#take a second dose bc if i wait a minute too late i will start crashing and then it’s all over

[twinknote]

ohhh i love that i waited until today to ask my psych for refills and Of Course they’re out of the office starting today until (checks calendar) tuesday. which is basically a week away. and i have 3 vyvanse left. i love that for me

[littlepadika]

I got my wisdom teeth out and I had a small thought on one of the daddies or papis helping her with her medication and the little wanting sherbet and then saying she has to wait until she’s finished her mashed potatoes. Also him rubbing her face gently and giving her soft kisses.

omgggg proud of u for getting your teef removed. I should but i'm too scared which is ironic bc i wanna be a surgeon but it's not the same🥺 . I just imagine this would be the hardest for Maxie because he always likes to say yes to you but now he has to be a meanie and not give you sweets.

Warnings: DDLG

It started off well. Maxie had all the instructions written down, getting the best oral surgeon in the entire country to do your procedure. He didn't think it would be so hard saying no to your though. Because he sat down with you multiple times before the procedure and explained that you wouldn't get all the treats you wanted. You had agreed but now that you were on pain medicine and fussy...

"Wan' brownie daddy." You ask in the nicest sweetest voice possible. Your cheeks are still numb from earlier today.

"I'm so sorry kitten." Maxie set down the spoon full of mashed potatoes. "Remember we can't have anything like that until your mouth feels better."

"But it does feel bet'r" You insisted opening your mouth and proving it to him.

"That's from the medicine daddy has been giving you." Maxie tried to explain, rubbing your cheek gently. Any other day he would have already given it to you. He knew he spoiled you too much.

"But why?" You tear up. All you wanted was your after dinner treat. You were a good girl all day and even got the scary procedure and now you couldn't even have a treat.

"Because it will hurt your mouth more. Daddy wants more than anything in the world for you to have your treat, but he has to do what's best for you. We have chocolate ice cream, sherbert, milkshakes."

"Don' want dat." You sniffled. None of those things sounded as good.

"Come on, why don't we finish dinner and see how we feel then?" Max felt a fight coming on so he tried to compromise.

You shrug and let him spoon feed you. Towards the end your mouth started hurting and feeling hot. You whined pulling his hand up to your cheek.

"Hurtie!" You cried.

"Oh dear. Oh dear." Maxie was so frazzled by how fussy you were. He realized he was ten minutes late giving you the next dose of medicine. "One second. Daddy will get the medicine." He sprinted down the hall to the bathroom cabinet and sprinted back. You had crawled out of your seat and were trying to reach the sweets in the kitchen. "Kitten!"

"I just want somefing!" You cry harder, jumping up in vain trying to reach the locked cupboard. He pulls out the chocolate icecream and places the pill inside a spoonfull.

"Stop that kitten." He pulled you back to the table.

"Daddy hates me!" You thrashed in his arms. Maxie felt his heart break because that couldn't be further from the truth.

"Come on, be good and take your medicine." He orders more harshly. "I don't want to force it down but I will if I have to."

You keep your lips glued shut in protest.

"Please, kitten." Maxie couldn't stay mean for long. "Let daddy take care of you. Let him make you feel better." He massaged your cheeks, making your lips loosen. "I need your help. I can't do this without you." He kissed your tight lips lightly.

You open your mouth reluctantly, eating the bit of ice-cream and trying not to focus too much on the pill.

"Is it all gone?" Maxie asked and you knew to open your mouth and let him see there was no pill. "And under your tongue... good." He rewarded you with another tender kiss, refusing to let you put him in a bad mood.

"I'm sorry I said you hate me." You mumbled, your eyes dry now.

"That was a very mean thing to say." Maxie nodded.

"I didn mean it." You hugged him.

"I know." He returned your affection, his own voice tightening with emotion. "I know you've been so good. It doesn't seem fair, does it?"

"no it doesn't." you shake your head feverently.

"well... your rewards are piling up. Daddy won't forget that you've been so good. Do you want some more chocolate ice cream?"

"Okay..." You agree even though it's not as good as brownies.

"That's my good kitten." Maxie praised, eyes shinning with love down at you. "When you feel better we'll have a brownie party."

"We will?" You smiled.

"Mhm. Daddy will get all different kinds and you can eat as many as you want."

"Yay daddy!" You jumped up and down. "Daddy can I pwease have wainbow terber?"

"Rainbow sherbert?" He grinned at your cute pronunciation. "I thought you wanted chocolate ice cream?"

"I changed my mind, daddy. I wan wainbow sher-sher-"

"Sherbert." He tried to model the right way to say it.

"SHERBIE!"

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

daddies masterlist

Littlespace taglist: @lafresamilk @dobbyjen @mamacitapascal @prettypedros , @marstheplanet @takochansugoi  @oceanablue @iwishtobeastorm @dincrypt @bac-1, @spacenerdpascal, @cranberrypills @punkerthanpascal @breezythesimp  @djarinsimp @mylittlesenaar @bbybunbun @phnyx @xwalltoast @dreadwolfxoxo @xwalltoast @mswarriorbabe80 @bearcina @lokigirlszendaya @pedroslilbitch @star-wars-fan-2005  @din-jarhead @hillgoth @m4ngoj3lly @crabbae @im-a-mcsimp-for-mchotties @girlofchaos @joelsflannel @xoxabs88xox @nicolethered @sergeant-major-ghost @pretty-girl-likes-tea @alexxavicry @harriedandharassed

[rotten-rodentia]

Angry ranting

.

Yesterday I missed a dose of my meds, and I got triggered by seeing one of the ppl involved jn the divorce last year and went spiraling into trying to find info on all of those ppl which just upsets me more

And since I hadn't taken my meds, my brain wouldn't chill for even a second And then I was kept awake bc I was hungry as hell.

Fell asleep at 5 am, woke up at like 9:40. Less than 5 hrs

Filled out a bunch of medical info I need for my endocrinologist, and tried to order my insurance card for another damn hour on the phone with a robot

Got contacted by manager asking if I could clock in extra early for the 3rd time this week, usually I'm like hell yeah extra money but I'm glad I didn't go to work early

Work was so damn busy today that I didn't get to cleaning the lobby until it was almost time to close anyway. Both trashcans were overflowing and there was a huge stack of trays, I started taking out trash so it would STOP overflowing but then right on time to piss me off some customers come in and I HAVE TO HELP THEM CUZ THATS ALSO MY JOB but I had to finish the trash

But if I make them wait, then I suck at my job cuz were fast food and its totally my fault that I'm the only person in charge of cleaning the lobby, 3 bathrooms, serving indoor customers, serving call in and online orders, And serving Doordash which also pisses me off cuz we'll get several Doordasg orders and the drivers like to come in super early and just stand around, or sometimes leave if we take too long. BUDDY THW APP SAYSI HAVE 15 MINUTES TO MAKE THE ORDER, I'M NOT LATE UR FUCKING EARLY. But also sometimes I am late, BC INDOOR CUSTOMERS ARE PRIORITY.

Anyway why the fuck are jobs like this? Why am I doing the work of multiple people just bc my boss wants to keep the percentage of labor under 25%?

They always schedule 1 lobby cashier to serve customers inside/doordash/call in/online orders, and 2 drive through bc drive through is the busiest

Oh and guess who has to stock all the drive through sides too?the ones for easy grabbing in the fridge? FUCKING ME.

Sweeping the lobby and the kitchen, scrubbing off the front line and the display windows, OH AND IM A BACK UP DISHWASHER.

And then my dad can't pick me up and wants me to somehow uber both me and my sister, who is at a completely different location and got off work at a different time.

Oh and apparently that one coworker who goes "Deadname this needs done" when I'm in the middle of doing something she already asks, every single minute she does that, not only is that one of the reasons other coworkers don't like her (the nagging instead of waiting for us to be done with something or even just writing a list), but our coworkers have literally corrected her on my name and she still does it. She's not even a manager either and she just bosses everyone around cuz she was SUPPOSED to train us (which doesn't happen at this establishment btw)

Highlights of my day: I saw a planned parenthood worker which just immediately made me happy, and I told her how much I appreciate them and she said that made her day bc usually when someone notices the planned parenthood logo they think or say bad things about them. Also my uber driver had a van decked out in halloween decorations which was awesome, she's my favorite uber driver now. It felt like riding with family or a friend she was so sweet

[winetae]

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.

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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 :))

.

.

[xmxisxforxmaybe]

15 from the smut prompts with Merriell ❤️❤️ if ya have the time

15. trying to distract the other with sex while they’re “busy”

16. orgasm denial/edging

Another good place to combine ideas! Be warned for some dom!Mer behavior, some name calling, menacing tones, pleasure/pain line blur, but then it goes soft bc I am such a soft bitch at heart. I TRY, I SWEAR.

And since turnabout is fair play, here’s one I wrote about edging him if you get to the end and you’re like, THAT ABSOLUTE SHIT!

