising to your cheeks by the minute, and you couldn't control your intense breathing anymore.

You felt like a fragile leaf caught in a storm. Your consciousness stopped reacting when his face started closing up to yours.

" I believe we got ourselves a deal then? "

" i.. I mean-"

The blonde's delicious lips crushed on yours in a swift motion, his huge hands left to pull you closer pushing you against his large warm chest and making you feel so small and helpless.

It didn't take long for you to feel his soft warm tongue playing with yours. His refreshing minty breath was mixed with a faint hint of cigarette. You couldn't help but enlace your arms around his neck, trying to regain some balance. The sloppy wet kiss you shared ended with your mouths parting in a wet noise, a glistening string of saliva connecting his dark red tongue to yours, Leaving you breathless.

"You're rather shy and blushy princess... I like it." Zeke leaned close to your sensitive neck, started peppering kisses from your cheeks down your neck and all around your clavicle . His warm breath on your exposed chest made you shiver, feeling your wetness already pooling between your legs. You started rubbing your thighs toghether in a search for some relief. The sudden thought of the rent crossed your mind again.

" Zeke .."

" yes sweetheart, say my name "

" what about the rent ... what should I do now ?"

"little pumpkin is still afraid." You trembled when he leaned over to lick your earlobe before carrying " consider this house yours, princess " .

You couldn't hide your relief after hearing his words. You looked back at him, the perfect pale skin of his cheeks turned into a lovely shade of pink. His cute ears were so red you thought they were about to blow off. His glasses were threatening to fall off the cute tip of his sharp nose. And you felt so proud seeing the mess you left at his golden strands. Some of them falling sexily on his eyes.

" I need this off" he tugged at your shirt , raising your arms gently and sliding it up your shivering body. It was so embarrassing you instantly hid your face. Letting out some insatisfied whines.

"gorgeous" he lets out, eyes contemplating your breasts, still hidden behind your bra. Still closing your eyes, you felt yourself being lifted in a bridal style. Zeke's strong arms placed you on the comfy couch of the living room. He stood up and took of his coat, throwing it away. His black pullover was next, revealing his toned chest, shredded abs and prominent V line . You wished you could keep this addictive view in yout mind forever. His godly body hovered around you like a shield. You leaned back , staring at the enchanting male before you, unbuckling his belt.

You were probabely too distracted by his beauty to notice the huge tent that was forming in his pants. His hand reached beneath his boxers, freeing his massive cock from it's confinements.

" like what you see ?" He winked at you, leaving you speaking gibberish again.

" zeke...it- it's not gonna .."

He cut you out, taking off your jeans in a quick move, leaving you in your black laced panties. " already soaked aren't we? What kind of a slut gets her pussy that wet just from a damn kiss?"

He rubbed his fingers against your clothed cunt before swiping your panties to the side. your clit was swollen and flushed, desperate for attention. The handsome male leaned until he faced your pussy. He spread your legs even wider, adding to your growing embarassment.

" goshh, look at how much slick is between your pussy lips,..filthy.." he slid his fingers between them.

Never leaving your innocent eyes, he puckered his lips, opened his mouth and spat on your naked pussy. You nearly passed out when he started french kissing it. Looking at it with such hunger and lust, he slid his longue tongue in your fluttering hole, driving his index and middle fingers in the process. His thick and now wet beard felt so good stinging your plush thighs.

" zeke ahhh, wait... omg zeke it feels.. Ahhhh " your moans started getting louder and louder.

"Whine for me baby.."

His experienced fingers massaged your spongey insides, hitting spots you never knew your pussy had. You were drooling like a dumb baby, eyes rolling to the back of your head and breath hitching in your breast.

"Zeeeeke.. uh- i'm ahh i'm gonna cum, it feels so good... so good i'm cumming .."

"Yes baby, cream on my fucking tongue."

It wasn't long until you released all over his hand, his tongue was painted with cum. He shamelessly swallowed it, licking his fingers passionately as if he was tasting an elixir. He leaned to kiss you again, cum and drool still running down his messy beard. Its cute hairs tickling your cheeks and chin made you chuckle.

He took your dripping panties away, threw them somewhere across the room and slid his hands below your back, unclasping your bra.

" I need to take it off, but I really do like the cute ribbons though..." he complimented your cute bra.

" t-thank youu.." the shyness creeped inside you again. But it was replaced with surprise when he buried his head deep between your breasts like a starving baby. growling and grunting, the vibrations sent shivers down your spine. He kept lapping at them, looking at you with burning lust, taking a nipple between his teeth and flicking the other under his fingerpads.

"Are you ready, sweet pie? Wanna take my cock for me ?"

"Y-yes"

"Yes who ?"

"Yes daddy ."

"It's daddy from now on, little one"

Feeling yourself , yu bent over for him, giving him a perfect view of your bare cunt.

" hurry daddy, I can't wait anymore..."

"As you wish, princess"

Within seconds, you felt his hands settling on your hips, his firm cock sliding slowly past your hungry hole.

" it hurtss, daddy .. it hurts..."

" shh, it's ok princess, you're too tense.. relax for daddy.."

The pain suddenly turned into a pure bliss as he bottomed down, making you moan his name like a lullaby.

"I'm going to move baby.." he said, cupping your cheek in his soft palms.

His cock was ramming inside you so deliciously you felt your drool dribbling again, his strong silhouette leaning on you, hugging you with one arm and caressing your stomach with the other. Seeing his bulge through your tummy, you felt so full and loved by him.

" look baby, look how deep i'm inside you"

" please cum inside me daddy, I want it pumping in my stomach ."

your words sent him to the edge; hitched breath, loud growls and harsh slaps landing on your ass. It felt so good your tears started gushing along your face.

" hnnghhh wanna take ... fuck ahhh .. take daddy's seed inside you ? Tell me slut " he squeezed your face between his large fingers, earning a whine from you.

" mmhmmm ... ahhhh"

" use your words when you talk to me"

" I want your cum deep inside me, daddy"

His thrusts became hysteric, making you shake. both of you moaning loudly, not caring about anybody hearing.

"Ahhhnghhh shiiiit , fuck yeaaah" the golden daddy came in thick white strings inside you. Shoving it all up your womb. You give up, letting your orgasm wash over you in a shameless moan. All your juices mixed with his sticky huge load, starting to spill from your greedy cunt.

Unable to move anymore, you collapsed on the couch. Trembling and breathing heavily. Zeke doing the same, he went to catch his neglected coat and wrapped it around your naked body, along with his strong arms around you, nuzzling his head in your neck.

" I guess having an expensive rent has its perks after all". He teased, laying a soft gentle kiss on your forehead.

" yup, you get to have a daddy for free". You whispered.

Note : I would really appreciate the feedback on my work so feel free to comment down.

#zeke yeager #zeke jäger #zeke jeager #zeke jeager x reader #zeke yeager smut #zeke yeager x reader #zeke yeager imagine #zeke thirst #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot #aot smut #fics #snk #zeke x reader #icymi

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spencers-renaissance · 3 years ago

Text

I turn and reach for you

Summary: Three months after Hankel, Spencer starts getting terrible nightmares that keep him up at night. He tries desperately to keep his secret until one day when it's all too much to bear anymore. Luckily, Derek Morgan is there to hold him together as he falls apart.

Tags: nightmares, hurt/comfort, ptsd, angst with a happy ending, fluff, literal sleeping together, getting together, post-revelations TW: past non-con drug use mentioned once in passing

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 2.1k

Masterlist // Read on AO3 // Bad Things Happen Bingo

This feels the "Nightmares" square on my Bad Things Happen bingo card, and was written for this prompt by @i-write-whump. Title from a poem by Devon Strang.

After Spencer is kidnapped by Tobias Hankel, he stays with Derek. Nobody on the team wants him to be alone, and he’s always felt the most comfortable with him, so it makes sense. Besides, he’s got the space.

Spencer sometimes wonders whether the team pushed so hard for it because they genuinely believed that, logistically, Derek was the best option, or because they could also see the slow-burning romance simmering under the surface of their relationship. They’ve always had a special friendship, but Spencer can feel the growing tension: the deep and intense looks they share mid-case, the lingering touches on backs and arms, the affection leaking into each ‘pretty boy’ and every ‘Der’.

Perhaps if Hankel never came into the picture they’d already be together — it really had felt like they were on the precipice of something special — but it’s three months later and Spencer’s still sleeping in the spare room; there’s still just as much will they, won’t they lingering in the air between them.

He tries not to mind too much. After all, he’s never had so much free access to the man he’s pined after for years now, and they’re living in each other’s pockets. Almost every waking hour is spent in one another’s company: they cook together, eat together, watch films together, and neither of them are showing any sign of getting sick of it. But every time they’re cooking pasta and Derek says something ridiculous, Spencer wishes he was allowed to lean in and kiss the tip of his nose; every time they sit down to watch something together, he wishes he could burrow into his side and rest his head in the crook of his neck.

(Sometimes, Spencer wishes he could rewind to the weeks immediately after the Hankel incident when Derek would carry him around the flat to keep him off his broken feet; when he could press his face into his shoulder and inhale the scent of complete and utter safety.)

It’s almost torturous, being so close yet so far.

He isn’t quite sure why the nightmares start so late. The nights during the first couple of months are blissfully dreamless, so exhausted from the physical and emotional trauma that sleep was a tantalising escape, but once he’s back in the field, once normal life resumes, everything changes.

The first time he wakes up sweating and panting, heart pounding as he tries to convince himself that he’s no longer in Hankel’s clutches but is safe and sound in Derek’s apartment, he dismisses it as a one-off. He hasn’t had nightmares yet, so why should they start now? He doesn’t go back to sleep that night, too shaken to relax back into the comforting embrace of sleep, too afraid of deception: that he wouldn’t sleep dreamlessly but that the nightmare would be waiting for him once again.

The second time worries him. He gets up this time and gets a glass of water as quietly as possible, leaning with his back against the kitchen counter as he ponders what this could mean for him. The thing is, they’re so incredibly vivid. It really feels like he’s back at the mercy of a three-in-one torturer armed with drugs and belts and guns, genuinely unsure of whether he’ll ever see his family again. He doesn’t go back to sleep this time, either, instead pacing around the living room until Derek wakes up. He lies that he’s only been up for half an hour, and Derek believes him.

The third time solidifies for Spencer the fact that this is a problem. Three is a pattern, everybody knows that, and Spencer spends the rest of the night scouring the internet for studies conducted around delayed trauma responses and discovers the prevalence of delayed-onset PTSD. He’s tempted to contact a professor he met during his third PhD who specialised in the psychology of trauma, but he thinks better of it. Admitting these nightmares would be admitting defeat.

This is something he has to deal with alone.

(He ignores the truth that it’s more fear than anything else that keeps him from telling anyone: fear of being seen as weak, fear of nothing changing, fear of voicing his trauma out loud. It’s easier to pretend it’s about independent agency.)

It doesn’t affect him too much at first. Sure, he’s scared to go to sleep and he sweats so profusely that it soaks through his bedsheets almost every night, but he’s managing. He’s okay. He contributes just as much to their profiles and takes down unsubs without flinching. He dances around Derek like they have done for over a year, and he sits through Dr Who marathons with Penelope just fine. So what if he’s a bit tired? He’s stared down some of America’s Most Wanted and interviewed famous serial killers, he can cope with a little fatigue.

It doesn’t stay that easy for long.

Soon everybody’s asking about the bags under his eyes, his slower reaction times when they visit the gun range, his twitchiness around the team.

“Are you sleeping okay, Spencer?” Penelope asks him one day, brushing a curly lock of hair behind his ears as they sit side by side on the sofa next to a conked out Derek.

He can’t nod his head quick enough. “Yeah! Yes, uh. Yes, Penelope, I’m sleeping fine, I promise,” he says as convincingly as he can, flashing her a smile. He hates lying to her, but he can’t let anyone find out, he just can’t.

Slowly, he begins losing his grip on reality. He’s almost delusional from the sleep deprivation, and he starts seeing Hankel everywhere he goes. He’s stood behind the fridge door, in the foyer of the FBI Headquarters, in the toilets of a local police station, stood right behind the unsub they’re currently trying to talk down, goddamnit.

He’s beyond exhausted, but some nights he still refuses to sleep, too afraid of what awaits him in his dreams, too afraid of the fear he knows he’ll carry into the next day, too afraid of feeling weak again. Helpless. Completely and utterly without agency.

He sits up with his back against the headboard, the main light off but the lamp switched on, scrolling through as many scholarly articles as he can read in a night, drinking cup after cup of steaming black coffee. Most nights he makes it through till morning without sleeping a wink, but sometimes he can’t stop himself from drifting off The nightmares on those nights are the worst.

He isn’t okay and people are starting to notice. Everyone’s walking on eggshells around him right now, but he knows it won’t be long before Penelope organises an intervention that Hotch hosts and Derek directs. The worst part about it is that he feels like a trainwreck waiting to happen. He’s headed straight for complete and utter collapse, and the only possible way to stop the train in its tracks is to reach out and get help, the one thing he can’t get himself to do.

And he isn’t even really sure why.

It all comes to a head on a warm night in July. He’d fallen into bed that night deliberately, actually intending to sleep for once. The bone-deep tiredness had finally caught up to him and he didn’t even care that he was walking straight into the arms of Tobias Hankel, if it meant he got even an iota of refreshing sleep, then it would be worth it.

But he isn’t quite of the same mind when he wakes up at two in the morning like he does almost every night: soaked in sweat with his heart going a million beats per minute, with only one difference. Tonight, he’s crying.

Maybe it’s the emotional turmoil of the last few months catching up to him, or maybe it’s just the severity of this particular dream, but whatever it is, he can’t seem to stop even once he’s awake. Sobs wrack his shoulders as he cries miserably into the pillow, finally letting out the emotions he’s kept bottled up so tightly, and he’s almost wailing after a couple of minutes of anguish.

All he can think as he cries helplessly is how badly he wants Derek. He wants to be wrapped up in his strong and safe embrace, he wants to feel the movement of his soft goatee against his cheek, he wants to inhale the comforting scent of his sleep t-shirts, he wants the warmth and solace that only Derek Morgan can give him, and in that moment, emotionally distraught and so incredibly sleep-deprived, he decides to get it.

He stumbles out of his bedroom and down the hall, stopping once he reaches Derek’s door. He hesitates for only a second before he pushes it open slowly, allowing the light from the lamp they keep switched on in the hallway to gently illuminate the shadows of his bedroom.

“Spencer?” Derek asks groggily, immediately sitting up and wiping his eyes. “What’s wrong? Are you crying?”

At the acknowledgement of his tears, Spencer starts to cry harder, and as embarrassed as he feels, he can’t slow the steady stream of tears rolling down his face as he stands in the doorway like a child in their parents’ room.

“Spence,” Derek says again, gentle and sympathetic, “come here.” He lifts the duvet up and scooches over slightly as if to make room for him in his already spacious king-size bed.

He doesn’t need to be told twice, though, and he stumbles forward, collapsing into bed and wrapping himself around Derek instantly. His arms come up to circle Spencer’s waist, caressing him gently as he holds him close to his body, shushing him quietly.

“It’s okay, Spence,” he murmurs. “I’m here now, alright? We’re gonna fix whatever it is, I promise you. We’ll get through this. You’ll get through this.”

He lets himself cry and cry and cry until his tears are dried up and he’s hiccupping from the force of his sobs. He would feel terrible about the damp spot left on Derek’s t-shirt, but he simply doesn’t have the energy. Instead, he continues to lie there on Derek’s chest, listening to his softly spoken assurances and losing himself in the sensation of Derek’s fingertips caressing the skin of his waist.

After a couple of minutes of silence, interrupted only by the odd hiccup from Spencer’s tired lungs, Derek finally asks the question. “What was that all about, pretty boy?” he asks with a tenderness Spencer isn’t sure he’s ever heard before. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Been having nightmares,” Spencer whispers, keeping his eyes closed against Derek’s imploring gaze.

He feels Derek tense beneath him, his fingers briefly pausing before resuming their comforting patterns on his waist, and a heavy breath escapes his lips. “For how long?”

“Last couple of months,” he mumbles, and somehow another tear manages to escape Spencer’s screwed up eyes.

“Well,” Derek sighs, “I suppose that explains a lot. We’ve been so worried about you, Spencer. We had no idea what was going on but we could all see you withdrawing, and it wasn’t exactly a secret how exhausted you were.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Derek says sadly. “I should’ve pushed harder to figure out what was going on with you. I’m so sorry you’ve had to deal with this all alone.”

“I didn’t know how to tell anyone,” Spencer says, suddenly desperate to explain as he shifts slightly to look Derek in the eye. “I was so scared and I didn’t want anyone to think that I was weak or I couldn’t do my job anymore, and I just didn’t know what to do.”

“I know, Spence,” Derek says soothingly, “but you’ve told me now, haven’t you? And I’m going to do everything I can to get you some help. We’ll fix this, baby. I promise you, I’m going to make sure you’re happy and healthy again if it’s the last thing I do, okay?”

Spencer sniffs a little, wiping tiredly at his eyes as he blinks up at the sincerity on Derek’s face. For the first time in far too long he manages a smile. “Okay.”

Derek runs a hand through his hair before dropping a kiss to the top of his head. “Do you want to sleep here tonight?”

Spencer’s smile widens and he buries his face in Derek’s chest again as his cheeks flush red. “Please.”

Months later, they’ll realise they never officially asked one another to be in an actual, exclusive relationship. Months later, they’ll know instinctively and with absolute certainty that this night was the night that changed everything for them, and exactly one year later, they’ll celebrate their first anniversary on that date.

Tonight, though, they sleep curled up next to one another in Derek’s bed, and although Spencer doesn’t fall into the same dreamless sleep he grew used to immediately after Hankel, for once he isn’t haunted by nightmares, but dreams inflected with hope for what the future holds for them, and he’ll take that over dreamlessness any day.

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @lesbiantodds @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @negativefouriq @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @livrere-blue @hotchseyebrows @enbyspencer @reidology @transhanniballecter @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @hotchedyke @tobias-hankel @ @marsjareau @garcias-bitch @oliverbrnch @im-autistic @anxious-enby @kuolonsyoja @reidreids @ropoto @thosecriminalminds (add yourself to my taglist)

#my writing #moreid #derek #spencer #derek morgan #criminal minds #spencer reid #moreid fic #moreid fanfic #moreid fanfiction #cm #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #derek morgan/spencer reid #derek morgan x spencer reid #spencer reid/derek morgan #spencer reid x derek morgan #userpenemily

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lazysublimeengineer · 3 years ago

Text

of glamorous appearances and intrigues

Summary: One shot sequel to Umbrella Man.

Everyone is here for the infamous Takemichi Hanagaki.

And enticing him to join in their own gang has proven to be difficult than they initially thought.

Characters: Senju K., Takemichi H. & I. Wakasa

Draken watched warily the surroundings around them. His face and stomach still hurt like fucking hell after he was punched like a sack of potatoes by that bastard Terano. Nevertheless, that was the least of his worries and his major concern now was the nervous, scrawny blond beside him as every gang leader present here wanted to swoop Takemichi right away into their gang once they managed to convince him to join their team.

Fuck, their crybaby hero was always a magnet for trouble and dangerous people.

He can’t even imagine the clusterfuck that they’ll have to face if Mikey and his gang arrives here all of a sudden.

The tension has gotten too thick now that one could sliced it with a bread knife once the gang leader of Brahman and the top 2 of the three deities, Kawaragi Senju, has arrived here with a dramatic entrance of landing a solid kick to the face of Terano after distracting him of his flying umbrella.

Served him right. That fucking bastard.

Draken glanced at Takemichi with a neutral expression on his face. The poor boy was getting more nervous and bewildered by the events unfolding in front of him. He needed to remind him to keep his shit together and refrain from making any sudden, impulsive decisions that he may predictably regret in the end. However, before he could even speak to him, a loud smacking sound into the ground had caught his attention and his eyes landed on Shion being plummeted by a severe punch of another newcomer that made Draken instantly cautious and alert.

“You’re a disgrace to Black Dragon! So, cut that shit already!” The man yelled ferociously to Shion who was sporting a chin strap style beard.

Draken could see that Takemichi flinched from the corner of his eyes.

“That’s Benkei-kun, from the First Gen.” Inui’s stated calmly and he stored it from the back of his mind.

Well, they’re in deep shit. And it doesn’t really help that the added unwanted guests who kept coming into this fray made his hackles rose.

Draken guessed that he had no choice but to fight their way out of this one. A wide grin crossed his features and readied his body into a fighting stance.

“Its been a while since this engine has gotten heated up! Let’s get this party started!”

Takemichi blinked a few times as he stared at Senju who already stood up to his full height while holding his umbrella calmly and stared at Terano with a blank expression on his face.

“Hold on. This little guy…Is Brahman’s boss?” Takemichi mumbled to himself, a slight look of disbelief and confusion marring his youthful features.

Takemichi knew that he shouldn’t judge a book by its cover and underestimate the people around him. He already learned it the hard way from his past experiences. Nevertheless, it still took him by surprise sometimes on how could a small and young-looking person could pack a certain punch to his knuckles and deliver a roundhouse kick that would send them into a fitful sleep.

It made Takemichi wary yet intrigued by this innocent looking gang leader of the Brahman. He surmised that his deep-seated eyes and ingenuous features had somewhat landed him in being underestimated by the other gangsters who doesn’t know what he’s capable of.

Just like with Shion who was now questioning his presence and capabilities.

But before he could even mull about it for any longer, his attention was fully caught when someone just socked Shion directly into his face that made him fall down like a ragdoll into the ground. The newcomer made him flinched and grimaced in an instant as he looked at them with wide eyes.

“Senju! Brahman is not here today to brawl! Our objective is Hanagaki Takemichi!” The man berated Senju harshly.

“You’re so loud Benkei.” Senju replied dispassionately, unaffected by the man’s infuriating voice directed at him.

“Oh yeah! I’ve completely forgotten it too! They’re here to scout me…But why?” Takemichi tried to rattle every possibility inside his brain for a reason why most of them wanted to recruit him to their own gang suddenly.

“If Takemichi wishes to return to the world of delinquency…He belongs to us, Rokuhara Tandai!” Kakucho announced firmly after he landed a solid punch to Benkei and sent him flying into the corner.

“Kaku-chan!” Takemichi exclaimed in disbelief as his thoughts were cut off by his sudden action and bold announcement.

“Right Takemichi?” Kakucho looked at him square in the eye.

“Uh! Um…” Takemichi replied intelligently. His face was bewildered yet conflicted at the same time.

Does he really need to choose here? Right now? But how could he know if he made the right decision of accepting an offer from one of these gangs? Won’t he regret it in the end?

Takemichi could feel his mind was about to explode from the onslaught of rapid thoughts and information. Quick decision making was never his strong suit and he can probably make a goddamn mistake again from the pressure of this tense situation.

Senju was quiet and was still sporting an unflappable expression on his face despite the bold attack and claims of Kakucho. But his eyes narrowed imperceptibly and his grip tightened on his umbrella. A slight dislike wormed its way to his very being as he watched Kakucho tried to convinced Takemichi to join them by putting him on the spot. He could sensed the waves of conflicting emotions radiating off Takemichi as he tried and failed to give a proper response.

At times like this, they also had to draw out their trump card to neutralize the situation and gain Takemichi’s hand and favor. He wouldn’t let the other gangs swept Takemichi off of his feet and win him over. He’d have to play every trick on this game to outsmart them and win this blond who possessed those electrifying blue eyes which could be their weapon against them. Senju gave a subtle glance to Akashi to which the latter understood and signaled for their top executive to enter the scene.

“This gets the blood pumping, doesn’t it, Waka?” Akashi stated with a lazy grin on his face.

“No, it doesn’t.” A young man suddenly appeared behind Kakucho which made him surprised and fell backwards.

“When did you—?”

“If I cared enough, this guy wouldn’t be standing alive.” Wakasa cut him off with a bored look etched into his face.

‘These monsters come out one after another!’ Takemichi thought incredulously.

“Hey! Don’t just appear glamorously out of nowhere Waka!” Benkei yelled furiously.

“I’m just following Senju’s orders.” Wakasa replied nonchalantly.

A series of murmurs and mutterings then erupted from the other gangsters who were also bystanders from the corners.

Nevertheless, Wakasa tuned them out as his disinterested gaze landed on the infamous Hanagaki Takemichi.

So, this was the one huh?

The notorious morale weapon of the Touman gang in the past.

There was nothing exceptional to this man and he possessed a face that he could probably forget after 2 days of meeting him. Nevertheless, despite his scrawny appearance and the fearful stance in front of them, Takemichi’s eyes caught him the most. It was the shade of a perfect blue that reminds of peaceful skies in the Spring. It’s also expressive and open that he could read every emotion and obvious thought from them. He gleaned that Takemichi was an honest and sincere type of guy.

A refreshing breathe of fresh air into their world that’s full of ragtag delinquents and decrepit liars.

Wakasa casually made his way towards the scrawny blond and crossed his personal space, staring at him intently in the eye.

“Hanagaki Takemichi. We’re here to scout you. Join us, will you?” Wakasa stated in a detached voice as he continued to study the multitude of expressions that flit across his face from his statement alone.

Takemichi stepped backwards, taken aback by Wakasa’s sudden proximity around him and his intense stare. He swallowed thickly as he looked back at him hesitantly. The top executive was sporting a bland yet expectant look on his face as if waiting for his confirmation to join them instead. His long, ponytailed locks that have some streaks of highlights reminded him of Kazutora’s style and his dead yet intense stare reminded him of Sanzu.

A shiver ran down his spine.

He just oozes danger and trouble yet Takemichi can’t tear his eyes away from him as if he was briefly captivated by those intense eyes that was boring right into his soul.

An imperceptible sigh broke him out of his strange trance and he turned his attention to Senju who was looking at them with an indifferent expression on his face.

Senju pursed his lips as his line of sight caught Wakasa invading the personal space of the blond, a flare of annoyance started to creeped into his veins before he inwardly sighs and clamped it down.

Now was not the right time to pay attention to these odd yet irritating sensations that were engulfing his brain.

“Don’t scare him like that Waka. Our main goal is to scout Takemichi.” Senju stated bluntly.

Wakasa stepped away from him. But his gaze lingered on Takemichi for a few seconds before he trained his attention to Senju. “Right. I understand. Sorry if I’m coming out too strong for you Takemichi.”

Takemichi chuckled nervously before he stepped beside Inui, trying to calm down his stuttering heart.

What the hell was happening to him?

“Hanagaki. Those are the living legends. Waka and Benkei. They’re the best duo from the 1st Gen Black Dragon! And then, 1stGen Vice President, “The God of War” Akashi Takeomi. This is…The founding members of 1st Gen Black Dragon.” Inui informed him calmly.

Takemichi absorbed Inui’s words, digesting them inside his head. So, this was the generation led by Mikey’s brother, Shinichiro Sano. And now, these living legends were being led by the mysterious deity in front of them and was coined the “Unmatched Kawaragi Senju.”

With Senju leading these men in the front, it already gave him an idea of how immensely powerful this enigmatic man in front of him. And it made his curiosity peaked around—

“What the hell are you guys hyping each other for?”

Draken’s loud voice cut off his wandering thoughts and looked at him with a befuddled expression on his face.

“Should we continue where we left off?”

Before Takemichi can get a word in, Draken was was already challenging Terano again to a fist fight and cracking his knuckles, a vicious grin was present on his face.

“W-what is going on now?” Takemichi stammered as he could feel his soul leave out of his body.

Were they seriously going to fight now?!

Meanwhile, Wakasa and Senju watched Takemichi from afar, his anxious flailing made them amuse and fascinated.

They both know that getting this blond into their gang would make things more interesting and they’ll make sure to win him over to their team by any means necessary.

(A/N: I don’t own any of these characters from the franchise. Only this insane fic of mine. Apologies in advance if some of them are OOC especially the new ones as I tried to make them in character. Wakasa only appeared in the few panels of the manga but I tried to connect his characterization basing from his few dialogues and behavior to this fic of mine. This was inspired by the events of chapter 213 of the manga. Chapter 213 was funny and wild. The boys are fighting over Takemichi and wants a piece of him. And ofc. The glamorous appearance of the cool yet distant Wakasa has haunted my shipping ass and couldn’t resist adding him to Takemichi’s harem. So, what’s the appropriate ship name for this newborn ship? Wakamichi or Wakatake? Or you have something cooler ship name in mind? Let me know your thoughts in the comment section.)

#recruiting takemichi hours has begun #sentake #wakamichi or wakatake #you decide #spoilers #manga spoilers for chapter 213 #ambiguous relationship #character study #draken has enough of their shit #chapter 213 is equivalent to takemichi's harem #everybody wants a piece of takemichi #fanfiction #tokyo revengers #takemichi hanagaki #imaushi wakasa #senju kawaragi #takemitchy #senju #wakasa

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yandere-sins · 4 years ago

Text

Rest

a/n: This is a little something for @meilc because it’s your birthday!!! (At least, here in Germany already lol!) I hope you get to have a nice day and some rest, you’ve been working very hard lately! I wish you all the best and hopefully you can enjoy this a little bit, being smothered by your favs ♥ Crazy how it all started with Obey Me! and now we’ve become such good friends, I am super glad to have you in my life ♥

Characters: Solomon x NB!Reader x Asmodeus (Obey Me!) Warnings: Manipulation, Magic as drug used Words: 1248

The short, fleeting words Solomon whispered in your ears were as sweet as the magic drifting through Asmodeus' room. It smelled lighter than perfume, heavier than roses, but either way, it completely fogged your mind, making your lips curl into a grin as you leaned against the magician, enjoying his strong embrace.

"I love you."

"You are special."

"You're beautiful."

You heard his words, yet their implications didn't manage to get through to you. All you knew was that you were happy about the attention; happy to receive such tender affections. Usually, you kept such a great distance to Solomon, but now, you wondered why. Was it because he looked at you as if he wanted to devour you? Or because you couldn't handle him whenever he became a little too 'intrigued' by your magic, pestering you with questions and urging you to actions you couldn't possibly fulfill? The few times he cornered you, your eyes frantically trying to avoid eye contact with him, had scared you enough, and you never wanted to repeat them.

It was so hard to read him. You two should have been getting along well, partners in crime - or well, at least the only humans in Devildom. But ever since he took note of your abilities, Solomon had become more and more obsessed with being close to you. You could never understand what he thought when all he did was drill you with his intense gaze and this ever-lasting smile on his face, void of any emotions.

However, right now, if there was anything else than joy and tenderness in his expression as he held you in his arms, you didn't notice it.

At the same time, his arms were so big. They were long enough to hold you in them completely, to reach around you, and play with your hands in your lap. His fingers were long as well but smooth as stone and just as cool and refreshing. You found yourself holding on to them tightly, never softening your grip, fearing to let go. Everything… was so woozy. If he let go, you might fall. You feared this hypothetical, endless fall. It made you tense and sit straight up, gasping.

"It's alright," Solomon cooed to you softly, taking both your hands into his, easily loosening the grip you had on him as if you weren't holding on tightly at all. With his free hand, he reached up, brushed back over your head, and caressed your cheek. Sighing, you enjoyed the coldness spreading over your skin, the world stopping to turn for a little bit, and you sunk back against his chest. "Just relax," he hummed, and you were glad to have him here with you. Alone, this would have been scary, but you felt safe with Solomon, and strangely enough, a feeling of belonging washed over you as well.

"Oh my," a familiar chuckle echoed through the room. The mattress budging under the weight of another person almost made you feel like falling again, but Solomon was quick to tighten his arms around you, and you were endlessly thankful he did. "They're really gone for, Solomon," Asmodeus chuckled, popping into your vision. Smiling heartfelt at you, he leaned forward for a kiss, and you eagerly returned it, even following as he pulled away first, Asmo's lips curling into a smile. "I don't mind, but is this what you wanted?"

