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chrisevansgoodgirl · 4 years

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light of my life, fire of my loins. be a good baby, do what i want.

summary: requested: Andy Barber gives me such strong sugar daddy vibes I haven’t watched the show but he just looks like the kinda guy who would spoil the shit outta someone

warnings: smut everywhere. and you know, sugar daddy shit, so. also, doesn’t make a lot of sense. I have a lot more that I actually wrote, I just wasn’t sure where I was going with this. so...prompt sugar andy daddy if you want more???

word count: around 10,400

pairing: andy barber x reader

a/n: anon! I want you to know that I started working on this as soon as you requested it! I just wanted to make sure I really got sugar daddy andy down and that it wasn’t steve rogers that I was writing. I am so sorry bc you definitely deserved this a very long time ago! if there are any typos, I apologize, I just needed to get this posted before work.

When you met Andy, you had been juggling three jobs, gaining more debt than you would probably ever be able to pull off even with a degree, fairly sucky grades caused by how much you worked, resulting in stress, anxiety, all that great shit that comes along with being someone in America that dares to want to pursue higher education.

After a few months dating Andy, you had one job that you only kept for autonomy reasons, shrinking debt, excellent grades, and truly, no stress at all. Instead of spending a night waiting tables at the restaurant near the campus, where disgusting men would flirt with you because you were on the clock and literally could not leave, you were in a tiny ass dress, covered in diamonds, drinking champagne, and trying not to be too obvious about the cum dripping down your thighs.

Obscene was often a word that you played with in your mind whenever you were with Andy. Your outfits were indecent because he loved seeing as much of your skin as he possibly could. Your behavior was shameless, you showed up, you laughed, you hung onto him the entire night with the smuggest of smiles. Your willingness, especially in public, was vulgar, the way you let him touch you in front of everyone. Salacious. Indecorous. Immoral. Debauched.

These parties that he took you to were only half of it. According to his son, Jacob, Andy hadn’t been one for socializing before the divorce. He claimed that this was something new his father picked up, something that he theorized was the consequence of loneliness. You figured that you also fell under that category. These people weren’t actually his friends and you weren’t actually his girlfriend.

Andy wanted a distraction and you were just fucked up and high-maintenance enough to be perfect for the job. Getting into the swing of things had been quite the task at the start, much to your surprise. Who didn’t want a gorgeous man to spoil them? Apparently you, if your earlier behavior was any indication.

You had started this with wanting to be as professional as possible. When you had pictured how this would look, it was you listening to him speak whenever he wanted, you would respond when prompted but it would be short, succinct, and your main concern would be maintaining your physical attractiveness. You tried to think of him as your employer, you were his employee, and that meant that there needed to be respect and boundaries. You pictured a lot of pretending. Pretending to laugh, pretending to care, pretending to enjoy his company, pretending to come.

You had also thought you were going to smart. This wasn’t some stupid Lifetime movie and you had dreams and goals and if you played your cards right, this man could put you on a sure path to reaching all you had ever hoped to accomplish. At least, that was what you were telling yourself when you’d had the mental quandary: were you a prostitute?

Thankfully, both phases of resistance had been dropped—possibly around the first time he went down on you. You were no expert, but “professional” probably barred him from fucking you in about 90% of his chosen locations. And whether you were a “prostitute”, an “escort”, a “hooker”, or whatever other demeaning word anyone could come up with, was another unimportant matter. Anyone could call you anything, at the end of the day, you had money.

It was supposed to be clean, a black and white exchange where you showed up and he paid you. At any point, you could step on the brakes, he could step on the brakes—something you had once found relief in, but was now a source of insecurity, not that you would ever tell him that. He didn’t need to know about your life, what you wanted to do after school, who your friends were, your shaky relationship with your parents, the reasons why someone like you wanted to enter this relationship.

But he asked about those things because rules seemed to either not exist to him, or they just weren’t meaningful. And you hadn’t felt pressured to answer or anything, if that was the case, you would have just lied. The fact of the matter was that eventually you told him these things because you didn’t mind him knowing about your life.

He was not supposed to be kind or smart or interesting. He was not supposed to be a good guy. Clearly, he didn’t get the memo. There should be an official organization that lets men know you can’t just be perfect and spoil someone if you look anything like Andrew Barber.

It was the middle of April in Massachusetts and that meant it was still just a little too chilly for the slinky slip Andy had picked out for you, but that was what all the champagne was for. You were buzzing and it wasn’t just that you were getting drunk. Summer was approaching and he often spoke about all of the things he wanted to do with you now that you had more free time and he gave you these looks and you could just get lost in his eyes and plans even though you knew better.

You had been doing this long enough that people had finally stopped staring. The first few times Andy brought you, they were blatant and downright rude, but it wasn’t like you could do anything about it. Despite the disproportionate wealth shared amongst this group, it wasn’t too often that someone brought along a much younger woman that they were undoubtedly paying. Most of these men were married and either brought their wives along or tales of their affairs.

The rich people here treated this like an elite group, so when people like you were around, not everyone was welcoming. The other few women that had similar situations to yours were kind enough and tried to get to know you better—shared experiences create great friendships, right? Andy didn’t think so, he discouraged any type of communication and claimed that it was because they didn’t tend to stick around long. You theorized he just didn’t want you spending time with anyone that wasn’t him.

The woman across from Andy, Francesca, had been around for as long as you could remember. She had long, dark brown hair, flawless eyebrows, a great jawline, and an even greater ass. She was a few years older than him and several older than you.

You often pondered just how much more interesting than you she was. See, she had never hidden that she was attracted to him, but Andy seemed oblivious. You couldn’t tell if he actually was or was just pretending not to notice. You told yourself it was deeper than just the age, that there was another, much different reason that he wasn’t interested in her.

But, of course, you couldn’t ask. You couldn’t talk to him about other women because that was teetering on the edge of possessiveness and jealousy. Those were two of the few luxuries that you would be denied. Romance would not be found here, just a lot of mutual lust and understanding.

She laughed at something he said, pulling you back into the moment. As you sipped on your champagne, you returned to your favorite activity at these parties: people watching. You were starting to pick up on some of the drama and whatever blanks were left at the end of the nights, Andy usually filled them for you.

There were certain types of men that always bred the most scandalous scenarios. Those are the same few men that had only just recently stopped trying to buy you away from Andy by offering you more money than he was paying you. Yes, technically, that was what you were here for, but Andy was not like these men.

For starters, most everyone in attendance was a lawyer. They followed the model of: the worse the job was, the better the pay. Unlike them, Andy didn’t represent sleazy, rich rapists or murderers. That was just the start of the differences. He didn’t get so drunk that he caused a scene at these parties, he didn’t touch drugs, and he wasn’t going through some tragic midlife crisis that he was trying to placate with cars or women.

When you looked back at the pair, Andy was texting and Francesca was eyeing your hand around the glass were sipping from. She was looking at your rings—oh, your rings. You loved your rings.

Originally, you’d thought you weren’t going to ask for or accept anything stupid. You just needed your bills paid, your rent, your car. You wanted to be able to eat more than once a day. Andy quickly realized that you wouldn’t ask, if he wanted you to have something, he was just going to have to give it to you.

(On your very first date, he’d given you a diamond bracelet. You had been stunned, maybe even a little uncomfortable. It was hard to accept such expensive items from strangers. However, you did like it and wore it almost every day even though it made no sense with most of your outfits. You’d simply grown fond of it because it had come from him.)

(On the fourth date, he gave you a three-strand diamond necklace that strongly resembled a collar. You adored it, not the way you adored your rings, but it still gave you butterflies whenever he would clasp it around your neck and then kiss the skin directly under it. These were things that he’d called gifts, but you recognized them for what they actually were, signs of ownership.)

The first ring had been a reward. You’d made it through midterms, so he took you to the jewelry shop that’s on the way back to your apartment from his house. After three hours and a lot of wine—you’d needed to be drunk the first few times you knew he was spending money on you—you left with the tiara ring for your pinky finger. It was a loud piece of intricate curls on top of and underneath a row of tiny hearts. This ring was the most special, the first, you rarely ever took it off—only for school.

The second had been an apology. He’d convinced you to spend the night at his house even though he knew you really didn’t want to. He had kissed your neck and your face and had two of his fingers inside you, he had whispered all the things he still wanted to do to you that night. Around two in the morning, you’d gone to get water from the kitchen. You were in a pair of panties and one of Andy’s shirts that you didn’t bother to button up. That was how you were dressed when you met his son for the first time. Two days later, you had the butterfly ring in its spot at the base of your index finger. It was gaudy and expensive but did little to quell your anger and humiliation. You loved it, nonetheless.

The third had been an anniversary present. This relationship had reached its 100-day mark, he took you to his favorite restaurant, the same one he had taken you to for your first date. Which wasn’t romantic at all, there were a lot of terms being discussed. This time had been much different. He asked you for your hand and slipped the ring onto your third finger without a word, he merely eyed the only empty finger with the unstated promise that that finger would soon have one as well. It was this huge oval cut diamond that covered the width of your finger, atop two bands of smaller but still fairly large identically cut diamonds.

A little less than three weeks after that, it had been…well, you still weren’t quite sure what the fourth ring was. It wasn’t often that Andy didn’t drive you. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, you had only one class so he would drop you off and pick you up during his lunch break so you could get coffee together. On Wednesdays and Fridays, you had more than one class so he would drop you off and he would pick you up when he got off work.