* * * * *

When Merriell had decided to build your new house himself, you were thrilled. He assured you he could do just about anything you wanted, and that together, you would make the perfect home.

An interesting thing about Merriell was that he collected favors, not unlike an Italian Don. So when it came time to build, Mer cashed in favor after favor from an array of guys with different talents. So far, he’d gotten returns on favors from the building inspector, the excavator, and now the block man.

And you appreciated every cashed-in favor, every wink thrown in the direction of every cashier or secretary, and every phone call he made to sweet-talk out a deal that would save you money.

You knew that it was all for you.

And you also knew that Sundays, without question, were always to belong to just the two of you—no work, no phone calls, no house talk. Sunday was your day to reconnect, to show each other just how much you missed one another.

Except that today was Sunday, and Merriell hadn’t paid you one iota of attention aside from an acknowledgment that he was sorry he was so busy.

When you glanced up at the clock in the kitchen as Merriell took the fourth phone call of the evening, you dropped the dish you had been washing with a thud. Toweling off your hands and watching as the seconds tick into minutes, you wondered what the hell you could do to get his attention.

A naughty smile played with the edges of your lips as you realized you had everything you needed to get his attention right … under … your … clothes.

You tied your hair up in a messy bun, the fuck-me-bun as Mer called it, and stripped down. Trying to compose your giggles and look sexy, you followed the sound of his voice.  

“Yeah—I’d love to get the order here end a the day tomorra. Yes, sir. Jus’ the cap blocks.”

“Uh huh. I sho do appreciate it.”

“While I got ya on the line, I was wonderin’ if I could persuade ya to—”

Merriell stopped talking and stared as you walked out onto the back porch, completely naked. It wasn’t like you had neighbors under the age of 65, so even if they thought they saw something, it would be quite easy to say they were mistaken.

You smirked and popped a hand onto your hip, idly examining your nails as if you just stood naked on the porch every time Merriell took a phone call.

“Apo--Apologies. Anyway, I was wonderin’ if ya could bump me up to ‘round noon.”

As Merriell listened to the man’s reply, his eyes raked over your body, but underneath the lust, there was a warning.

“Really appreciate dat. And abou’dat price, Nancy, sweet gal in ya office, she said I could save a few bucks unloadin’ the truck maself,” Merriell’s eyes flicked away as he concentrated on his phone call, and you knew you shouldn’t have interrupted. Afterall, it was your money, too.

But you were so needy and today was supposed to be your day, and the end result of having a beautiful home just seemed so inconsequential when Mer was right here in front of you, one hand wrapped around his phone and the other idly twitching on the top of his thigh.

Those fingers, you thought, your body pulling you toward them, pulling you toward straddling Merriell’s thigh, pulling you to sink down onto his hand and to rub your pussy over his thick, strong fingers.

He stuttered again into the phone, but when his eyes shot to your face, there was no warning—warnings were over.

When he got off that phone, you were gonna get it.

His gaze was so severe that you actually faltered in your little game, but as you stood and released his hand, he used it to lock you into place, your pussy pressing harshly against his jeans as he held you down by the hip. His fingers dug into the flesh of your ass and it hurt.

Unsure of what else to do, you crossed your arms and pouted, scowling at him until he finally ended the phone call. Mer bucked you off his thigh and stood quickly, grabbing your wrists to steady you.

“Exactly what the fuck are ya doin?”

You narrowed your eyes and jerked your wrists, intending to march back into the house and give him the silent treatment until neither of you could stand it any longer.

“Oh no. Ya wanted to play? Well, now I’m ready to play.”

His breath was hot in your face and you felt arousal pool between your thighs at his words.

“Such a slut for me ya couldn’t even wait five fuckin’ minutes. Pathetic.”

Your mouth popped open with a slight gasp and Merriell pushed you against the railing. You looked around wildly, feeling very exposed, but he didn’t care. Your ass dug into the wood and Mer pressed his entire body into yours until there was no telling where he ended and you began.

“If I reach between dose thighs a yours, are ya gonna be all wet for me?”

“No,” you said obstinately.

“Dat so?” he said, and as he raised his brow, you were so close to his face that you could see the bleached blonde hairs peppered into the dark brown thanks to the Louisiana sun.

Merriell still held your wrists tightly, but he lowered your arms, bringing them down to your hips and letting you open your palms against the railing for balance. He kept his much larger hands over yours and leaned in, the pressure uncomfortable as your breathing picked up.

“Ma guess is dat ya are a lil slut . . . and a big big liah.” He sucked your bottom lip into his mouth before he pulled back and gave you a searing look, one that made you shiver, and then he leaned forward and kissed you proper, kissed you until you were a panting mess.

When he pulled back, he tucked his lip between his bottom teeth before letting it pop out again.

“Get to the bedroom. Do nothin’ other’n wait for me.”

Your eyes searched his, and despite the command, a slight smile spread across your face—

Mer reached up, lightening quick and grasped your face.

“Nothin’ funny bout botherin’ me when I’m busy. And there’s really gonna be nothin’ funny bout what I’m gonna do to ya tonight.”

The idea of “tonight” made you shiver.  

He didn’t make you wait much longer than it took for him to pour himself a shot, then another, then decide to take the bottle of fireball whiskey with him. When he appeared in the bedroom doorway, he was without a shirt and his jeans barely clung to his narrow hips. He leaned against the frame and raised the half-empty bottle to his mouth to take one more swallow.

You loved the taste of that cinnamon whiskey on his lips and he knew that, so he eyed you as you watched his adam’s apple bob, and as his face pulled into the slightest grimace as he swallowed the fiery drink. He licked his lips and approached, reaching out to the dresser to deposit the bottle on top.

When Mer reached the edge of the bed, he held out his hand and you let him pull you into a sitting position. Your feet found purchase on the edge of the bedframe, allowing your legs to stay parted. He slid between them, one hand sliding around the base of your head and the other across your upper back.

His eyes burned into yours for a moment before he kissed you, lips against lips until you reached out to taste the cinnamon remnants of his whiskey. He opened for you, staying fairly still as you massaged your tongue over and around his, then explore the ridge of his mouth before pulling his upper lip into your mouth and sucking.

But when you reached for him, your fingertips grazing over his torso, he wound his hand in your hair and pulled hard enough to make you gasp.

As you looked up at him, he didn’t speak. He only looked down his nose at you, every fiber of his being in perfect control. He let you have that kiss, you realized too late.

He let you have that kiss, and now, you belonged to him.

“Lie back.”

With your legs still spread, you did as instructed and watched with rapt attention as he popped the button on his jeans. They started to slide down his legs before he even lowered the zipper halfway and when they reached the floor, he stepped out of them, kicking them to the side. His eyes never left your face, watching the hunger grow just as his cock was growing harder without so much as a touch from either of you.

Merriell placed his hands on either side of your mound, his thumbs massaging your pussy without yet dipping between the folds. He could see your arousal, and he smirked, knowing he had been right.

“Mmm,” you moaned, your thighs unconsciously moving closer together to compliment the sweet pressure from Merriell’s fingers.

“Ya like dat?”

“Yes,” you sigh.

Merriell used his thumbs to spread your lips and bent to lap at your core, licking your inner lips and dancing his tongue in and out of your entrance before sliding up to flick your clit. His hands slid over your thighs to push them farther apart and when you looked down at just the top of his curly head as he buried his face in your pussy, your breath hitched and you felt a fresh wave of arousal flood your core.

“Yes, Mer! Fuck yes.”

When he slid a finger into you, you shuddered. When he slid in another, you moaned, low and feral.

Your chest flushed and your breathing an erratic staccato of pants, Merriell continued to work you with his tongue and his fingers. Just as you felt that tell-tale sign of release, that tightening in your lower abdomen that made your breath pause as your orgasm came to the surface, he removed his fingers and stilled his mouth.

He stood up and looked down at you, his lips and chin wet, his curls mussed, his eyes half-lidded and wicked.

Your mouth opened and shut, and your brows lowered as anger swept through you at such a blatant denial of your orgasm. Sure, Merriell had teased you before, stopping to prolong the inevitable with a smirk and a smattering of giggles as you thrashed under him and begged, but this—this was something else.

“S’matter? Think ya deserve to come after interruptin’ me? After lyin’ to me? I warned ya, didn’t I?”

“I thought it was—”

“A joke? Oh no, baby girl. Ya bout to find out how wrong ya were.”

Switching tactics, you relied on what had always worked in the past.

“Please, Mer. I need you so much. I just miss you, you know? I . . . I miss your cock inside of me,” you said as you sat up on your elbows and lowered your eyes, looking like the very picture of innocence.

“Why didn���t ya just say so?” Mer asked with a quirk of his brow as he leaned over you, kissing you as he guided the tip of his cock to your entrance.