The sigh from Solomon that followed worried you. It sounded so sad, so heavy as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. What could have happened? "I don't like having to do this," he revealed and catching your worried gaze as you laid your head back, the frown on his face faded into a gentle smile. Again, one of those cool, tender hands reached up to let your head rest in its palm. Just as adorably as a pet.

"Humans are so fickle, don't you know?" he mumbled, watching you nuzzle into his hand and sighing blissfully. "Even though I am an exception, I've seen it plenty of times. It was necessary that they take a break." Leaning down, Solomon graced your free cheek with his lips briefly before resting his against yours. "I can't let them wear themselves down more. Studies, work, and the constant troubles your brothers are bringing over them. They needed this."

For a while, it grew quiet as Solomon closed his eyes, face sinking into your shoulder, taking deep breaths. If Asmodeus wanted to reply, he kept it to himself; instead, he watched his favorite humans cuddle it out. "As I said, I don't mind," he finally spoke up, rising from his spot to close in on you and Solomon, "Whatever makes you happy, Master ~" Asmo cooed, pushing both of your bodies back into the pillows behind Solomon.

"But you'd really hate to be left out of it," was Solomon's addition to his demon's words, an amused smile returning back on his face as he looked up at Asmo, who climbed on top of the body pile. You were gently sandwiched between the two, but you didn't even mind since the next thing you knew was Asmo's kiss, sweet as honey and exciting as sparkling wine. You gave in to it, Asmodeus spreading a warmth through you that was different from the one Solomon's embrace lulled you into.

The latter remained a quiet observer while Asmodeus nibbled at your lips, stole your breath, and opened your mouth for him. As if the smell of Solomon's magic wasn't enough to have you lose your mind, the kiss quickly got heated enough to make you gasp for air beneath the demon, frantically searching for Solomon's hands to cool you off and keep you from falling more and more into the daze.

You couldn't even feel surprised anymore when you found Solomon's hands intertwined with Asmo's, both pairs reaching up on your inquiry to hold you, roam over you, make you shudder from the alternating hot and cold you felt tearing at your body. And somewhere in that chaos, Asmodeus' lips changed to Solomons, even though Asmo never left you, making sure you felt him all over your skin, and at the same time, you felt like never knowing where he was.

"You can always rely on us," Solomon whispered against your lips, his breath tempting you to another kiss. "We know what's best for you, and that's being with us. Here. You don't have to worry about anything; we'll take care of you."

In your dazed state, you believed him.

"We love you ~" you heard the unison of their voices, each on a different ear, coming from different places. And you loved to believe this as well. How nice was it to avoid responsibilities? To only be with the people that loved you? To feel no anger, no sadness, only the fear of losing them combined with the euphoria of having them stay with you always?

If only it could have stayed this way forever.

Just you, Solomon, and Asmodeus.

"I love you too," you whispered, petting their heads tenderly and finding their gazes even if everything seemed to spin around you. They exchanged a short glance before smiling, meeting you halfway for either of them taking one corner of your mouth for their kiss.

All three of you hoping Solomon's ability would never run out of magic, and reality would never be able to catch up to you.

Or else, someone's heart had to break.

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shorkbrian · 4 years ago

Note

I’ve noticed a shortage of yan! Shoto :0 Whilst Kiri is my absolute fave, Todoroki needs some love too! Could I request some Yan! Shoto being absolutely touch starved and obsessed with a sweet, loving, motherly and smol reader? (it can be nsfw if you so wish!) Thank you!! (Btw, I love reading your stories, it’s a blessing in my day, even just looking at your shitposts/memes. And if you ever want to talk, jus say so. I hope you have a good day!! 🥺💞) - Sugar Anon 🧚‍♀️

Sugar anon! That is such a cute identifier and I hope to see you in my asks again!! Hopefully this is along the lines of what you were thinking!!!

It’s a very good concept btw cause like mhm him getting completely overwhelmed and overstimulated during diddly times cause he’s never had anyone be intimate with him.

Like moaning and his cheeks are flushed and oh

(Y/N) is a new doctor at Shouto’s agency in charge of patching him up between missions and basically being his doctor. Shouto likes her gentle hands and soft touches, lets himself get a bit more scraped up then he would normally. He’s just so touch starved and she’s so motherly and its such an intimate setting and he’s never had feelings like this before and he doesn’t know what to do.

Has yandere tendencies but tries to squash them down or hide them, tries to be normal.

One day gets hit with an aphrodisiac quirk, stumbles into her office and she’s immediately worried, once she figures out what’s up she tries to get out, lock him in there until someone stronger than he can come escort him home but he grabs her before she can get to the door.

He’s crying cause he’s so horny it hurts (he’s never been this aroused in his LIFE) and he wanted everything to be perfect and he wanted to woo her but now he’s forcing himself on her and he can’t stop his hips from moving and he’s confessing all the bad things he’s done while he’s known her and she’s absolutely horrified, traumatized.

Warnings - NSFW, noncon, very hard noncon. Aphrodisiacs (spelling?) and a low-key weird comment about Shouto’s mommy-issues at the end. Dude is so twisted and sad and touch starved.

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“Todoroki-san, I have had to patch you up six different times in two days.”

Shouto cocked his head, staring at you with his bi-colored eyes, studying your face as you tended to the wound on his shoulder. The lilt to your voice suggested you were teasing, making small talk to distract the man as you swiped a disinfectant pad over the cut. You knew what you would be expected to do when you applied for this job, knew that heros were often injured.

He had overseen the hiring process himself, his last doctor had left the agency for a job in a different country. Shouto held no hard feelings for the doctor, knew that as a hero he often got himself into trouble, needed a lot of attention and care. Not everyone could be expected to spend so much time with him, attending to his health - even if he was paying them a more-than adequate salary.

Most of the candidates had bored him when they came in for their scheduled interviews. Too many of them were looking at this position as a way to launch them into a nice comfortable position in a prestigious hospital. They seemed… uninterested, or too interested, some of the candidates invading his space when they came for a handshake, babbling about how much of a fan they were.

You weren’t like that. There was a professional distance when you shook his hand, smiling at him pleasantly as you introduced himself. Then you sat down, waited for him and his team to begin asking you questions. Shouto couldn’t keep his eyes from straying to your hands, letting himself wonder whether those hands would be the right ones for the job. You looked so delicate, at least to him, a pro-hero.

But he already liked you better than any of the other candidates.

So you were hired, on the condition that you would be on a trial period for the first two months, with halved pay. It was still far above minimum wage, but Shouto was weary of hiring seemingly-normal employees only for them to turn out to just be trying to get to know him, whatever their reasons. The trial period was for his own sanity.

Currently he was sitting in your office, perched on the edge of the exam table tucked into the corner. Today he had managed to escape his most recent fight with only a few mild scrapes and bruises, but as his doctor, you needed to make sure he was okay, clean his wounds and patch him up before letting him go home for the day. It wouldn’t do anybody any good if one of the top pro heros collapsed on the job because of a lack of medical care.

Your office was stocked with everything a doctor of your caliber could possibly need. Your “office” was really a mock hospital room, in a medium sized room located at the back of the agency. Having you on site meant that Shouto never had to bother with trips to the hospital, being swarmed by fans when he wasn’t feeling good or having someone who didn’t understand the capabilities of his quirk try to treat him.

It also meant he could relax, know that he was being taken care of. With you being so new, Shouto still had his guard up, ready for any-and-everything. So far you had been nothing but gentle.

You had hardly talked to him, other than the expected “This might sting” or “Deep breath in”. You warned him before you touched him, but otherwise were very quiet, working diligently and professionally. Shouto enjoyed it honestly, being able to step away from the buzz and hubbub of his agency and into his doctor’s office, where it was quiet and calm and peaceful.

Being with his mother had felt like this. Felt safe and refreshing and like a secret haven tucked away from the rest of the world.

Clicking you tongue, you gave the pro hero a thumbs up as you stepped back. “Alright, you’re good to go! Please be safe on your way home Todoroki-san.” Shouto nodded, a stiff smile passing his lips as he rose to his feet. You were a good doctor, always took the best care of him.

“You as well Y/N.”

——

The next visit to your office revealed that you had added a few personal touches.

A cheesy poster on the wall, directly across from the exam table, a single plant on your desk, A bowl of mini lollipops on the shelf by the door.

Cute.

Today was a short visit, just a quick once-over to make sure there weren’t any cuts or wounds that he hadn’t felt, the normal questions any quirks used against him during the day. Shouto found himself wishing the visit had been longer as you gave him the all-clear, moving away from the exam table so he could stand up. Before he walked out the door, you stopped him, silently handed him a lollipop. He took it, noticing how soft your hand felt against his as he withdrew.

Shouto didn’t like sweets, but he didn’t mind accepting a lollipop from you. He could just offer it to his secretary when he passed her desk, no biggie. It was easier to do that than hurt your feelings by refusing.

Well, he knew it probably wouldn’t hurt your feelings. He just liked seeing the little twinkle in your eye when he accepted it. He assumed the lollipops were a gag, something usually given to small children for being brave at their checkups.

He wasn’t your only patient, much as he would’ve liked. His agency had several other up-and-coming heroes, and several sidekicks, and you tended to all of them. Shouto liked to think that you saved the majority of your tenderness for him.

One time he had come in while you were setting one of the sidekick’s shoulders. You had asked him to sit down in your office chair, to give you a minute so you could finish up with his coworker. Shouto had done exactly that, watching as your soft hands gripped the sidekick hard, fingers digging in.

“One, two, three.” You gave a countdown, forcefully jerking the shoulder back in place on “three”. The sidekick groaned at the pain, head shaking as if to clear his head from the intense sensation. You went over to your lollipop bowl, ignoring Shouto as he sat in your chair, returning to the sidekick to give him the sugary treat.

The sidekick sucked on the lollipop while you bandaged his arm into a sling, immobilizing it so it could heal. When you were done, you sent him on his way with a soft smile, before turning to Shouto.

“Todoroki-san, thank you for waiting. How are you feeling today?”

Todoroki moved to the exam table when you motioned for him, immediately stripping off one of the boots of his hero costume.

“Hello (Y/N), it’s good to see you. I’m feeling good, got nicked by a spike during a fight today. Luckily it hit my ankle, and it’s not very painful.”

“Mm, let’s have a look.”

You kneeled down, giving him a small warning before pulling his foot towards you, examining the tiny cut gracing his ankle. Shouto paused, closing his eyes as he relaxed at your touch. He didn’t remember the last time he felt this at-ease with another human. He didn’t know what it was about you; maybe your gentle, soft demeanor? Perhaps it was your kind touch, how you never pressed too hard and always respecting his personal space.

Even as your fingers prodded at the cut, feeling the bone underneath, Shouto felt relaxed, content. He liked being around you, being with you. Even if the two of you hardly conversed. Maybe he could change that?

“(Y/N), how have you been finding working here?”

You looked up at him, bright eyes warm and kind. Shouto felt his chest tighten. “Oh, it’s very nice Todoroki-san! I hope I’m doing a good job attending to everyone.” With a smile, you returned to his ankle, producing an alcohol wipe from seemingly nowhere.

Shouto nodded, hands gripping the edge of the exam table. “I certainly appreciate your service. You have very tender hands.” Just like his mom. When he was younger, before his scare… Shouto remembered the care his mother would give to a scraped knee or a bump on his head. The soft touch, the kindness, the gentle hands - Shouto didn’t want to insult you by comparing you to his mother, so he stayed silent.

With a start, the man realized you were beaming up at him, wrapping a bandage around his ankle. He smiled back, felt his cheeks flush a little. What was this?

“Thank you! I know how important my patient is to the world.”

Ah, yes, his job.

His job that he should probably getting back to.

Reluctantly, Shouto accepted the usual lollipop from your hands, wishing you would linger so he could feel the brush of your skin against his own.

Was he developing feelings for you?

——

It was a startling idea. Shouto never thought himself the type to have /feelings/ for someone else. When he thought of his future, it never involved another person. He didn’t want a family, didn’t want the opportunity to make the same mistakes as his father.

But as he gave the idea more thought, Shouto realized that he was feeling… something towards you. It was different to what he felt for Izuku, for Bakugou and Kirishima. He didn’t crave their touch like he did yours. Had physical contact always had such an appeal?

His last doctor had touched him, it was necessary of course to patch up his various wounds from fights. But somehow it wasn’t the same as when you touched him.

Shouto spent each exam studying you, your features, the way you moved, how you almost skipped over to the lollipop bowl to retrieve him one at the end of the exam. He felt drawn to you, wanted to touch your hair, hold onto your hand when you handed him the lollipop. Would you touch him if he asked? A hug maybe?

In his penthouse, Shouto mulled over his feelings, his wants and needs and how you fit in. Would it be prudent for him to start a relationship at this point in his life? Would you even consider him as a partner? No, probably not. You were much too professional, wouldn’t even think of starting a relationship with your boss.

Maybe he could fire you.

No, no, Shouto couldn’t do that, it would make you hate him. Plus, he wouldn’t be able to see you as often. And Shouto was quickly becoming of the opinion that he wouldn’t mind seeing you more often than he did now.

He wanted more from you. He didn’t know what he wanted, but… maybe he could learn.

——

If you noticed how frequently Shouto seemed to be visiting you, compared to his usual once-daily check up, you didn’t say anything.

Tabloids were beginning to comment on how eager the pro hero seemed to engage in hand-to-hand with villains. His usual strategy involved using his quirk, only getting his hands dirty if absolutely necessary. But now? He was constantly looking to get hit, kicked, clawed, wounded.

He had to come see you after every over-dramatic scrap with a villain. You didn’t seem to notice, nor mind seeing his face pop around the door 3-4 times a day, sheepishly asking if you could patch up a new cut, check out a new bruise, make sure his nose wasn’t broken.

Shouto could feel himself falling, further and further into the rigid embrace of love, or at least, his version of it. Did other people experience attraction this vividly?

He had come to terms with the fact that he was attracted to you, not just your body but your mind, your personality, your very existence. He wanted to stay in your office, lingering after every visit and awkwardly attempting small talk just so you would interact with him, just so he could be with you a little longer.

In the privacy of his own apartment, Shouto found himself researching on his laptop. “How to get the girl” “Ways to let her know you like her” “What does love feel like”. He felt so juvenile, but the man was genuinely at a loss for how to deal with his feelings for you. Telling you outright wouldn’t be appropriate. You would never enter a relationship with your boss, Shouto knew this, you were too good of an employee. Flirting was not his forte, and was completely out of the question.

So he stuck to what he knew how to do - keep his mouth shut and watch. You never turned him away from your office, never showed irritation when he showed up, never gave any sign that you were becoming tired of his presence. Shouto took this as an invitation, a sign that maybe, just maybe, you had feelings for him too. He found himself bringing his lunch down to your office, asking if he could eat there, just to get away from everyone for a little bit. You always let him, nonchalantly scrolling through your phone as you ate during your lunch break.

Shouto was a bit embarrassed of himself when he pulled your file from the employee records. If anyone asked why, he would just tell them that he was considering giving you a raise, but wasn’t sure. That’s a valid reason to bring out an employee’s file, right? He just wanted to know where you live, if it was far from the agency. The man couldn’t stomach the thought of you, gentle, little (Y/N) having to walk home alone at night, or take the train with all the creeps that could be there.

When he came upon your address, Shouto made a note to ask if you’d like him to drive you home. It was at least a thirty minute drive, he didn’t want to think about how you usually got home. What if something happened to his doctor? When he broached the subject, Shouto thought he did pretty well at acting nonchalant.

“The weather’s getting colder, isn’t it?”

You nodded, wrapping gauze around a nasty gash on his calf.

“I feel bad for anyone who has to walk during the evenings.” He stated.

“Aw, it’s not that bad in my opinion.” You took the bait “I walk home from the train station every night and the weather isn’t awful. It’ll probably get nasty as winter comes though.”

“You have to take the metro to get home? Where do you live.” As if he didn’t know. But you’d recoil if he offered just yet, probably be weirded out that he knew your address.

“Yeah, I live over in the Shikuyu district. It’s a really pretty walk in the fall though, all those trees turning different colors.”

Shouto wrung his hands, taking a deep breath. “Let me drive you home tonight, there’s been some criminal activity going down over there and it’s not one of my sectors. I need my doctor safe.”

You tried to protest, and Shouto let you, but ultimately pulled the boss card, insisting that he needed to take care of his employees, especially one that he bothered so much.

“You never bother me Todoroki-san.” You laughed, dropping a lollipop into Shouto’s lap.

Shouto kept his face from souring, missing the usual contact of your gentle, silky-soft hands as you handed the treat to him. But it was fine, he would get more time with you. In his car, just the two of you, outside of work.

Then he registered what you said, and his head snapped up, eyes wide and roving over you as you turned away, cleaning up the exam table and messy supplies.

It was all the confirmation he needed.

——

After the first time Shouto drove you home, you refused to let him go out of his way to help you out. Still, he was your boss and he could insist that you at least call an uber, or a cab. He didn’t feel comfortable sending his little doctor off onto the train every night after work. Shouto even upped your pay so you could afford it easier, saying there was no reason to be unsafe.

It was hard for him to know if he was being too suffocating. He didn’t want for you to regret your statement about him never bothering you.

So he had his agency install new security cameras.

One was placed in your office, where there hadn’t been one before. You weren’t too pressed when Shouto asked you what you thought of the upgrades, said you could see the sense in making sure the building was safe, especially the doctor’s office, where the heroes would be at their most vulnerable.

Shouto agreed - he was always at his most vulnerable when he was around you.

But now he could stop letting his body take a beating in order to see you. He could sit in his office, busy himself with paperwork and have the security feed from your office pulled up on his laptop. Half the time Shouto got distracted, abandoning the paperwork in order to watch you work, treating sidekicks and heroes-in-training and anyone else the agency had hired.

He tried to ignore the bitter pang of jealousy that reared it’s head.

Shouto knew jealousy, knew anger and negative emotions very well. His childhood had been littered with nothing but bad memories and negative moments. The only time he felt at peace was when he was curled in his mom’s lap, the woman running slender fingers through his bi-colored hair. Sometimes, when he was still very small, she would have the time to read him a story before bedtime.

She was such an amazing woman.

Shouto saw her in you.

The way you tended to him so gently, delicately treating his wounds. How you carded through his hair, just like his mom used to, when you were checking for head wounds. The way your lovely hands pressed against his back when you felt to see if a rib was cracked, rubbing each rib slow and soft, pressing. It was just like how his mom would rub his back.

The man swore your touch was addictive. He wanted more and more and more and he didn’t have a clue as how to get it. Shouto had to be satisfied with fleeting brushes when he moved before you were ready, accidentally jostling you against his body. Or telling you (lying) that his body was hurting, sore, it didn’t quite feel right. You would do your best to check for any injuries, asking where it hurt (usually his torso “hurt”) and then skimming your hands very carefully over the skin there.

Shouto imagined how nice it would be to fall asleep with your hands on him. He wasn’t stupid. He was getting too attached, too invested, was practically stalking your at this point. He shouldn’t be doing this, lying to you, watching you. But he didn’t know what else to do.

Guilt was beginning to take root in his mind.

One day he knew he would have to tell you, confess his feelings and deal with the outcome. You would accept him, hopefully. Shouto felt afraid for what he would do if you didn’t.

——

Shouto felt hot, disoriented, thirsty. He was pretty sure he was in your office, had gotten hit with a villains quirk during a fight. Apparently it had knocked him out, as he didn’t remember even coming into the agency.

Muffled voices could be heard past the closed door, and Shouto winced at the noise, at the light, at the feelings of his clothes against his skin. Everything felt too much. He stumbled off the exam table, yup, your office, and moved towards the light switch, stripping off his shirt as he did so.

The voices outside were still making noise, but with the light off Shouto felt a little better. His remaining clothes were still bothering him. His head felt fuzzy. His boots came off, followed by his pants. He wanted to take off his boxers, but his rational mind supplied how bad of an idea that would be. What if you came in?

At the thought of his little doctor, Shouto’s stomach jolted in arousal. Confused, the man peered down, surprised to find himself completely hard in his boxer briefs. He knew he considered you very attractive, but it usually took a fair bit of stimulus before he found himself aroused.

Shouto gulped as he climbed back onto the exam table, immediately curling onto his side towards the wall. He was practically panting with the heat of the room, sweating and drooling. Wait, drooling?

The door opened.

“Todoroki-san, I have bad news.”

Your voice was so sweet, like warm honey. Shouto shivered when he heard it, his cock twitching between his legs. He wanted to turn to you, stand up, pull you close. But he… he shouldn’t.

“You got hit by an aphrodisiac quirk. It’s going to take a bit to leave your system, and will probably be uncomfortable until then. I’m going to leave some supplies in case you would like to use them, but I will be taking my leave after getting you settled. The rest of your team and I have decided it’s safer for you to remain in this room than attempt to move you back home. We will be locking the door so no one can come in.”

And you can’t get out.

You didn’t have to say it,. Shouto heard you shuffling around the room behind him, he was so hot, sweat was beading all over his body.

“(Y/N), Why am I so warm?” Shouto groaned out, trembling. It felt like he was sick but with… arousal.

Objects were set down on your desk, before Shouto heard you step towards him.

“The quirk is going to make your libido hyperactive for the next twelve hours or so. It’s very likely that you will be aroused and craving stimulation.”

You sounded so clinical, so robotic, none of the usual warmth in your tone when you talked to Shouto. He wanted to whine, cry that you weren’t treating him the way you usually did. And when he needed your help too! His rational brain was telling him that you were trying to be professional, give your mostly-naked boss privacy.

HIs rational brain told him to stay still, wait until you left the room to grab whatever you had left for him on the desk. It was entirely possible that he wouldn’t be able to hold himself back from grabbing your hands if he turned. He wanted to feel your hands on him, running over his torso, rubbing his back, cupping his cheek. He wanted your touch, so, so bad.

Shouto decided it was time for his rational brain to shut up.

When he turned over, sitting up, you looked like a deer caught in the headlights, already halfway to the door.

“(Y/N)” Shouto rasped, rising to his feet unsteadily. The arousal pooling in his gut was overwhelming - he couldn’t remember a time when he’d been so hard. His penis was so rigid that it hurt, throbbing in his boxers.

You took a step back, eyes trained firmly on Shouto’s face, determined to not let them stray below the belt.

Shouto didn’t know what was happening, couldn’t rationalize any of it. The man wasn’t even in control of himself, feeling as if some demon from hell had invaded his body, taken his dirty thoughts and insisted that he act upon them right now.

The pro hero didn’t even know when he had grabbed you, but then he was pressing you up against his body and it felt so good that the man whimpered. A low, needy sound, softer than the spluttering and shocked noises tumbling from your mouth as you pushed against your boss, trapped in his grip.

“Todoroki-san! Please let go! The quirk-!”

Shouto didn’t listen, didn’t want to. He started grinding his hips against yours, breathing hard through his nose at the pleasure roaring into his veins at the simple contact, his dick pressing into your stomach.

It wasn’t enough though, he needed more.

Shouto dragged you to the exam table, manhandled you up against the flat surface and bent you over despite your struggling, the shouts of “No! Stop!”. Should he stop? Probably. But he wanted this. Had ever since he realized that he loved you, although it hadn’t been this intense before. With one quick movement, Shouto pulled off your scrubs, discarding your underwear in the same movement. He wasn’t concerned about foreplay - he needed, he needed all of you right now.

But the man couldn’t resist falling to his knees behind you, hands moving their iron grip from your palms to your thighs. His fingertip dug into your flesh, dimpling up your skin as he leaned forward, your pussy exposed oh so prettily for him.

Shouto didn’t know if you were screaming or crying or begging for more. He was too focused on the juicy flesh in front of him, leaning forward quickly to greedily slurp at the pink slit. He felt you jump, try to straighten your back but he let his hold on his quirk weaken, simultaneously heating and freezing each thigh held in his grasp.

You quickly resumed the position he had put you in.

The pro hero couldn’t get enough, licking and sucking with fervent desperation at your folds, no rhythm or technique whatsoever. He couldn’t think, not with his face buried between your legs, your thighs shaking in his hold, your sweet little cries (“Todoroki-san /please/! Stop!”) filling the air.

It could have been seconds, or minutes, Shouto had no concept of what was happening, only that you were the best fucking thing he had ever tasted in his life, and he needed everything you had to give him. He couldn’t stop himself from trying to burying his face closer, trying to spread your thighs further and further so he could reach deeper into your puffy pussy.

Your cum gushed onto his tongue, and the man slurped it up, reveling in the stick, wet sensation.

He couldn’t ignore his dick any longer.

Letting go of your thighs, Shouto stood, pushing his boxer briefs down his legs as fast as he could, desperate to sheath himself inside your cunt. He could barely breathe, was so aroused he was light-headed with need.

With his boxers off, the man pressed close to you again, lifting one of your legs to brace it on the table, forcing you to go on tiptoe. When the head of his dick met your folds, Shouto felt his cock jump, the strange sensation making butterflies rise in his stomach.

“Mmhm, (Y/N) I don’t know-I don’t know what’s happening.” Shouto confessed, one hand on your hip, the other guiding his thick cock into your pussy. “You just-oh, you look so good, always - always do. I need to feel - need to feel you so bad.”

He could feel your body trembling, and it briefly crossed his mind that you were probably crying. But his arousal slammed into him like a truck the moment he let his hips twitch forward, sliding his length into your wet pussy. “Oh god, oh-oh god, oh!”

Shouto came, crying into your neck, saliva dripping from his mouth and onto your heated flesh.

To his surprise, his dick was still hard, and the arousal was still pushing, urging, needy.

“(Y/N), I don’t - I’m so sorry.” Shouto stuttered, pulling back just to have his hips plunge forward again. You were so warm, so wet from your own orgasm and from his cum sliding inside you. It was heaven.

Shouto had never touched, nor been touched this much in his entire life. He didn’t know what to do, how to feel; it felt like his brain was on fire, and with each desperate snap of his hips, he was throwing on more and more gasoline. He had longer stamina this time, pounding you into the edge of the table for what felt like forever until his hips stuttered, his legs shaking as he orgasmed inside you.

When Shouto felt himself steady, he was horrified to find himself /still/ aroused. “I’m sorry (Y/N), This isn’t - I didn’t want to do it like this.” He was crying as he rutted against you, tears dripping hot onto your back. “I’ve been trying to be perfect, plan - plan dates, a relationship, anything, as long as it’s you.”

The man buried his head into the crook of your neck, inhaling raggedly. “It can only ever be you.”

His clarity was returning, each orgasm making him feel less and less feverish. At this point, his cock hurt, and he was too sensitive, but still, his hips wouldn’t stop.

“I was going - going to ask if we could go out.” A lie, but it felt like the right thing to say. You were definitely crying underneath him, Shouto would be lower than trash if he didn’t try to comfort you. You didn’t need to know that the pro hero would rather have made you his home-doctor than ask you out. That way you’d be at his house, waiting for him, just like a pretty little wife, like a mother.

“I love you… think I always have.”

It felt good for Shouto to admit it out loud.

#yandere #yandere oneshot #todoroki shouto #yandere shouto #aphrodisiac #uh oh #Shouto lies #Shouto #bnha shouto #shouto x reader #shouto x y/n #yandere todoroki

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themonotonysyndrome · 3 years ago

Text

REDACTED verse - A special night

Prompt: Any Fandom | Any Characters/Pairings | Ordering a sweet treat to be delivered to the other person at home/work

Word Count: 2,136

Author/Team: LadyMonotone

Fandom/Original: Redacted ASMR (Gavin/Freelancer. Vincent Solaire/Lovely)

Rating: T

Triggers: NA

Summary: Having an Incubus boyfriend comes with many perks. The Freelancer and Lovely really should have seen it coming.

ConCrit: Y

Well, I guess this can be a sequel to my previous oneshot, REDACTED verse - Those that stood above the rest. I really wanted to write the Freelancer and Lovely interacting after their first, proper meeting so this oneshot suddenly comes to mind!

Exam week is the bane of every student, everywhere — even for the magical ones.

An uneasy atmosphere lingers around D.A.M.N as the current semester hurl the students into an intense week of revisions, study groups, and extra classes; all for the upcoming exams.

The seniors are frantically cramming for their final papers and projects under the watchful eyes of the lecturers. The Freelancer doesn't envy them one bit when they caught a Sonal Energetic screamed into his backpack for a solid ten minutes.

His scream shakes the student lounge, and the windows shattered.

Once he got that out of his system, he focused back towards his textbook, expressionless. The rest of the students around the Energetic hardly bat an eye over what just happened.

On that day, the Freelancer learned to avoid a large group of seniors until the exam week blows over.

"The tension alone in that lounge could make a Serenity Daemon hide underneath a bed." The Freelancer narrates their experience to Lovely. The two of them are currently having their own study session over at the Freelancer's apartment.

It's a beautiful Saturday afternoon, and yet here they are - flipping through textbooks, reviewing and swapping notes and downing cans of coffee and Red Bulls from as early as 9 AM. "Even the janitor wasn't fazed by it. He just snapped his fingers, and the windows were good as new!"

That night after their proper introduction, Lovely and the Freelancer had become quite good friends, much to Vincent's annoyance and Gavin's pleased smirk when the Freelancer told him that Lovely would be coming over for their study session.

"Aww, look you, Deviant. Arranging a little study date with that friend of yours," Gavin teased during breakfast this morning. They both woke up early to prepare meals that could last the Freelancer and Lovely throughout the whole day. When his Deviant absentmindedly replied, "Uh-huh" as they were busy chopping the vegetables, Gavin couldn't help but plant a fond kiss on top of their head. "Anyway, I'll be popping into Aria for a bit today. A few of my, ah, older brothers and sisters called for a meeting. Can I trust that you two won't be having too much fun without me?"

The Freelancer stopped chopping to gave their boyfriend a deadpan stare. "Gavin, we'll be studying." They explained. "Our first paper is literally next week. So I'm sorry to burst your bubble, but there won't be any fucking happening." They then stop themselves. They suddenly recalled something. "I don't want to be on that Solaire Prince's hit list too."

Gavin just cooed at their disgruntled partner, as if the genuine possibility that the both of them being shred to pieces by Lovely's possessive boyfriend amused him.

Nonetheless, Gavin pulled his weight to ensure there was enough food and comfortable pillows and blankets in their shared apartment so that his Deviant and the Electro Energetic would be comfortable for their revisions.

An hour before Lovely arrived, Gavin kissed the Freelancer goodbye and Rifted into his home dimension.

And now we're back in the present.

"I think those students around that guy were his classmates," Lovely commented. They take a quick sip of the lemonade that Gavin prepared to refresh their parched throat. Even in a simple pair of slacks, baggy t-shit, and hair pulled up in a bun, they still look as breathtaking as ever. "They reacted as if it was like a regular Tuesday for them. It's so crazy to think that we'll be seniors like them soon."

The Freelancer pours more lemonade into their glass from the pitcher beside them. Their books, notebooks and snacks are spread all over the dining table. A large and fluffy pillow is propped behind the Freelancer so they can lean back on their chair comfortably. "Urgh, mood. I can already imagine the coursework we'll be forced to do in our final semester." They groan. Their brain is fried from all the information and notes they've been reviewing since this morning. On top of that, the thought that they will be getting even more work once they hit their senior year is starting to freak them out.

Seeing the Freelancer is having an internal crisis, Lovely quickly glance at the time on their phone and decides, "OK, I think we seriously need a break. You look like you're going to pull a stunt similar to that Sonal Energetic, and I don't think your boyfriend appreciates coming back to a half-destroyed apartment."

"Gavin can fix the apartment with his magic, don't worry." The Freelancer is quick to assure Lovely. "He did that after he and Vega trashed the place anyway."

"Uh, what? Who's Vega?"

The Freelancer snapped their attention back to Lovely once they realised the name that they accidentally dropped. "N-Nothing! I didn't s-say anything!" They laugh awkwardly, doing their best to brush off Lovely's concerned expression. "Anyway, break! Yeah! That's a good idea! Are you hungry? We can watch something on Youtube and eat in the living room. You're OK with that?"