One Wednesday morning, your first class had been canceled so you ended up driving yourself. Andy took Wednesdays and Fridays as his early days off because he didn’t want you waiting in the library too long after your final class let out, so those had become the simple nights when he would come over to your apartment even though he really didn’t like it there—you figured he was struggling with the urge to buy you a much bigger apartment, one that would probably coincidentally be closer to his house as well.

You had made the plan to cook dinner that night so before heading home, you drove to the grocery store… Fortunately, no one was hurt. Unfortunately, at your place just in front of the stoplight, a car in the turn lane drove right into your car. Honestly, it wasn’t a big deal considering your life of absolute privilege and you just wanted to get the whole thing over with.

Andy wasn’t quite as level-headed. The other driver was a middle-aged man so Andy felt no reluctance in throwing a fit. You had been torn between being humiliated that he was fussing so much over you, flattered that he cared, angry that he was treating you like you were a fragile vase, or maybe just a little turned on because he was so angry.

That night, instead of your place, he took you to his house and spoiled the hell out of you. He undressed you and kissed you everywhere, he bundled you up in one of his sweaters and a throw blanket, sat you down on the bed, and made you hot chocolate. You were not allowed to lift a single finger. That was the first night you spent at his house, and since Jacob wasn’t there, Andy didn’t hesitate to fuck you for hours and make you scream as loudly as he wanted you to.

The next morning, when you woke up, the black velvet box was set on the pillow between you and him. He was propped up on the headboard with his laptop and the clock on his bedside table was saying that it was well past noon. Clearly, he decided to stay home from work and if there wasn’t jewelry in front of you, you would have given him a lecture.

It was a princess cut diamond—which he would later explain with ‘you are my princess’—with a double halo and a diamond-encrusted band. It was smaller than all the rest but somehow just went perfectly.

You weren’t bragging, at least not in a petty way. It was just that any time you noticed someone staring at your hand, you couldn’t help but try to draw more attention to it, or the other jewelry Andy showered you in.

You supposed that maybe that meant something, maybe during your little back and forth a few hours prior when he had accused you of being spoiled, he was onto something. Regardless, the only person who could be blamed for that was him.

You almost got lost in the diamonds on your hand when Andy reached out to you, pulling some hair over your shoulder. You looked up at him, he was smiling softly. “I’m sorry, did you say something?”

“Are you ready to go?”

He really didn’t like these parties; he was always the one that wanted to leave and would slyly place the blame on you. You were tired, you weren’t feeling well, you had a tough week and you just wanted to go home. You never minded because it wasn’t as if you got anything out of these parties either, and if that was the easiest way to pull him out of there, so be it. It was Sunday anyway, he had to work tomorrow and you had to go over your weekly schedule with him before the night was over.

“Sure.”

It started as a quiet drive, just like it always did, but then he placed his hand on your thigh. You glanced at him, arching an eyebrow. He simply smirked and kept his gaze on the road. You opened your legs wide, guiding two of his fingers inside you. “Can you feel your cum in me?”

“Not enough.”

“You’re the one that made me stand for almost an hour.”

“I’ll fill you up again before you go to class tomorrow.”

You snorted. “Lucky me.”

He shot you a look. “Oh, you don’t like it?”

“Never said that.”

“Well, if you don’t, I don’t need to—”

“I was kidding,” you whined.

He gave you a look, pretending he was unconvinced. “You’ve had an attitude all night.”

“You spanked me,” you reminded. The memory, the sore feeling on your ass whenever you sat down, had kept you wet all night. “Hard.”

“You talked back.”

You had because you wanted him to spank you. The first time he had, it was quite the discovery. It was after a drink, after you were feeling a little daring. He told you no, and you really hated when he did that. You couldn’t even remember what you had said, but it was bad, it was enough to get your skirt torn down, you bent over his knee, and well, the rest was a blissful blur.

This time it was because he was in a mood. You were getting dressed and he was watching you and that always meant something. You weren’t sure what exactly, but there were a few things you picked up on with Andy. When he wanted to be in control, he didn’t necessarily just want you to submit completely. When he gave you a look, you knew that he wanted you to fight just a bit. So, he told you to wear a specific dress and you refused initially. Cue the spanking. After your whole body felt hot and flushed and your legs were shaking and your cunt was dripping, you obliged, and he was so damn smug about it.

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, because my fingers are inside you and you want me to make you come.”

“Well…yes.”

He laughed and you couldn’t help but smile. You loved the sound of it. Andy so rarely laughed but you took it to mean that he felt comfortable enough around you. “If you can be patient, I’ll fuck you when we get home.”

Home. His home. Whatever. “And if I can’t?”

“Then you’re going to have to wait until the morning and I might not feel like letting you come. Deal?”

You nodded. “Deal.”

But he didn’t play fair. He drove slower than usual, fingers still buried inside you, and he moved them. A lot. He tried to cover it with stupid things, like driving over a pothole or making a sharp turn. If you moved your hips once, just barely, you lost. So, you sat there, completely still, gripping the seat like it was a lifeline.

Upstairs, you waited for him to make the rounds. Jacob wasn’t there, thankfully, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t been there earlier. Andy went around every door and window and made sure they were locked.

In that time, you got undressed and waited for him. You had a couple of red marks across your ass that you could see in the mirror on the opposite end of the bedroom. He always liked seeing your skin marked up in some way if he was the reason.

When he entered the room, you were sitting on the edge of the bed. “Stand up.”

You quickly did so, turning your back to him so he could see your ass. His palms lightly felt along the marked skin there. “It doesn’t hurt.”

He rarely asked, but you found that he fucked you better when he knew for sure. You just started letting him know and it seemed he trusted you enough to voice any boundaries you had if he ever crossed them.

One hand slowly trailed up your spine and slid across to your shoulder. He pressed you down quickly and you caught yourself on the mattress with both hands. You could hardly stay still as you heard his belt and zipper.

He easily pushed into you, body flush against yours. He let you adjust around him, staying perfectly still as he leaned over you and kissed your back, neck, and shoulders. Andy didn’t move until you angled your hips and pressed back a little more, whimpering nonsense.

This was so unlike the two times earlier. In the closet, after he spanked you, he sat you on top of his lap and made you ride him. At the party, in the bathroom, he stood you in front of the mirror and gently fucked you until he had filled you with his cum. This was fast, rough, and maybe a little detached if you really thought about it.

Andy took your waist in both hands and held you in place as he pounded into you relentlessly. Slapping skin, your soaking wet pussy, the bed banging against the wall on his particularly hard thrusts, these had become noises you were more than used to, noises you had grown to crave. Being with Andy was never supposed to be like this, but you didn’t have a single complaint.

You buried your face in the blankets, hands clutching tight at the sheets around you as your muffled screams filled the room. You knew he was close when his hands began to wander. One carded through your hair and pressed you down more, the other moved under you to reach your clit.

“You were such a good girl in the car.”

Your response was unintelligible, but yes. You had been more than just good. You had waited for him even though he was being a tease, and now, you wanted what he owed you. Which he didn’t deny you, not for a second.

He made you come. Once. Twice. Maybe three times. But after that, it was all just nonsense, satisfying, endless nonsense. He was still holding you by the hair, but he’d turned your head so you could breathe, and he was still circling his fingers around your clit.

Your back arched, allowing him in deeper—one of the tells of your approaching orgasm. You felt your pussy tighten around his fingers and began begging him to let you come. Even in this hazy, fucked-out state, you wanted to please him, you wanted his praise and approval.

He gave you permission like he always did and fully intended to fuck you through it. He only paused because he felt you spilling down his thighs, felt the wet sheets against his skin, heard light drops on the hardwood floor. Fuck.

He pulled you against him immediately, your sweat-slicked back to his chest. One arm draped across your chest, the opposite hand wrapped around your neck. You were watching him, eyes clear with curiosity. “You just squirted, princess.”

You blinked and attempted to voice your confusion. Problem was, his hips were still moving. You had no time to recover and there was no chance your brain had at making sense of anything in that moment.

“It was fucking hot and you’re going to do it again.”

Needless to say, you skipped classes the next day.

Andy liked to celebrate the monthly anniversaries.

He was big on creating traditions, you assumed that was just that part of him that had been hardwired to crave a normal family. He hadn’t told you much about his life and you didn’t want to pry—his dad wasn’t around and his mom had been but she died when he was pretty young. He shared this only after he asked about your parents.

The most personal he had ever gotten with you was one night when he had intended to take advantage of your drunk and thoroughly fucked state, obviously convinced that you wouldn’t remember the question in the morning. Do you believe in love?

It was weird given the setting and that you and Andy simply didn’t talk like that. It was dangerous because this could never be more than it was. You were both only allowed feelings of lust, maybe even obsession, but nothing of the usual sense. And Andy was so strict and controlled, you were surprised he would cross any sort of line.

You tried to play it off, tried to tell him that you had more important things to worry about. He didn’t like that response. He pressed because he was just like that, his career was all about pressing and sometimes, he brought it home. You ended up telling him that you viewed marriage as a waste of time. Your parents divorced, all your aunts and uncles, even the younger friends who got married out of high school were on the fast track to messy court dates and vicious custody battles. You also pointed out his situation. If someone as perfect as him couldn’t stay married, no one could.