You swallowed as much of the kiss as you could, relishing in the taste of the perfect mixture of the cinnamon whiskey and your arousal.

“Dat betta?” Mer asked as he yanked your ass to the edge of the mattress and began to fuck you slowly, only about half of his dick disappearing inside of you with his shallow thrusts.

“Oh, yes. You feel so good, Mer. Fuck me, please.”

Since your eyes were closed as you concentrated on the feeling of him moving inside of you, you missed the sinful grin that flicked across his face and lit up his eyes.

“Mmhmmm,” he echoed, pulling out to run the tip of his slickened cock over your throbbing clit, alternating between rubbing and tapping lightly before he moved back to your entrance and slid in again with the same shallow thrust.

“More,” you begged. “Fuck me harder.”

And at your request, Mer pulled his cock out again and repeated the same motion, teasing your clit, running his length through your lips instead of pushing back into you.

Frustrated, you reached down with your hand and tried to move his cock back inside of you, but Merriell grasped your fingers tightly and said, “I don’t fuckin’ think so.”

Growling, you wriggled your hips and sought to chase more contact, but Merriell just used both of his hands to still them as he slowly slid the tip of his cock back into your entrance only to pop out and tease your clit again.

You felt like every muscle in your body was wound to its maximum, aching for release.

When Merriell slipped back inside of you and resumed his shallow thrusts, he brought one hand back to rub circles over your clit, the swollen bud so desperate for release that it almost hurt to have him touch you. You gritted your teeth through that burn of overstimulation and just when you were entering that phase of sweet release again, Merriell pulled his hand away.

“No!” you cried out, shock and hurt and pleasure swirling over your features as your eyes filled with tears. “Please, Merriell. Oh my god, please let me come.”

“Shhh,” he soothed as he pushed all the way into you, bottoming out and making you moan at finally having all of him inside of you.

You marveled at his self-control as he steadily fucked you, this time, working the inside of your body with the angle of his dick. He pulled your legs up and let them rest on his shoulder as he fucked into you, sweat beading out along his brow as you watched his face, silently begging for this to be it—for this to be the last time he brought you to the edge and denied you.

“Ya feel so good. So wet for me. So tight.”

“So good,” you echoed him, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes at their own volition.

Merriell’s hips stuttered as he saw the results of his edging, and as he watched the tears fall down your temples, his heartbeat quickened and his orgasm took hold of him.

He moved your legs apart again and thrust deeply into you for a few more strokes before he pulled out, your cry strangled from the loss of him as he reached down and stroked his cock, thick spurts of cum shooting up to your chest and landing on your stomach and on your mound.

You watched him come, his mouth twisted into a beautiful oh of ecstasy, his eyes bright and locked on yours as his hand slowed, then stilled. His eyes moved from yours and trailed down your body, observing his mess.

“Mmm . . . gardes don,” Mer said with a slow shake of his head and a smirk. “Ya wanted me. Ya got me.”

With a light smack to your thigh, Merriell moved from between your legs and bent down to grab his jeans. He kept his back turned to you as you sat up on your elbows, your mouth hanging open in disbelief.

The zip of his pants rang in your ears as he walked out of the bedroom door.

You waited, your frustration boiling over as you finally just screamed, “Petit enculé!”

A deep chuckle sounded just outside of the bedroom door and you bolted into an upright position, glaring as Merriell popped back into the bedroom.

“Ya really think I was gonna leave ya like that?”

You grabbed his pillow and wiped his cold cum from off your chest and stomach and scrambled to get out of the bed. Still laughing, Merriell grabbed you and pushed you down, pinning you under his weight.

You struggled against him, glaring as he said through his laughter, “Come on. Ya know ya wanna get off, yeah?”  

You continued to glare.

“And nobody can do that better than me,” Mer said as he started peppering kisses over your face, licking at the salty trails of your dried tears.

“Whaddya say, ma chèrie?” he murmured as he kissed down your neck, his jeans pressing into your clit in a way that instantly reignited the sparks that had been stoked then quelled for well over an hour.

“Please, Mer. Please.”

Without teasing, he moved directly between your thighs, his mouth hot and welcoming as it encased your battered clit. His fingers slipped inside of you, and working in tandem, he brought you to a wide-eyed, open mouthed orgasm that had you seeing stars long after your breathing returned to normal.

* * * * *

Gardes don (pronounced gahd-A daw(n)) is a Cajun idiom that means “look at that”

Petit enculé : there’s a lot to unpack with this one, so if you’re in the mood for a good Google, go for it. Essentially, it’s used here to say little fucker/cocksucker.

ma chèrie: my darling

[littlespoonevan]

Hi! I love your fics so much, they're so cute!!! I was wondering if you could write about Mickey's reaction to Ian's Monica tattoo and/or his black hair in prison? Hope you have a great day!

first of all, thank you :’)) and askdjlhf god i am so wEAK for anything involving their prison reunion!!! this kind of devolved from hair talk to relationship talk in the middle lmao but hopefully you still like it!!

(also just a head’s up: i’m not gonna be accepting anymore prompts at the moment bc i really want to clear out the ones i already have so i can start on my long fic. i hope people don’t mind!!!)

*

Ian had really believed he’d never see Mickey again.Ian had really believed prison would be the end of him. Ian had really believeda lot of things until his cell door had opened and Mickey Milkovich was suddenlystanding in front of him, here to save him from himself one last time.

After the initial reunion – the delicate kiss thathad turned hurried until Mickey reluctantly reminded him the window to theircell wasn’t exactly one-sided – they stay on Mickey’s bunk. To be honest, thisposition is no less compromising than what they’d been doing ten minutes agobut Ian isn’t quite prepared to have Mickey out of his reach just yet. Mickey’shalf-sitting, half-laying down as he sticks to his original spot leaningagainst the pillow while Ian sits slouched with his back against the wall andhis right leg pressed up against Mickey’s.

“The fuck is with all this anyway?” Mickey asks whenthere’s a momentary lull in their conversation, hand reaching up to scrubthrough Ian’s hair.

“Oh.” Ian blushes and ducks his head to stare down athis hands. “Guess I didn’t wanna draw attention to myself.”

Mickey raises his eyebrows and his mouth curves up ina smile and it’s such a familiar look Ian feels like fucking crying. He neverthought he’d see Mickey look like that again.

“You know your eyebrows don’t really match your hair,”Mickey comments then, snickering when Ian hits his leg half-heartedly.

“You got a better idea?” Ian grumbles, leaning hishead back against the wall to meet Mickey’s gaze.

“Yeah, don’t get fuckin’ arrested for blowing up avan.”

Ian winces, feeling shame burn through him, but thenMickey’s reaching out and taking his hand. He runs his thumb over the skin ofIan’s knuckles and Ian watches Mickey watch their hands for a minute.

“What the fuck happened, Ian?” Mickey asks softly,finally raising his gaze to meet Ian’s.

Ian shrugs uncomfortably and squeezes Mickey’s handtight in his own to ground himself. “Stopped taking my meds,” he admits quietly.“No one really noticed until it was too late, I guess.”

“What d’you mean no one noticed?” Mickey asks and helooks pissed but not at Ian, he doesn’t think.

Ian shrugs again. “I guess I seemed okay for the mostpart and people had other shit going on. The whole Gay Jesus thing, it gotoutta control pretty quickly.”

“What about that guy you were seeing?” Mickey askssuddenly and Ian hates the reminder of Trevor, hates that Mickey even had toknow about him.

“He’d never seen me manic before,” Ian says. “Guesshe didn’t know what signs to look for.”

“I didn’tknow what signs to look for,” Mickey snaps – again, he doesn’t direct it at Ianbut more the situation at large. “Fuck, you weren’t even diagnosed back then,there was no fuckin’ medication for you to be taking and I knew something waswrong. I knew-“

Mickey cuts himself off abruptly, huffing out afrustrated breath and Ian squeezes his hand again, tugging on it just a bit toget Mickey to look at him.

“You would’ve known this time too,” Ian murmurs. “Iknow you would’ve. It’s okay, it’s my fault you weren’t there. Not yours.”

Mickey doesn’t argue with him or disagree, just sitsup a little straighter and moves himself closer into Ian’s space. “You feelokay now?”

Ian nods earnestly. “I’m stable,” he promises. “Haven’tmissed a dose since I sorted my shit out.”

“Good,” Mickey replies, low and half-mumbled.

“And for what it’s worth,” Ian continues, leaningforward to bump his forehead against Mickey’s before returning to his originalspot. “Me and Trevor are done. I tried to make myself want him again after-after you. But it didn’t really work. My heart wasn’t in it.”

Mickey looks at him, eyes darting all over Ian’s facelike he’s trying to read him for answers. Ian lets him look, drinks in thesight of Mickey before him and reminds himself this is real.