Lovely gingerly nods; it's best not to comment or ask about this Vega person since the name alone made their friend jumpy. They push their chair back, stretch their stiff spine, and get up to help set the plates and cutleries while the Freelancer heats the lunch they made in the morning.

They then move to the living room with a tray of food and drinks, where the couch and coffee table are surrounded by pillows and blankets thrown around messily.

"You play video games, right?" The Freelancer asked after Lovely settle down on the couch with a blanket over their lap. "Do you want to watch a playthrough or something?"

"Sure! Do you and Gavin play video games too?"

"Gavin does, though he usually only plays those dating sim games for girls. It's a guilty pleasure of his."

"Oh, Otome Games? My respect for your boyfriend just levelled up. Has he ever played Hatoful Boyfriend?"

"Uh... I don't remember he ever mentioned that title. What is it about?"

"We're watching a playthrough of that game. Right now. You can watch it with me, but you can't tell Gavin anything, OK? I promise you're going to love his reactions."

Lovely's eyes light up with glee and grin widely as the Freelancer switch on the Smart TV. When thumbnails of pigeons with pink hearts in the background pop up on the screen, they immediately throw an incredulous look at the Energetic.

"That top playlist is good to watch. Come on, sit beside me." Lovely pats on the empty spot on the couch beside them, unperturbed at the look the Freelancer is giving them. "I think you're going to like Okosan."

The Freelancer press play on the first video and kick back on the couch with the Energetic. What's better than having a break after a long study session? Hanging out with a friend with some good food while watching a crazy romance video game about pigeons!

However, when the fourth video starts to play, the doorbell rings.

"Uh... are you expecting someone?" Lovely asks curiously; their head is tilting towards the door. Their plate of eggplant pasta and buttered abalones are polished on their lap. The Freelancer internally preened when they enthusiastically complimented on theirs and Gavin's cooking skills.

Anyway, the Freelancer moves their empty tray onto the coffee table and flip over the blanket to get up. "Not really. Gavin said he'll be coming back home at night." They explain and went towards the door when the doorbell ring once more.

A delivery man greets the Freelancer with a stoic face, an armful of flower bouquet, and a thick, rectangular item wrapped in hot red packaging.

"I, uh, think you got the wrong address?" They said, confused to hell and back.

The delivery man blinks, unfaze at the Freelancer's greeting. "Good afternoon. Delivery for..." He pauses to read the card attached to the bouquet. "Deviant? We received a request from Gavin to arrange a flower bouquet and some... special chocolates. He also left a message for you: My Deviant has been working so hard lately~ So I got you something to... help you relax. PS: give some of the special chocolates to that gorgeous friend of yours and their boyfriend."

The Freelancer could only gape when the delivery man finished reciting Gavin's message. From the living room, Lovely is also doing an excellent mimicking of a goldfish. Their stunned expression made the man sigh tiredly. "Look, I'm not going to judge your... bedroom activities. Just take the packages already. I still have more stops to deliver."

"O-Oh my god! I'm really, really sorry about my boyfriend!" The Freelancer finally snaps out of it and stammers an apology. Their face is bright red. They hurriedly accept the flowers and package, shoot a quick thank you and slams the door shut.

Lovely watches as the Freelancer stares into the bouquet with a mixed feeling, something between fondness and extreme embarrassment, before they scream into the large sunflowers.

They patiently wait for the Freelancer to get it out of their system before Lovely delicately asks, "So, uh, does Gavin do these sort of things often?"

"No. This is the first time ever." The Freelancer replies. Their voice is muffled because the flowers are still pressed onto their face. "That's what I get for dating an Incubus, I supposed..."

"Aww, don't be embarrassed, dude! I think it's super sweet how much Gavin loves you. Flowers and chocolates? Boy got some serious game; might even give Vincent a run for his money, and you should've seen how we first met."

The Freelancer peeks through the petals and is relieved to find that Lovely wasn't put off by Gavin's forward nature. In fact, they are very accepting of the Freelancer and Gavin's relationship.

Feeling the warmth on their cheeks slowly disappearing, the Freelancer made their way back to the couch. The rectangular package is tossed onto the couch, and the bouquet is on the coffee table. The Freelancer figured they could put the fresh flowers in a water-filled vase later.

"The guy said that Gavin sent you some chocolates?" Lovely reiterate as the Freelancer began to untie the ribbon and unwraps the box.

"Special chocolates, and knowing Gavin, I kinda have an idea of what kind of chocolates they are." They admit and make quick work of tearing the paper wrappings.

Apparently, Gavin ordered two types of chocolates for his Deviant. One box holds a fancy gourmet assortment of salted almonds dipped in rich Belgium chocolate, double chocolate raspberry truffles, vanilla pieces powdered with light matcha and some white praliné hearts.

Lovely whistle, impressed over the spread. "Your boyfriend really went all out for you!"

The box below it contains rows of heart-shaped chocolates, but the short message written on the card of said box proves it's anything but ordinary treats.

'These are homemade chocolates made by one of my close associates. She's a Succubus, by the way, and renowned for her aphrodisiac desserts. You can try some first if your Energetic friend doesn't mind being a voyeur.'

The Freelancer promptly throws away the card and cues them, and Lovely shrieking in embarrassment. Neither of them expects the second batch of chocolates.

"These are sexy chocolates? Like, legit aphrodisiac chocolates made with magic!? Oh my god, I didn't know they were a thing!"

"I didn't either! I was expecting sex toys below the chocolates!"

"Wait - didn't Gavin wants to give these to Vincent and me!? Dude, does he has a thing for Vincent? Because at this point, I should tell you: he noticed that Gavin was purposely riling us up when they first met, and he's been thinking that your boyfriend is out to get him. But, uh, not in the sexy way, but I'm thinking otherwise now. And if that's the case, then you can warn that Incubus to be ready and catch these hands."

The Freelancer groans and hides their face in their hands. "OK, you know what? I'm going to put the special chocolates in the fridge, and then we'll continue watching a few more videos from the playthrough and get back to studying."

"... You're in denial."

"I'm just trying to keep whatever sanity I have left. It's been a crazy year."

"Urgh, tell me about it."

That night, at Lovely's and Vincent's apartment:

"Vincent, baby? I'm back. Look what I got!"

"Welcome home, Lovely. Dinner's ready if you're hungry. Hmm? What's that?"

"It's homemade aphrodisiac chocolates made by a Succubus. Gavin and the Freelancer gave some to us."

"...I'm gonna punch that Incubus in his smug ass face."

"...Does that mean you don't want them in the bedroom tonight?"

"OK, I'll punch him tomorrow. C'mere, Lovely. I've missed you."

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

#redacted asmr #fanfic #they/them pronouns #gender neutral s/o #freelancer (listener)#lovely (listener)#gavin #vincent solaire

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lilover131 · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter 55 Thoughts

It’s been a while since I’ve taken the time to actually write down my reactions and thoughts about a chapter, but after a agonizing 3 month wait for a new chapter, I had a lot of time to think about a lot of things. The final day was certainly the most difficult, and I slept horribly trying to wait for this chapter to come out (it’d be nice if companies could regularly list like....a release time on a certain date so people aren’t literally refreshing the page every 5 minutes to see if it’s up. Or at least have some consistency!). My lack of sleep and constant thoughts about CCS though did manage to stir another CCS related dream, which I will talk about in a separate post.

But hot damn was this chapter worth the wait! It certainly wasn’t what I expected, but it was really great in a lot of ways!

ANYWAYS, I’ve rambled enough. My thoughts on this chapter are below the cut!

So I will start off by praising the hell out of Sakura for her quick thinking in using SIEGE. That was definitely a wow moment for me and really shows her growth as a magic user and as a person honestly. This action not only spoke to her skill but also to how quick thinking she is in such an uncertain situation. Surely, having never had any reason to doubt Kaito or question his abilities before, It is almost unbelievable that she managed to think of that and do that in the mere seconds she had to respond after Syaoran made his accusation of Kaito. I’ve noticed as of late that her instincts in particular seem to be really really on point. She starting to trust herself and her feelings, and because of this, she is able to act without hesitation, and I have a feeling that is going to be extremely vital later on.

Sakura starts off by asking the real important questions and things I would ask myself in her shoes having just met another magic user, especially one with unclear intentions like Kaito. She seemed like she was studying him to gauge him and the reasons for his actions or what he might do. What intrigues me about this part is she first asks him if he knows about her being able to use cards. He answers with a simple “Yes”. But when she asks about if he knows about Syaoran, his answer is far less simple, and that might potentially be telling. Kaito stated that he knows Syaoran to be a “extremely gifted sorcerer” and “the next head of the Li clan”. Now, perhaps I’m overthinking this, but he could have just answered ‘yes’ like he did with Sakura, but instead he listed specific details about him that shows Sakura he has done his research and knows a lot about him. Now, we already knew that he had this information of course, but why does he want Sakura to know this in that moment? I’m fascinated by this and what he was trying to tell Sakura by telling her he had this sort of knowledge. Additionally, why is it that when it pertains to Syaoran, Kaito behaves so much differently than he does with anyone else? I’ll probably delve into that in another post, but I have some theories on that.

After making this statement, Sakura and Kaito exchange some meaningful looks, though it’s unclear what the both of them are thinking in that moment. Sakura turns to look back at Akiho and Syaoran and appears nervous, like she’s concerned about something (I have a theory to that as well, but I’ll leave that for another time). Then, Sakura mentions Momo and asks where she went, indicating that she has not forgotten about the other person around earlier. Sakura seems to really be evaluating her situation with these questions she’s asking, but unbeknownst to her, Momo has been cut off from her tv drama and is pouting in the mansion. hahahaha!

Momo, while upset that she can’t see what’s going on anymore, praises Sakura for her for her quick thinking and mentions that neither she or Akiho’s mother accurately predicted how powerful Sakura would become. The implications of this are unknown as it is unclear what they are trying to stop to begin with.

The scene changes back to Kaito and Sakura’s ‘standoff’, and Kaito states that Sakura cannot stay hidden in SIEGE’s field forever. I believe he was trying to stir a reaction and speed things up as probably the longer he has his time spell up, the more it affects his body, so he cannot afford to waste any more time. In what appears to be his way of showing desperation (at least in my opinion), he points his staff in Syaoran’s direction and threatens Sakura by stating that “He will make the first move” if she won’t. My jaw dropped a this, and though I don’t believe he actually had any intentions of hurting Syaoran, just the implications and threat of it was enough to make my blood boil. Lmao.

BUT ONCE AGAIN, SAKURA IS QUEEN and reacts ridiculously fast to protect her man and uses one of her newest cards, TRANSFER, to switch places with Kaito and....well...she put him in a box. Hahahaha!! Seeing Kaito all crammed in that small space inside of SIEGE was honestly so satisfying and it was nice to see him on the losing side for once. I can’t imagine he was happy about it either. He’s used to things going his way, and in this particular venture, it has been anything but.

However, this unfortunately also becomes Sakura’s downfall. By switching places with him, she put herself out of the protection she had before and was now affected by Kaito’s time magic. She managed to take a few steps, running towards Syaoran, before she ultimately was stopped. Kaito makes mention of her progress. When you think about it, she’s gone from being able to move a pinky to moving as far as she did this time, so it’s a significant growth.

He goes on to talk, though it’s unclear if Sakura could hear him at all, about a phrase Akiho had learned in her Japanese dictionary one time about “growing leaps and bounds”. He seemed lost in a memory where Akiho spoke of how she wished to improve her Japanese so she could become even better friends with Sakura and the others, and how happy she looked when she spoke of this. Honestly, this sentiment from Akiho is super relatable and resonated with me. I am fortunate to have so many friends in so many different parts of the world, and I absolutely love learning about their cultures and words of their native language so that I can become closer to them. But what also makes this moment so meaningful is that in this particular moment, Kaito is thinking about Akiho and her smile. One may wonder “Why is he saying this right now?”, but it really does display how much Akiho is on his mind and how much he cares about her and his reasons for doing all of this.

Shortly after saying this, he seems to be in pain again, showing once again the deterioration of his body the more he uses time magic, and it seems clear that he really is getting closer to his own demise. He even says as much when he pleads to Sakura to please make the card he needs soon, before he runs out of time. I don’t think he’s necessarily displaying a will to live or anything yet, but more a “I have to get this done before I perish, or it will all be for nothing”.

Disappointingly, time is rewound once again, and he takes it back to before he and Akiho decided on a location for their outing. @meimi-haneoka mentioned this, and I agree with her, but he could have rewound to any point in time and could have completely undone their entire day, but he chose to still have that outing with her anyways. It was a conscious choice he made, though he quite casually made sure they changed the choice of location (for obvious reasons). Lmao!!!

Now we get to the really exciting part. So after Kaito rewound time, I gave a big sigh and thought “Well, here we go again”, but something was very different this time. Sakura’s serious expression standing in her hallway said it all, and she suddenly grabbed her phone from her purse and called Syaoran, saying “We need to talk. It’s important”.

So Syaoran, being the most adorable worried boyfriend he is, runs into her house literally in the next panel and immediately asks if Sakura is okay. I can imagine that he probably ran the entire way to her house too, and it’s just so wholesome I can’t even. It’s crazy how well CLAMP shows the strength of their love just through small actions like these, and it really is a work of art with its subtleties.

Kero and Suppi have not been told why Sakura’s behaving so seriously, as she was waiting for Syaoran to get there first, but soon enough she tells them all at once about how she remembers using SIEGE at the botanical garden. This understandably confuses Syaoran, since in his mind they haven’t even gone there yet. But, she goes on to explain that she remembers using SIEGE, but more importantly that she remembers seeing Kaito using magic. This is HUGE. Not only is this progress (have we finally gotten out of rewind hell?), but this means that Sakura likely will not be nearly as affected by any time magic in the future. And if Kaito cannot make her forget about him using magic, that makes every action he does in the future very precarious. It’s unclear what the implications are of this revelation, but it’s going to entirely change how she reacts around Kaito, perhaps how she reacts around Akiho, and the dialogue she has with Syaoran. Syaoran should theoretically be able to talk to her now about Kaito and what he’s done so far and what they know, and I’m so so curious to see what Sakura will do with this knowledge. Will she be upset? Will she be mad? Certainly she won’t be happy to know that Kaito’s been forcibly keeping Syaoran silent, but Sakura is a forgiving person in nature, so it’s hard to say what she’ll do.

Anyways, this chapter was incredible and I cannot wait to see how this develops from now on. I have a feeling things are going to get real intense here soon now that Kaito can’t control things like he’s been doing a majority of the series. Things are definitely different now, and honestly it’s about fucking time.

#cardcaptor sakura #clear card #chapter 55 #spoilers #chrissy talks a lot #theories #analyzation #summary #thoughts #kaito #sakura #syaoran #akiho #momo #manga #clamp

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winetae · 5 years ago

Text

wall to wall (m.) 02

— female reader x hoseok

— smut, porn star!au

— sex work, insecurity, jealousy, slut shaming/objectification, role played scenario that includes: d/s dynamics - dom!hoseok, anal sex, sex toys, face fucking, double penetration, erotic massages, humiliation, degradation, porn star type dirty talk, squirting, creampie, lots of cum (and oil!)

— 19.7k

…

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

Your agent comes forward with a proposition to help put you back on the map.

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

part 01 | part 02 | part 03

author’s note | part 2 is finally here ! ! ty to jordan who has encouraged me literally every step of the way and to ella for supplying a never ending amount of hoseok gifs and pics when i most needed it :’) i’m sorry again for cutting the chapter into two parts but seeing as this entire chunk only amounted to 1/3 of my outline for part two it’s safe to say i would have never finished this fic otherwise ;;

(!) if you are particularly sensitive to humiliation/ degradation then maybe u should skip the smut scene bc jdjffjkfkddkd cries in tears of heaux

SCENE 03 - PULP FRICTION. TAKE 02. ROLL A.

It’s hard to guess how a project will be perceived by the general public. Sometimes a xxx feature film everyone believed would do well sells less than expected, and with online pirating becoming such a rampant and common occurrence, it’s harder to measure the impact of your work. Views and numbers are no longer a reliable indicator of one’s popularity. You’re lucky that you’re signed under such a big talent agency because at least you’re guaranteed regular paychecks, regardless of how well you perform. But to survive in this industry you’re conscious that you need more than that.

According to Seokjin and his expert advice, fans are the ones who will keep an adult entertainer’s career afloat for longer than the average six months. It doesn’t matter how good-looking or well endowed an actor is; if fans aren’t interested and invested, there’s a slim chance that they’ll pay money from their own pockets to view your work. And in order to build such a strong and dedicated fan base, you need one of several things: regular content and an active social media account.

It’s a careful line to tread; not enough online interaction can make people lose interest, but so can overexposure.

You’re patiently waiting for what Seokjin baptizes “The Big Breakthrough” - the decisive project that will propel you into superstardom. None of your videos have ever garnered that type of traction, however, and you’ve been stuck repeating the same old recycled scenarios of plumbers/pizza delivery boys coming over to get the fuck of their life.

When your latest video is uploaded online, you do your best to steer clear from social media. As much as you want to see what people think of your performance, it’s too nerve-wracking to deal with on an empty stomach. You know that if you begin scrolling through the comments, you’ll spend all day glued to your phone, constantly refreshing the page to check for feedback.

And while you aren’t the type of person who lets negative opinions affect your morale, you are nonetheless worried that your time in the industry is about to run out. Lately, the thought lingers ominously in the corners of your mind.

In times like these, exercise is one of the best distractions, second to maybe sex.

Pia, the yoga instructor, walks you through several routines, bending your body this way and that, until your head feels pleasantly blank, devoid for once of any stress and self-doubt. The hour long hot yoga class puts your overthinking mind to rest. In that moment even the notion of time ceases to matter.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.

The instructor turns off his meditation playlist while the room empties out, soft chattering replacing the chirping of birds and the sound of cascading water. Slowly, mind still fuzzy around the edges, you gather your belongings and head straight to the vending machine to get a much needed dose of caffeine.

As you dig around the contents of your purse for spare change, someone comes up from behind and taps your shoulder.

“Eep!” You catch your bag before it can slip from your grasp. “What—”

“Shit, sorry!”

When you spin around, hands clutched protectively over your chest to keep your heart rate steady, you don’t expect to come face to face with Hoseok, of all people.

He grins sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Didn’t mean to give you a scare. I, um, recognized you from afar and thought I’d come say hi.”

Now that the initial shock has faded, you’re free to admire the sight in front of you without any distractions.

As handsome as Hoseok looks under the bright studio lights with his hair styled and make-up applied, there’s something undeniably appealing about the way he appears now - with his hair mussed up and sweatpants riding dangerously low on his hips. While you normally prefer someone who puts more effort into their appearance, there’s something attractive and unpretentious about his casual demeanor that intrigues you.

Heat surges to the apple of your cheeks when you realize that you’re being too blatant with your ogling. Your eyes settle on his face - a safe zone, one that won’t cause any misunderstandings. It’s a nice sight to look at. Hoseok’s face is pretty, the absence of powder and contour not taking away from his handsomeness in the least. His skin glows in a way that can only be achieved post-workout or after an intense orgasm.

This train of thought brings you down a slippery slope. All too soon, your mind supplies images of his long cock filling you up over and over and over again, his lips whispering praise and filth in the same breath. Your gaze flits to his mouth as you recall how red and swollen they’d been after kissing you senseless, how sticky and wet they’d felt against your own, the taste of your own succulence bleeding into your mouth as your breaths intermingled.

“You’re - yes.” You clear your throat, embarrassed by the way you’d quickly let your thoughts spiral out of control. “It’s fine, you just - caught me off guard. How’ve you been?”

Since you last dicked me down, goes unsaid.

“Just finished teaching a class a few minutes ago. I’ve got a 30 minute break before the next one starts.” He checks his watch. “Well, eleven minutes now.”

“You teach here?” You raise your brows, taken aback by his revelation.

Not that it isn’t uncommon for adult entertainers to work two jobs - or more. You’ve run into a variety of cases since joining the industry. Some do porn on the side, as a hobby or as a way to make a quick buck. They quit the moment porn becomes tedious or when they’ve made enough money to pay back their loans. For you, however, it’s not like that. What started off as amateur cam work has now become your whole life. You can’t imagine doing anything else, even if it means going against your family members’ wishes. They could go suck on a rancid cock, for all you cared.

“Yep, sure do. I teach the morning Pilates class on Wednesdays and Thursdays. Funny how I’ve never run into you before, huh?”

He takes a few coins out of his left pocket and inserts them into the vending machine. “Here, get whatever you want.”

“You don’t—”

“My treat.”

You want to argue but Hoseok’s too beguiling for his own good. It doesn’t take much for you to be won over; Hoseok’s smile widens and you’re a goner.

It’s that easy.

You’re not sure if it’s because you’ve seen each other naked before or if the earlier yoga session has successfully weakened your defenses, but you’re not as wary as you usually would be around people you don’t know well. Distrust runs in your veins yet something about Hoseok has you lowering your guard.

Based on your observations, there’s nothing calculated behind his gestures and mannerisms. The blinding grin, the jokes, the way people easily get pulled into his magnetic field - it’s not a facade or an act or a fluke. It’s just the way he is.

Hoseok leans against the vending machine and watches you press in the numbers for your order. From the corner of your eye, you see him studying your profile with a degree of intensity that makes you self-conscious. You swallow down the urge to fidget.

And it’s - silly. He’s seen you bare and at your most exposed, has kissed and touched the entirety of your body from head to toe, but this quiet moment feels strangely intimate, more so than when he’d slid his cock inside of you for the first time. Perhaps it’s due to the absence of cameras and prying eyes or the knowledge that right now you’re both real people, stripped of your porn star persona exterior.

Your eyes meet.

There’s nothing predatory or hungry about his gaze. The passion and the love he’d expressed so naturally during your filmed scenes are no longer detectable. Right now he’s Jung Hoseok, not a character with a role to play. This is all him - the dark circles, the relaxed smile, the slight slouch in his shoulders.

“About—” He clears his throat. “About the other day. The guy that was with you...”

You know without needing clarification who and what he’s talking about. You run your tongue across your row of teeth, wiping away the cheap coffee’s aftertaste, and nod for him to continue.

“He give you a hard time?” Hoseok’s eyes don’t stray from yours. He looks concerned. Serious. “Afterwards I - I regretted leaving so soon. I didn’t want to - I wasn’t sure. But, regardless, I should have made sure you were okay before leaving you alone with him.”

“Oh.”

Realization sinks in. Your eyes widen and you splutter, flustered. “No, no. It’s nothing like that. Jimin - he’s my boyfriend.”

It’s hard to appreciate the concern when all you feel is shocked that someone could misinterpret your relationship for a perverted staff member preying on an unsuspecting porn actress. Although it’s unfortunately common practice in the industry, it’s so far removed from what you share with Jimin that you’re at a loss for words.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Hoseok immediately rubs his face in embarrassment. “I thought - sorry. I’m a dumbass. Ignore me.”

“It’s -” You shake your head. “It’s fine.”

An awkward silence ensues.

You occupy the void by sipping on the bitter vending machine coffee, your eyes glued to your toenails peeking out the top of your sandals. Any other time, you’d fret over the chipping nail polish and rush to schedule an appointment at the nail salon, but your thoughts are so jumbled up that you can barely string a coherent sentence together.

Jimin - he isn’t anything like what Hoseok’s implying. Implied. You know this. But the fact that someone could mistake him as such doesn’t sit right with you. You want to defend him but at the same time you don’t know what to say.

“I just,” he sighs, breaking the silence. “I’ve seen it happen before. I’m sorry I assumed the worst. I guess I’m too paranoid for my own good. I hope I didn’t offend you too much. Or him.”

“No - I’m - I understand.” You give him a small smile to let him know you don’t harbor any ill feelings over the mistake. Hoseok seems so genuinely sorry about the entire situation that it’s impossible to hold it against him.

It’s possible, you think. To misinterpret your relationship with Jimin. The situation back then had been so tense - you remember that better than anyone. Given the context, Hoseok had every right to be mistrustful, especially when no one had bothered to set the record straight.

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“There’s no harm done.” You hesitate before continuing, “I’m that way too, you know. I tend to think the worst of people when I probably shouldn’t. I thought - I was worried about you at first, too. When we met. Not because - it wasn’t anything against you personally. I’m just distrustful. But I’m glad - that it was you and not someone else.”

His posture relaxes. “Thank you. I’m glad that it was you, too. And that I was able to prove you wrong about me. With the shit you hear and see happening on set… I don’t blame you for being on your guard.”

“Yeah. Maybe we’ll - oh. I think someone’s calling you.”

Hoseok follows your line of sight to where a small group of his students are huddled behind the glass panel separating the Pilates classroom from the hallway leading down to the changing rooms. They’re all female and look around your age, maybe younger. The one who had been waving her arms wilts under the attention of her teacher, blush high on her cheeks, while her group of friends dissolve into a fit of giggles.

“Ah. That’s my cue.” Hoseok sighs in apology, the corner of his lips tugged downwards into a pout. “Sorry. Would’ve loved to get coffee and catch up but alas. Duty calls.”

“Next time.”

“Yeah, definitely. I’ll hold you up to that. And it’ll be proper coffee next time! Promise.”

“Okay, deal,” you agree easily. “I’ll buy.”

He looks somewhat offended. “What - no, that’s not what I meant.”

“It’s only fair.” You gesture at the half-empty plastic coffee cup still warm against your palm.

Hoseok opens his mouth to object but a short-haired woman pokes his head out the open door. “Yo, teach! Wasn’t class supposed to start five minutes ago?”

“I’m coming!” Hoseok shouts back, waving his student back inside. “Arrogant brat.”

“Go, go!” You urge, holding yourself from physically pushing him towards the classroom. His group of students look like they’re willing to jump you if you keep hogging his attention.

“We’ll Rock Paper Scissors it!” He says while jogging backwards. “Gotta run but see you around, yeah?”

Your lips pull into an amused smile as you watch him retreat back to his classroom. Through the glass panel, you can see the horde of girls flock around him, each vying for his attention in different ways. You’re especially impressed by how one almost succeeds in drowning Hoseok in her generous cleavage.

The sight of Hoseok dealing with thirsty college girls is so ridiculous you can’t help but giggle. You’re tempted to attend one of his classes just to watch them all trip over each other in an attempt to seduce him. Maybe you could even learn a thing or two.

With that thought in mind, you leave the gym center in high spirits, feeling refreshed and rejuvenated, ready to tackle on whatever hurdles the day decides to throw your way. You hum along to a top 40 hit they constantly play on the radio and decide to stop by your favorite restaurant to get take-out before heading home.

As you get into your car, you turn on your phone you’d disregarded all morning and are immediately notified of five missed calls and several unread text messages. More than half are - unsurprisingly - from your agent. You’re tempted to ignore him for an hour or two longer but you know how he gets once his patience runs thin.

“Don’t tell me you were out with Jimmy again,” Seokjin groans once you decide to call him back.

“I was with Hoseok, actually.”

“Hoseok?” Seokjin instantly perks up on the other side of the line. “As in, Jung Hoseok? J-Hope? Your baby daddy? That Hoseok?”

You contemplate ending the call.

Begrudgingly you concur, “Yes. That one.”

“Oooooh. Do tell,” he eggs, the smugness in his tone so thick that you can visualize it.

“It wasn’t - whatever scandalous thought you’re thinking. He works at the gym I go to. What are the chances, right?”

“What are the chances indeed.” Despite the lack of juicy gossip, he sounds pleased. “The news I rang you for earlier involves him.”

“How so?”

“Your video with Hoseok has been the number 1 trending video on Bang Gang’s home page since this morning!” He squeals, enthusiasm making the volume of his voice raise by a notch. “People are eating that romantic insemination stuff for breakfast and lunch. The views on this are insane! We haven’t gotten such a big reaction since the Agust D teacher-student role play and that was ages ago.”

“Wh- Are you serious?!”

Unable to contain the elation that surges through your chest, your face breaks out into a giant grin.

You’re admittedly the first to say that the number of views doesn’t equate to one’s talent or prowess in bed, but you also can’t completely disregard what this particular achievement implies...

While belonging to a reputable agency has its perks, it also entails continuous competition with big names. Your coworkers are also your competitors. Every month the most successful porn stars are rewarded and praised, whilst the ones who rake in the least amount of views are cast aside and are fated to fade into anonymity.

As much as you hate to acknowledge it, you’ve never had the support or interest it takes to contend for 1st place on any popularity polls or rankings of the sort. On Wednesdays, it so happens that the number one trending video spot is usually occupied by a popular femdom porn star who’s been in the game long enough to have secured a loyal fanbase.

Seokjin understands and empathizes with your excitement more than anybody.

“Yes, I’m serious! I think this is It, you know? Your Big Breakthrough, the moment we’ve been waiting for. You’ve been doing well so far but I think we’ll be able to go mainstream with this,” he chatters on, excitement building with every word. “Director Ryu said he’d personally call you up later to congratulate you, so don’t turn off your phone and ignore your calls, okay? I think he wants to ask you to film in his next movie but he didn’t discuss the details with me. Whatever it is - please say yes. I know the guy is a little pompous old fart but he really has an eye for this sort of thing. Casting you and Hoseok in the same film was the work of God. The chemistry between the two of you is unreal, no wonder people are jacking off to this at 10 am while they eat their cereal.”

You think it’s too early to rejoice in the success of your video considering the majority of the viewers are sleeping or busy at work - but when THE SPERMINATOR retains its number one ranking for the remainder of the week, you know your achievement deserves to be properly celebrated.

True to Seokjin’s word, Director Ryu does end up calling you. He wants to work with you and Hoseok again for a new film - and possibly more.

“A multi-film contract? You want to sign one with me?”

“How could I not? You’re both naturals and work well together. More importantly, the camera loves you. And people are on board with the pairing already! I think it’s a good idea to capitalize on their interest, don’t you think?”

It doesn’t take much more to convince you — not that you need any convincing at this point.

You refuse to be a flash-in-the-pan star. Although you admittedly had your reservations at first, the unexpected success of the last film is all Ryu needs to persuade you.

And - you like Hoseok. It goes without saying that there are far worse people to be partnered up with. Besides, it’s easier to work with co-stars you’ve starred in movies with previously for multiple reasons. Your acting is much more likely to come off as natural if you’re already acquainted with the dick that’s about to split you open - at least, that’s what you tell yourself.

When you mention the possibility of working again with Hoseok, your boyfriend doesn’t seem to share your enthusiasm.

“So it’s not a one time thing?” He’s not looking at you directly, his attention fixed instead on the freshly brewed coffee he nurses in his hands.

“I mean—” You smile tentatively. “Director Ryu hasn’t said for how long he’ll keep hiring us for his projects. Maybe - maybe he’ll keep the format and hire different actors in the future? He - he didn’t really say. I don’t think he has much of an idea himself. He’s very...peculiar.”

You force out a laugh, but your attempt to lighten up the atmosphere falls flat.

“I see.” Jimin brings the coffee cup to his mouth to hide his grimace.

You don’t need to see his dejected expression to know that he isn’t pleased with this development.

“Do you - is there something wrong with Hoseok?” You hesitate, unsure of how he’ll reply.

Jimin’s never insisted you step down from a project before or expressed his dissatisfaction with any of your ‘artistic choices’, although you always imagined that someday, somewhere down the line, he might. Compared to your past dalliances, Jimin is understanding and empathetic. You don’t expect him to be perfect, however, especially when you yourself are far from that. Everyone must have their own personal limits, right? It’s unfair to ask Jimin to be accepting all the time.

It’s just that...the timing is bad.

You want to take his feelings into consideration, but you’re also aware that this might be your last opportunity to get your name out there once and for all. Your previous works have never tanked, so to speak, but they’d mostly gone by unnoticed. While you’ve managed to make ends meet in the past, such anonymity cannot go on for much longer if you want to remain in this line of work.

Your lipstick wears off as you bite your lower lip. Silence hangs heavy in the air.

Jimin sets down his cup of coffee and averts his gaze.

“No. No, there’s nothing wrong with him.”

You breathe out in relief, only now realizing you’d been holding in your breath as you awaited his answer.