It was then that he told you the happiest moments of his life were carving pumpkins or decorating the Christmas tree with Jacob. He had loved Valentine’s Day with Laurie, he was the one that had always insisted on doing something. He even looked forward to the smaller holidays, Independence Day, Memorial Day, any day that got Jacob out of school and him an extra day off so they could have a cookout in the backyard.

It wasn’t his intent, but it had sort of created a barrier between you two. You wished he still had his family even if that meant never meeting him. He was that kind of man, a good man, and you could tell that it weighed on him every day that he no longer had his perfect family.

He’d never pictured his life like this, a failed marriage, a child separated between his parents. He never would have entertained the idea of needing someone like you. He didn’t say that last part, but you knew. Sometimes, it was just in the way he looked at you. You feared he would grow to resent you one day, but you always tried to push that thought far away.

Regardless, the distance was there and he realized it even if he didn’t say it. There was also the matter that school had just let out meaning you had zero excuses for saying no to him when he proposed the trip to New York that would coincide with the 7-month mark of your relationship.

You’d never been and you’d always wanted to see Moulin Rouge on Broadway. He’d decided to drive to New York because you had once made the mistake of telling him you hated airports. It was a short road trip, one you weren’t entirely unwelcoming of. Especially not when he kept his hand on your thigh most of the time. It was late when you made it to the hotel and surprisingly, he had no issues with you diving straight into bed.

The morning was quite different. The hotel window had a perfect view of the city and he felt inclined to fuck you against it as soon as you both woke up. Then, he wanted to take you shopping. For nearly two entire days, he spoiled the hell out of you. Anywhere you wanted to go, he would take you. Anything you glanced at, he wanted to buy it for you.

On the night of the show, he finally took you to Victoria’s Secret. You’d seen pictures of it before, but you had not anticipated how beautiful it would look in person. You went crazy, you took him to the fitting room and tortured him on every single floor with both clothing and lingerie. Several hours had been devoted to teasing him and he let you know that after the show, you would regret your decisions.

Before you managed to get him back to the hotel so you could get ready, he needed to spend another awful amount of money on you. There was a jewelry shop just down the street from Victoria’s Secret and he couldn’t let you leave the state—as he claimed when he saw you frown—without at least one diamond.

You wanted nothing, but you knew the chances of him allowing that were nonexistent. So, you told yourself to keep it small, but one thing that had become a harsh reality since you met Andy: you were a sad, pathetic victim to larger, shinier diamonds. You immediately fell in love with a short string of sizable heart-shaped diamonds, the one larger heart dangling in the center is what had caught your eye.

Regardless of this terrible habit you had developed—this feeling that you craved, the pure joy that you got from people knowing that Andy was buying you diamonds—you tried to protest when he caught you staring. You just wanted a bracelet, really. He rarely ever gave you bracelets.

Instead, he sent you off to get coffee. You knew exactly why that was. He often got rid of you when he was about to make decisions that he knew would make you feel bad. You wanted to refuse, but what was better? Blissful ignorance or sitting there just watching him toss out the money for that necklace?

Learning what Andy liked at Starbucks had been a process. He didn’t like his coffee sweet so that eliminated 90% of the menu. His home coffee was some brand you’d never even heard of, the shops he went to were all nearly older than him. He liked cappuccinos with extra espresso, but he preferred the straightforward coffee he would get anywhere else, so he claimed. However, you knew he liked pumpkin spice lattes. You planned to prove it the day they released them for the year.

When he came out, the bag in his hand was much larger than one that would be used for just a necklace. He smiled at the horrified look you shot him and claimed that he was given a great deal for the entire set.

While you were getting ready for the show, you realized that this was the most normal you had felt with Andy in a while. There had been tension that neither of you wanted to address, but this trip was making you realize just how stupid that tension was. One day, this was going to end. It was impractical to think an arrangement like this was going to have a long shelf-life.

Shouldn’t you just enjoy it? Being here with him was fun. You liked the city and all the noise and bustle. You also liked being with him away from home and the lives you two had created long before you met one another. This was just you two, isolated together. Normally, you couldn’t ask that of him. He had his job and he was a father and you understood that completely, but you liked this.

During the show, Andy whispered to you several times. He couldn’t wait to be fucking you. He couldn’t wait to taste you. He couldn’t wait to hear you scream and cry and beg. He placed your hand over his lap just so you could feel how hard he was.

Back at the hotel, and maybe it was because of all that he had said, you didn’t want to tease. Almost immediately, you stripped completely naked—fuck all of that expensive lingerie, apparently.

He finally gave you your diamonds. He started with the necklace and you couldn’t even be upset. It fit you so well, you loved seeing it against your skin, you loved seeing how he looked at you while you were wearing it. Then, he gave you the matching bracelet. You had said you wanted a bracelet, right? You couldn’t complain. The earrings, you told yourself, were fine because you didn’t have a pair of diamond earrings yet.

You felt weighed down by these diamonds but not in a bad way. You felt tied to him, owned like you were one of his prized possessions. It was temporary, you reasoned, so was there any real harm in that? He watched you climb off the bed he had ordered you on mere minutes ago, arching an eyebrow as you lowered to your knees before him.

Andy rarely had the patience to let you go down on him, despite loving the feeling. Mostly, his main source of pleasure came from the things he could make you feel. He also couldn’t understand what you got out of letting him fuck your mouth. You weren’t much of a fan before Andy, you could admit since you had a total of zero pleasant experiences, but you felt that this was your only way of spoiling him.

It was nonnegotiable tonight, you would throw a fit if needed. You looked up at him for a moment, almost asking for permission. But not quite, maybe more for compliance. His promise was made by unzipping his pants for you and then letting his hands fall to his sides.

You took him out of his pants and opened your mouth. Staring up at him again, you took as much of him as you could. He was fine until he felt you gag, then his jaw set and his hands became fists.

“Fuck,” he breathed.

Moaning around him, you slowly pulled back. One of his hands disappeared in your hair before you could get too far. He had to keep you there for a moment, attempting to calm himself down because he could tell how much you wanted this.

He brought his hand forward, touching your cheekbone. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He slipped his fingers under your jaw and thrust his hips forward gently. He didn’t go too deep and it was at a torturous pace that he pulled out. This man’s control was one of the sexiest things about him. It made him seem so powerful and stable and that was what you craved more than anything in this world.

“Touch yourself,” he directed.

Your hand dove down, two fingers instantly burying inside your pussy. You moaned loudly around him and he cursed again.

“You want me to fuck your face?”

You nodded as well as you could.

He nodded, taking another deep breath. His hold under your face tightened just a bit, thumb and fingers pressing into your jaw. He didn’t thrust, instead, he moved you with his hand. Each time he brought you down on him, he made sure to choke you a little because he knew you liked it.

By the time he was close, your jaw was sore, made worse by his tight hold, your ribs hurt from how hard you had been gagging, the back of your throat was testament that he had lost it a couple of times, and went a bit harder than he meant to. Your entire hand was wet, your thighs shaking and your hips still rolling.

He told you to come with him, told you he wasn’t going to until you did. You pressed the heel of your palm down on your clit and fucked your hand harder. Andy brought you down as far as your throat would allow and held you there, moaning as you attempted to swallow around him.

His hand slid down to your neck and he began to squeeze when he knew you were close, hips moving fast and sloppy. You placed one hand on his thigh to keep yourself balanced, turning your gaze up to him once more.

You felt him start to spill down your throat. He moved harder, hips jerking and cock slamming into the back of your throat each time. The cum that was in your mouth was now beginning to slip out from the sides of your lips.

He pulled out before he was done, one hand in your hair to angle your head back, his other hand stroking his cock as his cum leaked out along your jaw and neck. “God damn, you are fucking gorgeous.”

You stared at him as the tip of your tongue came out to the corner of your mouth where you felt some of his cum.

Immediately, he pulled you onto your feet and shoved you back onto the bed. He was on top of you instantly, using his fingers to collect his cum off your skin so he could feed it to you. As you laid there, licking his fingers, he brought his opposite hand down to your pussy.

“I love feeling your cunt after you’ve just finished.” He teased you several times, just dipping the tips of his fingers in before he pushed two inside you.

You whimpered, lips closed around his fingers. Once he pulled them out, your mouth was free to speak, which was rarely ever a good thing when you two were in bed. “Well, are you going to get inside me, or did you need a minute?”

He arched an eyebrow—it didn’t bother him when you joked about his age, but he pretended it was grounds for true punishment. “Maybe I need several minutes, I guess I just have to keep you coming until then, huh?”

You hummed in protest.

He brought his hand up to grab your jaw, wet fingers pressing tightly into your skin. His lips hovered over yours as he asked, “You’re such a fucking brat, you know that?”

You smiled. “Yes.”

He scoffed. “You’re shameless. I don’t know how you got this bad.”

But he did know, and he would do whatever he possibly could to ensure that you would just get worse. Andy’s success was measured by your bratty episodes. It showed how comfortable you had become with him but also just how much you wanted him.

For the record, you weren’t accusing Andy of being some evil mastermind who had planned this whole…ordeal. That would be insane because it would imply a lot of things that you knew were simply not true about him. He wasn’t a bad person, he was actually one of the best that you had ever met.

But…he was a lawyer. He had picked up some bad habits that came along with that. That meant, that though he didn’t plan this, he was enjoying it thoroughly. In short, you were accusing him of being an opportunist.