“We should talk about it,” Mickey says finally, eyesflitting to their hands and back up again. “Just- we can wait a couple ofhours.”

Ian nods and smiles because he gets it. They have amountain of shit to work through, probably as far back as the second timeMickey got out of juvie, if they’re being honest, and he knows being stuck in thesame room for the foreseeable future is the perfect excuse to finally do it.But…they just got each other back. And it seems like Mickey wants to bask inthe reunion just as much as he does.

“How’d you find out about me anyway?” Ian asks becausehe hasn’t yet and while Mickey’s always seemed to have a sixth sense aboutknowing when Ian’s in trouble and always seems to show up at exactly the righttime, this one feels a little beyond the realm of possibility.

Mickey shrugs and this time he’s the one who looksembarrassed. “Some kid in Mexico had a shirt with your face on it. I asked himabout it.”

Ian can’t believe that. Can’t believe Mickey wouldrisk everything – the new life he’d built, his freedom, his safety – just to come back here and bewith Ian. But he supposes he should. Back in the early days all Ian had wantedwas some kind of proof that Mickey loved him, that he wanted to stay. Now- thisis quite possibly the biggest love declaration he could’ve made.

“We can talk about that shit later too,” Mickey saysthen, brushing Ian’s thoughts away with a wave of his hand. “What we reallyneed to discuss now,” he continues, hand snaking up the back of Ian’s neckuntil his fingers are tangled in Ian’s hair, “is what the fuck we’re gonna doabout your hair.”

Ian barks out a laugh. “You miss the red?”

Mickey gives him an exasperated look that’s verypointedly not a denial. “You might have to go back to your buzzcut days, army.”

Ian grins at the old nickname and doesn’t protestwhen Mickey uses the hand on the back of his head to guide him closer.

“But then you can’t put your hands in my hair,” Ianpoints out teasingly. Tugging on Ian’s hair has always been one of Mickey’sweaknesses and judging by the look on his face, it still is.

Mickey seems to weigh his options for a moment beforehis nods decisively. “I can deal for a few weeks.”

Ian’s grin is so wide he thinks his face is going tosplit in two as he shakes his head. “You’re so full of shit.”

Mickey scoffs. “So I gotta type, sue me.” He’ssmirking at Ian now, fingers massaging the back of Ian’s scalp and it’s just-it’s the combination of the teasing and the comfort. It’s everything Ian needsand exactly what makes him lean in to kiss Mickey again, current environment bedamned.

Mickey kisses him back anyway, soft and sweet, andlets his forehead linger against Ian’s for a moment when they break apart.

They’re both quiet for a beat but then Mickey leansback. “Seriously though, first thing in the morning. We’re getting you a razor.”

Ian laughs and thinks the next two years of his lifesuddenly sound a lot more bearable.

*

[turning-the-kaleidoscope]

Ahhh it’s been a while but I wrote another hug prompt!! unfortunately I can’t remember exactly who had requested this prompt in particular jklsdfsdf, but have some soft Teru + Shigeo + Dadreigen at the end, sickfic style bc 1) i can and 2) soft hurt/comfort is so therapeutic so heck yeah!! i hope you guys like it! :D

hug prompt 17: a hug where one muse stops the other from collapsing (with Teru and Shigeo) 

Teru likes the company. After being alone for so long with only a collection of fake friends, he enjoys all the company he has with Shigeo and the others. He treasures every moment. 

So he invites them over regularly for games and movies and snacks all the time. Sometimes all at once. Sometimes one at a time. Tonight is one of those latter times, when it's just him and Shigeo. He likes Shigeo a lot, more than he's able to put into words, and his company is always welcomed. 

Except this time, in the middle of the visit and quite suddenly, Shigeo comes down ill. And looking back on it, Teru should have seen the signs, even if Shigeo thought he was fine. It took him way too long to figure out what the problem was. 

But as soon as he knows what's wrong, he's in full caretaker mode--a mode he only knows after being looked after by Reigen while sick himself. He isn't glad Shigeo is under the weather, but he's been waiting for this opportunity to take care of his friends like they've done for him, and he approaches it with what might be a bit too much enthusiasm. 

"Reigen told me that you feed a cold and starve a fever," he quotes as he reads over a bottle of fever relievers from last he got sick. "And he made me take these, they're supposed to help."

"Are they?" Shigeo asks, and it isn't snarky, but the exhaustion in his tone brings it across that way. "I don't think my fever is very high, Teru…"

"Any fever is high enough to be taken care of," Teru says resolutely. "Trust me, I've got this."

"It's not that I don't trust you," Shigeo says, "but I really do think I'm fine, you don't have to worry about me."

"Listen, Shige." Teru pauses, long enough to look him in the eyes. He looks miserable, a lot more miserable than he seems, sitting on the edge of Teru's futon with a blanket around his shoulders. He isn't flushed (yet) but there's a glossiness in his eyes that speaks of a festering fever. 

He sighs. "You, Reigen, everyone… you've always looked after me, yknow? Always took care of me, made sure I was okay… and, I never really had the chance to repay that, properly. So… let me worry about you a lil, alright? It might sound silly, but I want to."

"Okay."

"Huh? That quick?"

"I mean," Shigeo fiddles with the blanket, "I think I understand what you mean. So if you really want to, I don't have any trouble with it."

Teru blinks, but it softens into a smile. "Alrightee!" He salutes without really thinking about it. "Leave this to me, then!"

Shigeo cracks a smile, and Teru sets about measuring the proper dose of medicine. 

It's easy, really, it is. 

Until that night. And it's around that time when things start to go from manageable to scary. It occurs to Teru in the most unpleasant of ways that he really, really doesn't know what he's doing. 

At all. 

And he should probably get in contact with someone who does. 

It isn't that Shigeo is sick in obvious ways. He isn't throwing up or unconscious or delirious or anything like that, he's just… very, very still. Quietly miserable and hard to rouse. Lethargic. Feverish, and very. The medicine didn't do its job. It's done nothing but rise since earlier that day and Teru is scared of giving him a second dose. 

"Hey, Shigeo?" He shakes his shoulder, and hates the heat he can feel, even through the blanket. "Dude, wake up, I need to take your temperature."

Shigeo doesn't stir at first and Teru's mind leaps to the worst of conclusions, but finally, his eyes slip open. He's flushed now, red in the cheeks and pale everywhere else. His eyes are glassy like marbles and carry only what light is reflected in them from Teru's phone flashlight. 

"What?" He sounds groggy. Not entirely there. 

Teru kneels by the futon and nods. "Temperature. Think you can keep this under your tongue?"

Shigeo nods and Teru hands it to him, and while he's doing that, gets up and retrieves a fresh cold plaster from the bathroom. He doesn't expect it to do much good, but it's better than nothing. 

He returns just as the thermometer beeps, and he kneels down and takes it from Shigeo's clammy fingers. Through the light of his phone, he examines the reading. 

39.4

Teru swallows down the bile in his throat. Shigeo doesn't ask him what it says, just shuts his eyes again and curls his fingers by his throat loosely. Teru peels back the not-cold-anymore plaster from his sweaty forehead, brushes his damp hair out of the way, and then replaces it with the fresh one. 

He needs to call someone. Someone who'd know what to do, someone who's done this before. Like Reigen. Or Serizawa. Serizawa lives closer, it's be faster, but Reigen might know more, might be able to stand in a crisis better--and Teru still doesn't know Serizawa very well, Reigen is a better bet. Plus, now that he thinks about it, he doesn't even have Serizawa's number. 

He checks on Shigeo one more time, makes sure the plaster is properly set on his forehead and the blankets are around his shoulders before he gets to his feet and steps down into the hallway, already dialing and holding the phone to his ear. It's only around 11pm; he doesn't know how late Reigen typically stays up, but--

“Yo, Teruki, what’s up?” 

He doesn't sound like someone who'd just woken up. And it only took two rings, too. But Teru doesn't let himself breathe a sigh of relief yet. 

"Hi, Reigen," he says, and forces the guilt away before it has the chance to start. This is for Shigeo. "I-I know it's late, I'm sorry, but--Shigeo's at my place, we've been hanging out, but he's sick and his fever spiked and I…” He has to stop and take a breath, suddenly lightheaded. “ I don't know what to do."

Reigen swears under his breath. "Okay, okay--how long's he had the fever?"

"Since before he got here, I think." He's calmer now than before and regains the steadiness of his voice. "But it's gotten a lot higher since then."

"How high?"

"39.4."

Another swear. “Is he awake?” 

"On and off. Usually I have to wake him. I gave him medicine earlier, the medicine you brought over last time--I don't think it did anything, though, he's just--he's really sick. I'm--I���m worried. About him."

"Okay, yeah, I'll be over there soon, okay? Give me five minutes."

It's such a relief and Teru can't help but feel the urge to laugh. "Th-Thank you," he breathes. 