“It’s a bit difficult,” he admits after a pause. “Watching both of you together... Not because it’s bad! You did really good last time. You always do, but - saying ‘I love you’, that kind of stuff, it’s - I don’t know. It’s not your fault, though! I just need some time to adjust. Next time shouldn’t be as strange - since I know what to expect...”

You blink slowly as your brain registers the confession. His words echo in your ears and a strong feeling of déjà-vu washes over you. He’d said something along those lines before, hadn’t he?

Jimin shrugs like it’s no big deal before continuing, “As for Hoseok... He seems like a good person, I guess. I don’t think he’s the problem. Whether it’s him or another guy...” He sighs. “I think I just need to work this out on my own. It’s not like I can ask you to turn down a job offer because of me, right?”

Guilt makes your stomach turn. He’s right. As much as you want to respect his feelings, you can’t bring yourself to turn down the job for his sake. Does that make you selfish? Does he think less of you for it?

“Alright...” When you reach out to take his hand in yours, his skin is surprisingly cold to the touch. “You’ll tell me if it ever bothers you, okay? Filming this - or anything else. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable with what I do...”

You’re not sure what you’ll do if that moment ever comes to pass. Work is your number one priority in life. Many of your relationships haven’t worked out because of that very reason but your past lovers’ dissatisfaction hadn’t been enough to change your mindset. After all, work is what helps put money on the table, not love. You shake your head, as if the action will help you get rid of your stressful thoughts.

Jimin nods as he interlaces his fingers with yours. On normal days, holding hands together puts your mind at rest. You love the way his hand fits in yours, the different skin tones blending into one.

Right now, his pale hand feels unnaturally cold against your own. It feels like winter itself is embracing you and you repress a shiver.

Maybe as his girlfriend it’s not the right choice to make, but — you can’t falter now. It physically pains you to admit it but Seokjin’s worrying isn’t unfounded. Your career is stagnant, your projects predictable and boring. You’re not bad at your job, but you don’t stand out amidst the sea of pretty girls hoping to make a name for themselves.

There’s no guarantee that Director Ryu’s new project will be as successful as the first. You’re no stranger to false hopes; there’s a chance that Seokjin’s wishful thinking might never amount to anything. Even so, you want to give it a shot. Not trying feels too much like giving up and giving up is not an option you’re willing to consider, not when you’ve already put so much on the line.

You’re not a quitter. Seokjin had warned you from day one that it wouldn’t be easy and you’d taken his lessons and warnings to heart. You’d become an adult entertainer fully aware of the trials and tribulations you’d have to face and had been prepared to make the necessary sacrifices in order to achieve your goals.

But are the risks truly worth it? Looking at Jimin’s dejected expression, you’re not so sure anymore.

They’ve really gone all out this time, you muse as you cast a cursory glance at your surroundings. A small, electric waterfall fountain sits in the far right corner and crimson colored scented candles are dispersed all around the elaborate massage parlor set-up, dousing the room in a cosy, amber glow. It’s a surprising sight because porn sets are famous for never focusing on the details. Viewers are here for the sex, not the generic backdrop of a rented room or hotel suite.

Director Ryu vehemently protests.

“That’s precisely what sets apart my works from your average pornography film. I want the viewer to be completely immersed in the movie they’re watching. Porn is too constricting and underwhelming a word. What I’m creating is a feast for the eyes, one that leaves a lasting impression after consumption.”

“Ah... Yes.” You try (and fail) to sound impressed.

“People want to believe the sex is real, even if it’s just for an hour.” He sighs deeply, sounding pained, like explicating such a simple fact isn’t worthy of his time. “They need the escape and it’s our job to make it happen. A few extra candles might not make a colossal difference at first glance. But that’s where you’re wrong! It’s never been about the candles. It’s about the ambiance! The visual experience!”

It’s a pity the new budget doesn’t extend to your wardrobe, you remark internally as your gaze drops to observe the stylists’ pick of the day.

For the upcoming scene, you’ve been instructed to squeeze into a tight, baby pink shirt that stretches obscenely over your bust like something straight out of a frat boy’s wet dream. Inwardly, you congratulate yourself for hitting the gym religiously because your clothes—or lack thereof—put everything on display. The cotton material of your shirt is so thin, you’re surprised the stitches haven’t popped out, while the denim bottoms you sport are so tiny that you could hardly qualify them as shorts. Although—you suppose that there isn’t any use debating over semantics. It’s not as if they’ll stay on long enough for it to matter.

The scenario that you’ll be acting out today is pretty straight-forward. You stop by the parlor to cash in a voucher gifted by a generous and thoughtful friend. Hoseok, who plays the role of an erotic masseuse, gives you a deep tissue body massage worthy of a five star review on Yelp.

Director Ryu is extremely proud of the pitch. His spectacles glint as he pushes them up the bridge of his long nose.

“We’re gonna call it My Bare Lady. Haha, get it?” He gloats. “It’ll be different from our last shoot - the both of you aren’t supposed to be acquainted with each other at all. In fact, there won’t be any romance. We’re aiming for something new because as artists, it’s our duty to reinvent ourselves every day. Complacency is the enemy of creativity.”

At the mention of Hoseok, your gaze flits over in his direction.

His brown hair, two shades lighter than the last time you’d run into him, is swept to the side, giving him a professional and tidy appearance. He’s swapped his workout attire for beige scrub pants and a matching shirt. The color compliments the glow of his tan and the cut of the uniform is flattering to his figure. Diretor Ryu’s speech continues despite your wavering focus.

“—visual stimulation. That’s why one shouldn’t underestimate the proper use of props. A believable setting sets the tone for the rest of the scene. If you don’t believe the role you’ve been given, then why should the audience?”

“Mhm,” you nod here and there but you’ve long stopped paying attention to his one-sided speech.

Your eyes linger on Hoseok’s arms and the dimples that appear every time he laughs. You’re not the only one who stares. A small group of admirers flock to him like bees swarming around a rare and exotic flower.

You’d noticed it before but today confirms it; Hoseok’s presence is riveting. It’s not the first time today your gaze has strayed his way. More than once, you find your eyes drawn to him like a moth to a flame only to quickly avert your gaze whenever your eyes meet. Each time, the right side of his mouth quirks into a half-smile, the beginning of a question forming on his lips.

It’s embarrassing to be caught red-handed gawking but, in your defense, you aren’t the only one who ogles him—and many of them are far less discreet than you try to be, some gazes curious, others downright lecherous.

It bothers you. What exactly do you and everyone else find so fascinating about his character? He’s good-looking, sure—but you’re no stranger to handsome and pretty co-stars with nicely shaped dicks. You can’t put a finger on what sets him apart from the rest.

The gaffer comes over and momentarily interrupts the flow of Director Ryu’s monologue with a personal inquiry. Thank God. You use the opportunity to slip away, grateful that someone has put an end to your misery. As thankful as you are to the director for the career opportunity, you could do without his long-winded speeches that never seem to end.

“Hey, Hoseok.”

His smile widens, the corners dimpling the moment he spots you. “Hey! It’s been a while. Who would’ve thought we’d get to work again so soon, huh?”

“I didn’t think our last movie would do so well, honestly.”

Without its success, who knows what kind of movie you’d be participating in right now? Another re-hashed version of ‘BABYSITTER GETS CREAMED’ type scenario, most probably.

“I guess that’s a testament to your acting skills, right?”

You smile back, sheepish but nevertheless pleased. It always feels nice to be complimented, especially on days like today when you’re feeling less confident than usual.

“You changed up your hair.”

“Yeah! I thought I needed a change.” He threads his fingers through his locks self-consciously. “It looks fine, right?”

“It does!” you agree with an enthusiastic nod.

Jimin, who had insisted to be present on set today, hovers on the edge of your periphery. In the back of your mind you know he means well—that his presence is meant to be a source of support and security. On a typical day, you’re relieved that someone you trust is close by in case the situation escalates. While you’ve never had any horrific experiences, there have been the occasional uncomfortable encounters behind the scenes. Thankfully, Seokjin or Jimin have always stepped in before whichever entitled asshat could get too handsy.

But for the first time, his presence doesn’t comfort you the way it usually does.

Your smile becomes stiff.

The last thing you want is for Jimin to misunderstand the situation... Despite his claims of not having any problems with you shooting again with Hoseok, you can’t forget the stony expression on your boyfriend’s face as he had stared your co-star down, his grip around your waist strong and possessive.

“Are you okay?” Hoseok inquires, noticing your change in attitude. Worry creases his brow. He takes a step forward as if to check up on you.

“I’m okay!” You wave your hands around in the air, if only to maintain the distance separating your figures.

Despite your energetic reassurances, Hoseok looks unconvinced. He tilts his head to the side, his eyes narrowing in concern.

You wrack your head for an acceptable excuse. “Maybe I have pre-performance jitters? It’s nothing serious, though!”

It’s not too far from the truth, either. You feel more nervous than usual... Maybe because you’re aware that today’s shoot will most likely make or break your career. If the results prove to be disappointing, you don’t want to imagine what that means for your future.

You shake your head, refusing to accept any talks of early retirement.

But what other choice will you have, your inner voice argues. If no one is interested in viewing your works, no production company will want to book you for their movies. Even if you’re able to shoot half a dozen films after this failed attempt, the interest and support from viewers and higher-ups will soon dry up.

Hoseok’s features soften.

“Look, I know we don’t know each other that well yet, but if my opinion means anything... I think you’re really amazing.” His deep brown eyes reflect sincerity. “I haven’t had this much fun performing with anyone before and it’s not just ‘cos you’re fucking hot.” He laughs to cover up his embarrassment. “Maybe it’s a bit of a reach to compare the two, but porn is a bit like dancing in a way. There’s a choreography to follow, a certain rhythm and mood you have to get into. But the most important part is the chemistry and trust between you and your partner. And you - when I perform with you, it doesn’t feel like I’m acting at all. Not many people have that ability. For what it’s worth, I think you’re pretty special.”

“T-thanks,” you stutter in reply, taken aback by his candor. “I appreciate that.”

You’re not the only one caught off-guard by Hoseok’s frankness. He rubs the back of his neck and chuckles to fill up the momentary lapse in conversation. A bashful smile inches its way across his face, but surprisingly he doesn’t break eye contact.

You quickly change subjects, unwilling to acknowledge the slight fluttering in your stomach.

“...So, you dance?”

It’s not the smoothest transition, but Hoseok’s face instantly lights up.

“Yes! I mean,” he pauses and clears his throat. “Not professionally. I minored in dance. But it’s something I definitely enjoy, you know, to blow off some steam. Ah, wait a sec—”

He takes out his phone to show you short video clips of his dancing. He pulls up his instagram account and scrolls through an eclectic mix of mirror selfies showcasing his bold fashion choices, dog pics, and videos of him working out and dancing.

“Here’s a recent one.”

You don’t know much about dance but in spite of your little knowledge in the subject, your eyes stay transfixed on the screen in front of you. “Whoa...”

The way he moves is enthralling, for lack of a better word. You know from experience that his body is flexible and agile, lithe and strong, but seeing it in action like this leaves you speechless, momentarily robbed of coherency. You can’t even describe it. His execution of the choreography is sharp and powerful, yet his body doesn’t look rigid. On the contrary, his movements are surprisingly fluid and he never misses a single beat. You watch in astonishment as he pushes himself off of his knees after bending backwards in one fell swoop.

“Eh? Is it even possible to move your body that way?” Surely if you try to mimic him, you’ll look like a flailing chicken. “That can’t be safe...”

Hoseok laughs at your shocked expression. “It takes a lot of practice. You should come to a workshop one day! My friend teaches beginners. He’d be glad if you could join. The more the merrier, right? You don’t need to know any of the basics... And if you’re worried about people poking fun—don’t. Dancing isn’t a competition or anything.”

“I dunno.” You hand him back his phone after watching the video loop back for a second time. “I think my back would crack if I attempted any of that.”

“I think you would do really well! You’re pretty flexible and I don’t think you need to worry about stamina. Your core muscles are also really well developed. Based on what I’ve seen, you have a good sense of balance and beat awareness, so even if you’ve never danced before, you have the body and disposition for it.”

“Well... I guess I—”

“Hey.” Jimin interrupts, plump lips curved into a polite smile. You try not to let your surprise show; you hadn’t even noticed him approaching. He kisses your cheek and slides his hand into yours, clasping it between his own. “Sorry to interrupt, doll. Seokjin wanted to have a word with you before the shoot.”

“Oh.” You blink, your eyes darting back and forth between Jimin and Hoseok. “Um...if you don’t mind?”

“That’s straight,” Hoseok steps back, shoving his hands down his pockets. He shoots you a tentative smile. “I’ll catch you later.”

You feel bad for ditching him mid-conversation after he’d been so nice, but you know how annoying your agent can get when ignored for too long.

Jimin’s fingers tighten around yours. When you look up, he’s pouting, his lips pursed and brows drawn together.

“Is something on your mind?”

You can see the hesitation flicker across his face. When he finally meets your gaze, his expression is troubled.

“It’s nothing...” He looks away again and the grip he has on your hand loosens.

“Hm.” You swallow down any further inquiries, worried you’ll upset him.

“What was that about, anyway?” he asks casually, trying his best to look uninterested. “You and Hoseok look like you’re getting along well.”

“Yeah.” The memory of your previous conversation makes you smile softly despite yourself. “He’s a nice guy.”

“I can imagine.” Jimin mutters under his breath. Before you have time to question him again, he straightens his spine, his features twisting into an apologetic expression. “Look, I gotta help setting up the cameras. I’ll see you after the shoot.”

“Ah... Alright.” You fight to keep the disappointment of your face. Since you only have a few minutes before filming begins, you’d been hoping to spend it with him.

As if reading your mind, Jimin leans in and kisses you, his plush lips soft and familiar against your own. You expect him to pull away after a few seconds but his left hand slots itself behind your neck, bringing you in closer to deepen the kiss. His other hand angles your head to the side, giving him more access, and he doesn’t waste any time before brushing his tongue against the roof of your mouth.

You respond to the kiss as if on auto-pilot, but your thoughts are all jumbled in your head. Jimin’s always been a good kisser but he’s rarely kissed you quite like this. His style is more of a slow-burn, the kind that slowly creeps up on you and leaves your whole body numb with pleasure. Every press of his lips feels like a silent prayer of worship and each swipe of his tongue tastes like adoration. You like that he takes his time, like you’re not just a quick meal to curb his hunger but a delicacy worthy of being savored.

Right now, this kiss feels unfamiliar. Urgency replaces devotion. Perhaps it’s because he’s short on time, but his touch is hurried and sloppy. He bites your lower lip, hard enough for it to hurt, and licks into your mouth when you mewl out a gasp of surprise.

“I wish I could just mark you up,” he pants against your parted lips. They feel tender when you smack them closed.

“The makeup artist is going to strangle you for messing up my lipstick.” You fake a scowl. You’re not half-wrong, though. Once she sees how swollen they’ve become she’s bound to take out her frustration on the closest available victim. “If you marked me for real, she’d probably kill you. Don’t tempt her.”

He chuckles and pulls back, letting his hands fall to his side. His eyes dart to somewhere behind your shoulder, his smile curving into a smirk.

“You’re right.” He sighs, looking back at you. “But that’s easier said than done. You’re hard to resist... Anyone would agree.”

Something dark clouds his eyes but whatever it is, it’s gone in the next blink.

You laugh, pleased nonetheless by his flattery. “Didn’t you say you had to help set up? You’re going to end up in trouble because of me…”

Jimin snorts but backs up all the same. “Don’t worry about me. Besides, you’re worth getting in trouble for.”

Someone behind you gags dramatically. “Absolutely sickening.”

When you whirl around, your agent shoots you a disgusted glare. “I was wondering what was taking you so long but I should’ve known you two were out here fabricating babies. Have you no shame?”

“I’ll see you after the shoot!” Jimin says quickly, eager to get away from Seokjin and his sharp tongue.

“See you.” You smile sweetly, ignoring Seokjin’s grumbling. You feel a pang of jealousy as you watch him scurry out of sight. If only you could avoid Seokjin’s pre-performance motivational speeches...

“Anyways.” Seokjin looks noticeably less irritated once Jimin is gone. “I wanted to check up on you before filming could begin. How’s your ass doing?”

You don’t bother hiding your grimace. “Squeaky clean and stretched.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” He sounds proud. “Don’t make that face. It’s your first anal scene after all. Doesn’t hurt to be prepared, right?”

By ‘be prepared’ he means following a strict diet prior to shooting, waking up at the ass crack of dawn to get a colonic, stretching out your asshole for a good thirty minutes using a fuck ton of lube, and constantly rehydrating yourself throughout the day to the point where you’d gone to the bathroom more times than you could count on one hand.

You’re never this thorough with prep before having anal but apparently that’s the difference between fucking in the privacy of your own home and on camera.

“There’s a reason why cleanliness is one of the fundamentals of anal sex, especially when shooting porn. It’s a pain...in the ass...but this way, no one sees something they’d rather not see,” had explained Seokjin after giving you a non-exhaustive list of detailed steps to follow. You suppose there’s logic behind his reasoning. Due to the magic of 4k-quality videos, viewers can now easily see everything, down to the sweat droplets dotting your hairline and any makeup-covered skin imperfections, so you don’t want to imagine what they’ll notice once the camera zooms in on your back entrance.

“Eventually you’ll get used to squeezing water out your bum on the regular.” He shrugs. “You’ll also start to avoid certain foods on your own. The dietary restrictions aren’t that bad, all things considered, and your body will thank you for eating more spinach than you’re used to. Greens are good for your health even if they taste like yuck.”

Athough his suggestions are well-intended, you don’t need another 25 minute speech on all the know-hows of filming anal sex. The first time had been more than enough.

“Thanks for the advice!” you interject right as he opens his mouth to continue his counseling. “That reminds me I need to get this butt plug out of my ass before we start shooting.”

Seokjin sighs. “That would be preferable, yes.”

He doesn’t need to know that you’ve taken out the butt plug in the bathroom half an hour ago. Any excuse will do, as long as you’re spared from listening to his passionate discourse on the benefits of high-fibre food diets and his long list of enema tutorial video recommendations.

The fussing, you think, is unnecessary. You’re not worried about the upcoming sex scene, even if it will be the first time someone other than your partner sees you in that position. No, what troubles you is the possibility of the audience growing tired of seeing you onscreen now that they’ve witnessed you take it up the ass. Boredom is the reason why so many of your peers are forced to end their careers prematurely, after all. Why else is Seokjin so adamant about you pacing yourself and not filming everything there is to film right off the bat? You’ve always held off shooting anal, double penetration and the likes, for that very reason. Although you have no qualms with the act itself, you’re worried that you’re now one step closer to retirement.

The thoughts sit on your shoulders like a heavy weight as you get ready for the scene to come. You listen to Director Ryu’s instructions as he describes the scenario’s key points, your character’s motives, and what sex positions you should include before the scene comes to an end.

“The rest is up to you,” he says with an encouraging nod. “I want the words to come from the heart! Let yourself be a vessel, a way for your character to express their innermost desires.”

“Leave it up to us.” Hoseok’s smile radiates confidence.

“I like your enthusiasm!” Director Ryu approves, clapping his hands together. He misses the way his two leading actors exchange exasperated glances over his shoulder. “Good, then we’re all set? Remember where the cameras are positioned, please, or else we’ll have to reshoot to get the right angles.”

“Got it.” You nod, eager to get this show on the road. Between him and Seokjin, your ears are about to fall off from the incessant chattering. Even the camera men are starting to grow restless.

Speaking of... You meet Jimin’s gaze, the sides of your mouth upturning the moment you spot him. As usual, he looks slightly out of place standing between the other crew members, his white, ironed dress shirt neatly tucked into his black pants providing a stark contrast with his co-workers’ unkempt appearance.

Jimin mirrors your smile and your shoulders immediately relax. A lot of people may not understand why you’d allow your boyfriend on set while you’re fucking someone else, but his presence brings you a strange sense of comfort that’s hard to put into words.

The sound of your name being called pulls you from your line of thought.

“Can you scoot over to the right? Just a little.” Director Ryu orders while glancing at the monitor. “Yes, that’s much better. And can we fix the lighting, please? My shadow’s getting picked up by the camera.”

Now that the start of the shoot is right around the corner, your stomach cramps up with a nervous kind of anticipation. Your tongue feels like cotton in your mouth and even when you swallow, the unpleasant feeling doesn’t go away.

You clasp your hands together in your lap to hide the minute trembling of your fingers. It’s strange, you think. Ever since you started working with Hoseok, you always get too wrapped in your thoughts. Not necessarily in a bad way, at least not all the time, but --

“You all good?” Hoseok asks, low enough that the mics won’t be able to pick up his questioning. “Do you need some water?”

You shake your head. “I’m good, thanks.”

He hesitates but doesn’t push. “I just wanna run this with you one last time. I know we already signed the consent forms but I’d feel better talking with you about the scene directly.”

“Oh.” You remember he’d done something similar last time, too. “Sure.”

“Anal aside, are you okay with the use of degrading names during the scene?” His eyes never leave yours, like he wants you to know how serious he is.

“I’m okay with you calling me a whore.” Your shoulders loosen up. It’s easy to relax when you’re on familiar territory. Working in this industry requires complete transparency. There’s no shame in discussing your kinks just like there’s no shame in admitting the acts you’re not comfortable performing. “As long as I can call you a slut.”

“That’s fine.” His lips quirk up, but not in a mocking or dismissing way. “I don’t really have any hard limits myself, except for what you’ve already seen on paper. Degradation is fine with me. Call my dick tiny all you want, I won’t take it to heart.”

You laugh, forgetting to keep the volume down. “I’ll keep that in mind…”

“So degradation is fine. Is humiliation okay as well? Situational and verbal?”

“I like that.” You bite your lower lip as you remember your encounter with Min Yoongi a month or so ago, how turned on you’d been from his words alone. “I’ll admit I haven’t dabbled too much in BDSM on the porn scene, but I enjoyed what I’ve done so far.”

“That’s good to know.” He raises his brow. “Ever since we received the pitch for today’s movie I’ve been trying to think of ways to make it, uh, more interesting. So to speak. But I didn’t want to take any initiatives if they made you uncomfortable. Oh, also I meant to ask if there was anything you wanted to include in the scene aside from anal sex.”

Somehow you’re not surprised he’s put thought into this. Last time you’d worked with him, he’d been overflowing with suggestions as well. Maybe because the previous filming formats aren’t as flexible, but it’s not often you meet someone so willing to exchange ideas before filming.

The change is more than welcome. For the first time, it feels like your opinion actually matters. The two of you quietly go back and forth discussing different possibilities while the filming crew finish setting up the set the way Director Ryu wants it.

“Alright,” Ryu calls, settling into the director’s chair. Somewhere in the background, the gaffer wipes off his brow. “Everyone ready to rooooollll?”

Hoseok takes a few steps back and reaches for a nearby clipboard.

Miraculously, you note distantly, the swarming of butterflies in your stomach is now gone. Your palms are no longer clammy and cold with perspiration. When you swallow, there’s no lump of nerves stuck in your throat.

Hoseok sends an encouraging smile your way right before Director Ryu yells “ACTION!” and he schools his features into a more polite, appropriate expression.

He doesn’t speak up right away, just walks over to where you’re sitting on the massage table in a leisurely manner. You open your mouth to fill the silence but he beats you to it.

“Welcome to Happy Ending Clinic, where we ensure every client leaves feeling 100% satisfied. We guarantee high quality services personally adapted to suit the needs of our every client,” Hoseok says in lieu of greeting, the lilt in his voice smooth and practiced, like he’s used to repeating this introduction multiple times throughout the day. “My name is J-Hope and today you will be in my care.”

“Nice to meet you.” You’re careful to keep your back ramrod straight, hoping the stiffness in your body will be picked up by the cameras.

The role you’re playing today is more reserved and awkward than the usual unabashed and bold characters you’re used to acting. And while it’s not your first time pretending to be coy and shy for the cameras, such behavior isn’t second nature.

His smile, whilst professional, radiates warmth. You suppose it’s meant to be reassuring.

“I will do my best to make this session unforgettable.”

His gaze sweeps over the clipboard sitting in his hands.

“Hmmm... ______, is it?” When you nod in affirmation, he continues. “It says here it’s your first time visiting our establishment.”

You’re surprised at how naturally he adapts to the role he’s been assigned to. The words that roll off his tongue sound like his own.

“Yes... Honestly, I - I didn’t think it was necessary, but my friend insisted - I mean, she recommended I visit this place...said it would do me some good.”

You wring your hands in your lap. You’re lucky the character you’re playing today is supposed to be a little shy and rigid. Otherwise, you’re not sure Director Ryu would have let your awkward stuttering slide.

“That’s not a problem.” The lines of Hoseok’s mouth bend into a reassuring smile. “Let’s see... It says you’ve booked an hour-long session?”

“Yep.”

“Then with your permission, I’d like to take fifteen supplementary minutes to find out which massage course is best suited for a novice like you. It’ll be free of charge, of course.”

You nod, eager to get the show on the road. Given your character’s disposition, maybe you should have pretended to mull over the proposal for a few seconds more - if only for appearance’s sake - but you’re tired of all this talking. Impatience gets the best of you.

“Oh! Yes, that sounds fine.”

He pulls out several colorful mock pamphlets and hands them over for you to peruse their contents. You try not to let your astonishment show.

It’s the first time you’ve seen a prop team this devoted to their task. Although the insides of the brochures remain blank, you still can’t believe someone actually took the time to print out fake brochure covers. You appreciate the effort, even if the covers do look like they’ve been made by someone who’s looking to major in ‘graphic design is my passion.’

You hold one up at random and pretend to read through it, hoping that whoever will watch the movie later will ignore the ugly block font that spells out ‘NAUGHTY MASSAGE : FOUR HANDS EDITION.’

“Inside, you’ll find a detailed explanation on the various vegan, cruelty-free products we use. All of our treatments are oil-based and you can choose the scent of your choice. If your skin is particularly sensitive, we have essential oil-infused body butters that work just as effectively and leave the skin silky smooth to the touch. Depending on your skin type, you might be interested in testing—” He takes out several jars all while explaining the different health benefits of ylang ylang essential oil.

Once again, you’re caught off guard by his convincing performance. Even though you’ve been given several pointers by the director before filming, Hoseok is the one who ultimately calls the shots. Inwardly, you wonder how he manages to come up with such original lines on the spot. Despite not being a professional actor, Hoseok’s intuitive choices are beyond your expectations.

The thoroughness of his explanation makes your head spin. Cruelty-free products? Body butter? You have no way of knowing whether his statements are fabricated for the sake of the vague storyline - but you suppose the credibility of his words doesn’t really matter in the end. It’s the small details he sprinkles here and there that help you immerse in the scene.

His proficiency in acting makes all of your worries melt away. It’s hard to believe he’s only a rookie, just starting off his career, and not an acting veteran with dozens of movies under his belt.

Not wanting to be entirely overshadowed by your co-star, you furrow your eyebrows, determination set into your features.

“I’m sorry... I’ve never done this before. They all look the same to me.”

“Ah.” Still, Hoseok’s smile stays amiable and professional. “Well, let’s go about it this way - why do you think your friend insisted you visit our establishment?”

You catch your bottom lip between your teeth, your gaze dropping to the floor in order to avert his probing stare. “I - um. I haven’t had - I mean, I guess I’ve been stressed lately. More pent up than usual. I’ve tried exercising and meditating and mas- uh...well everything, honestly. But nothing seems to work. I’m snappy all the time and...frustrated.”

Today, the character you’re playing is a bit more bashful, too timid to voice her desires into spoken words. “It’s all about the tension! The build-up!” Director’s Ryu’s voice echoes in your mind as a reminder.

“I see,” Hoseok nods, taking your comments into consideration. “On a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate the quality of your sleep?”

“A five...” you say after a moment’s hesitation. “I don’t wake up during the night, but it takes me a long time to fall asleep.”

“Do you feel any pain anywhere?”

“Pain? No, not really.” You roll your shoulders back, conscious of the way your perky chest juts out, nipples prominent through the cheap fabric. “My neck does feel sore from time to time but I think it’s because I work an office job. They say staying hunched over in front of a computer all day is bad for your health.”

His gaze roams your figure, quietly assessing. “It is.”

“May I?” he asks, taking a tentative step closer. “I think I’ll need to gauge your level of sensitivity for myself. We’ll adjust the intensity of the massage depending on how much pressure you can withstand and how your body reacts to different types of stimuli.”

Your brows lift. “Oh. Sure, why not.”

“Move back a little. A bit more.” You obey his instructions without second thoughts. “That’s perfect, thank you.”

Your legs dangle awkwardly over the edge of the massage table. You can probably close them if you wanted to, but you don’t miss an opportunity to expose yourself in front of the cameras. The shorts you’re wearing are more like tiny scraps of denim put together with the help of a few stitches. You’re certain that if someone were to really look, they’d see the outline of your pussy lips.

Hoseok walks around the table to stand behind you. The sensation is somewhat familiar—right away, you’re reminded of the first encounter with Hoseok, the one where he’d wrapped his arms around you and whispered words of love into your ear. You close your eyes and let the images flash by in quick succession. The memories all come rushing in at once—an artist’s lips painting your skin like a brush would canvas, a potter’s agile fingers molding your body from clay, a lyricist’s tongue composing sonnets into your weeping, open cunt. Your body remembers it all.

When he finally touches you, his hands radiate warmth the shadow of his memory does not.

A shudder runs down your spine.

Oblivious to your inner thoughts, Hoseok carefully gathers your hair into a ponytail and moves it out of the way. His mobility no longer restricted, he lets his slender digits travel down the slope of your neck, the pads of his fingers digging into the meat of your shoulders.

“You’re unusually tense here.” Concern colors his voice as he increases the pressure.

Suddenly the discomfort you’re to convey to the audience is no longer feigned. “Ow!”

The wince that mars your face is authentic. You try to wiggle out of his grasp to relieve the sharp ache in your shoulders. Hoseok’s grip is strong, however, and he keeps you exactly where he thinks you ought to be.

“Hmm...”

He massages your arms one by one. The circular movements he traces across your skin are a lot more gentle this time around, and you allow yourself to slowly relax under his touch. He manipulates your body like one would a rag doll, pulling your arm over your head.

“Can you reach behind, towards your neck? How about a little lower? You should feel a stretch here.” He taps at an arm muscle.

“Yeah… I can definitely feel it.”

You suspect that Hoseok’s stunt as a Pilates instructor is what’s helping him sound so experienced and natural.

“Good.” He lets out a pleased hum. “Hold the position for as long as you can.”

His hands reach around your body to squeeze your perky breasts. You gasp at the rather rough way he handles your tits. Perhaps it’s because you’ve been told to forgo a bra, but you’re much more conscious of his every action - from the way his fingers splay out, cupping the fullness of your breasts between them, to the way he kneads your mounds with his entire palm as he gropes you from behind.

“How often do you masturbate?” he asks in an almost offhand manner, his tone is more clinical than casual. The question is crude and direct enough to distract you from the way his fingers encircle your nipples through the cotton fabric of your shirt.

You recall Ryu’s earlier directions: unlike your first movie together, this tryst is not romantic in nature. The scenario that you’re acting out this time doesn’t involve sweet kisses and whispered declarations of love. Feelings aren’t on the table.

You pretend like the bitter taste you swallow down isn’t disappointment.

“Um.” You struggle to remember the initial question. Luckily, your mental buffering comes off as bashful and true to the character you’re playing. “I, uh, I guess masturbate often?”

“But it isn’t enough, is it?”

His question comes off as slightly patronizing. Before you can formulate a suitable answer, Hoseok’s fingers tweak your hardened nipples and your back bows under the pressure. You oscillate between the desire to thrust your chest out in offering, and the pressing need to flee the sharp sensations his skilled hands provoke.

“I - um!” You squirm helplessly as he continues playing with your breasts. “It isn’t!”