The first time you met Andy, he had brought Jacob to that hellhole of a restaurant you used to work at. So, technically Jacob knew you, but he was on his phone the entire time and they were low-maintenance customers, so he’d maybe seen you for a total of 5 minutes over their 2-hour stay. Andy did come back and bring Jacob several times, but it was always the same. He never paid you any mind, and why would he?

So, when you “met” him, half-naked and covered in bruises and bites—something that still made you glare at Andy if you thought about it too much—Jacob already knew you. He just didn’t know you. And after that one encounter, you couldn’t imagine what he thought of you.

This made you realize just how worried you were about how temporary you knew you were. Andy hadn’t said anything so you wondered if Jacob just didn’t tell Laurie. You wondered if she would even care if he had told her. Maybe Andy did this all the time, maybe she just couldn’t be bothered because they weren’t married anymore. You had no idea because Andy rarely spoke to you about Jacob and never spoke about Laurie.

Your grand solution was just trying to avoid Jacob at all costs. Mostly, you were successful, and Andy didn’t seem to mind, per se, but he did not encourage it. He loved his son and he didn’t want part of his life to be completely unknown to Jacob, but you kind of did.

It was one terrible morning when you were a bit hungover from the night before and Andy was making breakfast. He’d just set down a plate of pancakes in front of you, kissed you on top of the head because you were letting him baby you, when Jacob came in, so you didn’t even have an excuse to leave. It would be pathetically clear what you were doing. Were you seriously scared of a 17-year-old boy?

Yes. But you could pretend you weren’t, and you would pretend. There was no other choice. It wasn’t until you were all sitting down for the world’s most awkward breakfast that Andy’s phone rang. He often got calls in the morning and you never minded. Until then.

You shot him a threatening look that he clearly didn’t take seriously. He excused himself and with each step further away, your desire to suddenly die increased.

There was more painfully awkward silence and you wracked your brain for ways to fix it. You could ask him about school, his plans for the day. But that was the easy part. How were you going to word the question casually, unforced? You didn’t have to think on that much longer because he decided to speak first.

“Is my dad your, like, sugar daddy?”

And before you were subjected to having to respond, his friends showed up. Which was great because you couldn’t have formed a response if your life depended on it. But that shock had well worn off by the time Andy returned. He was throwing out apologies and explaining that he was being given an update on one of his cases. He seemed unaware of your silence until he realized Jacob was gone.

“Where’s Jake?”

“He left with his friends.”

“Oh.” He sat down at the table and you glared. “Come on, I didn’t know he was going to be here—”

“He just asked me if you’re my sugar daddy!”

“Well, I am.”

“You are not.”

He lifted his eyebrows. “Then what am I? I pay your bills, I buy you things, in return, you spend most of your free time with me. What does that make me?”

You were mad but not about the idea that he was your sugar daddy. Of course, you’d played with that phrase a few times, but it seemed so unrepresentative of your relationship. At least, to you. He clearly saw it that way, and maybe you weren’t even mad about that.

You might not have been mad at all, maybe just scared. You knew that Andy was in love with his ex-wife still and he always would be. She was this terrifying person that you’d never met that essentially held the cards to your life. You figured that if she expressed any anger towards Andy’s relationship with you, that you would be gone. You would have to go back to your life before, like when the carriage was a pumpkin. And the scariest part of that was not that you had no money. It was that you two would just be done as if you never even happened at all.

“Your boyfriend?” he pressed.

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever.”

“Don’t roll your eyes at me,” he warned.

“I’m going home.”

“No, you’re not.”

Once more, you rolled your eyes. You pushed away from the table and stormed out of the kitchen and to his bedroom.

He came in moments later after you had thrown his shirt on the bed. You were in nothing more than a pair of panties as you searched for where he’d tossed your clothes the night before. He shut the door and locked it, but you refused to respond to his tactics to make you talk.

“Get on the bed.”

You scoffed incredulously, turning over your shoulder to him with raised eyebrows. “Yeah, that’s not happening.”

His hand wrapped around one of your arms and he spun you back to him. You set your hands on his chest to push him away, but he pulled you in so tight that you couldn’t move. He kissed you like it had been years since he last did so, in reality, it had been a little over an hour. It was demanding and fast, he left you no room to protest, but it wasn’t like that mattered because with each passing second, you were giving in.

His free hand slid down between your legs and you broke the kiss to moan. Your head fell back, your body pressed closer to him. It wasn’t a surrender exactly, just a promise that you would get over it and never bring it up again.

But then he said, “Call me daddy.”

You froze, turning your head back to him. “What?”

“Call me daddy,” he repeated. “You want to come? Tell daddy how to make you come.”

It was just a matter of time before it was brought up. Unbeknownst to him, it was on your mind. Unbeknownst to you, it was on his. He hadn’t been the kind for it, then he met you. There was something primal inside him that was triggered when you would whimper and whine, when you were choking on his cock and staring up at him with your beautiful eyes, when you were crying his name. And sometimes, it didn’t completely sound unlike daddy. When you were breathless and fucked good, and nearly mindless. Sometimes, it was close enough that it made him wonder what it would be like.

And you’d been curious too. Ever since he spanked you the first time. You saw Andy as this powerful, good man. He was perfect and didn’t even know it. But all of that was what everyone could see. There were these dark parts of him that made you wet just thinking about. You would never tell him, but once, just one time, he was busy and couldn’t see you one weekend. Meaning you had to take care of yourself. Your dreams were vivid and filthy, and you might have called him daddy in one…so, yeah.

“I’m not going to touch you if you can’t follow orders, princess.”

It took you a moment to find your voice, especially with the way he was looking down at you. “I…don’t know…” It felt weird, like you were admitting this terrible secret. You were aware he had asked you to, but it still felt wrong. Kind of.

“Well,” his fingers slid over you again, a teasing touch that was too light for any real relief, “do you want daddy’s fingers?”

You nodded.

“What about daddy’s cock?”

“Yes.”

“Or maybe daddy’s mouth?” He kissed your forehead first, then your cheek, and finally all over your neck. “Hmm?”

“Yeah, that’s what I want.”

“You know what I want,” he pointed out, pulling back to look at you. “Tell me what you want first.”

He was not letting you out of this and did you actually want him to? Andy was a complete daddy. He spoiled the hell out of, almost literally got off on taking care of you, and he was a kind, beautiful man who had no problems fucking you like he hated you.

“Will you eat my pussy, Daddy?”

Wordlessly, he sat you down on the bed and pushed you onto your back by your shoulders. His eyes on yours, he took you with his mouth over your panties and any doubts you had about this just faded away.

Your breath was shaking as he held you down, his hands gripping your arms tight. You draped your legs over his shoulders and pulled him closer. He pressed his tongue flat against you each time he licked up your aching cunt. “Oh, god,” you blurted out when you felt him at your clit.

He turned his head, nipping at your thigh. It was a prompt.

“Daddy,” you breathed, and he returned his mouth to you. “Daddy, please.”

He hummed. What are you asking for?

“Please, take them off,” you begged.

His fingers slipped under the band of your underwear and he tore them into pieces, without any skill whatsoever, as his tongue sought out bare skin. You’d heard several tears by the time his tongue was inside you.

You arched your back and grabbed a hold of his hair with both hands. He almost instantly took your hands and held them down to the bed again. “Daddy, don’t stop. Please don’t stop. Please make me come.”

He pulled your clit between his lips and you knew that you weren’t going to last much longer. You knew this was your biggest loss so far. He was never going to let you forget that you’d come up here throwing a fit, trying to push him away, only to beg him to eat you out.

Your hips rolled against his face, he seemed surprised for a moment, but he moaned against you, so you kept doing it. “Can I come, Daddy? Please?”

He hummed again, a confirmation.

When you moved instead of waiting for him, you could feel his beard. That was the only reason you kept canting your hips up to meet the swipes of his tongue that were toeing the line of being too good.

He let his tongue drop down to tease your entrance, earning a frustrated whine from you. Your clit wasn’t neglected for long, you felt the tip of his nose hovering just right there. So, if you were to move, if you bucked your hips just right, you discovered quickly just how to get the right kind of pressure there.

Andy loved every second of it, he loved the smell of you and the taste of you, and he knew he was never going to be a better position to indulge in both. You were wild even though he was pinning you down, you were hardly ever this desperate, this upfront with your desire. It was the sexiest thing he ever witnessed.

You finished on his tongue and he let no drop of you go to waste. He was selfish in the way he ran his mouth along the oversensitive parts of you. Before reality had even made its way back to you, he’d placed you on your knees before him. Your body was moving without your brain, like pure instinct. Your mouth opened for him before you even knew you were on the floor and you took him in as deep as you could.

He took a handful of your hair and held you in place, hips slowly, gently moving back and forth. You were gagging around him but he was letting you get used to it, telling you that you were such a good girl, reminding you how well you knew how to suck his cock, how you’d always been so good at it.

He didn’t want to come in your mouth, he just wanted to get close. He threw you down on the bed just as soon as he’d gotten you back on your feet and then he was on top of you. His hand wrapped around your neck as he slotted his hips between your thighs.

His eyes locked on yours, he slowly sunk into you. It was damn near painful the kind of restraint he was using, how he was denying you that fast kind of fucking he knew you loved. He pulled back, using his knees for balance, and kept his hold on your throat.

His thrusts were too gentle, several agonizing times, until you were squirming and whimpering. He didn’t seem concerned with what you wanted then, he merely kept his eyes moving over your body.

“Andy,” you complained.

He tsked. “Baby girl.”

“Daddy,” you corrected instantly. “Daddy, please. I need you to fuck me.”