"Don't mention it, it's alright. Keep an eye on him until I get there, okay?"

"I will, thank you."

“No prob, kiddo. See you in just a minute.” 

He hangs up and Teru's hand slumps down to his side, a breath escaping him. It's fine, Reigen will be here soon, it's okay--

"Teru? Was that Reigen?"

"Yeah?" He turns without thinking, and sees Shigeo standing in the doorway on untrustworthy feet. It clicks a second later than it should. "Shige, what are you doing up? You need to rest, come on--"

Shigeo is incredible, he really is. Sweet, clever in his own special ways, golden-hearted and gentle while simultaneously being a force of nature that Teru would never want on his bad side. 

But he can also be so, so incredibly dumb. Even when his body sends him every signal it can telling him to stay down and leave the walking to the non-feverish ones, he does it anyway without realizing it. 

Teru sees it coming probably before Shigeo knows it is. He sways, the glass in his irises becomes thicker and more heavily clouded, and then--

"Shigeo!"

He teleports, actually, without thinking, and still only just barely catches him before he faceplants the floor. Shigeo slumps and Teru holds him easily; Shigeo doesn't weigh much; but his skin is burning, and his forehead digs into Teru's collarbone and sends him into a panic. 

"Hey, are you okay? Are you with me? Hey, Shigeo."

"Sorry." He sounds out of breath, worn out. Sick. "I thought it'd be fine…"

Teru tries to get a better hold, tightening his arms around his shoulders and gripping his shirt with curled fingers. “You're sick, Shige, you need to stay in b--” A shift in Shigeo's weight, and Teru takes all of it. He slips. “Okay, okay we're going down--”

He lets them down as gently as he can, but his knees still hit the floor too hard and he winces, not excited about the bruising. But for now he focuses on Shigeo, who is still a too-warm, too-limp weight against him. It's easier to support him from the ground, though.

Teru maneuvers himself into a somewhat more comfortable spot, legs criss-crossed with Shigeo tucked close and secure. “Damn it, Shige, you need to rest…” 

“S… Sorry...” 

Teru sighs and rests his chin on the top of his head. “As soon as Reigen gets here, you’re going back to bed and you’re gonna stay there. Okay? You can’t get better if you keep pushing yourself like this, dummy.” 

Shigeo nods, and Teru feels it more than anything, but it’s enough for him, for now. If he wants to pursue the argument later (if it’s even worth it), then he can do it later. Right now he really does want Shigeo to rest, so he stays quiet and lets him. His fever is still much, much too high and not getting any lower. 

When Reigen knocks at the door, Teru opens it with a flick of his powers and Reigen is on them both immediately. His first question is why they’re on the floor--and of course that’s a valid question--and once Teru’s finished explaining, Reigen wastes no time. He’s gone full mama-bear mode now and it’d take more than Claw’s entire arsenal to stop him. 

He carries Shigeo with a brisk powerwalk and Teru jogs to flank him. After that, it’s like a routine. Reigen gets Shigeo to wake up, has him take another dose of medicine, uses a wet rag instead of a plaster (“Easier to deal with. Plus, ice water’s a lot colder.”), checks Shigeo’s fever (39.4 again, holding), and after that there isn’t a lot left to do. Reigen assures Teru that he’s got it covered and he’ll look out for Shigeo now, but it still takes a good hour or two before Teru finally falls asleep. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Admittedly, the armchair isn’t the best place to sleep, but Shigeo has the futon and for one night, Teru doesn’t mind. He wakes up with a crick in his neck and the feeling that he hadn’t slept at all, but forgives it and sits up. Reigen glances over at him in acknowledgment before returning his gaze to Shigeo. Reigen doesn’t look like he pulled an all-nighter, but there’s no doubt in Teru’s mind about it. 

Teru gets to his feet and quietly makes his way over. “How’s he doing?” 

“Better,” Reigen answers, scooting over. Teru sits down on the floor beside him. “His fever broke pretty quick after spiking, I’m just letting him rest now.”

Teru nods and looks over Shigeo for himself. He’s still flushed, as to be expected, but it’s lesser now and he’s definitely sleeping more peacefully. The tension in his shoulders ease, and he finally lets himself relax. 

“Hey, Teruki.” 

“Yeah?” 

He turns, and at the same time, Reigen’s hand lands on his shoulder. “I’m glad you called me,” he says with a soft kind of smile that’s a bit uncharacteristic for him, but still perfectly and entirely Reigen. “Actually, I’m proud of you for calling me. It would’ve been easy to just pretend you knew what you were doing, so… thanks, for letting me help out.” 

Teru blinks, first at the hand on his shoulder and then at Reigen, but before long he's smiling. 

"Thank you for being there," he returns. Reigen's smile redoubles and he ruffles Teru's hair. 

It's been hard to train himself out of that mindset of handling things himself, no matter how devastating, but he's gotten better at accepting others' help, whether he wants it or needs it. He isn't perfect yet, but they're getting there. They'll get there. 

[kae-karo]

Hi I used to be into the phandom so much but fell out in like??? 2017??? Maybe??? Has anything big happened at all? Has anyone died/caught on fire ( ;) )??

oh dear god where do i begin??? well fortunately both our lads are still alive. let me just start with saying 2018 has been like. probably the best year for dnp to date? i’ll try to go in some kind of order here but bear with me i’ll touch on a bit of 2017 stuff and then go into 2018 for ya

so first of all i’m not sure when you left the phandom in 2017 but the lads moved out of their previous flat in april of last year (x) (april-ish it was def before they posted the vid)

also our dear lil dani snot on fire is no longer not on fire (x) so uhh is he on fire now ig? i mean yeah that’s arguably true

*insert phil’s badaladala sound bc on the scale of Significant Things i don’t think anything else massive happened*

day one of demon month, we got this amazing vid from phil wherein viewers (aka dan) picked his outfits n he looked like a snacc and a half (would’ve been 2 snaccs if he’d embraced the quiff sooner but that’s getting ahead of things) (x)

!!!! then a week or so later dan posted his vid ‘daniel and depression’ where he opened up abt his struggle with depression (x) which was imo the start of him just being more open about himself in general. he also started working with young minds (a mental health org for young people in the uk) and shortly thereafter with prince william’s program to help prevent cyberbullying

then! on the day love was invented! dnp released their board game, truth bombs (x - yeah i linked the second vid and not the first, and wot) which u can buy if you’d like but it’s a lot of fun (x)

then these idiots did a conjoined jumper baking challenge and didn’t fucking wear shirts under the jumper like what dumb gays idk (x) but it was real funny and Good Content

then early nov dnp announced the interactive introverts tour (x) and then uhhh it happened (like 80+ shows??? in a ton of countries???) (x) and they’re releasing the filming of it along with some bonus content like a director’s commentary and u can preorder it (x)

also pinof 9 happened which as a legacy phan u know is always a Thing but this year it was especially a Thing so i recommend catching up (x, and the bloops - x)

and phew okay that’s the majority of 2017 Important Events but before i go on to 2018 i’ll just recap a few important events from dapg (basically just some gamingmas stuff):

wherein dan smacked phil in the face

and phil crushed the presents but dan helped him up

where phil pretended not to remember gamingmas was happening, leading to the most iconic simultaneous heart eyes howell/love eyes lester to date

dnp singing baby it’s cold outside together whilst playing yasuhati

iconic pinof 9 moment

dnp play charades but it’s phil’s turn, and he’s touchy

the not my arms challenge!!! playing mario kart

okay! and before anyone starts yelling i know there’s more but god if i put every iconic thing in this post would break there’s Too Much so let’s hop into 2018 bc it’s gonna be a long one

first i cannot believe dan fucking gave phil a philussy cake and phil’s parents asked phil what it meant jfc dan (x)