“Just as I thought.” He pinches both of your nipples and pulls at them until you cry out in half-pain, half-pleasure. The thin material of your shirt doesn’t dull the ache; if anything, the cotton scratches your skin, rubbing the nubs raw.

Despite your very visible discomfort, Hoseok doesn’t let go. You can only sit there obediently while he has his fun, knowing that if you wiggle too much it’ll only worsen the pain.

“Ah!”

Only then does he release them. You fight against the urge to cover your sore nipples. Your flimsy shirt hadn’t provided any protection against his rough onslaught, none at all.

“You’re quite sensitive,” he observes, giving your breasts one last squeeze.

Finished with his appraisal, he steps away and picks his clipboard up. He makes his way around the massage table, coming back into view, and scribbles something onto the paper with a ballpoint pen. He looks so absorbed in his work that you almost fall for the act.

You worry your bottom lip, crossing your arms over your chest self-consciously. Without a bra, your hardened nipples are clearly visible through the thin shirt. They jut out in a distracting way; Hoseok’s eyes drop down for a split-second in appreciation before flickering back to the clipboard in his hands.

“Your body is wound up. It’s tense in places it shouldn’t be.”

“Is that...a bad thing?”

“No. Your case is not abnormal.” He shakes his head and offers you a reassuring smile. “Although... Hm. When was the last time you achieved an an orgasm?”

You look away, mumbling your answer in an embarrassed voice. “Last night.”

More scribbling. He taps the end of the pen against his chin, pretending to be lost in thought.

His eyes glint when he asks, “How many times did you cum?”

It’s not real - none of this is - and yet you can feel warmth spreading from your cheeks down to your chest. It’s a strange sensation, stuck somewhere between humiliation and arousal, and it makes your entire body heat up from the inside out.

“Just - Just once…”

“Look at me.”

Your eyes snap towards his on command. He looks relaxed, unbothered, like he’s discussing the weather forecast and not your masturbation habits. You want to look away but something in his stare pins you in place.

“You’re telling me the truth, right?”

“Yes! I’m not - I wouldn’t lie.”

“Good.” He smiles pleasantly, nodding to himself. “So. You came once. Did you use your fingers? Or, perhaps, a toy?”

He’s still staring at you, forcing you to look him straight in the eyes while you confess your sins. Your thighs clench together and you struggle to focus on the conversation at hand.

“F-fingers.” Your breathing becomes ragged as you imagine Hoseok’s fingers replacing your imaginary ones. They’d fill you up nicely, too. Compared to your own, they’re longer, capable of reaching places yours can’t. All you’d have to do is hook your arms under your knees and keep your legs spread wide open. He doesn’t even need to take your clothes off; he could pull the seam of your shorts and underwear to the side and fuck you just like that. “I only used my fingers.”

He raises an eyebrow like he doesn’t quite believe you. Somehow, that makes the fire between your legs burn hotter. It’s like - he knows you’re too cockhungry to settle for just fingers. And if a mere stranger can tell how desperate you are to get fucked, what about the rest?

“Interesting.” Hoseok’s eyes darken by the minute. “And do you prefer clitoral stimulation to penetration?”

“I-” You pause and struggle to formulate your response. Your ears feel hot. In fact - your entire face feels like it’s on fire.

The embarrassment you feel doesn’t make sense - you’ve never had any qualms discussing sex. You can talk candidly about any topic for hours on end, from the condom brands you prefer to advice on how to maintain a rash-free pussy, to the point where some people might think you’re over-sharing or being too crass. Discussing intimate topics shouldn’t be a problem.

It’s not even a real dialogue anyway, so why do you -

“Yes?” Hoseok leans forward, interrupting your train of thought. The corner of his mouth is upturned, like he can’t help but be amused by your discomfiture.

“I like, um.” You close your eyes, hoping that it’ll somehow make the admission easier. It doesn’t. The darkness makes you feel even more exposed, like all your secrets are laid bare for him to see. Your voice quivers when you answer. “I - I touch - I mean, sometimes I’ll - my fingers aren’t long enough. So just rubbing the outside is - fine.”

“Ah. You like being stuffed full, I take it?” Hoseok’s vulgar vocabulary makes your eyes snap open in shock. He smirks, not expecting you to answer. “Poor girl.”

You shake your head, your reply dying in your throat. With every word he utters, your thoughts become fuzzy, muddled.

“What did you imagine last night while you were getting off? A stranger fucking your face? Big men taking turns using your cunt? Tell me. In detail, preferably.”

“I don’t see how-” The sharp look in his eyes makes you swallow down any protest. Still. You can’t get your mouth to work correctly and you look back at him helplessly.

“Is there a reason why you can’t tell me?” He tilts his head to the side, the smirk on his face growing, canines flashing. “Oh. I see.”

You flinch, your face impossibly hot.

“Were you thinking of today’s session?” He chuckles, delighted. “That’s quite naughty of you. Although, I can’t blame you, can I? We are known to deliver the best orgasma. It’s only natural to imagine what would happen.”

That’s right, you think. You’d spent all night fantasizing about a faceless, nameless stranger’s hands all over your naked body. How long had it been since you’d felt someone’s touch? Their tongue buried deep in your cunt, fucking you until your thighs trembled? Even your best dildo couldn’t hold a candle to a hot-blooded, throbbing cock.

Hoseok taps the pen against the clipboard, the staccato sound filling the silence.

“One last question.” He makes sure he has your undivided attention before continuing. “No need to look so worried. I won’t ask you what lewd thoughts you get off to, although maybe in future sessions I’ll expect that of you.”

You don’t linger on the implication there - that you’ll undoubtedly come back for seconds - and nod your assent for him to go on.

“Did you cum hard while thinking of getting fucked by me today?”

You inhale sharply, struggling to hold his stare. “I… The sheets were so wet afterwards, I had to change them.”

“I see.” He jots something down on his clipboard but his reaction doesn’t give anything away. Nervously, you pull on a loose string hanging from the hem of your short. “Hm…”

After a few seconds of silence he speaks up again, done with his assessment.

“Well, normally for first timers such as yourself we’d recommend starting with a more soothing body massage. But I think in your case a more thorough massage is needed. It’s not a cause for concern!” He adds quickly, as if to assuage any growing fears. “But in my professional opinion, I think the massage I have in mind for you might be more beneficial than the beginner level massage.”

“Um, what does this massage entail exactly?”

“We call it the full treatment. In other words - it’s a deep tissue penetration massage,” Hoseok explains calmly. “It includes an internal massage. We’ll use a variety of methods but rest assured - all techniques are tried and tested! You’ll be in safe hands.”

You pretend to mull it over.

Hoseok waits for your nod of confirmation before instructing, “There are towels at your disposal.” He motions to the pile of fluffy white towels folded neatly on the bench. “Feel free to use them. While you change into a...less restricting outfit, I’ll go retrieve the rest of the massage equipment. See you in a bit!”

And with that he’s gone. The privacy he grants you is, of course, just an illusion. Even without looking in their direction, you know that the cameras’ lenses are all focused on you, waiting to capture the impending striptease. You’d forgotten about them but Hoseok’s absence reminds you of their presence.

Per Director Ryu’s earlier instructions, you make a show of taking off your clothes. Teasing the camera comes naturally to you thanks to your prior experience as a cam girl; you know exactly which angles are the most flattering and which ones, on the other hand, emphasize your flaws.

Your back arches as you peel off your shirt, drawing attention to the swell of your breasts and the curve of your waist. Not long after do you shimmy out of your shorts, exaggerating the swing of your hips for the audience’s viewing pleasure. You try not to show your surprise when the dampness of your crotch sticks to your folds as you pull them down your legs - you hadn’t expected how much a simple tit massage and few exchanged words would rile you up.

The denim pools around your ankles and when you bend over to retrieve the useless item of clothing, you’re acutely aware of how your wet, waxed pussy peeks out from between your thighs. You stay in position, giving the camera ample time to zoom in, and while the stretch isn’t painful (thanks to your yoga lessons!), it is a rather awkward position to maintain.

Once you straighten up, you take a few seconds to fold up the shirt and itty bitty shorts before setting them aside. Normally, you’d leave your discarded clothing strewn about but you can’t imagine your character behaving in such an uncouth way.

With that thought in mind, you wrap yourself with a short towel. Rather than covering your intimate bits, it’s so short that it emphasizes your nakedness. When you go to sit on the massage table, the towel rides up, leaving you exposed and you have to fold your hands in your lap to preserve a semblance of modesty.

It’s easy to convey nervousness while you wait for Hoseok’s return. While you’ve never attended any drama school, you have watched plenty enough Netflix dramas to know which physical cues are more or less effective - constant fidgeting, shifty eyes, audible gulping. Since it’s your first time putting your knowledge into practice, you’re not certain how convincing your acting is, but hey, isn’t it the effort that counts? You’re not here to audition for the starring role in Hollywood’s next summer blockbuster, after all.

Hoseok knocks twice before entering, stopping your self-depreciation in its tracks. He’s abandoned the earlier clipboard for a large, nondescript, white cardboard box that rattles with every step he takes. It sounds more ominous than it actually is.

If Director Ryu is truly aiming for realism, he wouldn’t make Hoseok carry back the items in a fucking box, you think privately. Who even does that? Although you suppose realism isn’t the be-all end-all, no matter how much the director insists. Sometimes viewers like to be metaphorically edged and endlessly teased, and all this guessing only adds to the build-up, making the climax more than worth it. They could, of course, fast-forward to get to the juicy sex scenes, the crux of the matter, but you’d like to believe all this extra effort is worth it.

You blink curiously back at Hoseok, feigning ignorance.

“Oh good.” He beams in your direction, his eyes drinking in your scantily-clad figure. “Now that you’re more comfortable, please lie down for me.”

He sets the box to the side, opens the lid, and takes out a bottle of oil while you settle down on your stomach and carefully rearrange your towel so that it covers your bum.

“I’ve chosen bergamot essential oil for today’s massage. It’s a nice, citrus-like scent that’s not too overwhelming because it’s been mixed in with sweet almond oil. Its many virtues include, but are not limited to, increasing the body’s energy flow and enhancing feelings of joy and freshness.”

“That sounds lovely.” You sigh dreamily. Getting massaged and getting dicked down in one go? Hell yeah. That one is a no-brainer for sure.

There’s a shadow of a smirk on Hoseok’s face when he rounds on you, like he’s somehow privy to your thoughts. That, or your eagerness is too transparent. You’re betting on the latter.

His voice lowers an octave, the low timber making shivers run down your back.

“Shall we begin?”

He moves your hair to the side, leaving your neck and back exposed. He then pulls down your towel so that it uncovers the expanse of your back and covers more of your bottom half instead.

“Is this alright?” he inquires. As if testing the waters, his fingers trace down the line of your spine, stopping right before your lower back dips into a curve.

You moan your assent. “More than.”

Hoseok takes the bottle of oil and drizzles its contents over your skin like a painter splattering ink onto a blank canvas. He spreads the lubricant all over your back, rubbing your skin in circular motions until you’re coated with it. You let out a few pleased sounds here and there that are not entirely faked or exaggerated. He definitely knows what he’s doing with his hands.

Honestly, you feel sorry towards your co-star who’s stuck doing most of the work while you’re splayed out like a starfish. It feels a bit unfair that you’re getting paid more than him when he’s the one putting in most of the effort. Had you any shame, you’d give him half of your pay for his services. Alas.

“Tell me if it hurts anywhere,” he warns, not unkindly.

Your back stiffens. You expect Hoseok to replicate the rough treatment he’d inflicted to your breasts, but contrary to your expectations, he kneads your body gently, almost tenderly. The contrast between this touch and his earlier ministrations messes with your head. When his hands outline your flank, his fingers prodding the sides of your breasts, you swallow a hopeful sigh as you wait for him to envelop your soft mounds and roll your sensitive nipples between his skilled fingers.

Betrayal brews in your gut when he fails to indulge your fantasies. You’re tempted to grab his wrist and guide his hand to where you need it the most but you miraculously hold yourself back. Since the scene doesn’t call for that much impatience and desperation on your part, you’d hate to be the reason why Director Ryu asks for a re-take.

Thankfully, he soon puts you out of your misery. Hoseok retreats, done teasing the sides of your breasts for the time being. You’re not sure it’s relief or disappointment that swims in your lower belly, but Hoseok doesn’t give you time to dwell on the question. Almost as soon as he retracts his hands from your back, he redirects his attention to your legs. His hands, warm and slick from the oil, glide over the back of your calves and thighs with ease. His thumbs rub circular shapes into your flesh as he slowly works his way up, the pleasant sensations leaving your whole body boneless.

“You loosen up well.”

Hoseok’s fingers skirt the hem of the towel. Your breath gets caught in your throat as he toys with the fabric.

“Will you open up for me, pretty? You look tense right here.” He flips the towel up, revealing your bare lower half. He wastes no time before gripping the meat of your ass cheeks, fingers digging into the supple flesh. He spreads your cheeks apart, cool air blowing against your exposed holes, and lets them jiggle back into place after giving the camera ample time to capture the view. “Hm. Looks like you haven’t been properly stretched out in a long time... We’ll fix that today.”

Bolts of pleasure run through your body. The whole situation is ludicrous and yet, for whatever reason you cannot pinpoint, moisture gathers between your thighs with every passing second, adding to the mess dripping from your folds.

“Um, like this?” You part your legs open slightly, as if unsure. In situations like these, the biggest challenge is to act diffident and coy when all you want is for your co-star to blow your back out.

He tsks, the sound sharp and reproving. It goes straight to your core and makes your belly clench with unspeakable need.

“How am I supposed to fuck your holes open in that position?” He has the audacity to sound impatient. “Work with me here.”

He grabs your ankles and separates them himself, ignoring your yelp of surprise. Unaccustomed to the stretch, the muscles in your thighs strain with the effort to hold the position.

A whine slips out your mouth. He’s so mean.

While you expect Hoseok to act somewhat distant and objective because of the role he’s playing, his fluctuating behavior gives you nothing but whiplash. One moment he’s cordial and friendly, the epitome of what a professional should be, the next he’s treating you like you’re his plaything, not his client.

His grip around your ankles is firm and unyielding. He’s got you spread impossibly wide, your legs dangling dangerously off the edge of the table with your waxed holes exposed for inspection.

“That’s good, just like that.” His hands let go of your ankles when he’s sure you won’t move from the position he’s steered you into. He strokes up your legs, the touch feather-light and fleeting. “Keep your legs spread wide. I want to see your cute little holes on display.”

His crude remarks make your body flush with heat.

Even if this is the sort of place that offers sexual gratification, Hoseok’s wording toes several lines. As his client, he should be focused on giving you pleasure, so why do his comments make it sound like you’re here for his entertainment instead?

Despite your character being fully aware of what type of establishment she’s visiting, you reckon Hoseok’s words are enough to make her squirm in embarrassment. There’s something filthy about the way he orders you around and bends you to his will. Even you’re not indifferent to the impersonal way he handles your body like a doll. Flickers of arousal lick up your spine, and with your legs extended so far apart, it’s not difficult for Hoseok to notice how much you’re wound up.

The position is far from proper. Hot streaks of humiliation burn through you when you imagine how easy and slutty you must seem to whoever is watching. You don’t dare move from the pose he’s maneuvered you into, not because you’re scared of the consequences, but because his presence demands obedience. Even without explicitly saying so, he’s made it clear that for the next hour or so, you’re his to toy with.

“Good girl. You open up so nicely.” Hoseok purrs, satisfied with your compliance. “Now let me see what I’m working with here.”

He swipes his index finger through your glossy folds, the action forcing you to stifle a startled gasp. It’s nothing like the erotic oil massage you’d experienced minutes prior. The touch is inquisitive, clinical, assessing. Like he’s testing out a new product before purchase.

You want to stay still but you’re so wound up from his incessant teasing. The slightest caress makes the hairs on the back of your nape stand straight. Hoseok is all too aware of this fact. The tip of his pointer finger comes in contact with your clit, the touch more delicate than a feather's caress. Hoseok watches with thinly veiled amusement as you jerk against the table.

“You really are sensitive,” he all but coos. “What a treat. Don’t need any oil when you’re leaking all over the table like a faucet. How long has it been since someone touched you here, hm?”

The teasing lilt in his voice borders on condescending. Heat simmers under the surface of your skin as you struggle to collect your thoughts.

“Eight months,” you squeak just as two of his fingers dip into your slicked up entrance.

“No wonder you’re all worked up.” He slides his digits right up to the knuckle, the glide so easy it’s embarrassing. “Needy holes like yours should be used more often.”

He fucks his fingers into your pussy one, two, three times, before pulling away, chuckling under his breath when your hips push back, greedy and desperate for more. Using the same hand he’d used to test out your cunt Hoseok slaps your ass once, the sharp sting making you still at once.

The damp mark on your ass is a testament to how fucking soaked you are. You can’t imagine what kind of mess the cameras are picking up on - but maybe you don’t have to.

Hoseok wipes his fingers off on you, using you to clean himself off. Although you can’t see anything because of the way you’re laying down, everything feels wet and filthy. He rubs your own juices onto your skin, reminding you of the intensity of your need.

And just when you don’t think his mouth can get any filthier, he proves you wrong.

“I can tell you haven’t been stretched recently,” he sighs, almost disappointed. “You’re just gagging for a pounding, aren’t you? It’s a shame your fuck-hole is too tight to take a big cock or I would have given it to you right away.”

Your lower body clenches as his words wash over you.

The idea sounds downright delicious. Hoseok is right. Even if it’s just for the sake of the storyline, there’s nothing more you want right now than a good, hard fucking. It would take him less than ten seconds for him to pull his hard cock out from his scrubs and make a home for himself between your thighs. Images flash through your mind of Hoseok’s hands on your breasts, in your hair, around your throat. You want him to cover you, smother you, as he forces you down against the table and takes his fill. You want his lips on your skin, hot and possessive, as he uses you like the cocksleeve he needs you to be.

God, you want that. You want to be used hard, to be fucked full until you break. You need this - your character needs this.

You whimper, high-pitched and needy. “Please. Please, I want it. I want - I want your cock.”

“I’m sure you do.” Hoseok all but scoffs. “Why don’t you just sit still and relax for me? I’m going to massage you until you’re nice and loose, alright? First-timers like you could get hurt if they’re not prepped properly but I’ll get you ready, don’t worry. By the end of this, you’ll be able to take big cocks in all your holes like a pro.”

“Shit.”

You bite back a moan, startled at how much you’re turned on.

Porn dialogue is rarely arousing. You’re the first to tune out your partner whenever they talk for longer than a minute. It’s because you hear the same exact shitty lines repeated so often that you’re half-convinced there’s a porn acting for dummies handbook being circulated around.

Although… Maybe if Hoseok’s lines had been delivered by someone else, they wouldn’t have the same effect on you. That’s the difference, you think to yourself. Hoseok’s delivery. The cockiness that infuses his every word, the way he confidently carries himself… He does it all so convincingly - nothing like the wooden and awkward memorized performances you’ve witnessed from fellow actors.

While you’re lost in thought, Hoseok rummages inside the cardboard box. Without his touch or words to distract you, it’s harder to ignore the building arousal between your legs. As the seconds tick by, your shameful desire only worsens.

Before you can crane your neck or voice your confusion, Hoseok returns, humming under his breath.

“We’re gonna try a different massage technique now. This method will help with lubrication,” he explains evenly. “I’ll use a special vibrating tool that will massage hard to reach areas.”

“Um…” You swallow, blinking rapidly. “Okay.”

“It’s not as scary as it sounds. We’ll start off slow and I’ll gradually up the intensity once I deem you ready for the next stage. How does that sound?”

A click, followed by a low buzzing, fills the room.

You gasp when the vibrating object comes in contact with the back of your knee. Hoseok’s free hand settles on your leg - a nonverbal reminder to keep your legs wide open for him as well as the cameras.

“See? Nice and easy. Nothing to be scared of.”

He rotates the tool in slow, even circles. You force yourself to relax and accept the foreign massage, disregarding how strange it feels to have small vibrations travel up and down your leg. After a few minutes of him repeating the same motions on your other leg, he slowly makes his way up your thighs, the rounded tip of the tool dangerously close to your drenched pussy.

A pleading whine reverberates in your chest. The electric whirring of the vibrator is not enough to soothe the burning between your thighs. If anything, it makes it worse. You need more, you think urgently.

Hoseok moves to the side of the table so that the cameras can get an unobstructed view of your clenching hole. It’s the first time you’ve seen his face since he made you lie down. From his voice alone, it’s impossible to tell how affected he is. More than once you’d caught yourself wondering… Does he like what he sees? Is he enjoying himself?

A dark streak of satisfaction crosses over you when you notice the hunger in his gaze, his pupils blown so wide his brown eyes look black. Drool pools in your mouth when you spot the sizable tent in his scrubs.

The fact that you’re at the perfect height to suck his dick doesn’t slip by you. He could flip you over onto your back, your head hanging off the table, and use your mouth to his heart’s content. You whimper at the thought of him fucking your face, your mouth reduced to a fleshlight for him to get off. You could probably cum like that - his cock buried deep in your throat, his fingers pressed against the side of your neck to you struggle around his length, while his other hand reaches down to grab at your breast, using it as an anchor to fuck into you harder.

“Shit, you’re really making a mess of my work table.”

Hoseok’s gaze is trained between your legs. He wets his lips and adjusts his hold on the vibrator. The sudden movement changes the angle, positioning the tool right over your dripping entrance, closer than ever to your swollen clit. The vibrations suddenly feel louder and stronger than before. If this keeps up, you reckon that it won’t be long before you’re hurtling towards the edge of a precipice.

A moan slips past your parted lips, loud and wanton. Embarrassed by the sheer need that colors your voice, you quickly shut your mouth closed, hoping that your desperation goes by unnoticed.

Hoseok chuckles, the sound sharp and mean. He comments on your obscene behavior, how you’re acting so slutty it’s a wonder you’d kept this side of you locked away for this long without people suspecting your love for cock. Every word infiltrates your mind, leaves no corners untainted, until all you can think and breathe and smell is him.

“Over the years, I’ve seen a lot of sluts parade in here and pay for my time,” he says, his dulcet tone making the degradation sweeter. You hang onto each and every word, letting yourself fall deeper into a haze of arousal and submission. “But it’s been a while since someone like you showed up. Just look at this… Your little fuck-hole can’t even take a bit of teasing without getting me dirty.”

The buzzing between your thighs switches back and forth between strong pulses and rapid, little vibrations. You keen, shaking from head to toe in pleasure. Your thighs are wet, sticky with your juices, and your clit is hard and aching for attention.

You don’t even want to know what state your sopping pussy is in. Every time your body jerks and trembles, you feel the pool of arousal that’s gathered underneath you. It’s - embarrassing. That you’re this soaked and close to cumming when he hasn’t even touched your clit or fucked you with his cock.

In the midst of your pleasure-induced haze, your eyes meet his. The lines of his face are drawn into a smug expression, his gaze smoldering. Embers of arousal light up his dark eyes, and you can only stare back at him, clit throbbing, as he ups the intensity of the vibrations.

“Fuck! Oh God, oh I’m-” Your legs thrash, hips lifting off the table in an effort to escape the shocks of pleasure zapping throughout your body. Mercifully - or not, depending on how you looked at it - Hoseok brought the vibrations down a few settings, until the whirring had quieted down to a low thrum.

“Feeling good, huh?” The grin he sends your way is positively wicked. “I think you’re ready to take more.”

More? you think weakly. Any more and you’ll explode, like popcorn kernels in a microwave.

For a second you think he’ll bring the vibrator up to your clit. Maybe even slide the long, phallic-shaped vibrator inside your pussy so that it’ll stretch you out like he’d promised. What you don’t expect is for him to bring it down to your other hole, the powerful vibrations rattling you to the core.

Your surprised gasp is so loud, not even the buzzing of the toy drowns it out. Hoseok places his available hand on your left hip and pins you to the table, the gentle weight keeping you steady.

“That’s right,” he soothes, voice smooth like silk. It sounds patronizing, almost like he’s calming down a dog startled by thunder or explaining right from wrong to a small child.

“Um.” You let trepidation inch its way into your voice. “You - what are you doing? That’s not - that’s dirty.”

“What is?”

“My,” you pause, humiliation coiling tightly around your spine. Hoseok presses the toy harder around your rim, its coat of arousal making the tip slide over your sensitive skin. You’re tempted not to answer but you know Hoseok wants you to voice the dirty words. “My asshole. It’s - dirty. Please - I… I don’t think you should touch it. It’s not right.”

You mumble the end of your sentence like you’re embarrassed to say such a scandalous thing out loud.

Hoseok laughs, sounding both mocking and endeared. “Oh, sweetheart. Didn’t you hear what I said earlier? I’m going to loosen up all your holes. Because that’s what you’ve always wanted deep down, isn’t it? To service cock. Even if it means letting me play with this dirty hole of yours.”

The vibrations intensify with the click of a button. Your whole body spasms, limbs flailing pathetically as the sensations run down your back all the way to the tip of your toes.

You bite down a whimper. How does he know? How can he tell? All you want right now is a nice, hard cock buried inside of you - and at this point you don’t care which orifice he sticks in it. You’re just so - empty. So empty it physically aches.

Hoseok dials down the intensity of the vibrator and with his free hand, squeezes a copious amount of oil onto the toy, slicking it up.

Surprisingly he doesn’t bother prepping you with his fingers before easing the toy into your back entrance. From your position, you can’t tell if Director Ryu signaled to hurry things along or if his own impatience played a part. Either way, your sharp intake of breath is genuine.

You try your best to relax your muscles but the toy is thicker than expected, its sides bumpy and ribbed. Even though you’d stretched yourself out beforehand with a sizable dildo, the girth of the toy still makes your breath hitch. Your bottom lip hurts as you scrape your teeth over it.

“Relax for me. That’s it.” Hoseok whispers soft words of encouragement. “You’re doing such a good job.”

Finally, after what seems like light years, the toy is fully inserted, only the base of it peeking out from between your parted cheeks. You feel full, deliciously so. It’s only now with the weight of the toy inside of you that you realize how much you’d missed being stuffed to the brim.

“There you go.” Hoseok smacks your right ass cheek hard enough for the sting to go straight to your clit. “How does that feel?”

“Full.” You smack your lips together. Eloquence is not your strongest suit in the present moment and your lack of coherency only humiliates you further. It’s like he’s rendered you cock-dumb. Reduced you to a lust-driven creature that only has dick on the brain. “I feel good.”

“Of course you’d enjoy that.” The cockiness in his voice is undeniable, like he’s drunk off the power he has over you. “Needy sluts like you only care about getting filled up, huh?”

It sounds like a rhetorical question but you answer it anyway, just in case he wanted an answer.

“Yes! I’m a needy slut. Please - could you…?” You wriggle your hips, trying to entice him into action. The rocking motion jostles the toy nestled inside of you, causing you to choke out a moan. “Hng! Use my pussy this time, please?”

Hoseok clucks his tongue and slaps your ass again to keep you still. It moves the lodged vibrator, knocking it against a spot inside of you that makes you gush. Your pussy clenches up in an imitation of an orgasm - but you know from experience that you haven’t cum just yet.

Fuck. You’re so fucked and he hasn’t even given you his cock.

Your head thumps down against the table as you take in deep, steadying breaths. You can’t think straight; every thought seems clouded by a dense smog of lust. Your body feels like a live wire, all your nerve endings crackling with electricity. How much more can you endure before you shatter beyond repair?

Hoseok takes pity on you. “The vibrating massage should have helped your muscles relax. Your tight cunt should be able to fit this in by now.”

He slides another silicone toy into your pussy, this one wider and longer than the first. Your hands grapple for purchase as your body accommodates both toys, one in each hole. You’re so wet that there’s no resistance despite its impressive size and you suck in a breath as Hoseok keeps pushing it in, inch by interminable inch.

If you thought you felt full before, it’s nothing compared to how stretched you feel now. The wall separating the two toys is stretched thin and when you tense your abdomen, you can feel both of them nudge against one another. Your stomach feels - bloated. As if there’s a bulge where the toys are nestled deep inside of you.

It’s quite frankly obscene.

You’ve never felt more turned on.

“Whoa.” He grips both of your legs and widens them even further, displaying your stuffed holes for the cameras. “Your hungry cunt ate up my biggest dildo like it was nothing.”

The fact that he admitted it was a dildo - and not some vibrating tool - just adds to your mortification.

“Okay. Two holes down, one to go.”

He releases his hold on your legs and raises a brow at you. The smirk is back on his face and that, paired with the ravenous look in his eyes, makes you want to run and hide. He looks like he’s two seconds away from devouring you whole for dinner. “Why don’t you turn around for me? It wouldn’t be a full body massage if I didn’t rub down the other side, right?”

His chuckle spurs you into action. It’s not that you’re not embarrassed by the idea of baring yourself completely for him like some sort of cult offering, but the need to get dicked down trumps all.

Your mind feels fuzzy and your body sluggish. There’s a fire inside of you that not even double penetration has managed to extinguish and it roars to life as you manœuvre into the position he’s ordered you to get into. The toys jostle inside of you, reminding you of the depraved lengths you’d go to because you’re starving for cock.

He’s right about you, you think as you settle onto your back. You’re a needy slut. All you want is for your holes to be filled. And when they’re empty, your body aches with the need to fill them back up again. Toys will do but they’re a poor substitute for what you really want.

Thankfully, Hoseok’s own patience is running out. You’ve barely gotten into a comfortable position when he’s fishing out his cock from his scrubs, not even bothering to remove his clothes.

Drool pools into your mouth at the sight. He’s just as long as you remembered him to be. Not too thick or veiny, but prettily flushed and glistening with translucent precum. How long has he been hard? The erection looks painful. Distantly, you’re comforted by the knowledge that you haven’t been the only one suffering from this prolonged foreplay. God is fair, you rejoice internally.

Your mouth opens of its own accord and your tongue lolls out, hungry.

Hoseok doesn’t comment on your pathetic state - a testament to how worked up he probably is. He guides his cock into your waiting mouth with barely repressed urgency.

His cock is heavy on your tongue, the perfect weight. He pushes in until he can’t go any further, the position you’re in giving him better access to your throat. You fucking love it.

When you swallow around his length, he hisses between his teeth. “Shit.”

He gives you little time to adjust. As soon as he’s certain you can take it, he starts to thrust his hips. His cock drags across the rough surface of your tongue as it’s pushed and pulled out of your mouth at a rapid pace. Each thrust of his hips makes you gag, drool running down the sides of your face, and the obscene sounds of your choking echo in your ears.

The rough treatment should revolt you, make you squirm or shy away, but you’ve never felt more alive. Your mind feels pleasantly blank - like your sole purpose in life is to be a glorified cum bucket, a receptacle for his cock and cum. Even when he buries himself all the way to the hilt, so far down your throat it feels like he’s reached your stomach, you’re eager for more. Logically speaking you don’t even know if you can handle more, don’t have the mental faculty to figure out if more is physically possible, but your body knows that it’ll never be sated, not fully, not until he cums inside you.

“Greedy girl,” he rasps between heavy breaths. “Look at you… I’ve plugged up three of your holes but you’re still gagging for it, aren’t you? Filthy slut.”

His words are meant to degrade and humiliate you. Instead of disgust, you can hear the admiration ring in his voice. His awe satisfies you and you hollow your cheeks, suctioning around his girth just to hear him curse under his breath. You live for the way his hips stutter and how his deep breathing is interspersed by the occasional grunt or moan. It feels good to know that you’re bringing him pleasure, that your hole is satisfactory.

Hoseok reaches over your body and grabs something from the discarded cardboard box you can’t see. You soon find out what it is though - the oil is drizzled over your torso and chest, liquid spilling down the sides of your body. He throws the bottle to the side, more interested in spreading the lubricant over your tits until they’re slick and shiny.

It soon becomes clear that he’s abandoned his earlier massage techniques in favor of a more rushed treatment. Gone is the slow build-up. He rubs your breasts, grabbing and squeezing them like stress balls, and pinches your hard nipples tightly between his fingers, pulling them out until your back arches.