Instead, he leaned back down and kissed you. He started at your mouth and then moved to your jaw. His hips barely moved, just enough to keep you on this edge of murderous rage. Seriously? After what you just went through? He wasn’t going to fuck you to make it up to you?

He sat back again and tightened his hand when you opened your mouth. It was the nicest way he was ever going to tell you to shut up, but he was telling you to. You were too scared to show any signs of disobedience at this point.

He pulled out and you whined unintelligibly. You received nothing more than a brief ‘hush’ before he was laying down next to you. He was on his side, propping one of your legs over his hip as he slid back into you. He lifted you up so you could lay your head on his bicep and used that arm to grab your opposite thigh, pulling it out to the side so you were completely open for him.

“Daddy,” you mewled. You couldn’t keep doing this, you needed to come. You needed him to make you come. He dragged his cock out and then shoved back in, earning a strangled yelp from you. You brought both hands up to hold the forearm that was still pressed between your breasts.

It was then that he started this horrible pattern of fucking you hard, hard, until you were just about to come. You would be shaking, begging like you never had before, promising you would never talk back to him again, and then he would just stop.

He never denied your orgasm. If anything, he just threatened to, didn’t follow through, then made weak threats that he would next time. It was a nice routine and you weren’t sure why he wanted to ruin it.

He told you to leave your thigh where it was and then brought that hand up. He started at your mouth, he ordered you to close your lips around his fingers. He was choking you still and now gagging you and you were abruptly lightheaded. He’d never given you a safe word, you were sure he never intended to go too far. The idea that he might, though… Ugh.

He pulled his fingers from your mouth and they were soaking wet because he didn’t give you the chance to swallow. He dragged them down your body, stopping to pinch one of your nipples painfully until you gasped, and then down to your pussy.

Tears filled your eyes immediately as he pressed his fingers down on your clit. He kissed the side of your face several times before stating, “I can’t keep giving you what you want if you’re going to be such a brat, baby.”

“I’m not being a brat,” you protested.

“You’re not?”

“No.”

“Okay,” he scoffed. His fingers began to rub circles into you.

You shot him a desperate look. “Daddy, please I need you to make me come.”

He arched an eyebrow, hips still but hand moving. “Oh, you need me to?”

“No one else makes me come like you do.” It was clear that you were just saying anything you could think to make him give in. True? Yes. But were the words sincere? Not at all, and you didn’t want him to know that. Yes, you liked spending time with Andy, you even loved fucking him, but this was not a relationship. It was an arrangement first and you had to protect yourself.

He rolled his eyes at you. “Transparent.”

You let your head fall back into the pillow with an exaggerated sigh. “Please?”

“No.”

You looked at him instantly, eyebrows pulling together. “What?”

“No,” he repeated slowly.

He’d never just told you no. Maybe in a roundabout way, he’d talked his way through the fact of no, but never once had he just out and said it. You had no idea how to reply. After all, he was in charge here. If he said no, did you have to accept it?

He brought his fingers down to where your bodies were connected and pulled out completely. He dipped his fingers into you at the same time he was easing his cock back in.

You bit down on your lip, willing yourself to relax. He was always a tight fit, even without the addition of two of his thick fingers, even on those weeks when he fucked you every day, numerous times a day.

“You’re okay,” he promised. “You can take it.”

You tried spreading your legs even more, hoping that would make him easier to take.

“Good girl.” He pulled his cock and fingers out briefly before working them both back in simultaneously. “How’s it feel, baby?”

“It hurts a little.”

“But you can take it, can’t you?” He kissed along your cheekbone. “You want it, right? Because you’re my good girl.”

You were nodding before you even truly thought about it. You wanted anything he wanted to give you, in reality. You supposed this was not the exception to that rule.

He continued pulling out and teasing back in, going just a little deeper each time.

Your cunt was aching by the time you propped yourself up on your elbows to see. The sight of him inside you was sinful and delicious.

He felt you flutter around him and kissed the side of your face again. “You like when I stretch you out, baby?”

You nodded. That was exactly how you felt. Stretched. It still hurt but not in any kind of way that you didn’t like. Your cheeks were flushed since he’d been denying you a finish, otherwise, you would be blushing terribly. It was a toe-in-the-water of humiliation, you felt a little objectified, or reduced to a single body part. Again, not something you were opposed to because your mind was fucked up enough that your body would respond ecstatically to anything Andy wanted to do to it.

“Do you want another one?”

You weren’t sure, but that didn’t stop you from claiming you did. You watched the tip of his third finger collect the slick on the base of his cock and slide into you. He began pulling out and gently pushing both fingers and cock back in until he was buried several inches and two knuckles into your pussy.

“You are soaked, baby.”

Part of you hated that. How bratty could you be from here on out if you were this wet for him? If your cunt was literally begging him for more of his fingers? That was the pride part of you. The sick part of you stopped to think about how he had 7 more fingers to fuck you with, if he wanted. “Can I have another?”

He smirked. “I think 3 is enough tonight, princess. I don’t want to hurt you too much.”

“I want all your fingers inside me, daddy.”

He scoffed. “Not sure that’s possible, you’re still so tight. But I do have a little more I can give you.” As he pressed more of his fingers in, beyond that second knuckle which made you gasp and squirm because it burned, he also gave you more of his cock.

You were shaking, hand settling on his forearm once more. “Oh, daddy…I feel so full.”

“And your desperate cunt still wants more?”

“Anything from you, daddy. Can I please come?”

He didn’t answer, his hips merely began moving. He roughly fucked into you as he pulled just so with his fingers to keep you painfully stretched.

You were getting close again. That stinging sensation was starting to fade away with the building pleasure. When he angled his hand and let his thumb massage your clit, you knew you wouldn’t last much longer. “Daddy, please.”

“You can’t come.”

You whined. “Daddy!”

“I said no.”

You pressed your hand to his stomach to still his hips, but he paid you no mind. “Daddy, I’m going to come.”

“You better not,” he warned, but didn’t do anything to help you want that. If anything, his hips snapped a bit harder.

“Please stop, daddy,” you begged, voice pathetically small and whiny. You didn’t care how you sounded or looked, you just didn’t want to come without him letting you. You didn’t want to disappoint him. “Daddy, I’m close. Please stop.”

He scoffed, free hand coming up to your face. “You’re such a good girl, you know that?”

You frantically shook your head. You weren’t so good that you wouldn’t come, so really, you needed him to stop.

“You don’t want to come without my permission?”

“No, daddy.”

He pressed his thumb down harder and rubbed faster, earning an unintelligible, sad sound from you. “It’s okay, baby girl, you can come. Daddy wants to feel you coming around his cock.”

You lifted your hand back up to his arm, trying to turn into his body as much as you could. He understood immediately and moved his hold from your neck to drape his arm across you, resting his hand on your back. You set your head in the bend of his neck as you started to come.

He groaned when he felt you get tighter. “That’s it, baby. That’s what I wanna feel.”

Tears were rolling down your cheeks by the time you were coming. Your body had never felt relief so strong. Andy shushed you through it all and told you that you were so good and didn’t stop until he had you filled with his cum.

He let you settle before urging you onto your back. “You okay, baby?”

“Yes, daddy.” You were more than just okay. You were sated and aching, you were exhausted and blissful. It had been a while since he’d spent so much time on you and you felt good, doted on, paid attention to.

He carefully pulled his fingers from your cunt, eyeing your face as he did, but then quickly took your jaw in one hand and shoved the fingers into your mouth. You instantly began sucking on them. “A few things. First, you do not roll your eyes at me. Second, you do not leave the table unless I tell you that you can. Third, do not ever walk away from me. Fourth, when I tell you to get your ass on the bed, you better get your ass on the bed. Are we clear?”

You nodded, speaking around his fingers.

“Glad to hear it.” He slowly extracted his fingers, massaging your jaw with the opposite hand. “When you can walk again, I’ll take you shopping—”

You hurriedly jumped out of bed, rushing for the shower. “I’ll be ready in an hour!”

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nightbts · 4 years

Text

through the night | jjk | 04

pairing: jeon jungkook + stylist! reader

word count: 3.5k

genre: fluff, angst + idol! au, friends to lovers! au

parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

listen to this playlist while reading!

best of friends. that’s what you and jungkook were. as their stylist for several years now, you and jungkook got along like no other and over time developed a friendship that was special to the two of you. but what happens when an IU collaboration deal, a jealous childhood-best friend and secret feelings get intertwined with the simple life you thought you were living?

Hearing Yoongi’s soft laughter ring through the filming studio, you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh yourself, shaking your head in amusement.

The boys had been filming for their recent BTS Run episode. Once they all changed into pajamas, they were taking a thirty-minute nap on what appeared to be one of the comfiest bean bags you had ever seen before waking up to complete a mission.

But here you were, watching as the rest of the members got up one by one, Jungkook sat up from the floor as he long rolled off the bean bag during the 30 minutes he was asleep, his eyes still closed, hair ruffled up and lips forming a pout.

Sighing softly, a warm smile spread across your face. The sight was undeniably cute.

But there you stood, hidden behind all the cameramen and women and their equipment, doing everything in your power to stop yourself from going up to him and cuddling the shit out of him.

After several comments and nags from the rest of the members who were trying to complete the song challenge, Jungkook finally got up and participated with the rest.