THE EARRING!!! dan’s first selfie with the lil hoop and it never leaves and we love it (x)

phil is just trying to take a selfie and dan ruins it (x) spoiler alert: phil gets him back in colorado (x)

okay big sigh two large events happen in march: the first, dan’s ‘trying to live my truth’ vid (x) it basically dan saying ‘i’m still figuring things out but i want to be more authentic and true to myself, and also authenticity is important for some people to feel happy in life’ vid that a lot of people hyperfixated on the end line of, where he said he would go ‘laugh at a joke with a chocolate bar and...something else in my mouth’ which people assumed meant a dick and therefore it was a subtle coming out vid, dan did a liveshow afterward (x) wherein he said that wasn’t the point of the vid and people got mad at him for ‘backtracking’ (if u want more of my Opinions on this feel free to check em out - x)

the second v v big event happened at the end of march when phil posted this iconic selfie that would be the downfall of the fringe (x) this has been titled the quiffening by some

shortly after that he began styling his hair in a quiff permanently which was probably the best decision he’s made since responding to one of his obsessed fans back in 2009

quick detour dan’s proud of his hubby (x) for winning fortnite and ‘fuxkung’ is now what ‘fucking’ autocorrects to in my phone

we also had dan releasing his merch (x) which is basically all black and themed around the eclipse logo and ‘don’t talk to me’, though he just released the exist line for world mental health day which has his quote ‘have the courage to exist’. he’s also mentioned possibly wanting to do more creative things like wide-necked or asymmetrical shirts dan just do a fashion line pls oh and he mentioned in a recent ls he might do an internet support group mug sometime soon

and then,,,,,pigeonfest. we watched. five hours. of phil livestreaming their patio. and literally nothing happened bc someone was like down on the street feeding pigeons so there weren’t even any pigeons for like 90% of the liveshow. but he literally didn’t talk it was just five hours of their patio and we all watched it. we all just watched it like the whipped phannies we are (x)

and then we got a brief but overwhelming dose of,,,,,,something from the easter baking vid (x) phil was hopped up on sugar and also confidence from his quiff and probably smth else as well

everything just blows up from there we have giving the people what they want (x) where, in preparation for ii (for which the underlying theme was ‘giving people what they want’), dnp reacted to pinof 1, swapped clothes, did the ‘yoga challenge’, recreated ditl manchester, ‘got a dog’, and made phil say fuck. honestly it shook the entire phandom to its core at the time but like. i’m less shooketh now? it’s sort of just fallen by the wayside in terms of how unpredictable dnp have been this year

then phil drops week in the life of dnp shortly thereafter which is just very very domestic even for them and their ditl style vids??? (x) phil filming dan in bed being one of the big demon highlights at the time

it’s right around this time too that insta stories start and my god it just goes jfc like i don’t even have the mental capacity to recall all the Iconic ones but i recommend checking out this playlist (x) which has all the ii tour stories goddamn there were a lot though they really put out that content didn’t they

in early may we get phil talking about why he changed his emo hair (x) and arguably the first official vid of the casual rebrand - phil’s more open and genuinely vulnerable about his fears about making a change to his hair, and i don’t think we’ve ever seen him that open before. the vids don’t stop being open though, with what dnp text each other (x) giving us coop and doop along with other iconic stories, dnp basically sitting on top of each other in that and other gaming vids on the tour bus, phil being very open abt his attraction to men (x) and the iconic final google feud vid with way too much of a specific kind of Energy (x) (ofc again there are More Vids but i don’t have the time/mental capacity to recap them all so i’m pickin the Big Ones)

monochrome mates (x)

phew okay so the tour in general as well - like if u don’t mind spoilers, i did a big ol analysis of what that was all about (x) but one of many many highlights is dan calling he and phil “best friends and soulmates” 

finally finally finally after months of waiting we also get some phil merch! (x) plant and animal themed, and he even released a lion plushie which sold out like instantly and he claimed he’d do more of but we have yet to see that. he says he’s got more ideas for other merch as well

now okay fast forward to october after the tour’s over bc i think the insta stories and the analysis cover it but then. then. then we get the pizza mukbang (x) thirty three minutes of dnp being more open and honest and casual than literally they’ve ever been on camera maybe ever, and i’m including liveshows in this statement. no holds barred, authentic vulnerable dnp. a religious experience

end of october spooky week hits us and i think the key vid to call out here is the creepy mind of phil lester bc i think it was another open honest authentic vid (x) where they talked a lot, casual domestic w.e got some insight into phil’s mind it was v good

and then they carve pumpkins jfc which was an experience (x) there were a lot of innuendos but also one of the first years they didn’t do a halloween baking in a while (though they have hinted at possibly doing christmas baking) idk i’m fully overwhelmed at this point lmao like a Lot happened this year

phew okay and Then just yesterday philly dropped his vid on why he went to (the) hospital (x) idk soz that’s a british thing i think like we say ‘the’ anyway. which i’ve been talking abt quite a lot lately but it was another very open and honest vid in which he expressed a lot of vulnerability and fear and perceived flaws and it was just a quality like. open vid.

jfc okay hope that helps obviously there’s a lot i didn’t mention, but this should at least get you caught up on some of the big stuff!! and while i’m at it have a few more Important Gifs from this year

a very important moment of communication whilst on tour, deciding whether or not they’re okay with doing a ‘third wheel’ pose

dan flinging himself off the chair in anger whilst playing getting over it

nose boop from phil’s instagram explore pages vid

subsequent nose boop from the extreme tetris vid

and a cheek boop from the overcooked 2 vid

dan pulling phil’s hand off the mouse in fear during spooky week, swamp simulator (shrek slender)

touchy!dan during pizza mukbang

oh god. okay. again, this is not everything, just a big list of some big events over the past year-ish. i’m sure i’ve missed some important stuff but i think i covered most of it! hope this helps ya get caught up dear!

[3x3racha]

Stray Kids Reaction: Their s/o passing away

A/N: Thanks for requesting! I love angst too. Sorry I made them long and it was kind of hard to find gifs to go with the reactions. Also, I recommend listening to ‘Another Me’ by Min Chae to set the mood, or just watch ‘Black’ it’s such an angsty kdrama that I haven’t been able to get out of my head for months. Anyways, hope you like it!

~Admin Yeong ☾

Chan: Once he got news that you died his eyes would tear up. “What?” He’d take a deep breath trying to calm himself down. He starts to choke up. “Oh god,” he said in full realization, he’d excuse himself. He tries so hard to act and look strong, but he can’t hide his crying. Especially at night, he cries harder. The times he’s staying up late for work and you’d normally scold him for it, now left him waiting for that text. The text he’d never receive again would break him down once more. He’d try to release his grieving by making music as an outlet. He’d start to overwork himself further to try to find something to feel the void in his chest. The boys try to help him and although he appreciates it, he wants to remain strong for them. He wants to be a great leader and set a good example.

“I’m fine guys. Really. I’m o- I’m okay. I will be at least, for Y/n.”

Woojin: Upon hearing that you passed away, he’d be in denial at first. He slowly shakes his head, not wanting to believe what he’s hearing. His breath becomes heavier as it feels like there’s a weight pressing down on his lungs. His hands begin to shake and tears slip out. He’d try to get his mind focused on other things, by singing and playing guitar but everything reminded him of you. All the good times you had, even the bad but any memory he had of you he cherished bc you were the light of his life. Now that the light had burned out, he was left in darkness. No one expected that your death would hold such a dark cloud over his head, unable to get rid of. The boys did everything to help him through this. Woojin would try his hardest to move forward, knowing that’s what you would want for him.

“E-everywhere I look, I see a part of y/n. I can’t help it. It’s tearing me apart.”

Lee Know (Minho): As he hears what happened, his breath becomes hitched as his lips start quivering, his eyes darting around the room. He quickly becomes overwhelmed and nauseous. He quickly leaves the room, locking himself in the nearest room of isolation. He sobs loudly while throwing pillows out of anger. It takes forever for the members to get him to open the door. Once he does, Jisung comes in and hugs him as Minho cries about how unfair it is. He breaks down, practically groveling to his knees. He tries to carry on, but he’s constantly pulled back by the memories of you. He starts to internalize all his feelings and tries to put on this facade that he’s okay. But he still can’t bring himself to smile, he couldn’t even fake it.  

“Why them? Y/n didn’t deserve this! Why couldn’t it’d been me?”

Changbin: He’s skeptical at first when he hears what happened. Thinking that there’s been a mistake. It couldn’t possibly be his Y/n, right?  His eyes fill with tears and rage not wanting to believe any of this. He’s hurt and super bitter about the situation. He backs out of the room needing a minute to process everything. He clenches his jaw as tears start streaming down his face. He tries so hard to stop them but ends up choking on his cries. He grips his phone pressing the home button as the screen illuminates with the lockscreen of you two. His grip tightens before he throws the phone across the room. This causes Felix to go knock on his door to check on him. Felix walks in and sees Changbin on his knees sobbing. Felix comforts him and becomes Changbin’s anchor to help him through all of this. Felix tries to keep him cheerful afterward but everyone notices how depressed and emotionless he’s now become.

“You’re wrong! They-they can’t be dead! They can’t die!”

Hyunjin: When they were explaining your death, Hyunjin stares at the floor hoping no one saw the tears dropping onto the ground. Seungmin asks him if he’s okay and Hyunjin quickly nods, still staring at the ground, before storming off to the bathroom. He slams the door and quickly turns on the faucet and shower, hoping that the sound of water running drowns out the sound of his cries. He throws his back against the wall before sinking down, sitting on the floor as he sobs trying to figure out how this could’ve happened. He feels betrayed by your death, he doesn’t blame you, he just thinks the whole situation is unfair. The boys would try to comfort him and he’d try to reassure them that he’s fine. He tries to cover up his pain and act like everything’s okay but he goes through moments where he can’t hold back his tears any longer. He still tries to wipe them away like it’s nothing, but it’s honestly affecting his mental state so much.