The next time he slams his erect length into your mouth, your breasts bounce from the force of the thrust. Hoseok’s eyes remain transfixed on the lewd way your breasts jiggle; because he keeps your nipples clamped tightly between his fingers, your tits have no other choice but to swing around every time he rocks his hips back and forth.

Every time you gag and choke on his cock, tears prickling your eyes, you feel the fire between your legs grow stronger. Shame and arousal course through you, your head dizzy with lust. You can’t move, can’t scream, all of your moans of pleasure muffled by the cock buried in your throat.

He laughs derisively, pulling out after a particularly hard thrust. A string of saliva connects your mouth to his cock and your eyes zero in on it, finding it impossible to look away.

“You slut.”

He makes a disapproving noise low in his throat before slapping you across the face with his cock.

It doesn’t hurt anywhere as much as a real slap but it’s so unexpected you gasp, your jaw throbbing in pain. The imprint of his cock is wet and dirty against your cheek. He keeps his cock hanging a few centimeters above your face. It taunts you, beckons you closer. The seam of your mouth stays wide open, your appetite evidently knowing no limits.

“Heh. You’re really something… Never seen a whore so cock-hungry in my life. And trust me when I say I’ve seen plenty.” He sneers, walking away.

For a long second, you fear he’s gone and left you high and dry and that the scene will end like that. Except - no. He’s positioned himself at the other side of the massage table. You shudder as you realize that can only mean one thing : he’s going to grant you the fucking your body craves.

Hoseok’s lips twitch into a knowing half-smile. He grips his stiff cock in one hand, the length of it soaked with your spit and precum.

You gulp, suddenly intimidated. Perhaps it’s the angle, but he looks taller than you remember him to be, bigger, his shoulders slightly broader. His cock looks more imposing, too. Despite just having choked on it, it’s long; his hand sits loosely at the base of his cock, leaving a few good inches poking out of his fist. Your mouth goes dry, your insatiable hunger reawakened.

The impatience marring your features is probably disgustingly obvious because Hoseok makes another comment about how desperate and pathetic you look once you’re deprived of cock.

Using his left hand, he slowly removes the toy from your ass. The slide is painful because you’re clenching so hard down on it, unwilling for your hole to become empty once again.

A whimper escapes your parted lips. Hoseok laughs at the betrayed look that crosses your face at the loss of the thick dildo.

“So fuckin’ greedy.” He slaps your entrance with his cock, his grin wolfish as you wail in reply. “Stay still if you want my cock.”

Immediately you freeze, taking his words to heart. Deep down, you know that he won’t be that cruel but you’re so exhausted from the never-ending teasing, that you’re not willing to take any chances.

Hoseok holds up one of your legs and pushes it over his shoulder.

“Good girl.” He breaches your ass, both of you moaning as his cock works its way inside of you. It’s a tight fit; you can feel his cock bump into the vibrating dildo in your pussy, the feeling overwhelming you. He grunts, fingertips bruising your skin as he hold back from cumming too quickly.

His hips work up a steady rhythm, the both of you already so close to finishing. You know that a lesser man would have cum ages ago, but Hoseok troops on, eyebrows creased in concentration. He looks - hot. Ridiculously hot, even in that dumb fake masseuse uniform.

His once perfectly combed hair is now disheveled, strands of hair falling over his eyes and dripping brow. There’s something about all of it - the wild glint in his eyes, the rough way he’s fucking you, the domineering aura that he exudes - that makes you absolutely lose it.

You clench up on his cock without warning, your insides squeezing around him even more tightly because of the toy still lodged in your dripping cunt. The orgasm rips through you, fast and hard, leaving your thighs soaking. Hoseok fucks you through it, his cock relentless, drawing your pleasure out until your body goes limp.

It’s the kind of orgasm that on a normal day you could only hope to achieve.

Except Hoseok doesn’t stop to let you rest or take a breather. He brings your other leg over his shoulder, testing the limits of your flexibility, and uses the new angle to plow into you with renewed force.

“Ah - ah fuck wait!” You cry out, overwhelmed by the onslaught of sensations traveling through your body. “Oh my God, oh shit! You’re so fucking deep, ah!”

Hoseok chooses that moment to turn on the vibrating dildo. He doesn’t even start at the lowest setting, sets it straight to one of the higher level ones, and your whole body jumps. Both of you moan as the toy comes to life. The vibrations rattle your insides - and that, coupled with the fat cock that’s splitting you open relentlessly, threaten to rearrange your insides.

Arousal builds again quickly inside of you, pulsing steadily alongside your heartbeat.

You feel so fucking full you think it’s possible you’ll burst. Before, when you had both toys buried inside of you, the stretch and the fullness had been pleasant. You had even been able to tune it out for the most part once you’d got used to it.

But with the way Hoseok is now fucking into you with reckless abandon, it’s impossible not to be reminded of how stuffed your holes are. Every thrust of his cock in your ass bumps against the vibrator, pushing it harder against your bundle of nerves.

“I knew the minute I saw you,” he growls, his pace punishing. “No bra, pussy ripe for the picking. Whores like you could never be satisfied with the beginner massage. No, I knew exactly what you needed.”

He adjusts his grip on your ankles and the change in angle keeps the vibrator pressed directly the sensitive bundle of nerves inside of you.

“Fuck! Oh God, there there! Please, keep going. It’s so good. Fuck me!” You chant, out of your mind with pleasure.Your words are raw, unrefined, and in any other circumstance, you’d laugh at how ridiculous you sound.

“You’re so fucking loud,” he hisses between grunts of pleasure. “Why don’t you go ahead and cum for me. Make yourself useful and tighten up this hole of yours so I can feel good.”

He reaches down between your legs and fiddles with the switch.

You scream. Your eyes roll back and your entire body locks up. Intense pleasure that you’ve never experienced before thunders through your body. If your previous orgasm was like a building wave crashing to the shore at long last, this one is a fucking tornado determined to rip you to pieces.

Maybe you might’ve passed out. You don’t know. But when you regain consciousness, Hoseok’s cock is pulsing jet after jet of hot cum inside of your pussy. You feel it spurt inside of you, coating your already slick walls with his essence.

He pulls out quickly so that the camera can zoom in on the way the cum oozes out of you in thick globs. Instinctively you clench your walls to keep more from leaking out, but it only pushes more of the mess out, painting your inner thighs white.

When you glance up at him you notice his shirt is soaked. There’s a huge dark spot that starts from his chest to his pants. He doesn’t seem to mind the stain.

“You came so hard you passed out,” he informs you while tucking his spent cock back inside his scrubs. “I came inside of you while you were out of it but I figured you wouldn’t mind. That’s what you came here for, right?”

The smile he shoots your way looks more like a smirk. You bite your lip. He must’ve taken out the dildo - or it might’ve gotten pushed out during your orgasm, you don’t know - and you feel your holes gape a little after being stretched and used for so long. You’re tempted to snap your legs shut but you know the cameras need to record your debauchery.

“I’ll let you change. You can meet me out front to schedule your next appointment. Hm let’s see… Considering how well you reacted during this session I think we’ll have to take more, hm, drastic measures next time. I’m curious to see how far your greedy cunt is able to stretch with enough incentive. I’m positive that with you anything is possible. We’ll try fitting two cocks insides for starters and maybe - ah. I’m getting carried away.” He chuckles. “Anyways, meet me at the counter in ten minutes and we can go over the details then.”

“I…” You wet your lips. “I’d like that.”

A silence ensues and for a second you think your acting was bad or you’d said the wrong thing.

“CUT! And that, my friends, is what you call art!” yells Director Ryu, clapping his hands like a seal.

You breathe out a sigh of relief and sit up despite your muscles protesting loudly. God, your ass feels sore. Hoseok had really done a number on you.

“Hey, are you all good?” He asks, drawing closer to you in concern. He must have seen your grimace.

“Oh! Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for asking. It’s just - it was kind of intense. In a good way! I’ll probably be sore later but that’s because I’m not used to these kind of scenes yet.”

“You were really hot. I couldn’t tell this was your first anal scene at all.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Really.” Hoseok sighs dreamily. “I think I saw Jesus when I came.”

“What?” You bring a hand to your mouth to muffle your laughter. “It was a good nut, I take it?”

“The best.” He looks over at you, dimples on his cheek as he returns your smile. “I blacked out for a second and went to heaven.”

You bask in the afterglow for a few minutes longer than you usually would. Hoseok makes no move to leave either, even if logic dictates that you’re both better off washing up instead of letting the mixture of sweat, cum, and oil dry on your skin. You know from experience that it’s hard as fuck to clean up once it hardens - not to mention it stinks.

“Babe!”

You’re roused from your peaceful state of mind as your boyfriend approaches. He’s smiling but one side of his mouth looks stiff. He hands you a towel, eyes trailing down your figure, and suddenly you feel self-conscious. You hurriedly wrap the fluffy material around you, eager to hide the cum still dripping out of your swollen cunt and the red marks littered over your body from Hoseok’s rough treatment.

It’s not - you’re not ashamed. You never are. It’s just - you don’t want to hurt Jimin. Even if it does come with the job, it can’t be easy for him to see his girlfriend getting fucked by someone else.

“That was so good! You did great. The camera really loves you. I can’t wait to see how the final cut turns out,” Jimin compliments and you preen despite yourself, conditioned to suck up praise. “Are you hungry?”

Just on cue your stomach lets out a grumble.

Jimin’s eyes crease into crescents as he smiles. “I knew it. You’re always famished after a scene. It’s a good thing I booked a reservation at our favorite restaurant, right?”

You nod, thankful yet again that you have such a caring and thoughtful boyfriend. “I’m famished now that you mention it.”

Hoseok observes the exchange silently and his presence makes you embarrassed for some reason. Maybe not embarrassed but - something. You can’t put a name to the emotion.

“Um, I’ll see you around?” You say as you gather to your feet. Jimin is instantly by your side, his hand wrapping around yours tightly. “It was nice working with you again! Thank you for your hard work.”

Hoseok’s lips quirk into a half-smile. He’s still eyeing the both of you in a strange, intense kind of way and the scrutiny makes you fidgety. You try not to make your desire to flee the scene too transparent.

“It’s always a pleasure. I look forward to working with you again.”

The words he utters are tactful and diplomatic - nothing like the carefree familiarity he’d showcased minutes prior. You don’t blame him, given the circumstances.

You shoot him an apologetic look as you turn away to leave. To your relief, Hoseok doesn’t appear dejected or offended. Just - curious, maybe? Pensive? Like he’s in the middle of solving a complicated and intricate puzzle and that puzzle involves you.

The idea scares you. Mostly because you yourself don’t know what he’ll find.

As soon as you’ve rounded the corner, Jimin excuses himself. “I have to finish helping the guys. There’s still some equipment to put away. But we’ll meet out in the back like last time?”

“Sure.”

He kisses your cheek and scampers away.

Seokjin is waiting for you in the next room over. He’s holding a water bottle, your favorite silk robe, and a dark chocolate energy bar. You’re so sweaty that it feels silly to wear the robe but you shrug it on anyway, knowing that Jimin will feel better if you’re not parading around the set naked.

Your stomach rumbles loudly and it’s only then that you realize the extent of how fucking hungry you are. Non-stop sex sure is tiring, you note while ripping open the energy bar with your teeth. Seokjin calls you a savage under his breath but those types of comments are so commonplace that it’s easy to tune him out.

“God, I could kiss you right now,” you say after swallowing down a mouthful of granola. After eating spinach exclusively for the past three days, the sweetness on your tongue tastes like a slice of heaven.

“Not with that mouth, you won’t.” Seokjin narrows his eyes. “I know where it’s been.”

Still high from your mind-shattering orgasm, you giggle and pretend to kiss him just to watch him squirm. It’s not until much later, after you’d washed up as best you could with the help of baby wipes, that you check your phone. You respond to a text or two before finally checking your social media page out of habit more so than anything else.

(2) new notifications

JHOPE94 has followed you!

JHOPE94 has mentioned you in their story.

It’s the same account Hoseok had shown you earlier in the day. You follow him without much thought, grinning to yourself when you read his bio “hope on streets and in the sheets ;)”, and click on his Instagram story.

You’re surprised to learn he’s one of those people who uploads multiple pictures about just about anything - his Starbucks’ coffee cup with JAY written in black sharpie, several mirror selfies, a snapshot of his shoes, pictures of the film crew setting up the scene. You click through the pictures, a little flummoxed by the random collage, and pause when you get to the picture you’d been tagged in.

It’s you. Squinting, you realize that he must have taken the candid picture in passing. You’re sitting in the hair and makeup chair, the makeup artist applying a layer of gloss on your lips. The row of lights that border all around the vanity mirror give your figure a halo spotlight effect.

JHOPE94 : not in heaven but i saw an angel today :))

#once again the italics did not transfer over but i rlly can’t be bothered at this point ;;#i am so happy this is done but also nervous agshsisjskss #bts smut #hoseok smut #bts #hoseok #also as usual I did not proof the last 4k bc I speed wrote the last bit in one go #believe me when i say i cannot look at this draft any longer !

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ashxketchum · 3 years ago

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For the handholding prompts! Taiora + 37? :3 Have a lovely day

Hello! Sorry for such a long wait, at first I was really confused by what I should write for Taiora with this prompt, and by the time I got around to outlining the scene, life happened 😔

But finally today I was able to sit down and get this out of my brain! This is set right after the battle with Ordinemon in Tri Part 6 and is mostly canon compliant. I hope you enjoy it, thank you for requesting 🧡

37. not realizing they’re holding hands till someone points it out

Taichi’s gut kept telling him that he was missing something, but he brushed it away. What could he be possibly missing when he was sitting with a wall of comfort surrounding him? That’s why even as the thought continued to gnaw at him, he refused to open his eyes and acknowledge the problem, it could be dealt with later, when his nap would be over and he would wake up feeling well rested and refreshed. For now he wanted to bask in the feeling of floating in sunshine, with every aching muscle in his body being cured of it’s pain, every tired fibre in his body being refuelled with energy. He wouldn’t dare open his eyes right now, not when he could hide under this umbrella of comfort for a little while longer, because who knew if it would still be there to shelter him from the stinging raindrops of reality when he woke, or if it would leave him drenched and broken, as it had once before.

NEXT STATION-

The words rang in his ears like a blaring alarm and suddenly Taichi was very much aware of where he was and what he was supposed to be doing. His eyes jolted open and he made to get up, when a familiar weight on his shoulder made him halt as realisation dawned fully upon him, of course the warmth had belonged to Sora who still slept quietly with her whole body leaning on him and her head resting on his shoulder, just like two puzzle pieces perfectly aligned.

The announcement echoed again throughout the train compartment and Taichi broke out of his daze, deciding that now was not the time to marvel over these little things, he quickly stood up. When he did so, Sora woke with a start, her eyes fluttering open in slow motion, but as they didn’t really have time for her to be fully awake, Taichi grabbed her hand in his and pulled her onto her feet, dragging her behind him as he rushed to get out of the train just as the doors slid shut.

He turned to face Sora and ask her if she was feeling okay but saw that her eyes were still drooping low and she held on to his grasp on her hand tightly for support as her feet wobbled out of balance. Taichi couldn’t really blame her, in fact he was relieved that he wasn’t the only one who felt like they had been made to run a marathon for 1000 years without a break. The visits to Digital World, the adventure and the battles had always been exhausting, but today their strength had been put to test in a way that none of them had ever expected to encounter, and the price of overcoming it all was pure exhaustion, both mentally and physically.

So Taichi kept quiet and gently pulled Sora along with himself across the mostly empty platform, glad that he had been the one to volunteer to take her home as he was so familiar with the route that he could probably reach there even with his eyes closed. He also didn’t mind the silence that had settled between them as they walked slowly but steadily, as Taichi wasn’t sure if he had anything left to say to anyone after the lengthy interrogation him and his friends had been subjected to by the authorities right after Ordinemon had been defeated, without so much as a moment spared for them to deal with the loss of their Digimon friend.

Even though Taichi’s session had lasted the longest as he was the only one to witness Nishijima’s demise he still felt that Sora had been subjected to a more difficult task, which was consoling not just Meiko, but also Hikari and Mimi as they had sat in the room waiting to be called in for questioning. As always, she had given every bit of her energy into taking care of others rather than herself, so Taichi attempted to make things easier for her the only way he knew how to, by keeping quiet and giving her the space to deal with everything at her own pace.

It was when they reached her home and rang the bell that Sora finally looked like she was awake, right on time Taichi thought, as at least he’d be able to tell her to take care of herself and have her actually retain those words in her head. So he turned slightly, hoping to bid her goodbye before her mother opened the door, but as tired as he was, he missed his chance to make a quick escape. The door swung open before he could open his mouth and a bright light was cast upon them and the dimly lit hallway.

Mrs. Takenouchi stood behind the door, looking like she had rushed to the door in a hurry that was uncommon for her, her face an odd mixture of relief and concern as she studied her daughter. Then her eyes travelled down and she raised them in mild surprise, another thing which was unusual for the stern Mrs. Takenouchi, so both Taichi and Sora followed her astonished gaze and experienced a rude awakening themselves as they saw that their hands were still tightly clasped around each other’s. They quickly pulled their hands away and shifted a few steps away from each other to put some distance between them.

Taichi was amazed by how despite of being so tired, his body could still find the energy to turn his face into a heated mess, and smoke coming out of his ears now wouldn't come as a shock to anyone.

“Good evening, Mrs. Takenouchi.” He mumbled awkwardly to fill the silence and draw attention away from the fact that he had been unknowingly holding onto Sora’s hand for who knows how long now. He could only hope that Sora too knew that it had been unintentional, and that he hadn’t meant to overstep his boundaries.

“Good evening, Taichi. I am relieved to see that you’re both okay, though you do look like you need a few days worth of rest.” She smiled softly at the two teens, turning to face her daughter with an affectionate gaze, she added, “Sora, welcome back.”

“I’m home.” Sora replied almost automatically, and satisfied with the response Mrs. Takenouchi passed a peculiar look to her daughter before she headed back inside, leaving the two of them alone to say their goodbyes.

Sora took this chance to move inside her house, now taking Mrs. Takenouchi’s place in the doorway, finally facing Taichi with her eyes wide open, though they were still filled with reflections of what had transpired in the past few days.

Taichi remembered that he had been meaning to tell her to take care of herself before her mother had arrived at the door, but when he looked at Sora now, with her figure illuminated by the white light coming from inside her house, her vermillion eyes shining with tears that were being kept at bay with every bit of remaining energy in her body, he lost the words he had so carefully selected a few moments ago. He wished instead that telling her how much he cared for her and her wellbeing could be as easy as taking her hand and pulling her to her feet. He knew he had to say something however, because not only had the silence between them become suddenly deafening, but also because he couldn’t possibly leave without a word of appreciation or gratefulness for all that she had done for Hikari and the rest of them today.

“Don’t forget to eat dinner,” He joked, hoping to lighten the mood enough to easily slip the words he wanted to say out of his mouth, but his half-grin seemed to light something in Sora as one lonely tear slipped down her cheek slowly despite her strained efforts to keep it from happening.

“Don’t ever disappear like that again, Taichi.” Her voice trembled as she spoke and Taichi felt a pang in his chest at her tone, “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t come back. You can’t leave me behind just like that!”

“I’m sorry.” Taichi muttered quietly, that was all that he could manage to say out loud.

In reality he wanted to remind her that there were other people in her life who would easily be able to fill the gap he would leave, that it was not fair for her to stand there and tell him this, knowing well enough who he had meant to save in that moment. But he held his tongue, it had been a long few days for both of them and now was not the time to turn regrets of the past into bitter remarks that he may never be able to go back from.

“Please. Promise me, you will never do that again.” Her pleading voice was just above a whisper and it was a miracle that it even reached his ears.

“I will, if you promise something in return too.” Taichi replied in a determined tone, his hands balling up into fists on their own as he fixed her with an intense gaze. Sora looked at him with doubt at first, but eventually nodded at his words tiredly, “You have to promise to start putting yourself first from now on, no matter what.”

“That’s a difficult promise to make.”

“So is what you’re asking of me.” Taichi refused to back down.

“I’m asking you to take care of yourself, that isn’t too hard.”

“Likewise.”

And silence settled between them once again as Sora glared up at him and Taichi returned the favour with equal vigour. He had no idea how either of them still had the energy to keep this up, but even if it meant sacrificing being closer to his bed for a little while longer, he would gladly do so to get Sora to treat herself better. If he had learned anything from what they had all been through in the past few days, it was that change should always be embraced, for better or for worse. He didn’t know just how much Sora could change her ways or how it would affect her presence in all of the Digidestined’s lives, but he knew that if she didn’t start now then she wouldn’t start ever and he was tired of seeing her be the victim of her own labours of love.

“Okay.” She sighed in defeat, as her glare turned into an exhausted and disgruntled stare, “Okay, I promise to put myself first from now on, no matter what.”

“And I promise to take care of myself and not jump headfirst into danger without a second thought.” Taichi chimed after her, a smile spreading across his face as he realised that he’d actually gotten Sora to bend to his demands.

There was a first time for everything, he thought to himself, and secretly hoped that this wouldn’t be the last of it either.

#taiora #taichi yagami #sora takenouchi #digimon #digimon fanfiction #digimon adventure tri #writealot #you know a taichi pov was pending from me when I inserted him in literally all the mimato oneshots lol #one more request to go from this series and i hope to get it done soon!

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daleisgreat · 3 years ago

Text

30 Years of Super Nintendo - Flashback Special

The Super Nintendo Entertainment System (SNES) recently celebrated its 30th anniversary of the North American launch, so it seems the perfect time to post a Flashback Special honoring it! Suppose you have not perused a past Flashback Special of mine (all linked at the bottom of this entry). In that case, they are essentially my history with the platform over the years, with a little bit of history thrown in, and recounting all my favorite games, accessories, memories, and moments with the system.

Odds are for the average gaming enthusiast reading this, and you probably are familiar with the core details of the SNES launch stateside (if not, then I highly recommend CGQ’s video on it for a quick breakdown). The SNES launched in 1991 when I was eight. I did not have a subscription to any gaming magazines yet, so I most likely first found out about the system around that time from classmates at the time at school, the infamous Paul Rudd commercial, and the fourth season of Roseanne that transpired from 1991-92. I vividly remember the Roseanne episode with her son, DJ, pleading with his parents for the brand new SNES for his birthday gift and how his parents dreaded not being able to afford the system. I covered that episode when I did my Roseanne complete series re-watch here in the year leading up to the relaunch of the show several years ago. It brought back memories of how that was the story with my parents also denying me the much sought-after SNES, saying it cost too much and that I already have an NES to tide me over. ”But mommmmm, the SNES is 16-bits!!!!” Yeah….playing that angle got me nowhere. Kiosks & Friends The first couple of years for the SNES, I mostly remember playing at store kiosks. Super Mario World blew me away from the brief time I played it with it being such a leap from the NES installments. I always ate up the precious few minutes I could procure at a store kiosk if no one were playing Super Mario Kart. One last store kiosk memory was eye-gazing over the impressive WWF Royal Rumble. I loved WWF WrestleFest in the arcade, and for a couple of years, it was the only WWF game that offered up WWF’s marquee over-the-top rope elimination match, the Royal Rumble, and it was endlessly fun to play in the arcade. Fast-forward to playing it on console kiosks around its 1993 release, and I could not eat up enough of that game’s Royal Rumble mode either, and at the time, the graphics seemed like a huge step up from the wrestling games on NES. One of my favorite issues of Nintendo Power is the 50th issue that did a several-page spread on WWF Royal Rumble that I must have thoroughly re-read at least a dozen times.

I read this NP spread of WWF Royal Rumble many times, and it was one of my initially most desired SNES games! Around 1993/94, a couple of friends and classmates started to get the Super Nintendo. An early SNES memory that stuck with me all these years is my grade school friend, Jon-Paul, having me over for his birthday where he rented a SNES console and Street Fighter II: Turbo from the video store, and we played it for several hours straight. Another is spending a lot of 1994 at my neighborhood friend’s place, where we played countless sessions of NBA Jam and Mortal Kombat II. Both games were big on codes and secrets and perfect two-player games. I was just regularly getting into video game magazines at this time and ate up issues of Tips & Tricks, Game Players, and Electronic Gaming Monthly to see what kind of hidden character and other much-rumored codes were making the waves each month for both of these games. Mortal Kombat II especially dominated the code-fervor that season with trying to uncover how to face off against secret characters like Jade, Noob Saibot, and Smoke, and trying to memorize all the input sequences for the game’s infamous Fatalities. Fast forward to late 1995/early 1996, and I still did not have a SNES, but a new neighborhood friend, Rich, just got one and the next several months at his place introduced me to so many SNES games. Rich kind of got me somewhat into RPGs at the time, and while it may not sound fun on paper, there were many times I recall just kind of embracing the role of “armchair gamer.” I did this for games like EVO: Search for Eden, and Eye of the Beholder while keeping an eye out during gameplay to offer whatever suggestions seemed viable.

FFVI was eye-opening to me at the time of what video game narratives were capable of, and I devoured the latest secrets for FFVI discovered in the latest issue of my Game Players subscription that was delivered. The RPG I felt like that I contributed something to was the game that was originally released as Final Fantasy III. That game featured two-player support for battles only, so it was refreshing to help Rich with progressing through the game finally. My two favorite characters to use were Sabin and Cyan. That game especially blew me away with its larger-than-life story with two different game worlds, the momentous opera scene with Celes, the dazzling mode-seven graphics when traveling via airship or Chocobo, constantly getting irked at Shadow whenever he deserted the party, and so many other priceless moments. Over the years, I tried restarting the GBA version on a couple of occasions and regrettably have yet to finish it. Finally Owning a SNES….in 1996

Growing up with divorced parents put me in a unique childhood when it came to gaming. I lived with my mom, who provided for us as best as possible for the three siblings I grew up with, so we only had an NES for us for the longest time. However, when visiting my dad on weekends, he would always be big on hitting up as many garage sales and second-hand stores as possible and would acquire whatever he thought seemed like a bargain. Games-wise, this usually meant he lagged behind a generation because everyone was offloading their Atari VCS/2600s at garage sales for cheap when the NES was king, so I could have a great couple of years to become familiar with the pioneering-era of games on Atari. He then got into the NES scene when the SNES hit in 1991. Sure enough, the same month the N64 launched in America in September 1996 was when he bought a Super Nintendo for the family used at our local Premiere Video. The game we picked up with it was Street Fighter II: Turbo. My dad instantly remarked upon booting it up the noticeable jump in graphics. We played nothing but Capcom’s second Street Fighter game on SNES for a few weekends. I could only finish that game by button mashing into a victory against the final boss, M. Bison, once….with M. Bison. I still have a lot of love for this era of Street Fighter - whether it be for the roster, every character’s stage and theme music, and receiving Nintendo Power’s strategy guide for the game for Christmas and studying it regularly to improve.

After a few weeks, we realized we needed something else than a fighting game, and after another trip to Premiere Video, we came home with Super Mario All-Stars. It felt like the easy choice to go with 16-bit remakes of all four 8-bit versions of the core Mario Bros. games. Every game felt like a whole different game with all-new graphics and sound, and more importantly, being able to save progress midgame. This was a bigger hit with the entire family, and it provided many days of taking turns in its alternating two-player mode to see who could get the farthest in the four Mario games included.

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Make sure to have some tissues by your side as you witness FFIII/VI's infamous "opera" scene. Seriously, this was mind-blowing stuff to 13-year old Dale in 1996. 16-bit Sportsball Fun

After playing a lot of those first two SNES games, I went into this stretch for the next several years, where most of what I played was sports and wrestling games. I attribute this to many multiplayer sessions with Rich, my brother, Joe, and my dad. I know my dad was not all that into sports other than a passing interest in rooting on hometown Minnesota pro-sports teams. Still, I have to give him credit for spending as much time with us and taking the time to learn and become a pretty solid player at teaming up with me in many sports games. It is worth noting that I feel the 16-bit era is probably the last-gen where most of its library of sports games had a relatively simple pick-up-and-play feel that NES games had. That changed a little bit in the final SNES years, where it was usually EA’s games that started to incorporate more realism in their sports games and make use of most of the buttons of the SNES controller. For football, Madden NFL ‘97 was the one I played the most. I played plenty of the Genesis version at Rich's place, so much so that I noticed too many little differences with the SNES version to make it stand out on its own. For 16-bit sports nuts that want to know, the Genesis version had the better playing version, but the SNES had a better overall presentation and more popping audio and visuals. I was part of a small slice of sports gamers big into NES Play Action Football, and the 16-bit version played almost exactly like the NES version, but with a 16-bit upgrade and also has a nifty feature to play games at the high school, college, or NFL level.

NBA Jam and NBA Hangtime dominated my 16-bit sports lineup. The code scene for these games were so intense at the time I had to keep my own binder of notes on them all that I still have today as seen above! As I alluded to earlier, when it came to hoops, I played way too much NBA Jam the first year it was out at my friend’s place. However, the arcade hoops game I played the most on SNES was NBA Hangtime, which was developed by the same people who made Jam. I got that game new for Christmas in 1996 and must have played it regularly with Rich for nearly a year straight. I do not hear that game receive the same level of praise as Jam, but it added a few new fun layers to freshen up the gameplay, like being able to do co-op dunks and earn “Team Fire,” and being able to create players. For more simulation-focused hoops, I played a lot of NBA Live ’96 with my dad, in addition to Nintendo’s NCAA Basketball which appeared like a technical marvel to me that was ahead of its time with the mode-seven camera allowing constant 3D rotation whenever possession of the ball changed and foreshadowed what would become the go-to camera perspective for the next-gen of basketball games. Finally, I will cherish my time with Bill Laimbeer’s Combat Basketball for it being the only hoops game I ever had to consult a guide to figure out how to shoot the damn ball….and for its surprisingly rocking soundtrack. Find out all about it when I broke that game down with the Your Parents Basement crew on their penultimate podcast.

Nintendo incorporated the same camera style into its hockey game, NHL Stanley Cup. Its graphics also impressed me, but it was rather challenging to score a goal, and I did not have as much fun with it. I played EA’s hockey games more on Genesis than SNES, but EA’s baseball game, MLBPA Baseball, was the hardball game I spent the most time with on Super Nintendo. Many years later, I picked up Nintendo’s Ken Griffey Jr. Presents: Major League Baseball, and had some fun with it, but already played the Game Boy version of it to death by the time I picked up the SNES version, and thus did not invest as much time with it as I did with EA’s game. Wanna Wrassle!?

I must have read through this review of WWF RAW countless times in my youth, and seeing how this essentially is a bigger and better version of Royal Rumble only increased my desire to one day own a SNES! The North American wrestling library was a significant step up from the bottom of the stairwell where most of the NES games hung out….but on the SNES, it only made it roughly halfway up the stairs. The aforementioned WWF Royal Rumble provided many hours of fun for its day, but it has not stood the test of time with the button-mashing grapple meter it featured that will obliterate thumbs on the normal difficulty level! Its sequel, WWF RAW, was noteworthy for having more match types available and being one of the first games to have a selectable female wrestler in Luna Vachon, but it too used that same ill-fated grapple meter that has not aged well. WWF Wrestlemania: The Arcade Game is a fun little hybrid of Mortal Kombat and wrestling, but the SNES version is notorious for lacking two wrestlers compared to all other home versions.

For non-WWF games, WCW SuperBrawl Wrestling is rather unremarkable….except for its exceptional wrestler select screen.There were a few interesting unlicensed wrestling games in America. Natsume Championship Wrestling featured a solid wrestling engine but removed/altered the AJPW wrestlers from the Japanese version of the game. Hammerlock had a promising concept of having part of the screen dedicated to nonstop Tecmo-esque cinematics. In contrast, the other half of the screen featured 2D gameplay, but the cameras constantly flipped on screen, to which half was dedicated to cinematics or gameplay. It resulted in it being a jarring mess. Saturday Night Slam Masters is no such mess, however, and is a better hybrid of fighting game meets wrestling game, with this one done by Capcom. It features larger-than-life character sprites, full-on ring entrances with laser lights, and is a fun-playing combination of wrestling and Street Fighter. To top it off, Slam Masters has Final Fight’s Mike Haggar on the roster to boot!