Soon enough, the filming wrapped up with Jin, Jimin, and J-Hope losing and having to complete the penalty. As the rest of the production crew started to pack up their equipment, you decided to head back to the dressing room knowing the boys would be there any moment.

“Y/N!”

Turning around at the sound of your voice, you were suddenly met with Jungkook’s face nearly inches away from yours, a wide grin on his face as he waved furiously at you. Taken aback, your eyes widened in surprise as you stumbled back, startled by the sudden movement. However, as your foot accidentally tripped over a cord, the sudden motion caused you to lose your footing.

It was as if everything were happening in slow motion. As your eyes squeezed close, a soft yelp slipped past your lips as your hands flew outward instinctively, grabbing at thin air.

Anticipating the cold hard floor, you suddenly felt something grip your waist, pulling you back up so fast that you felt your nose brush his—Jungkook’s.

As your eyes shot open, you blinked furiously as your eyes landed on Jungkook’s doe-shaped eyes, wider than your own as they gazed intently at you, shock written in them as clear as day. However, all you could really focus on was how close he was: his arms that wrapped tightly around your waist as his warm breath fanned your face, his nose was still brushing yours sending tingles down your spine.

Finally snapping back into reality, you placed your hand on his chest as you pushed him away slightly. A burst of nervous laughter quickly bubbled up your throat, your heart racing a mile a minute as you squeaked, “T-Thanks!”

Blinking at you slowly, you noticed a slight flush to Jungkook’s cheeks, his face just as flustered as your own. The sight had your stomach somersaulting in your body; it was a look you had never seen on him. However, within seconds it disappeared and was replaced with a look you were all too familiar with. It was almost like the Jungkook you just saw didn’t even exist.

Crinkling his brows together, he shot you a playful look before carelessly waving his hand in the air, “You’re always so clumsy, you know that?”

Scoffing, you retorted, “How did you expect me to react when you popped out of nowhere?!”

“Valid.”

Walking into the dressing room together, you noticed most of the boys were already back, some lounging on the couch and others starting to get ready for their next scheduled activity of the day. It almost made you a little sad, seeing just how much they had going on almost all the time. But you knew, that no matter how hard, how long the hours, they were happy and grateful for it all.

Making your way towards your designated station for the day, you started taking out all the products you needed. Setting them out in orderly fashion on the table, you turned towards Jungkook, who had already started to strip out of his clothes, his bare back facing your direction. Quickly turning the other direction, so he wouldn’t notice the bright flush of your cheeks, you quickly asked, “Your meeting with IU today aren’t you?”

Turning around slightly, he gave you a quick nod before swiftly putting a sweatshirt over his head, “Yeah, over Skype? In an hour I think?”

Motioning over to your chair, you said, “Let me fix your hair up before you go. I know you only napped for thirty minutes but you look like you were asleep for days.”

Frowning, the boy looked at himself in the mirror before running his fingers through his hair, attempting to fix the mess that stood up in several different directions, before dropping his hands down in resignation.

Smirking, you turned back towards your workstation, grabbing your hair products out of your bag when you heard someone behind you go, “Well, look who’s here. I haven’t seen you all day.”

Looking to your side, your eyes narrowed at the figure beside you before muttering to yourself, “You know how it’s been lately...”

Giving you a pointed look, Jiho added, “I can tell. Your eye bags look as boujee as Gucci.”

Glaring at him, you turned you attention towards the mirror in front of you. You slowly frowned you stared at your reflection, suddenly self-conscious as you examined the dark circles beneath your eyes.

He was right. You didn’t look too good.

Sighing softly, your eyes fluttered close as you felt the wave of tiredness wash over you.

The last couple of weeks were rough, and that was putting it lightly.

Being on tour meant a lot of work, and was something you had completely underestimated. Life as a stylist was hectic and busy enough when you were back home, but traveling around the world and handling different timezones while working as a stylist, trying to complete your goddamn online degree and studying for all the finals that were piling up in the next couple weeks? It was absolutely exhausting.

But honestly? You felt like you couldn’t complain. Not when you were working with some of the most hard-working people you knew. Not when you knew they were probably getting much less sleep than you were. And every time you did feel like you were struggling, you felt like shit for even thinking it.

“Y/N...” Jiho started with a sigh.

He knew exactly what you were going through, even if you never put them into words for him. It was like a constant cycle that he had witnessed you go through, over and over again. In high school, you juggled two part-time jobs, volunteered at an orphanage, while still acing all your classes and exams by studying your ass off for them. Then came college and you worked weekends at the local cafe, weekdays at the library while Jiho would find you asleep in various places across campus. And now? Nothing had changed. You were still trying to do it all because that’s how you had always been.

Looking up at Jiho, you waited for the routine words you’d always hear from him, his lectures that scolded you for being up so late, for working too hard but instead, he said...

“You’re amazing, you know that?”

Blinking at him, you cocked your head sideways before shooting him an amused look, “Did I just hear that right? Did the Kang Jiho just call me amazing?!”

Rolling his eyes, he walked closer towards you before he engulfed you into his embrace, his arms wrapping tightly against your body as he pulled you into a reassuring hug. Whispering into the side of your head, he sighed, “You never take anything seriously, do you?”

Patting him on his back, you chuckled, “Alright, you goon. I get it. I’m incredibly grateful you think I'm amazing, but I still have work to do—”

Hearing the sudden noise of someone clearing their throat, you pulled away from Jiho, your eyes falling on Jungkook who was sitting in the chair in front of you. As his eyes flickered between the both of you, his lips pursed into a thin line before his gaze met your eyes through the mirror, a certain blankness to them.

“Hey Jungkook, how ya been?” Jiho asked pulling Jungkook’s attention back to him.

“Same old. Tired, but gotta keep going right?” Jungkook replied with a slight shrug, “How about you, hyung?”

“I could say the same. I’m sure Y/N could too, right Y/N?”

Shooting Jiho a quick glare, you scowled at him before shaking your head in denial, “Nah, I’m doing alright, don’t worry—”

“What does that mean? Are you alright?” Jungkook asked with a frown, when you noticed Jungkook’s gaze back on you again, this time growing with worry.

Your gaze softened at the boy in front of you, as you gave him a small nod. Resting your hands on Jungkook’s shoulder, you bent down so that you hovered close to his face, meeting his gaze through the mirror. Giving his shoulders a gentle squeeze, you assured, “I’m alright, don’t worry about me...besides, you have a lot more important things to worry about.”

After that, you expected him to simply nod and drop the conversation but instead, you saw his brows furrow together, his frown only deepening. He sat there like that, for a couple of seconds, before a flash of hesitation crossed his eyes.

“Jungkook—?”

“Y/N...How could I not worry about you?”

Lips parting, you stood back up as your grip on his shoulder faltered. The both of you stared at each other through the mirror, your gazes unwavering for what felt like too long. Yet, your mind was racing, as it took in every sound, of every letter of the words that came out of Jungkook’s mouth.

How could I not worry about you?

You should’ve said something immediately. You should’ve laughed it off, retorted with a sarcastic comment and moved on from it. But, for some reason, you couldn’t. After all, it wasn’t like he said something ridiculous like confessing his love for you? He just said he worried about you. That doesn’t mean anything. You guys were friends anyway, and friends obviously cared for each other, right?

Before you could dwell on your dangerous thoughts any longer, the door to the room swung open as you saw Manager Sejin poke his head through it. Scanning the room, his eyes quickly fell upon you, Jungkook, and Jiho before he tapped his watch, “Jungkook! You gotta hurry, your meeting is in a couple minutes!” Looking back at you, he gave you a quick nod before leaving the room as fast as he came.

“A c-couple of minutes!” you squeaked, before quickly grabbing all the tools you needed in your hands and immediately getting to work.

“Alright, I’ll see you later.” you heard Jiho say, to which you simply nodded your head in response.

“You said you weren’t going to meet her until an hour from now,” you muttered, as you started brushing through Jungkook’s hair.

Chuckling slightly, Jungkook flashed you a sheepish grin, “That’s what I thought too.” to which you simply shook your head in defeat, your own lips tilting upwards into a smile.

And like that, the tension was gone.

You sat there on the couch, legs crisscrossed as you scrolled through Twitter on your phone. The more you scrolled, the more tweets you read of fans raving about the news of IU and Jungkook releasing a track together. Looking at the time, you realized it had been more than an hour since Jungkook had left to go have his Skype session with IU.

Feeling the couch sink beside you, Jimin plopped down next to you as he peered over your shoulder, “Whatcha looking at?”

“Twitter.”

“OMG our jungkookie singing with his all-time favorite female idol! UGh imagine if they fell for each other, it would be like a whole ass tumblr fanfiction come true!!!!” you heard Jimin read in a high-pitched voice, mimicking the fan who had posted that tweet.

Laughing across the room, Hoseok looked up from his phone before adding, his eyebrows wiggling, “Honestly, imagine that.”

Walking up to you, Taehyung peered over the other side of your shoulder as he read through the tweets you had just been reading yourself, “Wow, people are really going crazy for this collaboration, aren’t they?”

Shrugging your shoulders, you admitted, “I mean, all of ARMY knows how much Jungkook admires IU as an artist—”

“And as a person,” Jimin added, grinning cheekily.

Raising a brow at that, you looked at Jimin questioningly before he continued, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “Haven’t you heard? Apparently, the two of them have been texting a lot!”

This you knew, to some extent.