“Why’d you have to go, y/n? What do I do now?! I need you!”

Han (Jisung): He starts crying hard and he gets this pain in his stomach due to grief. Your death takes a toll on both his mental and physical state. He tries to keep his breakdown to a minimal which doesn’t work and he collapses to the floor trying to breathe. He can’t calm down enough to steady his breathing. The boys try to help him and comfort him but it’s almost like he’s in a trace. It’s like the world had stopped, he can’t see anything around him, and all he hears is white noise. He’s only focused on the fact that you’re dead and gone. He feels like he’s drowning and his head is going to explode. Once he calms down a little bit more from his panic attack, he still couldn’t focus on anything else. He’d really detach himself from the group, the members try their best to help him. Jisung tries to act okay for them, but every night he reflects and sobs. He feels like he lost apart of him when you died.

“No. No. Please. Please tell me this is a joke. It can’t be true. I will lose my mind if they’re dead!”

Felix: He can’t help the tears that are falling as he tries to swallow his heartache. He’d try to speak but nothing would come out. He’d start crying harder the more it sunk in. He’d go hug one of the boys and cry into them. Our bright sunshine boy is thrown into a dark place where he can’t come out of. He cries for weeks, mourning your absence. He tries to get over it and move on, but when his mind drifts and he spaces out, he can’t help but think of you. He has random breakdowns about it and he feels as if he’s lost who he is and can’t seem to grasp onto any happiness for longer than a second. Every time he laughs, he goes to look at you but you’re not there. He lost the one he loved most, the one he’d always laugh with. Now the cold reality would hit him every time he’d want to share a joke with you.

“I can’t take this! Y/n was my everything. They meant the world to me and now they’re gone. How do I even go on?”

Seungmin: When he was told that you had passed away, he starts breathing heavy as he tries to talk himself through this. He tries to be calm and rational but how could he when your death wasn’t even rational and he couldn’t understand why it had to happen. He’d take a few minutes to himself as he quietly wept. His grieving is released in smaller doses in a longer time stamp. His biggest sobs could be heard as he looked back at old photos of you two. He creates a bad habit of crying himself to sleep, holding a Polaroid of you. He realizes the late night talks with you about the future and all the promises you made could never be fulfilled. They could never happen now that you're dead and it tore him apart. It wasn’t supposed to end like this, not in this way. He’d fake a smile and wave the boys on telling them he’s doing great when he’s really not. They know he’s not. They could hear him sob every night, quietly whispering to you hoping you’d hear him somehow.

“Y/n, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry this happened to you. To us. I wish you were here. I could really use you right now. I need you in my life. Come back.”

I.N (Jeongin): He doesn’t know what to do or how to deal with any of this. At first, he wants to believe that it’s just a joke. When he realizes that it’s not, he starts hyperventilating and panicking. When a member tries to hug and comfort him he pushes them away more harshly than he intended. He frantically locks himself in his room tears building up in his eyes as his hands tighten into fists. His sobs are a mixture of sadness and angst. He’s so confused on how this could happen, especially to the love of his young life. He’d push everyone away, not intentionally he just couldn’t handle anything anymore. He didn’t know how to deal with this. This mood would go on for weeks. His grieving is released sporadically and impulsively. He throws small angry tantrums and then cries into his pillow for a couple hours. The boys would have to approach him with caution when it came to comfort. It had to be when Jeongin was ready. They couldn’t rush him into it. Once he gives in he starts getting back to normal. But if he’s having a bad day, thoughts of you would flood his mind since you always helped him. It’s times like this where he would go back to his angry grieving state again.

“W-what? Hyung, no. How am I supposed to take this?! Y-y/n is gone! Forever. I-I don’t know if I can handle this...”

Send your requests here!

~Admin Yeong ☾

[qnangelica-blog]

Stained Glass Eyes

Note: I’m a new fic writer! I love writing but I’m also super busy so I’m not sure how frequently I’ll get to write but I’m doing this so hopefully more often than not. Lmao also I started writing this like 2 years ago for a completely different fandom so the first few chapters (bc there will be more than one) the writing could be a little weird, I’m editing them and such but they’ll most probably be different than later chapters bc I’d like to hope that my writing has improved since then :) This is the 1st chapter, so it’s just getting things started, let me know if a part 2 is wanted!

Pairing: Lafayette x reader

Summary: (High School! AU) Lafayette and (Y/N) are seniors, and their paths only crossed under an unfortunate (and unlikely) event.

Warnings: some swearing, semi-badly translated french

Word count: 2310

Laf

“Merde” was my first thought as I walked into the school building. Three years into American high school, and I was not having une bonne fois (a good time). My friends were great, but I can’t say the same for Ridgeview High School. I was ready to go and explore the country, to bring justice to those who need it most. Instead, I was stuck in an old (and kind of dirty) building learning mostly boring things. Seulement une année de plus. Seulement une année d (Only one more year to go. Only one more yea)-

“Laf!” Hercules, one of my best friends (and partner and crime) yelled. He started barrelling towards me, having no mercy for the poor freshman he mowed down on his way over.

“Herc!” I shouted back, not being able to help myself. I ran towards him too, but, he wanted to high five, and I wanted to hug, so he ended up slapping me in the face and we both stumbled a bit.

“Fun.” I muttered, reeling slightly from the force of Hercules’ slap. Herc was laughing, seemingly unaffected by nearly falling to the ground. He was one of the few people I acted like a relatively normal person around. To most at Ridgeview, I was the aloof Frenchman, who wouldn’t give many people the time of day. I was with the “in crowd”, and no one could touch us. It bothered me that my friends and I didn’t bother to associate ourselves with people lower down on the “social pyramid", but Burr and Jefferson insisted that we had an image to keep up. As much as I enjoyed their friendships, their elitist attitudes really irked me, to the point where I could only take small doses of them. When we graduate Alexander, Herc, John, and I plan to band together and do something to help people in need. We just can’t agree on what to actually do. Start a nonprofit, become politicians, go on speaking tours, whatever it will take to make change.

“I would ask you how your summer was, but I spent most of it with you. How’s life?” Hercules asked.

“Eh, c’est pas grave, mais- (it isn’t bad but-)” I started talking but he was quickly distracted by Alex and John walking toward us.

“Johnny boy!” Herc yelled, yet again, a wide grin spreading across his face.

“Jerkules!” John shouted back. Good to see he hadn’t changed a bit.

When they got to us, I smiled at Alexander. “‘Bonjour, Hamilton.”

“Salut, Lafayette, ça va (Hi, Lafayette, how are you)?” He grinned back at me.

I rolled my eyes. “Je ne suis pas un grand admirateur d’ici (I’m not a big fan of here).”

Alex slapped me on the back. “Well, feel sad no more!” His signature grin spread across his face, then he nudged John.

“Attention people of Ridgeview’s main hallway!” Multiple people looked up, some getting their phones out in order to spread the word of whatever John was about to say. “Alex and I are having a party at my house this weekend. Tell all of your friends!” he yelled.

“Except Thomas!” Alexander quickly added, only half jokingly.

Everyone immediately burst into excited chatter; people knew John and Alex threw the wildest parties, so it was no question that the turnout would be huge. I, for one, was quite excited. I loved their parties, particularly because of the chance of les jolies filles (pretty girls) attending.

I talked to Herc for a minute before turning around to find John and Alex making out against my locker. “Hey! Non! If you two could not taint my locker, that’d be great.” John pulled away and smiled sheepishly, but then proceeded pull Alex a locker over and continue their antics.

I quickly got my Physics II book out of my locker so I could not have to see any more of John’s tongue being that far down Alex’s throat, and hurried down the hall to catch up with Herc, who was on his way to find his English classroom.

 “Herc! Attends (wait)-” I bumped into someone on my quest for my friend. I looked and was momentarily taken aback. Elle est trés belle (she is very beautiful). Her (Y/E/C) quickly drew me in. I remembered that I wasn’t supposed to be friendly with those not in my social circle. I had never wanted to disagree with Burr’s philosophy more. However, after seeing a flash of fear in her eyes, I snapped out of it.

“Watch where you’re going.” I said, harshly. I know it was a bit cold, but I can’t show weakness or associate myself with someone as unknown as her, because I feared Jefferson, as did the rest of the school (except maybe Hamilton). I pushed down the emotion that came with bumping into her, and remembered what Jefferson said: “if you didn’t know who they are, then they must not be that important.”

It was lunchtime, and I was so relieved. Physics really was not my cup of tea, Mr. Jones’ lectures made sense when I was there, but as soon as I received the homework all of his words flew out the window.

“Laf!” Herc shook me lightly. “You’re totally out of it. What gives?”

“S’il te plait (please), never speak like that again. And I just had to go through more than an hour of electric fields.” I smiled lightly. Everyone at the table groaned, starting to complain about their teachers and classes they had this year.