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Joey Pink does a fine job detailing why Capcom's "Street Fighter" in a wrestling ring should not be missed! Ensuring RPGs are here to Stay Aside from watching Rich play some of the RPGs I listed above, and of course, playing Final Fantasy VI with him, I did get a chance to play a few other RPGs on the SNES over the years, and it was not until the last few years that I finally finished a couple of them. In the late 1990s I first started two RPGs that stood out to me at the time because they broke out of the medieval fantasy mold most other RPGs at the time took place in. Shadowrun on the SNES was drastically different from the Genesis version I first encountered at Rich’s. This one still had the same futuristic cyberpunk world setting and terminology, but there were many more dialog options with NPCs that were pivotal in asking the right questions to progress the story. Additionally, the hacking games played out differently and had more of a puzzle theme to them than the action-oriented ones in the Genesis version, and the combat had kind a PC interface where a cursor had to be dragged across the screen on which target to aim at. I still wound up being totally into it and became stuck in the back half of the game before my save data became corrupted. I thought that would end my days with Shadowrun…

SNES Shadowrun remains one of my all-time favorite RPGs as of this writing! The final gauntlet tower was an ordeal and a half to work through, only to face off against a dragon as the final boss! …until nearly two decades later in 2016. I mentioned on past flashback specials how I occasionally guest host on the Your Parents Basement podcast, where they cover a random retro game per episode. In 2016 they asked me if there were any games I had in mind to cover, and Shadowrun felt like worth revisiting and possibly knocking off the “must beat this game” bucket list. I progressed until about a little over halfway through by the time we all met to record and broke down the game, but by that point, I just started to make further progress than my last effort and was determined to see this one through! I was playing on actual SNES hardware and was surprised that the battery still held a save but ran into trouble in the final tower with a gauntlet of enemies on each floor to overcome before the final boss. I looked up a walkthrough and discovered an exploit to grind experience to beef up my character. Eventually, I managed to persevere and finally conquer the final boss, a fire-breathing dragon, to cross finishing Shadowrun off my bucket list! I had a riot podcasting with the YPB crew about it too, so please click or press here to give it a listen if you want to know more about this under-the-radar 16-bit RPG.

Fast forward three years later in 2019, and the awesome YPB hosts of Steve, Huell, and Todd helped me once again restart and finish another SNES RPG that I came close to finishing in the late 1990s before evil corrupt save data reared its ugly head again. This time the game of choice is the uber-expensive Earthbound. Like Shadowrun, that game stood out to me because its setting went against the grain of fantasy settings and instead took place in modern times as grade school kids. The opening levels felt like getting lost in your neighborhood and using childlike items as weapons like Yo-Yos and baseball bats. I do not own that ridiculously expensive game, but by 2019 I did own a SNES Mini (more on that in a bit) that I made sure to abuse the save state and the rewind functions it provided to overcome some troubling bosses in the back half of the game. That final act of the game certainly goes places with its sci-fi twists and feels like an entirely different game, but I still loved it all the same! It felt exhilarating to finally knock this one off my “to do” list as well, and I had just as much fun dissecting it to pieces with the YPB crew that you can check out by click or pressing here. Unfortunately, this is where my extensive hands-on time with SNES RPGs comes to an end. I played a lot of FFIII/VI, and finished Earthbound, and Shadowrun. Sure, I dabbled in several other games but did not put more than an hour or two into them. One of those games is the much-heralded, Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past, and I have no excuse for never sticking with it because I loved the NES original. It was the GBA re-release I played, and I think I was spreading myself thin while playing and reviewing too many games simultaneously. Lufia and Breath of Fire II were another pair of RPGs I put a couple of hours into that both left me with promising first impressions, but there was a whole other reason why I did not go back to those again, and that is because then I was waist-deep at the time in….. Discovering Emulation Right around the time my family acquired its first computer in the fall of 1997 was when I found out about emulation. It seemed way too good to be true to easily download and play games right on the computer, especially when factoring in the SNES was at the tail end of its lifecycle, and there were still new games releasing for it. As an unemployed 9th grader at the time, I sampled countless 8- and 16-bit ROMs with the SNES games I was the most curious about. A few of the RPGs in the previous paragraph being prime examples of the ones I invested the most time into. It proved to be overwhelming with so many choices, but I took a long sabbatical after a year or so of taking in the emulation scene after the family computer crashed and I lost all the save data I had amassed in so many games.

It has been interesting to see how emulation has evolved over the years from programs like SNES9X and Retroarch to being incorporated into machines like the MISTer, RetroPi, and Retron 5. Nintendo has learned to embrace official, legal emulation over the years with purchasable digital classic games on systems such as the Wii, WiiU, and 3DS. Having a stable income as an adult now many years later, I feel guilty for embracing the emulation scene so hard in my teenage years, so much so that whenever Nintendo re-releases one of its classic hits several times over, I choose to purchase it again (well…usually at a sale price) to redeem myself. Keeping SNES Alive Today

Over the years, I find myself diving into retro games versus the latest and greatest coming out. I am a fan of the various SNES hardware updates/clones, both officially from Nintendo and unofficially from other companies, which has kept my SNES and other retro game fandom blood flowing over the decades. I am unsure if it feels right to lump it in here, but the Super Game Boy lead to me getting a lot of extra life out of my SNES. Playing Game Boy games on the big screen was a big deal to me back then, considering it was always a pain to make out what was happening on the non-backlit handheld. For some reason, those special border screens that would eventually have funny animations after being left idle for so long made an impression on me. Game Boy games with the “Super Game Boy Enhanced” logo on the front of the box usually have their own exclusive border and special color palette. I loved the Mole Mania and Donkey Kong Land borders the most! I thought it was rad that around 15-20 special enhanced Super Game Boy titles featured multiplayer support with two SNES controllers. They consisted almost entirely of Bomberman and fighting games, but it was still a cool feature nonetheless. The handheld Hyperkin SupaBoy is the unauthorized SNES take on the Sega Nomad by having a portable SNES. It is a bit on the bulky side, but it has a rechargeable battery, and its support has been flawless with my entire SNES library. Another Hyperkin product I got a lot of use out of is the Retron 5. I know that particular clone system is controversial with retro game enthusiasts based on the unauthorized emulators it implements. However, the user interface and emulation support made it possible for me to make record progress in many SNES games by taking advantage of save states and its optional Game Genie-esque cheats library. The SNES Classic Edition is an excellent official piece of hardware from Nintendo that has the pint-sized SNES pre-installed with 21 SNES games, one of which is previously unreleased Star Fox 2. It has an adorably intuitive interface and supports game rewinding and save states, which made it the way I was finally able to finish Earthbound. It was also surprisingly not-so-difficult to plug into a PC and import a bunch of SNES ROMs into. Other companies like 8bitdo made that system extra convenient by making their recommended wireless controllers compatible with it!

If you did not grow up with the SNES, then both of these options are great entry points for those looking to move on beyond emulators. The Analogue Super NT may have been pushing it too much price-wise. When it comes down to the nuts and bolts of emulation tech, I am not a wizard by any means, except that by all sources, it sounds like the Super NT offers the best hardware emulation with its FPGA technology. It makes SNES games appear as pristine as possible on an HD/4KTV without any or as minimal of the fuzziness that happens whenever I try plugging in the composite/RCA cables from a base SNES system into a 4K/HDTV. For those unfamiliar with the Super NT, this video from the My Life in Gaming crew does a thorough dissection of everything it has to offer. The list of options in there is intimidating to mess around with, but this sounds like the way to go if one wants to keep playing their cartridges……although I have to admit I am pretty satisfied currently with the Retron 5 and SNES Classic Edition.

Odds are some of you are quite a bit younger than me and grew up post-SNES lifecycle. Not interested in going down the pricey road of hunting down old cartridges and hardware, and do not want to dabble on the dark side of illegal emulation? Then a terrific alternative is if you have a Switch with Nintendo’s $20/year online service membership and taking advantage of the Nintendo Switch Online and Super Nintendo Switch Online digital game portals. It has unlimited access to the slate of games on there, along with save points as long as your membership remains active. The implementation of save states and the user interface has also improved noticeably over the emulation used for NES & SNES Classic Editions. More importantly, it adds the feature to play online with a friend. Last year I played online SNES games with my nephew, who was wrapping up 6th grade at the time, and this was his first time playing SNES games. He loves Mario Kart 8 on Switch, and so when the first game we played was the original Super Mario Kart, I could not help but crack up when he instantly remarked, “Dale, this looks old!” He eventually came around, and then we had some fun playing co-op , Joe & Mac . A couple of years ago, on my Genesis Flashback Special, I made sure to reminisce of my fond memories of the summer I spent playing nonstop Sega Channel. These NES/SNES Switch portals are essentially the Sega Channel, but far better because it does not cost $15 a month (in 1994 dollars which equals $27.63 today per Google), offers multiple save states, and ability to play online for only $20 a year!!! Kids, get your parents to hook you up now!!! Miscellaneous Quick Hits

SNES games were the most common denominator on six of the 13 episodes I guest hosted on the retro game podcast, Your Parents Basement. Check out their full archives by click or pressing here. -Turns out I did quite a few guest hosting spots on Your Parents Basement Podcast for SNES games. For those that are podcasting fiends and dug the three episodes I linked to already, then I will link you to three more SNES themed episodes I appeared on where I breathed in the Mode 7 skies of Pilotwings, embraced Capcom’s action-platformer prowess in X-Men: Mutant Apocalypse, and made sure not to miss any Gatorade and Wheaties health pick-ups in Michael Jordan: Chaos in the Windy City.

-The SNES controller is my favorite pre-disc console era controller. It kept the similar button layout of the NES controller but rounded off the edges into its iconic “dog bone” feel so the controller no longer cramped in your hands! Throw in the two extra face buttons and two additional shoulder buttons, and it opened up all kinds of deeper gameplay possibilities! It made it perfect for most fighting games that used almost all the face and shoulder buttons. I found the shoulder buttons were also smartly implemented in NBA Jam/Hangtime for being assigned to use for turbo speed functionality. As far as other SNES controllers/peripherals go, since I loved the NES Zapper, I always wanted to try the Super Scope, but as a kiddo, its bazooka-sized proportions were kind of intimidating. It still kind of bums me out all these years I never got to experience it with epics like Yoshi’s Safari, T2: The Arcade Game, and Tin Star. I never had an opportunity to use the SNES mouse either, which I kind of regret all these years later after seeing all the marvelous creations from experts at Mario Paint, and it was cool to see some PC ports like Civilization, Doom, and Wolfenstein 3D take advantage of SNES Mouse compatibility.

-The 16-bit era was when fighting games exploded, and as you can tell above, I spent a lot of time with Street Fighter II: Turbo, and the first two Mortal Kombat games. Other than that, though, the only other fighting game on SNES I put significant time into was TMNT Tournament Fighters. It was released at the tail end of the TMNT-mania when the cartoon peaked at its popularity. The game itself was a surprisingly competent licensed fighting game from Konami, and tried its best to feel like a solid Street Fighter-clone. Speaking of them pesky turtles… -…TMNT IV: Turtles in Time was the only beat-em-up brawler I put considerable time into on the SNES. I have vague memories of trying others out once or twice like The Peace Keepers, and Super Double Dragon, but Turtles in Time was the one I frequently revisited over the years. It is a superb rendition of the arcade game, with SNES-exclusive levels like the Technodrome that had a fantastic first-person boss fight against Shredder, where lowly Foot Soldiers had to be chucked right at him to defeat Shredder. The soundtrack is one of my favorite SNES scores, so much so that I went all-in to get the for it! I have so many great memories of this game, with the highlight being my friend Matt and I revisiting this for complete runs of it once every year or two for about a dozen years.

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Turtles in Time and FFIII/VI are my favorite SNES soundtracks, but Turtles in Time I own on vinyl so I will embed it here in all its glory for you to enjoy as well!

-The SNES library had a quality slate of racing games. Super Mario Kart quickly rose to the top of the ranks and was always fun to bust through a GP with a friend. Street Racer was one of the first kart-clones to hit in 1994, and for some reason, that one always stuck with me. As did it being one of the few games to have four-player split-screen support with all four screens being horizontal! Rock ‘n Roll Racing is another killer arcade racer on SNES; think of a more beefed up RC Pro-AM, but with a good dose of heavy metal mixed in. This past year saw it re-released as part of the Blizzard Arcade Collection for everyone to experience it! I remember trying out F-Zero at a store kiosk around SNES launch, but was too young at eight years old at the time to fully grasp its style of futuristic racing (or that the name was a riff on F1 racing until a couple of years ago). I was more into a game similar to its style that was the trilogy of Top Gear titles. Uniracers was a quirky racer I enjoyed with its unique aesthetic and one-wheeled racers taking advantage of their nature in races filled with jumps and loop-de-loops….too bad about Pixar holding a grudge against Nintendo and legally forcing them to yank it off shelves. Nintendo’s other racer, Stunt Race FX, was ahead of its time with the polygonal FX-based graphics running pretty chunky on the SNES. Still, it is a commendable piece of 16-bit tech they were just barely able to keep running at a passable-enough framerate. Another FX-chip game that did not originally gel with me was…

-…the original Star Fox. Being 10 when it released in 1993, I thought those polygonal graphics looked blocky and horrendous and would have none of it! Many years later, I would revisit it and rightfully come around on it! -Another Nintendo-published game that received a lot of hype was Donkey Kong Country with its cutting-edge 3D models. They were plastered all over gaming mags at the time. I briefly recall trying out the first and second of the three Donkey Kong Country games on SNES. However, I did not put more time into them because I beat Donkey Kong Land on Game Boy before our family got a SNES, which was just a watered-down port with some remixed levels for the handheld. I enjoyed my time with it, but its disappointingly blunt “congratulations” ending left a bad impression on me, and I never felt like giving the other entries a serious go all these years.

-Some may be wondering why there has yet not been anything dedicated to the pair of Super Mario World titles and Super Mario RPG? Super Mario World was probably one of the first SNES games I tried when I visited my older brother at his first apartment in the early 90s. I think the heavy-duty graphics and trying to comprehend attacking with Yoshi proved to be too much for eight or nine-year-old me at the time. I played it a few other times in my 20s, hanging out with coworkers on retro game nights, and had fun with it, but I think since I was exposed to the NES trilogy more and played the hell out of All-Stars, that those were the versions I preferred more. I appreciated how Nintendo stepped up to Sega’s edgier marketing at the time with Nintendo’s “Play it Loud” marketing campaign. Unfortunately, I think their ad for Super Mario World 2: Yoshi’s Island was a bit too extreme for 12-year old Dale at the time. That ad (click here for it if you are feeling daring)was forever planted in my subconscious and always crossed my mind and indirectly caused me to avoid Yoshi’s Island for all these years. I did pick up Super Mario RPG and it is on my “bucket list” of games to play as well. I am holding off on it all these years because I was hanging out with Matt one day, and he explained how he was having a tough time with the final boss, Smithy. Well, he wanted to give me a quick demo to show how unforgiving of a challenge the boss was….but for some reason his clutch gaming skills kicked in right then, and he beat Smithy and was exposed to the ending right then and there!

-As far as other tough SNES games go, the two most challenging for me are easily Contra III: The Alien Wars and Zombie Ate My Neighbors. Contra III is like the first two games on steroids. I love the boss battles and intense walk-n-shoot chaos, but do not love constantly dying in one shot! Zombies Ate My Neighbors is another fun action-platformer that is also equally tough to make it farther than a few levels in unless you seriously dedicate yourself to it. Hey, both of these games also saw re-releases this past year on current consoles with the Contra Anniversary Collection and Zombies Ate My Neighbors & Ghoul Patrol set for those wanting to experience 16-bit nail-biting difficulty (but with save state support!).

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I hope this excellent video review from the quintessential retro video game source, Jeremy Parish, suffices for my lack of any meaningful Super Mario World memories here. -In 1997, I was hyped for a late SNES release, the original Harvest Moon. The farm/life/dating-sim series is still around today from publisher Natsume (as well as the original developers parting ways with Natsume and delivering their own competing Story of Seasons series). During the SNES era, I spent several summers out on a farm. I appreciated rural life's solitude and free spirit lifestyle, and that first Harvest Moon game perfectly encapsulated that. Trying to determine the best way to spend the day tending to the fields, livestock and managing a social/family life was surprisingly fun and engaging! Harvest Moon remain one of two games that I submitted a blurry Polaroid photo to Nintendo Power’s “Arena” high score section. I cannot recall if my score got posted or not.

-The original Sim City port on SNES received a lot of love around the SNES launch window, with Nintendo giving it a unique makeover with bonus Nintendo characters in it and an exclusive tutor in the form of Dr. Wright to ease everyone into the simulation gameplay. I never played too much of that version, but one night at Rich’s, the game we decided to rent that night was Sim City 2000. That one was released way late into the SNES lifecycle and lacked any Nintendo extras the first SNES game had. Still, we stayed up all night playing it and looking at our daily news recap and mayor approval ratings and trying to figure out where to stop underwater pipe blockages! It ran slowwww on the SNES, but we tolerated it fine enough at the time because I had yet to play the PC version. Eventually, I would check out the PC version and came away surprised with so much I had to put up within the SNES game. -For those wanting to dare the Super Famicom scene, there are a plethora of great games that never made their way stateside, and better yet, a hearty chunk of them have received English fan translations. I am partial to the FirePro wrestling games that never made it here that are vastly superior to all the American wrestling games I broke down above, BS Out of Bounds Golf is an addicting take on miniature golf, the original Star Ocean, and the Back to the Future platformer that was not a five-star classic by any means, but blew away the poor NES and Genesis games that did release here. If you are not that familiar with the Super Famicom library, this top 50 list from RVG Fanatic is a great place to start your research and very much helped clueing me into a bunch of Super Famicom games I had little-to-no knowledge of. Conclusion

If you are around my age reading this, you may be wondering why I have not gone on about the fabled ��16-bit Wars” by now. Rest assured, I experienced it in the lunchroom and at recess and in gaming magazines at the time. I devoured all the side-by-side screenshots in gaming mags of dual-platform releases to see if I could spot which version was better. I want to say back then, I sided with the SNES because I grew up with the NES, but that does not seem like a fair choice since I did not own a SNES until 1996. Reflecting on it, although I experienced a fair amount of RPGs and other games on SNES with Rich, I primarily played endless hours of Genesis games with him back at the time. So whenever I hung out with Rich, I considered myself a Genesis fan, and when I finally got a SNES and grew my SNES library, I considered myself a SNES fan and avoided a lot of the “console wars” trash talk. For younger readers here who want to learn more about the fervor of the 16-bit wars, the book, Console Wars, and its corresponding documentary (which is currently only available on Paramount+/CBS All Access sadly) are my recommended ways to absorb all that hoopla. I will cherish all of the past 30 years of SNES memories and hope you have enjoyed reminiscing with me for the last several thousand words. If you want to hear more of my SNES memories in podcast form, I have a few SNES-centric episodes of my old podcast I recently un-vaulted and have embedded below for your pleasure. They have some of the friends I repeatedly mentioned above as co-hosts that share their SNES experiences and memories, so please load up a random SNES “podcast game” and boot one of these podcasts up for fitting background noise….

youtube

10 years ago I did a 20th anniversary SNES special with Matt!

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Here is the history of RPG series episode dedicated to the 16-bit era.

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Finally, here is Matt and I hosting the 16-bit installment of our history of comic book games series. Bonus Overtime

It would not be a Flashback Special without one random oddball bonus story to wrap it up with. The only Kirby game I ever finished receives that honor. One day, my brother and his friend Jake were over at my place. We were discussing SNES games at some point, and Jake mentioned how Kirby Super Star is his all-time favorite. I said how I never played it and did not think anything of it at the time, but the next time I met up with him and my brother, Jake had the copy of that game with him and insisted on borrowing it to me and said not to give it back until I finished it. I felt this sudden obligation to play through it as a priority, so I did not feel like I was keeping his game hostage. Luckily, Kirby Super Star is a damn fun game, which the front of the box labels as “8 Games in One!” Most of the games are abbreviated-length adventures of only a handful of missions in their unique theme of levels, and a few of the games are mini-games like a race against King DeDeDe. Regardless, almost every game provided that trademark Kirby lighthearted fun and was hard to put down! Kirby’s Dream Course is also a lot of fun on SNES, and is an interesting take of Kirby meets miniature golf! With that anecdote, I will wrap up yet another Flashback Special. Thank you for sticking with me this far, and If you dug reading about my trials and tribulations with Nintendo’s 16-bit machine, please take a look at the other Flashbacks I have linked below!

My Other Gaming Flashbacks Dreamcast 20th Anniversary GameBoy 30th Anniversary Genesis 30th Anniversary NES 35th Anniversary PSone 25th Anniversary PS2 20th Anniversary PSP 15th Anniversary and Neo-Geo 30th Anniversary Saturn and Virtual Boy 25th Anniversaries TurboGrafX-16 30th and 32-X 25th Anniversaries Xbox 360 15th Anniversary

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youarejesting · 4 years ago

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The Bomb

[Masterlist]

Beta: @juniethebug Rating: 16+ Pairing: Namjoon x Reader Genre: Mafia, enemies2lovers. Trigger Warnings: mentions of Violence, Gore, Torture, Drinking and wetting yourself in public from fear and a full bladder during a gun fight. Character death. Words: 9.4k

Summary: The leader of a mafia should be calm collected and poised. He should live meticulously and know what he needs to do. Namjoon was that man, he had rules that kept his business running smoothly and nothing can get in the way of that. Can it?

[Part 2]

Kim Namjoon, the leader of the biggest mafia in Seoul, lived his life by many rules. His first rule, a man should only cry three times in his life. The first time is when a man loses his mother, the one who raises a man to be who they are worth mourning.

The second when a man marries the love of his life and he shall weep tears of joy. The third and final time a man is allowed to cry is when he sees his first child born.

Pathetically sobbing against the dirty concrete while getting the life beaten out of you is not one of those three incidences. “I will ask you again, where is the payment I was promised?”

“He gave it to his daughter, used the money he was supposed to pay you, on his daughter; a beautiful emerald necklace. Something about it being her birthday and wanting to gift her with something as pretty as she is.” Yoongi scoffed, spinning the knife around his fingers a habit he had developed to keep his dexterous fingers busy.“Or at least that is what Hobi had to say after tailing the man all day. Just take the necklace from her pretty little neck; she doesn’t have to come with it.”

“The birthday party is tonight, a lavish affair for their daughter, every man, woman, and child from rich backgrounds were invited to the ball held at their Manor.” Jimin sighed, rolling some scotch in his glass.

“Be ready to leave in ten minutes.” Namjoon walked to the door, Jungkook opening it for him. A reminder of rule number fourteen; a powerful man never moves unnecessarily, which includes opening doors and stepping aside from someone.

Pulling on a black on black suit he fastened his Platinum Rolex to his wrist, in his classiest polished pair of dress shoes. Walking towards the front door, he stopped by the front door and Yoongi pulled open the suitcase, graced with the sight of two pistols both with a shiny custom nickel finish with gold filigree on the handle and barrel.

These were gifted to him by Taehyung, a man with an eye for the finest of arts. Just like the weapons he provided he was a beautiful young man with an innocent face. But he was a dangerous man and rule number ten. Never give the man who provides you with your weapons the chance to provide them for anyone else. Of course, naturally, that meant Namjoon hired him in an instant, not willing to let his enemies use his weapons dealer.

The boys were heading to the car; Seokjin was going to drive as he was the most sensible behind the wheel. Each piling in Namjoon looked at his watch and over the five individuals in the car.

“Should I tell Jimin to hurry up?” Taehyung said reaching for his phone, he was in the middle of texting when Namjoon placed his hand on the phone pushing it to his lap.

“No need we leave without him, he knows the rules-”

“Rule number fifteen, a man is never late,” Jungkook nodded; he lived by Namjoon’s word and his rules. Knew them better than Namjoon did himself, wrote them down, and numbered them as the leader taught him each one.

The car door was shut by Seokjin who situated himself into the driver's seat and pulled away from the house. House may be a bit of an understatement even Namjoon thought so, officially titled the Kim Manor with four stories complete with east and west wings, staff quarters, elaborate gardens, and land.

It was the picturesque home with lavish rooms headed to the front gates, a motorbike raced past and pulled up. Jimin climbed into the car with the others, grumbling about how the wind destroyed his hair.

He ran his fingers through his hair trying to return it to its former perfection, once the gates spread open they headed on their way to the party.

Each stepping out at the foot of the manor, fixing their hair and suits one last time before heading up the steps. “Your invitation, sir?”

Yoongi pulled out a gun and tapped it against the clipboard pushing it down so he could read it. “That's us there unchecked, sorry we are late, traffic is horrible at this time of the day,” the man swallowed thickly.

“Of course Mr. and Mrs. Le pomme, you don’t look French?”

“It’s Ms. Actually,” Yoongi poked the man's chest with his gun.

Namjoon turned speaking immaculate French to the young man and patted his shoulder. “Jungkook always learns a language, a man should never miss an opportunity to learn new things.”

Jungkook was writing the new rule down following behind them, Yoongi pushed the gun into his waistband and the group entered the manor. Walking the floor as a small unit they began analyzing the ballroom.

Jimin had disappeared and Jungkook smiled gesturing to the young woman who was mingling a beautiful emerald necklace delicately nestled against her decolletage. Namjoon looked her over. She was stunning with her smooth skin and gentle curls.

She was nothing like he expected, Namjoon thought she would have a dark tan and bleach blonde hair, with extensions and the latest trending nails and jewelry and shoes.

But this woman. This gorgeous woman had pale skin with sun-kissed freckles, her lips were a soft velvety crimson. She wore a simple black dress but somehow managed to still be the most beautiful person in the room. He could gaze at her forever and never get tired.

You smiled feeling proud of your outfit, it was such an elegant and complicated piece, a sweetheart bodice with off the shoulder lace straps it was a thin and long dress that fell to your ankles showing off a pair of thin heels.

It wasn’t a famous brand designer, no, you made this yourself there were many little fun hidden details. You were speaking with your friends when he approached.

He was handsome, his profile was strong one you would remember easily he had a small scar on his eyebrow but it added so much character to his image.

“Ladies,” he greeted the small group with a short bow, his eyes flicking up and meeting yours full of confidence and you gave a small friendly smile back.

“Shall we dance?” He asked, and you, never to be overdone, agreed. You had never been asked to dance before. Especially not by someone this handsome.

“My name is y/n. You?”

“You may call me Namjoon,” he smiled and you blushed, looking at his dimples, he was so charming and cute. But there was something about him he took the lead and guided you through a slow waltz. Something you couldn’t put a nail on. Something… sinister..?

You gasped clutching his bicep gently. He saw the emerald necklace secure around your delicate neck. Your breasts strained against your dress with every breath.

“You seem to be out of breath miss y/n?” His fingertips brushing gently across your décolletage. He too was breathing heavily from the physical activity of dancing.

“A testament to your dance skills,” you tried to laugh back.

“Perhaps we should get something to drink,” he took your hand and weaved it so your arm wrapped around his, “we can chat while you relax but I do apologize for being too enthusiastic.”

“No, really, it is okay,” you protested, not wanting to seem too affected honestly it was embarrassing to get tired after one vigorous dance.

“Indulge me,” Namjoon’s raspy voice reverberated so low you could have almost mistaken it for a purr, “I would very much like to steal a few extra moments with you”

“Well then, I shan’t protest,” you gestured towards the refreshment table where he handed you a champagne flute. The two of you drank slowly his eyes locked on yours.

“Sir,” a voice called politely, you were both pulled from your intense eye contact to see Your father flanked by two young and very handsome men.

“Thank you for inviting me to your party tonight, sir.” Namjoon shook his hand firmly, his voice made you shiver, it wasn’t as light as it had been before, there was something clipped in his tone. Your former suspicions returned to you. Hard.

“Ah, Mr. Kim, I am glad you could make it, I didn’t think you would come to such a small affair?” Your father smiled, he was sweating a sign he was nervous but trying to hold his cool.

“Dad is everything okay?” You took your father's pocket-handkerchief and dabbed his forehead.

“Darling I would like for you to get some pictures with your mother. It is your birthday after all,” you looked at him curiously and almost yielded to his request when a firm hand caught your wrist.

“Just a moment I would like to give you your birthday gift,” Namjoon smiled reaching into his pocket, his next statement seemed to cause the young man beside your father to scribble in a notebook. “A man must never come to a party empty-handed, especially not a birthday party.”

“Oh it’s okay, I don’t usually get presents anyway,” you were flustered by the prospect you always requested not to get presents to spare people the trouble of spending their money on material things.

“That is a shame a pretty young lady like yourself should be spoiled daily,” a hot flush pinked your skin and it crept up your neck.

He handed you a box wrapped in a small ribbon. She opened it to reveal an emerald bracelet just like the necklace she wore and he helped secure it to the wrist and smiled.

“Emerald looks brilliant on you?”

Namjoon looked your father directly in the eyes watching the man sweat. Would he sell out his own daughter for his own safety? “Well darling, mister Kim and I are just going to do a quick spot of business”

“Okay,” you nodded, Namjoon looked over his shoulder and made a gesture to Jungkook and Yoongi to keep an eye on you. While following your weasel-like father to his study.

“I know why you are here and I am sorry, I had the money ready to give you but it was my daughter’s birthday and I couldn’t turn up empty-handed,” Your father said “I will get you the money by the end of the week.”

“You will as I will have collateral just in case your daughter will leave with me.” Namjoon threatened before adding an afterthought “tonight”.

“Please don’t hurt her, I will get you the money, I promise. Please.” He pleaded, dropping onto his knees. Namjoon felt his eye twitch in disgust.

“You will give me the money, otherwise you will never see your daughter again.”

You were feeling kind of awkward, the two young men accompanying you weren’t awful company, they just weren’t very talkative.

“So you work with Namjoon?” you asked

“Mmm…” one so graciously grunted in response

“What do you do?” you swayed from foot to foot trying to strike up some sort of conversation.

“Mister Kim is an entrepreneur,” The taller man said excitedly. You nodded; he very obviously liked his boss.

“You seem to enjoy working for him then,” You asked happily and the two nodded going back to standing around.

“Ah, you must be the birthday girl?” A sweet voice called your attention, “Wah, You are so beautiful miss y/n?”

“Have we met?” Already knowing you hadn’t met any of these men they were way too handsome for you to just forget. He had long legs accentuated by his high waisted trousers, his feet moved one in front of the other with all the grace and caution like a model in a field of landmines. He scooped your hand into his grasp and kissed your knuckle’s eyes searching your person and the room. “Park Jimin.”

Beside him was a taller young man who was boyish with big rounded ears that added so much youth to his face. “I do not believe we have ma’am and that is a shame” He also kissed your knuckles politely and threw you a grin. “Kim Taehyung at your service.”

“Tell me, miss Y/n. Do you like Painting?” Taehyung asked with a grin and you nodded

“Though I am not good at it, yes.” You sighed while playing with your lace sleeve, you were currently surrounded by these very tall and intimidating men. “Do you like painting?”

“I enjoy it greatly my dear, would you be interested in painting with me?” He smiled brightly and you grinned feeling more relaxed.

“I would love to,” you grinned and they all got a text to their apple watches that they read and quickly dismissed from view.

“Miss y/n, we would like to hold a toast,” Jimin grinned, handing you a champagne flute. You nodded and Jimin led a toast celebrating your birthday, ending his short speech with. “You have to all drink it in one shot for the best of wishes for the birthday girl”

You drank heartedly watching them all drink as well, the conversation continued and you were happily chatting about all different things when you started to feel rather drowsy. “I think I drank too much.” You giggled, feeling tired, a warm coat was draped over your shoulders it was super roomy and you felt yourself drift off.

There were strange sounds and lights passing over you periodically, though it stirred you it wasn’t enough to wake you fully. Only when your body had fought the immense fatigue did you wake.