After all, every time Jungkook’s phone buzzed and you saw him grab his phone with a sense of urgency, you either watched his eyes light up with the excitement or seeing his expression fall in disappointment. At this point, you had a pretty good idea of who caused the former reaction out of him.

“So? Don’t they have to for the collab?”

“I mean, not as much as they currently are. We’ve all done our fair share of collabs with other artists, but most of the time we spoke over Skype with Manager Sejin there or texted important updates here and there. But from what Jungook showed me the other night, they’ve been having just normal conversations.” Jimin said, his voice heightening in excitement, “Imagine if our Jungkook really does sway IU’s heart? After all, he’s a charmer when it comes to noonas.”

Hearing that you felt yourself stiffen as Jimin’s words washed over you, one after the other. And there it was. The bad feeling that would reappear in the pit of your stomach, leaving you feeling uncomfortable whenever IU and Jungkook were mentioned in the same sentence.

Instead, you forced a bright look on your face before shoving Jimin playfully, “C’mon, you know that isn’t going to happen. They’re both too professional for that.”

“That is true, but you never know, do you?” you heard Taehyung say. Walking over to stand in front of you, he spread his hands in the air in a magical motion, “After all, love is love.”

At that, Taehyung and Jimin erupted into fits of laugher, while you just sat there awkwardly, feeling uncomfortable at the thought of there being anything between Jungkook and IU.

Yet, as soon as the thought appeared, you pushed it away, scolding yourself for even having it. I mean, it didn’t matter what you thought anyway. It was his life and you would support him regardless.

However, the sour look that you tried to mask on your face didn’t go unnoticed by someone else in the room.

Jiho would’ve found it amusing if it wasn’t for the sinking feeling he felt in his own stomach. Clearing his workstation of his things, he chuckled to himself at the mere thought of the complicated mess you and Jungkook were.

After all, it didn’t take a genius to realize there was something there between the two of you, even if you or Jungkook hadn’t realized it for yourselves. Even though he had known you for much longer than Jungkook had, Jiho knew the way you treated him was different. He could see it in everything, from the way your eyes brightened when you would talk to him or how you always leaned in towards him, whenever he stood by your side. And the biggest giveaway if anything, was how apparent your jealousy was, no matter how hard you’d try to hide it from everyone else.

The thing was...you weren’t the only one.

Ever since the plane ride from Seoul, Jungkook’s face was permanently imprinted in Jiho’s memory. He still remembered the way he caught Jungkook staring back at you and him, jealousy swimming in his eyes as clear as day. Even though Jiho had his doubts, he couldn’t help but be surprised.

Personally, Jiho didn’t know if Jungkook deserved you, worldwide pop-star or not.

All he knew was that you deserved the world and more. He had seen you broken-hearted over too many undeserving people in your life, and he wasn’t willing to see it again. He just hoped Jungkook wouldn’t be an addition to that list.

"Look who’s back~” Hoseok sang, causing you to snap your head up from your phone. Getting up from the couch, Jimin beamed as he walked towards Jungkook. Wrapping an arm around his shoulder, he ruffled Jungkook’s hair with his other hand as he grinned, “So, how was it?”

Even though you pretended to go back to looking at your phone, you couldn’t help but glance over the top of it, eagerly waiting for Jungkook’s response.

But the moment you saw the way his cheeks flushed in response, his eyes averting Jimin’s curious gaze, you felt a slight twinge in your heart. Biting down on your lip, you quickly averted your attention back to your phone, finding it far less heartbreaking than the scene in front of you.

Untangling himself free from Jimin’s hold, you saw Jungkook approach you from the corner of your eye, causing you to groan inwardly.

Yes, please bring the conversation over here. I’d love that!

Flashing you a quick look, Jungkook sat down beside you before finally answering Jimin’s question, “It was like the usual. We discussed the recordings and potential areas for adlibs. It’s just hard since we aren’t able to actually meet up and record together.”

Cocking his head to the side, Jimin hummed in apprehension before you noticed the mischievous glint in his eyes return, “And? What else, huh?”

Rolling his eyes in response, Jungkook grabbed one of the decorative pillows from the couch and smacked Jimin’s butt with it, causing the boy to yelp in surprise and earning a couple laughs from the members in the room.

“Hyung, I don’t know what you expect me to say,” Jungkook said with a laugh.

“You know what he means,” Taehyung piped up, wriggling his eyebrows at Jungkook, “You guys didn’t talk about anything else besides just the song?”

Shrugging nonchalantly, he mumbled, “I mean...that was what we talked the most about but I guess we also talked about how our tour was going, and I mentioned how I got hurt a couple weeks ago—”

Grinning from ear-to-ear, Taehyung teased, “Hey, isn’t that something you would talk about with someone you like~?”

Clenching your fists that currently laid in your lap, you bit down on your lip trying to prevent yourself from saying something you might come to regret.

“You two, stop acting so unprofessional.” you heard Namjoon say from the stylist’s chair. Spinning around to face the rest of you, he softly glared at the two 95-liners, before adding, “Don’t make unnecessary comments.”

“Exactly,” you muttered bitterly under your breath.

Ears perking up, Jimin instantly looked in your direction with a raised brow, “What was that Y/N?”

Taken aback, your head snapped up in surprise. At this point everyone in the room was looking at you, your cheeks growing hotter as the seconds passed by.

They had all heard you.

“W-what?” you stammered, eyes wavering slightly as you found your gaze suddenly falling on Jiho. You saw his lips slowly tug into a frown but before you could notice anything else, Jimin’s voice pulled your gaze back to him.

“You said 'exactly' with your face all serious-lookin’” Jimin replied, morphing his face into what you assumed was his imitation of how you looked.

However, how you looked fit into exactly one word: Jealous.

Eyes rounding, you felt you throat go dry, your lips unable for form any words as you simply stared at Jimin, a blank expression clouding your face.

"Y/N?"

"R-Right." you quickly faltered, trying to rack your brain for the right thing to say but at the moment you couldn't, no matter how hard you tried.

“I-I just..” you hesitated, as you sighed softly, "I-I'm just agreeing with Namjoon is all. I mean, quite frankly it's a little childish to think IU-ssi would have a crush on Jungkook. This is a professional collaboration, after all." you finished, the words flying past your lips one after the other.

"Childish?" you heard Jungkook whisper softly.

Tearing your gaze away from Jimin, your eyes widened. Jungkook who had been gazing intently at the floor beneath him, raised his head up slowly, his strong gaze meeting your confused eyes, before he gave you a tight-lipped smile, his jaw clenched, "Of course."

Standing up abruptly from the couch, he turned around so that his back faced you, "Hear that hyungs? It's childish, so stop making comments like that, alright?"

With that, Jungkook shrugged his jacket back on and grabbed his phone from the side table, before walking out the door, not sparing you another glance.

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cloveroctobers · 3 years

Text

• ROHAN WASTI•

IG info/bio: @/niceguyroasti | 175k followers | Just here for a bit of fun 🤹🏽‍♂️! They don’t call me the brown handstand king for nuthin, mate 🎪🤸🏽‍♂️

(23) 25 (26) years old

From Wolverhampton, England

Before you ask...no he’s never met Liam Payne but Rohan’s sure he’s a great lad. (He was asked this question in one of his lives, he secretly thinks it was talia from one of her secret burner stan accounts lol) He’s got a nice tune with a boogie w da hoodie that he likes??

Anyways...he’s of Pakistani heritage

His mother used to work for a printing press company until she along with 15 other employees were laid off back in Sargodha

She was out of work for months becoming a stay at home mom (which his father initially wanted)

While his father continued in ironwork

They uprooted their family to the uk two years later after Rohan’s father also got laid off

Rohan was about 7 years old when they moved to Wolverhampton

he picked up on the English language faster than his parents

Always a quick learner

He has two younger brothers

Who are really his cousins/friends of the family that his parents brought home from Pakistan after their parents passed in a tragic accident

he was eleven years old when he met them at the airport and was super excited to have sibs! & even encouraged his mom to let him buy them something they would like sort of like a ice breaker which they seemed to appreciate 😭

His parents wanted him to major in software engineering or any form of engineering really but that quickly became a “hell no” vs “hell yeah” after those courses started to rot his brain?

So what does he do? He decides he’s gonna major in psychology instead!

That seems more of his speed? Kinda? As long as he’s not dealing with that hardware shit then that’s cool with him tbh

Psych held more of his interest since he doesn’t have a issue with the whole science aspect tied into it but it’s deff lengthy and can be draining sometimes too

He doesn’t psychoanalyze everything like our girl marisol does

marisol will be like “hmm...you’re distributing narcissistic behavior based on your superego more than your ego ya know?”

but Rohan will either think it or think nothing of it and just continue to go with the flow lol. He’s that kinda guy

Why was he majoring in this in the first place? Just to say he had the degree in something maybe?