I looked over to Jefferson, who was sitting a couple of people away from me, as far away from Hamilton as possible. He smiled lightly at me and waved. “How’s your first day of school going so far, Laf?”

“Like I said, J’ai plus de une heure de la physique. Je préfèrais être mis dans un champ électrique que apprends plus de choses sur eux (I had more than one hour of physics, I would rather be put in an electric field than learn more things about them).” I said, scrunching my nose up and earning some chuckles from my friends at the table.

“Okay, but you notably did not say that earlier, because you were speaking in English at that point,” John pointed out, Hercules nodding as well.

A collective chuckle spread across the table, then quieted down slightly, everyone having their own conversation. Honestly, the lunches at my school weren’t half bad, nobody really complained about them, and they had all the elements that are needed for a growing teenager. It was surprisingly good for the classic American high school. I looked around the room, and my eyes immediately landed on cette belle fille (that beautiful girl) I bumped into earlier. She was sitting next to girl with dark hair and a pink dress, who was talking to her, but she didn’t really seem to notice. She was staring right back at me. I quickly averted my eyes, making sure no one had seen the exchange. Like I said before, I wasn’t really supposed to associate myself with people outside the group.

A few minutes later, I looked back, but this time the mystery girl averted her eyes when I caught her staring for the second time. Je me demande qu’elle veut. (I wonder what she wants).

The lunch bell rang, causing a collective groan to ripple throughout the cafeteria. No one wanted to go back to class, obviously. I had U.S. History next and I was okay with that. I liked learning about this still kind of new country, and what lead to the systems in place today. That was my last period because I had a free one after that, so I planned on just going to the library and hoping to get a computer to study before Alex drove John and I home.

However, all throughout history, I couldn’t get that girl out of my head.

(Y/N)

The first day back at school was always one of the best. You walked into the Ridgeview doors slowly, taking in the environment you would be in for the next nine months.

You didn’t mind school, you were an honors student and on the student council. You kind of just cruised along socially, some people knowing who you were, and others not (despite you being friends with some of the most known and respected people in school), and that was mostly how you liked it. You were excited for the first council meeting tomorrow, you wanted to see if something could be done about the lack of functioning computers in the library and the state of the school bathrooms, you only ever used the one at home.

Along with making changes to the school, you help out with the special ed students when you can. No one really messes with the student council, not because you’re all badass and terrifying-- quite the opposite, actually-- it’s just that you make meaningful changes and people respected you for that.

Suddenly, you heard a familiar voice project throughout the hallway. “Attention people of Ridgeview’s main hallway! Alex and I are having a party at my house this weekend. Tell all of your friends!” John Laurens shouted.

“Except Thomas!”

Hmm, a party. You’ll have to ask your friends about whether you wanted to go or not. You quickly went to your locker to get your French textbook and hurried to class so as not to be late.

“Herc! Attends-” you slammed into someone when walking down the main hallway. You recognized that voice. Oh no, you just ran into Marquis de Lafayette.

You looked up slightly, feeling embarrassed. You definitely had a slight crush on him. Thinking about him may or may not have made heat rush to your cheeks. You made eye contact with him; his face was blank for a split second before a look you couldn’t really read crossed it.

“Watch where you’re going.”

Oh. You nodded slightly and scurried away. Your crush on Laf was one sided and shallow. It’s clear that he’s super hot, it’s quite hard not to like him. He could be cold, distant, and mean, and didn’t like to associate himself with people who weren’t as popular as him. Oh well, you could always admire from afar, and pretend that he was super nice and wanted to make out with you… kind of like how Alexander and John were against someone’s locker. As cool as you thought they were, you were not incredibly enthusiastic to continue watching.

You hurried along to your class, trying to see if you could find your friend Angelica on the way. You had no such luck, not finding her in the halls. Suddenly, a pair of cold hands clamped themselves over your eyes. “Guess who?”

Spoke too soon. “Eliza!” you exclaimed jokingly, knowing it was not her. You turned around, smiling at your best friend. Her eyes were curious, her dress was pink, and her mood was fierce. She was holding a can of Peace Tea (typical) and a little box in her outstretched hand.

“What’s this?” you asked, taking the box from her.

“Well, I didn’t see you all summer because I was in Florida, so here!”

You opened the box, seeing an assortment of little charms for a bracelet she had gotten you on her vacation. The charms shimmered and glinted in the fluorescent hallway lighting, and made a delightful jingling sound as you picked up the bracelet and inspected it. You’re sure Angelica had spent a lot of time trying to find charms that said something about you, and you engulfed her in a hug. “Thanks so much, Angel!”

“It’s Angelica.” she grumbled playfully.

“Yeah, well tell that to kindergarten me who didn’t know how to pronounce your name,” you smiled. “What do the new charms mean?”

Angelica grinned. “This one,” she pointed to a little fist, “represents our friendship, because we’re bros.”

You snorted, doing your best jock imitation. “Totally, my main dudebro!”

She rolled her eyes and continued. “This one’s a needle, to represent sewing the broken heart charm back together.” Wow, Angel had put a lot of thought into this. “The boxing gloves is what ur boo thang Laf does, and the best person in the universe, a.k.a. me, so obviously you have to have a charm to remind you of us.”

You gave her a look of horror, making sure no one had heard her announce your crush on the school’s resident frenchman. It’s not like it wasn’t uncommon for people to have crushes on him, especially considering his looks, but even so, if anyone heard that you had a crush on the Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette, you would never live it down. “Shhhh!” you shoved Angelica lightly.

She laughed, showing you the last charm. “This one’s a shooting star, representing my knowledge that you’re going places with your life, and the fact that you should always remember that your dreams are possible and worth reaching for.”

You pulled her into a hug. She put so much thought into this, you really couldn’t have asked for a better best friend. “Thanks so much, Angel. I got you some knuckle tape but it’s at my house, you can come over after school if you want.”

“It’s all good, girl. And sure, I’ll meet you out front after school, I gotta go give Peggy her charger and head to music.” And with that Angelica walked off down the hallway, being mindful of the lost freshman.

You gently readjusted your french book that Laf had jostled and headed off to class.

At lunch, you and Angelica sat together, along with Peggy, Eliza, Sally, and Maria. You arrived to the table, quickly falling into conversations about your summers and excitement for the upcoming year. However, you quickly became very busy staring at Laf, Angelica and Maria were trying to figure out the equation of the curve of Peggy’s butt with their graphing calculators, and Eliza and Sally were having their own little conversation.

Angelica leaned over and nudged you. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

You laughed. “As if I haven’t stalked his social medias for selfies all the time. I have seen many pictures in my years, young woman.” You continued to stare. You couldn’t help yourself, he was just so goddamned attractive. You’re pretty sure you could start a fan club for his biceps, you probably wouldn’t be the only one in it. The way his nose crinkles slightly when he smiled, or his tan skin, or how you really wanted to run your hands through his thick hair…

You were so busy staring and daydreaming that you didn’t notice him looking back at you. As soon as you snapped out of it, he quickly averted his eyes.

You hit Angelica’s arm repeatedly until she looked at you. “I just made eye contact with Lafayette,” you squeaked.

“I’ll start planning the wedding immediately.” She rolled her eyes, chuckling lightly at your antics, then added: “He’s not that great, you know.”

You mock gasped at her. “Angelica! We all know he’s all that great… looking.” You sent her a goofy smile.

She tried not to smile as she replied. “True.”

You looked back, just to see him staring right back at you. You were the one to avert your eyes this time. You turned to Angelica and started talking to her quietly, asking her what the eye contact could’ve meant.

Angelica just rolled her eyes again. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to get the invites out fast enough, your relationship with him is moving so fast!”

You laughed sarcastically. “Oh, ha fucking ha, Angel. You are actually the funniest person I’ve ever met in my entire life.”

“I know, I’m hilarious.” She stood up and bowed dramatically.

“Hey, did anyone hear about Lams’ party?” Maria asked the table.

“Oh yeah, what do you guys think?” I asked, looking around at your friends’ faces.

“Hell yeah I’m in, I’m always ready to look hot and find a cute guy!” Peggy exclaimed. After getting a look from Eliza and Angelica, she coughed. “I mean, I always love partying responsibly!”

“Alright, calm down Pegs.” Sally said, causing a collective laugh to spread throughout the table.

“I’m fine with it.” Eliza said, having everyone agree with her.

“Alright, we’ll go then.” You said.

“Yes! Squad up!” Peggy yelled.

“How about shut up?” You laughed, pushing her shoulder lightly to let her know you were joking.

Shortly afterwards, the bell rang, and you all made your ways to your respective classes. After school, Angelica and Eliza came to yours, and you studied and argued passionately about conspiracy theories. They went home later, and after they left, you ate and went to sleep, preparing yourself for school the next day.