Everything was stale, the air, the room, life, for a moment you didn’t move. Your body was heavy and your head clouded. Taking a deep breath you sat up the lush blankets in their covers making noise against the soft satin sheet.

The room wasn’t yours, the furniture was all a dark almost black lacquered wood, the bedding was also all black. It was a dark room with thick heavy curtains.

Swinging your legs over the side of the bed you gripped the fourposter frame and stood upright nursing a slight ache behind your temples.

The floor was a white marble, searingly cold against your feet. You looked down at the sweet emerald négligée, your jewellery was placed on the bedside table.

Where you saw a glass of water, taking the glass you took a few sips quenching your thirst and pushing the bile rising in your throat back down.

Crossing the room, trying to find a bathroom you opened the first set of double doors and found a walk-in wardrobe. There were many suits inside and a door caught your eye, perhaps it led to the bathroom.

Opening the door you saw for the first time in your life real guns and weapons on display, wherever you are it mustn’t be safe. You picked up a small handgun like the ones you had seen in movies.

You moved on to the bathroom, your bladder was urgently requesting relief.

Opening the next doors you came across a bathroom like no other. It was all the same white marble, the feature was a round shower located in the middle of the room. With two curved sliding doors one on either side of the shower.

Between curved glass panels were stone pillars one which had been carved into as to create shelves with built-in product dispensers.

You saw a control panel on the outside of the shower and you wondered where the water came from but looking up at the hanging gold shower head that was almost as wide as the shower.

You could imagine how it would feel, like warm rain falling against your skin. On your right as you stepped in was a beautiful counter with his and her basins in front of a finely detailed gold framed mirror.

On the opposite wall to your left were shelves of fresh towels and a few cabinets and a seated area with a lady might do her makeup

Walking around the shower along the walls of towels you saw the toilet the door was made of frosted glass and you at this point didn’t care if you were quick you wouldn’t be seen.

You flushed and paused waiting for any signs of people coming to get you but you heard nothing.

You stepped out and circled the shower the back wall had a brilliant window and four short steps to a lifted square seating area with a cushioned window seat that lined the three of the square walls.

There was a small coffee table in the middle and continuing on the last corner of the room just between the sitting areas and the counter was a square bath fit for perhaps four people.

“Shit, where is she?” The sound made your pulse skyrocket, you needed to hide. You stood behind one of the big thick pillars on the outside of the shower. Hoping they would glance over the room.

You froze the gun behind your back and you waited. “Is she in here?” A voice said, “doesn’t look like it,” another said

“Where is she?” A raspy voice spoke.

“We don’t know, sir, Yoongi was posted outside and swears she didn’t leave so she has to be in here.”

“Y/n?” He called, “are you okay, you are a guest here I promise.”

You snorted, “that’s funny, I don’t remember being invited.”

“You don’t remember what happened last night do you?” He asked and you saw movement in the mirror. You grabbed the shower door and opened it stepping inside and pressing your back against a pillar.

The problem was opening one door opened both, you used your free hand to reach beside you and slowly close the glass door.

He smirked, grabbing the opposite glass door with his hand, stopping it from closing and pulling the door back open. “You won’t shoot me, baby, you are too gentle, hand it over and we can talk.”

You took a few heavy breaths psyching yourself up before pulling the trigger. Eyes squeezed shut only to hear a click, “shit!”

“You got some guts, I will give you that. I am proud, the weak don’t survive” He grinned, reaching outside the shower to the control panel and grinned “but you didn’t put a magazine in your gun, I could show you how?”

He pressed a button and cold water poured down, jolting you awake. You tried to avoid the water but you were soaked, he stepped inside and shut the door with his men standing guard either side.

“When you shoot a gun don’t close your eyes, baby otherwise how will you aim?” His chest pressed against yours and he grinned, taking your hand. “Now let’s get you dressed, and we can have a late breakfast.”

You struggled to pull your hand free, “why am I here?”

“Because your father borrowed five hundred thousand dollars from me and didn’t pay it back in time,” he gently tucked your wet hair behind your ear frowning at how it stuck to your neck, how the small négligée clung to your skin and how your body reacted to the cold. “So I took you as collateral for my money. How very gentlemanly of you.”

He took the gun from your hand and grinned, “you are spirited and I like that, but do not worry my only intentions are my money no harm will come to you, you are actually really interesting I would like to get to know you more.”

“Come let’s have breakfast baby,” he said over his shoulder

You followed him obediently your goal was to play your way out, cooperation until they let their guard down. Stepping out of the Taehyung standing there with a grin, and he held up a bag, “Hoseok and I bought you clothes?”

You nodded while taking the bag pondering a recurring thought, “who changed me last night?”

“I did, love but do not fret, I am a doctor and I assure you I did nothing inappropriate, while you were asleep. I would never, it’s too much work?” the short black-haired man spoke twirling a knife around his fingers.

“Seriously, I don’t think Yoongi is human, we have taken him to so many brothels and he doesn’t get turned on at all,” you made eye contact with Yoongi who looked away causing you to crease your eyebrows.

“I respect women and their professions?” Yoongi sighed, and you nodded thoughtfully walking into the bathroom and staring in the mirror. Eventually getting out of the wet garment and into a beautiful sundress.

Processing your thoughts meticulously. He said you were here until your father paid his debt. He said he wouldn’t harm you. You had many unanswered questions but you felt a little reassured by these factors. You were still scared out of your wits but

When you stepped out of the bathroom fully dressed you felt much better. The room was empty except Yoongi and you sighed looking at him. “I really didn’t do anything.”

“I believe you, do not stress,” you patted his shoulder and with a deep breath in, you puffed up your chest, square your shoulders, and strode forward to the door with a firm nod. Yoongi navigated you through the halls behind you trying to keep up but you didn’t slow down.

“Through to the end room two double doors,” he panted as you lost him down the hall, throwing the doors open, guns were drawn and all your new found confidence dwindled.

“Ah, my apologies we usually knock.” Namjoon smiled holding his hands out to his men to stand down, “it’s polite.”

“Is kidnapping me polite?” You scoffed stomping towards him. “You said I am here till my father pays his debt and then I am free to leave correct?”

“Yes, that is—”

“So am I a prisoner?”

“You are a guest,” he said.

“So I can leave?”

“No.”

“Do you happen to know the definition of prisoner?”

“I believe you are referring to the noun of a person captured and kept confined by an enemy or criminal” he sighed “listen would you like to see a real prisoner? I can guarantee you are treated better than some of our other guests in this house”

Taken back by his words you looked away and sighed slumping into the empty seat at the other end of the table “who are you really?”

“I am Kim Namjoon, also known as RM,” he looked down the table at you. You were silent while eating, pondering this information biding your time before you could ask some more.

“Now for business?” Namjoon gestured for his men to start talking.

“Uh about mister Lee, I have successfully um… spoken?” The word came out as more of a question as Seokjin side-eyed you, “with him and he told me where we can find the um...”

“Hey, whatever it is you can say it, I’m not going to be scared by mere words.” You scoffed, stabbing a piece of cantaloupe. Namjoon nodded, approving Seokjin to talk freely.

“I interrogated him and we found the children he was trafficking returned them to their families,” Seokjin said “He is seriously sick in the head”

“You are sure he has told you everything?” Namjoon ate his eggs and toast watching them over his cup of coffee.

“I think so but to make sure I might cut off his remaining fingers and see what he has to say,” Seokjin nodded, “if he says no more well then I guess he is finished.”

“Hoseok what do you know?” Namjoon prompted the next man to speak.

“I know that Mr. y/l/n is accumulating stocks and seems to be on the way to paying his debt,” Hoseok said, your head snapped to him at the mention of your father and he cleared his throat with an awkward twitch of his head. “In other news, there is a young man named David from America is here to discuss a transaction on weapons”

“Anything else?” Namjoon pressed on, studying the man's reactions.

“A few minor gossip aspects from last nights party” you blinked turning to Hoseok who continued, “nothing serious but I will file it away for possible use in the future”

“I took out Mr Roth last night at the party.” Jimin threw the paper down and Namjoon picked it up. “Easily fooled as always.”

“Was there any complications?” Namjoon asked placing the paper down on the table and you walked around picking it up standing beside Namjoon as you read the information on the front page.

Mob Merrymaking

On the evening of the 13th of July, Y/N was celebrating her 21st Birthday. The night was full of dancing, gifts and esteemed guests. The night which was intended to be a beautiful celebration turned sour when a Local Gang drugged and abducted the young woman. Mr Roth a nobleman of 45 had been found in the bathroom, his death was determined as substance abuse.

Mr. L/n stated “She will be fine wherever she is, she is a smart girl and too pure to get herself hurt” He further implied “...I also have no ill will towards any gangs that would warrant my daughter being taken or our family getting hurt. She is a beautiful woman and I think he must have taken a liking to her which leaves me to believe he won’t hurt her.”

Kim Industries which deals with Construction, real estate, property investments, restaurants bars and even Casinos are implied to be the gang in question. Kim Namjoon, as the owner of Kim Industries, was happy to oblige to the police investigation allowing his home to be thoroughly searched by police for the missing young woman. The residence came up empty of any incriminating evidence.

Where did the young woman go? Who is she with? If you have any information contact the police.

You were told to wait in the house while they all went to meet this American man named David, you refused saying if they left you alone you would either run away or set the place on fire.

Namjoon grabbed you by the upper arm, “You are a young lady, start acting like one, we have treated you well and you have done nothing but act like a spoilt child.”

You had never been reprimanded so directly and harshly before, you were somewhat sheltered and sensitive to anger. You turned your head away from him as a few tears slipped.

“Sir, would you like me to stay behind with her?” Jungkook asked, watching his leader take out a pocket-handkerchief and take the young woman's chin firmly between his thumb and crooked finger tilting it up.

“She will come along, she must learn the severity of one's actions and the business we dabble in, to know the true weight of her actions,” He sighed, wiping your eyes. “Always carry a handkerchief Jungkook, women cry.”

“Of course! This way Miss,” Jungkook smiled softly, taking out his notebook to write the newest rule as he walked, “Namjoon is never late for a meeting.”

Escorted to the car as they all checked their weapons discussing their plan of attack, the trip took longer than you expected and at least an hour and a half had passed. The large juice you had at breakfast was making itself known.

“Uh, I have to pee?” You whispered to Yoongi who frowned patting your knee in consolidation.

“Namjoon doesn’t stop for anyone,” he sighed, “You will have to hold it,”

“What is it?” Namjoon commanded, not liking the whispering you were doing with his doctor.

“Y/n said she has to pee,” Yoongi said, “and I told her she will have to hold it.”

Namjoon nodded unphased “You should have gone before we left. Always pee before leaving the house.”

“I am not a child,” You hissed “I know when I need to pee and when I don’t, I wasn’t told the duration of this trip, to know whether I should go to the bathroom, and if I remember correctly I was ushered to the car before I had a chance to question it.”

“Keep your emotions out of your argument, you really are starting to sound like a child,” Namjoon said turning back to the conversation, there was nothing you could do.

The car pulled up, at a small furniture store, the men walked in lead by Namjoon and you were to stay outside with Yoongi and Seokjin.

It was supposed to be a peaceful meeting, but you really had to go to the toilet. The two men were leaning on the back of the car, Yoongi smoking slowly and Seokjin complaining that it was bad for his looks to be near smoke.

“Then fuck off,” Yoongi growled blowing large wisps of smoke purposefully at the other. The two bickered like a father of three and his bratty child.

You really needed to go, to the point that you were eyeing a couple of bushes and hedges in the area. You, a high-class lady were contemplating urinating in public, that’s how serious this was.

You looked at the two bickering again, Yoongi smirked, blowing more smoke at Seokjin who started coughing open-mouthed at Yoongi not bothering to cover his mouth.

“You're nasty!” Yoongi grumbled, you rolled your eyes and snuck into the shop, there had to be an employee bathroom.

You found a door but when you opened it you were met with men and guns, you immediately froze, all the muscles in your body tensing up.“Darling come here,” Namjoon said, gesturing you over to his side, and slipping you under his arm. “What are you doing here? I told you to wait by the car?”

“I have to pee,” you whimpered.

“Calm your expression,” he held your cheek and brought your eyes to his, “by my side, you don’t need to be scared, no one can hurt you?”

“That’s right darling we are just having a discussion, do you want to wait outside again we don’t want anything to happen to a pretty girl like you?”

You don’t know who said what but shots we fired and Namjoon pushed you across the room behind some big cabinets. When your back hit the tall boy you felt your bladder relax and you looked down warmth spreading down the inseams of your jeans.

You were shaking in fear as the shots rang around the room, some hitting the furniture near where you hid. But worse than all that you were embarrassed and shocked never in your teen and adult life had you ever wet yourself.

You stood sobbing, standing in a puddle of your own liquids. You took off your sneakers throwing them aside and you looked at your clothes.

“Namjoon, we can’t find Miss Y/n?” Seokjin shouted ducking bullets, and brandishing his own gun. The distraction allowed their enemy to escape.

“She is here you idiots, I asked you to do one job and you couldn’t even do that?” Namjoon said “Jimin, good shooting, David won’t make it home”

“That’s my job,” Jimin said proudly and you had to pluck up the courage to talk to them, but it was easier to hide climbing into a cupboard.

“Miss Y/n, are you hurt?” Yoongi asked “huh?”

“What is it?” Namjoon said

“Oh no darling, I am so sorry?” Yoongi’s voice was solemn.

“If she is dead I am killing you both,” Namjoon growled his boots hitting the cement as he stomped over.

“Stay there,” Yoongi said with authority, the footsteps stopped “Jimin take off your pants?”

“What why?” Jimin asked confused as to why the conversation shifted to him and his trousers.

“Just do it?” Yoongi growled snapping his fingers.

“None of you will step foot over here until I say so, if you do I will happily sedate you all and turn you into eunuchs, and that includes you Namjoon.”

“I am your leader?”

“And I am your elder, go wait outside, all of you?” They all stepped outside and Yoongi sighed walking to the cupboard holding Jimin’s trousers.

“Come here darling,” he said, taking your hand and guiding you to the bathroom he told you to strip everything off except your bra. you sobbed. “Don’t worry I got more enjoyment out of seeing Jimin undress than redressing you last night, if you understand what I am saying.”

You realized and wiped your eyes, he pushed you to sit on the bench and he washed your legs in the sink and asked you to wash everything else yourself.

You felt better, he apologized for not having any underwear for you and you slipped on Jimin's pants and fastened the belt. The last thing you would need is to expose everything and Yoongi gave you his undershirt.

He walked you out and Namjoon looked relieved when he saw you emerge. “Are you okay?”

“No I am horrified, I was in the middle of a shoot out and I quite literally pissed myself,” you shouted. Your eyes stung from the crying you had done, “Never in my coherent life have I disgraced myself like that.”

“I apologize,” he said, holding his shoulder you saw blood seeping through his fingers, you immediately felt bad for yelling and making it about you when he was in pain.

Jimin stood in just his boxer briefs. “I have nothing against the no-pants but can we go home?”

The only rational thing to do after the incident at the furniture store and warehouse was to seclude yourself in your room away from everyone else. Namjoon often visited and brought you your meals talking to you about things with no real substance. Mostly about his loathing of check ups, it seemed he was hiding in your room from Yoongi.

This happened for a number of days until Hoseok got bored, he wanted to gossip with you and Taehyung came along with paints in hand. His excuse was that you had promised him you two could paint together.

Forcibly removed from your one-person pity party you sat outside painting and chatting about random topics.

Hoseok wanted to know if you had any suitors and who they were, he asked what type of guy you liked and you hummed.

“Someone kind and generous who gives back to others” you gushed about your tall dark and handsome and they laughed.

That night Namjoon knocked on your door and requested you come down for dinner, you agreed much to his surprise. He stammered obviously not expecting you to consent to his plan for dinner, he nodded curtly and walked off down the hall. Tripping in his haste on a small lump in the hall carpet and catching himself on the wall.

Wearing a pretty emerald green halter dress the skirts swished as you walked and your modest heels clicked on the timber. You heard hushed talking and slowed down, being so confined the past few days you were almost starved for conversation.

“He is having dinner tonight, they will all be in the dining hall which will leave his office free, once I get the information I will get out of here before they find out.” The man had a weird moustache and a mole above his eyebrow.

You tiptoed past holding your skirts from ruffling and keeping your heels from clicking you headed downstairs.

Pushing open the doors a multitude of guns were pointed at you, “Miss Y/n I was told you were from a moderately high-class family you should know how to knock.”

You raced over to Namjoon and cupped your hand around your mouth leaning down. “I heard someone talking about breaking into your office, to steal information”

“Jimin” Namjoon beckoned him over, he whispered to Jimin who nodded and went out the back door.

“Where is he going?” You asked and Namjoon stood up and walked you to the other end of the table and you frowned, “I don’t like this?”

“Sit relax, it is time for us to enjoy dinner.”

You sat for the briefest of moments watching Namjoon cross the room and sit at the opposite end of the table before taking your chair and dragging it across the floor slowly.

You saw his eyebrow twitch as you did so and stopped beside him. “I would prefer not to shout across the table,” you smiled softly

“You are both a blessing and a curse,” Namjoon said, “dinner is now a minute late”

Dinner was unlike anything you had ever had before, you smiled and ate happily, “this is delicious”

“You should try the steak?” Namjoon smiled, you nodded, cutting some of your chicken and stabbed it with a fork.

“Alright, I will try some of your steak if you try some of this chicken?” You held it out to him and his eyes were wide “it’s a fair trade”

He leaned forward and ate the small piece off your fork and he cut you a piece of steak and held it out to you.

You leaned forward and took a bite chewing slowly, your eyes going wide. “That is delicious”

Namjoon leaned over wiping your chin with a napkin his thumb, your eyes were locked in a fierce gaze and he gave you a dimpled smile.

“Jin, try some of my chicken?” Taehyung asked, holding out his fork.

“No, thank you?” Seokjin said, continuing to eat his steak ignoring the pouting young man.

“But they shared?” He whined. This made you aware of how intimate your action was, your cheeks flushing dark at your forwardness.

After dinner you were being escorted back to your room. Namjoon was quiet the whole time, not for lack of trying. The amount of times you saw him open and close his mouth, as if he was trying to strike up something to say.

Standing at your door he paused looking at you searching for something, you laughed opening the door, “Would you like to come in for a drink?”

He seemed grateful for the excuse to stay in your company, after a drink of two you started talking about your most embarrassing stories. He was actually super clumsy for someone in the mafia and a complete goofball.

“And that was my first kiss, I haven’t really had many kisses after that and the few I can remember were just as bad” Your laughter was cut off by Namjoon who had leaned over on the small couch and pressed his lips to yours. Just as you felt your heart flutter he pulled away.

“It is getting late you should sleep” He stood up and placed down the glass, you walked him to the door and he froze. “Was that okay? I hope I didn’t overstep any boundaries, did I?”

“No it was nice really nice, you can do that-” He pressed his lips to yours once more and smiled whispering good night before walking off down the hall. With a sigh you added “Anytime you like.”

You didn’t hear anything strange from anyone or see anyone but you hoped everything worked out and the man who wanted to steal information ran away.

You were trying to find Namjoon the next day and travelled downstairs looking in random doors.

You reached the end of the hallway and found a door you heard screaming and knocked hesitantly on the wood, Yoongi stepped out covered in blood and gun in hand.

“Oh, y/n now isn’t a good time?” Yoongi said, stepping out and shutting the door. “What are you doing down here?”

“I was looking for Namjoon, is everything okay? What are you doing?” You asked, concerned by the amount of blood on Yoongi’s clothes.

“We are okay, Seokjin and I are just interrogating the mole, hey good spotting by the way no one knew they had snuck in,” your stomach dropped, this blood was from that man and it was all because of you.

“Namjoon is in his office on the third floor from the ground west wing double doors on the left-right at the end of the corridor.”

You nodded, froze in place and Yoongi sighed “I have to go back in,” he went to pat your shoulder but saw his stained gloves and sighed ripping them off.

He turned punching in numbers into the code lock. 7276. He slipped inside and you heard screaming, which was silenced immediately as the door sealed shut, you quickly ran feeling sick.

Racing up the stairs and bumping into Jungkook and almost falling, thankfully he caught you, “hey hey, slow down what’s wrong?”

You were wide-eyed and scared and he frowned. “Did you go downstairs?”

You nodded and he led you down the hall, “you are scared and helpless, but the way to feel better is to get stronger. You won’t feel as scared if you're not so helpless.” Jungkook opened the doors to the gym.

“Let me teach you how to fight,” Jungkook began teaching the basics and at another point, Jimin entered the two gave you pointers, their fighting styles. Jungkook was all power and strength and Jimin’s was survival.

“Look all you got to know is how to break free so you can run away,” Jimin instructed. “Even someone like Yoongi can break out of Jungkook's grasp.”

“That was one time and he refused to give me a rematch,” Jungkook wined.

You were learning so much, and it was in a sense a little empowering. The two guys were good at what they did and the more you learnt the more you wanted to learn.

Learning to fight gave you something to take your mind off what you had seen at least for the first two weeks but when you heard them relay information at breakfast you felt sick once more.

“He refuses to speak,” Seokjin said

“He will eventually,” Namjoon didn’t bat an eyelash. Two weeks of torture because you outed him.

This was all your fault. He was suffering because of you. You left the dining hall unable to stomach the thought of food.

Heading down the stairs you opened the door with the code 7276, you almost vomited, he sat there unrestrained and unconscious. His fingernails were removed and his face broken beyond repair.

“Hello, sir are you alive?” You asked, he groaned struggling to move his head, coughing up some blood at the effort it took to move.

“Who are you?”

“I am no one sir,” you breathed, “I can help you.”

He lunged hands gripping your throat and you fell back under the weight of him, you were struggling against him in panic. “Die you bitch, I know who you are, you're that monster's whore. He has never tried to protect anyone in his life and yet his soft spot is you. They are coming to kill you all.”

You struggled less hearing Jimin’s words in your head, “don’t panic” his voice would smooth as he held you in this position. “You want to panic but relax and fight back”

You did what he said, “your legs are your strongest so kick them in the chest” Jungkook would coach from the side, following their instructions you kicked the man off and ducked out the door pulling it closed.

You were gasping and you ran up the stairs and into the dining hall gasping. Namjoon flew to his seat and scooped you up, sitting you on the side of the table.

“Yoongi.” He commanded, he gently brushed his fingers over your neck, he looked upset, angry and sad all at once. The emotions were so strong it shocked you. Grabbing his gun, you pressed it into Namjoon's hands.

“Kill him,” You wheezed, “slowly.”

“You went back down there didn’t you?” Jungkook sighed and before Yoongi could stop him Namjoon cocked the gun and stormed off. Seokjin followed after him and they all watched you trying to help.

“Your throat will sting for a few days try not to talk it will help it heal,” Yoongi sighed

“You just don’t want to hear me talk,” you joked, wincing at the pain. “Got it, no talking.”

Namjoon threw the man into the dining hall and dragged him by his hair across the floor, “the lady has requested you die and slowly.”

Namjoon shot him six times in both legs, one in each foot, calf and thigh, the blood was pooling everywhere. You felt queasy, you wanted this but you weren’t sure you could stomach it.

“If you can make it back to your people with these wounds I will let you go?” Namjoon put his gun away and the man tried to crawl away, losing strength as he streaked blood across the ground.

The man was making horrible noises and you didn’t like it, covering your ears and Yoongi warned Namjoon who shot the mole in the back of the head as he reached for the door handle.

Again the only thing you deemed appropriate after witnessing that sort of horrific event was to seclude yourself in your room. Yoongi visited bringing you soups to soothe your sore throat and his persistence and gentle nature was the only thing that got you to drink some of it.

You laid there alone when it started to rain. You loved the rain, but what surprised you was your new fear of the thunder rumbling in the distance sinister as if it was coming after you.

You had never been afraid of storms you used to stand out on the patio undercover with your father and watch the lights flash and feel the electricity in the air. But now each flash had shadows in your window and was accompanied by gunshots that shook the ground.

You were a whimpering mess and you wanted to get out, you ran from your room and raced down the stairs and out the front door. You were in the rain running down the long estate driveway and you expected to be followed by Namjoons henchmen and dragged back and punished for what you didn’t expect was for Namjoon to be running after you.

He grabbed you and pulled you to his chest hugging you gently and he started to sing in your ear, his voice was low and soothing. You found yourself easing into his chest and your erratic sobbing calmed some.

Forever Rain, Forever Rain, Forever Rain, Forever Rain, Forever Rain,

He repeated this phrase slowly singing into your ear holding you desperately and before you knew it, you passed out in his arms.

Namjoon was sweet, you woke up beside him, you were dressed in a button-up and nothing more and he was in his trousers that looked damp, he was sleeping above the blankets holding your hand as if he hadn’t intended to fall asleep beside you but to watch over you.

You brushed his hair off of his face and covered him with a blanket before heading to his closet, taking out some sweatpants and a plain white shirt. He stirred awake when you emerged from the walk-in closet.

“Good morning,” You said softly

“You haven’t obtained any of my weapons while I was sleeping have you?” He asked, making you laugh behind your hand.

“No, someone hasn’t taught me how to use a gun properly, something about a magazine?” you said, trying to play coy. Namjoon laughed getting out of bed and taking your hand, dragging you into the closet and he began explaining all about guns and you listened he had all these amazing facts from when they were made to how they were made and how they fired and how far.

He demonstrated how to put ammunition into the magazine and the magazine into the gun. He taught you how to take the safety on and off and how to hold the gun being new so as not to accidentally shoot anyone.

He led you to the balcony and smiled telling you to hold the gun and he corrected your stance and hold and he told you to aim at a tree and you did.

“Now shoot?” He smiled encouragingly. You turned to him shocked, starting to protest that you weren’t ready.

“You are just scared I promise nothing will happen?” He smiled talking you through it all again.

He didn’t rush you and he didn’t laugh, he spoke the whole time about what you would like for breakfast. You fired a shot and bumped into Namjoon, he chuckled, “that was a good start. Did you close your eyes? Try again.”

It took a few goes and the boys busting in the room before you were comfortable with the weapon. Each had pointers and you felt empowered once more.

“I can make you a pretty handgun,” Taehyung smiled and the group went to breakfast.

“We have a meeting today, so dress pretty, it’s a good meeting, nothing scary, I think you will like it.” Namjoon smiled, making you nod and run off to get dressed.

“Something Christmassy!” Taehyung shouted.

This wasn’t what you expected when you heard mafia, usually you would think things like guns and drugs and women and violence and sure some of those things were true.

But giving Christmas presents to an orphanage full of children wasn’t what you had in mind. You took a present and handed it out, “are you mister Kim’s wife now?”

You giggled at the children’s naive question and began thinking about what it would be like if you really were Namjoon’s wife.

“Well, he hasn’t asked me so, no,” you laughed with the children some of the teens heard and began teasing Namjoon.

“Why haven’t you asked her yet she is so pretty?” They said, “I would ask her.”

“Namjoon is shy, underneath the suit he is just a boy with dimples” Jimin teased earning a wad of wrapping paper at his head from the man in question. You had stepped outside into the snow watching it fall around you, Namjoon was eyeing you through the small glass window.

Excusing himself Namjoon left the children and headed out into the snowy garden, he shrugged off his jacket as he approached and slipped it over your shoulders. Clearing his throat “you shouldn’t be out here, you might catch a cold”

“Not with you here” You elbowed him playfully, he chuckled allowing you to lean against him, he didn’t tell you he was cold but dutifully stood there and kept you company.

“Thank you so much,” The woman said, as you all stepped out the front door, the boys all headed to the car and you were left beside Namjoon who had left his arm around your waist leading you to the car. “For the presents and the donation, the children and I truly appreciate it.”

“Y/n?” Namjoon said as you walked into the dining room to find it empty, the food was set and there were candles. “I wanted to speak with you privately.”

“Okay, what did you want to talk about?” You asked curiously, what was so important that his men whom he confided everything in were not present.

“Since I met you, I have broken so many of my rules, I have been late, I have forgotten what I have wanted to say, I have spoken without purpose, I have even broken the rule to keep speeches short and sweet.” He laughed rubbing the back of the neck. “I have enjoyed your company greatly and you have made me a better man because of it. Ever since I met you, I was enraptured by your brains and beauty. You are fiery and sassy and kind and real.”

“Thank you, I haven’t done that much though.” You weren’t being modest, you hadn’t done anything special to warrant his compliments.

“I wanted to ask if you would do me the greatest honour of marrying me?” He said, “I will keep you safe, you will never go hungry or cold, I will cherish you with every fibre of my being.”

“Yes,” You said in shock, you liked him of course, you had for a while now but the fact that he could get anyone and he chose you. That was what shocked you, you weren’t on the same status level. He was very high class and you were scrapping the lower end of high class.

The celebration was to be held at the grand hotel, the hall was booked and looking spectacular you were announcing your engagement. It was a real lavish affair and you were in the most expensive gown you had ever seen, feeling like a million dollars and wearing a million and a half.

It was all real, the shoes, jewelry, hotel, engagement and you couldn’t believe it. “Is this a dream?” the stylist shook her head.

You were trying to wonder where it had all come together; it was little gestures and actions. When the two of you met and he was charming and poise when dancing with you. The more you got to know him he was meticulous and sassy and strict, he didn’t miss a chance to correct and reprimand you.

Somewhere along your journey he started to enjoy your company, he became more clumsy, and open to new ideas. He took a chance and started approaching you with his feelings and what blossomed between you was love.

“My lady, if you are ready follow us to take some photos with your fiance on the rooftop.” You were shaken out of your daydream and guided to the elevator headed for the rooftop, the two men were talking into headsets, “Everything is secure” The man said straight-faced, and the other man helped you hold the small train of your dress.

When you stepped out the men guided you across the rooftop and told you to sit in the chair while the cameraman finished setting up. You sat drinking, you only got a short way through it before you fell asleep.

Waking it was dark, you were strapped to the chair and there was something heavy and bulky on your chest. Eyes adjusting to see the glowing numbers on your chest. You started to cry, something was wrong and almost an hour went by before, you heard someone shouting your name.

“Y/N!” it was Jimin.

“Jimin!” You shouted and he raced over to the door but you heard the clanking of chains. You were locked in.

“Wait here, I will get the others and something to get you out.” He was gone before you could tell him.

You heard more voices and Namjoon came over, you had ten minutes written on the digital clock on your chest, the numbers flickering down consistently. “Y/N?” Namjoon said, “Don’t worry, we will get you out?”

“Namjoon,” You cried from the seat, sobs breaking through your words, “There is a bomb.”

“Where is the bomb?” Namjoon said

“It’s here,” Hot tears falling from your eyes stinging, “It’s on me, there is only nine minutes left.”

He swore, “Break this door down now, find another way in?”

They all began struggling and trying their best, but you knew it was useless. Namjoon, go, take everyone and go, there isn’t enough time?”

“No!” Namjoon growled smashing his fists on the door and throwing his shoulder into it, “I will get you out of it.”

“Namjoon, send the boys away don’t get them hurt because of me?” You whispered, “Go!”

“Leave us,” Namjoon said, his voice defeated.

“We won’t leave without you both?” Jungkook said, the timer said three minutes and you wanted to scream at them to go but the sobs took everything out of you.

“A man will follow orders to the letter Jungkook.” Namjoon said, sending the younger man away, “Get out of here.”

“Yeah rule number twenty-two, but what about number thirty-three take a challenge or thirty-nine finish what you start.”

“Jungkook, leave now before I shoot you, your orders are to get everyone out of the building, we will be down soon.”

Jungkook hesitated before running off. You called out to Namjoon begging him to leave but he refused continuing to try to break down the door blinking away the blur in your eyes from the tears you saw the time had only a minute left.

“Namjoon, there is only a minute left, please leave.” You pleaded and you could hear him on the other side of the door.

“I am not leaving you,” He sniffed, voice watery and shaking with the sounds of his sobs. He broke the number one rule.

[Part 2]

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