He’s 50/50 thinking he’ll just get the degree he’s halfway there but he really wants to be part of the circus

And now has circus themed tatts that he’s proud of thank u

Always had the obsession with all that comes with the circus, he had his paternal grandfather to thank for that

His grandfather used to juggle along with other forms of entertainment but mostly juggling on the street back in Pakistan to earn $ since there were a lack of jobs

The atmosphere there also was what got him into doing handstands cause why tf not

You can absolutely guess that the acrobats, trapeze acts, and tightrope entertainers are his favorites to watch

His parents just assumed it was a hobby of his and never took him serious even tho he openly said growing up that’s something he would like to do in life

He now understands the purpose of “freak shows” even tho he can honestly say those parts of the circus used to terrify him until he learned that not everyone is the same and there should be no shame in that

He will train on the side until he finishes his degree to make his parents happy but he knows he truly belongs in the circus and that’s where he will be someday whether his parents approve or not— after all this is his life

Lives on campus and is currently looking for a flat off campus to share with a roommate or two (he thought about asking jake & Tim but decided against it FOR NOW)

Mostly had temporary and odd jobs to get by each semester, has not had a steady job due to fully being a full-time student

He’s tried to be a full time student and full time employee (working as a package delivery man) just to burn himself out and never attempted to be a part time employee. It was not something he could handle sorry

His mother spoils him...he’s a bit of a mama’s boy

When it comes to relationships, it never seems to be what he thinks it is? One moment things are going great then the next he’s in the friend zone so he’s never quite sure where he stands with his significant others?

Which is why he thinks it’s safe to always start off in the friend zone or unintentionally puts those who have interest in him in the friend zone because that’s what’s comfortable to him

however if he’s really into you & you’re showing that you’re into him but it’s causal dating or whatever u want to call it? & you up and decide to pick the other over him catching him off guard he’s gonna be in his feelings about it 100% ex.) how he picked erikah over mc the 2nd time around and felt some type of way when erikah hopped on reeses dck

he wants communication even if it’s hard

and he wants someone to love unconditionally and for them to love him back

Definitely likes to sweep his loves off their feet

Especially when he’s kissing! The whole dipping you while you kiss, hand on the small of your back, or hands gripping your waist while he’s pressed up against you. Probably likes to bend you over things or have you pressed up against objects as well—Sign me tf up

I feel like he’s always warm and his hands are surprisingly soft with how many handstands he does in a damn day

He purchases hand moisturizing gloves

can always hold his own weight

enjoys core exercises

Will carry you on his back or his shoulders if you need to see better at festivals/concerts

He’s sexually fluid

It’s canon/hinted that something went on between him & jake when mc walked in that we missed by a few seconds or even a minute but I do think he’s attracted/was to jake and it’s canon that jake is bi bby

Plus he got excited when mc suggested that he’d date jake if jake doesn’t find someone in the villa so BOOM 🤗

Always active as a kid trying to do flips and shit likes he’s doing parkour much like Bobby ending up with bruises, scrapes, and surprisingly no broken bones? Well maybe scratch that last bit out...He did crack his head open a little bit once giving his mother a heart attack but his mother doesn’t dare speak of it — haram!

Loves his sleeveless shirts and silver thick chains

Keeps a five o’clock shadow + might grow a little stubble here and there, feels like it’s part of his signature look

Won’t grow a full beard due to the racism/prejudice he witnessed his father, grandfather, uncles, and cousins go thru!

Will spend coin on some aftershave, none of that cheap shit when it comes to that! Sorry he takes pride in his facial area

probably went thru a mild case of cystic acne when puberty hit & had some insecure moments when it comes to his appearance & still has moments where it’ll hit even tho he beat it thanks to some remedies but tries his best not to let it get to him

He knows how to manage his $ but can splurge every now and then but will never showcase what he has — that’s v corny to him to be overly flashy. He’s looking at y’all @/leggy @/jasper/@/miles

Doesn’t take high quality photos of himself, it’s always zoomed in or extra zoomed in photos—yup he’s got that type of feed

Regrets putting mc in the friend zone & wishes he put more effort in making things work with erikah

But slowly learned to be happy that she’s with Reese even if he wasn’t at first. He really thought there could have been something for him & erikah

he secretly thinks their “relationship” is superficial & based off of shallowness and lust. What else do they have? Nothing that he could have given her but what’s the point in being bitter over this?

Reese is a shit stirrer that thinks he can get anything he wants because of the way he looks & if he knows outside info that he can use again you, he WILL

& erikah? He doesn’t know where her head is at majority of the time. She likes to throw rocks then acts like she didn’t mean to do it but why do it in the first place if you didn’t mean to? + she seems to lose interest fast if they don’t fit her standards besides their physical appearance...yeah Rohan caught all of that

So did she even genuinely like him or want to besides what he brought to the table physically? Who knows

He just thinks people deserve their chance at happiness and he possibly could have had it if he wasn’t standing in his own way...and he absolutely won’t stand in anyone else’s way if they don’t see potential happiness with him

He’s cool with cherry but deep down he knew there wouldn’t be anything long term between him & her after some time. She’s a beautiful/hot girl but she wasn’t his type + he didn’t like how she portrayed herself in the villa even tho she claims there was more than what meets the eye when it comes to her

she proved that to him which she didn’t HAVE to!!! outside of the house and they actually remained friends unlike the now growing distance he has with erikah

I cannoned that him and Hannah give it a go. I think they’d be cute together? She told him from the moment they met at a festival that they were now dating after they ended up holding hands but he didn’t take her seriously since she was a little drunk?

She messaged him two days later asking him when they were going on their date and that was enough for him to give it a go

They only lasted for a couple of months since they outgrew each other slowly but surely. ‘Not all things are temporary,’ he had to remind himself

It was no bad blood thankfully and they continued to be friends with him wishing her well on her new relationship with Carl. He was genuinely happy for her as he always was for his friends

Cannot cook for shit but makes the best coffee with cinnamon & cardamom

once tried to make Aloo Chaat but with a twist! With the use of Potato Skins instead! for a family dinner party and his mum almost sent him home due to the insults his father spewed at rohan trying to fool them all that it was his wife who prepared such a thing

It is evident that his father only enjoys his wife’s cooking

he still makes it for himself when he’s starving despite what his father thinks

Is fluent in Urdu, English came second

Never ashamed of his culture although his father thinks he is...

His fav shows are misfits + the IT crowd and he is currently watching & enjoying truth seekers + mr. selfridge since Tim recommended it to him ofc

his fav American show is the challenge

when asked what his fav American movie is, he got dragged since ppl assumed it would be the greatest showman but he can’t take all the singing...musicals aren’t his thing sorry

But he’ll bust out a rap only if Tim & jake are around, he rarely does it alone

Even looked into producing music for fun but never took THAT seriously

closest with jake & Tim, doesn’t have much of a relationship with the other lads 🤷🏽‍♀️ but there’s no real beef with anyone he knows how to let shit go

But you’ll never catch him having a chat with Reese or following him back on ig. What they had to say to each other was already said and done so?

If erikah agrees to get engaged to Reese, he’s happy for her but cordial to him

if she doesn’t end up with Reese, he’ll be her shoulder to lean on if she needs it

his love language is physical touch with a splash of acts of service

Commonly sleeps curled up, his mum says he was like that in the womb as well—(same dude)

He’s probably a good 5’9 - 5’7 on bad days

Is he a Pisces? Idk

His signature cologne is probably Antaeus by Chanel which is described to have notes of: lemon, lime, coriander and sage w. A blend of thyme, basil and rose

Loves black pepper, specifically garlic, onion, black pepper, and sea salt all mixed together

has a vitiligo spot on the right side of his lower spine that is commonly covered with the waistband of whatever bottoms he has on

has a pogo stick

Wants to go skydiving next, has gone bungee jumping—which was such a adrenaline rush!!!

probably knows a few tips on how to survive in the wild or if the apocalypse hits...you can never be too sure

If he ever gets a pet he might get something like: Satanic Leaf tailed Gecko, Kinkajou, or a Pac-Man frog. He likes being different okay

he actually enjoyed season 3 despite the negative remarks made about it. It was “different” basically drama free which was a shocker knowing how production likes to take things take a shot every time ro explains his decisions/opinions as such lol

BUT he won’t go as far to say he liked it better than his season yet he did enjoy keeping up with it. He def has a crush on iona, aj, vieve, Camilo & tai

Yasmin actually joined one of his lives, which he doesn’t do too often but he couldn’t sleep one night and thought he’d give it a go. She’s quite nice & quiet but he ultimately felt calm around her + they bonded over bohemian lifestyle & his love for the circus + a little about their cultures

Long term goals? He doesn’t have a set timeline of when he wants everything to happen because pressure is not fun

but he wants to be in love and loved back, wants to be married, wants to have kids, wants to try out the circus for awhile and if that doesn’t work out he can always fall back on his psych degree—he just wants to be happy and share that with someone, that’s one of the biggest adventures he can possibly have

His anthem = Blxst, “No Love Lost”

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jakob-muller · 3 years

Text

Name: Jakob David Müller Age / D.O.B.: 24 - 7th of September 1997 Gender, Pronouns & Sexuality: Cis male, He/Him, Bisexual Hometown: Munich, Germany Affiliation: Cortazar Cartel Job position: Drug Dealer Occupation : Veterinary School Student - Intern at the Central Park Zoo Education: Masters degree - Currently working on his doctorate Relationship status: In a relationship with Maureen Keaton Address: 60 W 125th St, New York, NY 10027 (Harlem, Manhattan) Children: Horses don’t count, so 0 Positive traits: meticulous, dutiful, hard-working, ingenious, patient, brave, diligent, funny, generous Negative traits: impulsive, malicious, ruthless, grumpy, blunt, reserved, perfectionist, stubborn, opportunistic, obsessive

drug tw

— BIOGRAPHY and CONNECTIONS BELOW CUT

A middle child, Jakob was quiet. His older brother was pressured to succeed, his youngest sister was cocooned, and he was left to learn nearly by himself. From his mother, he gained a passion for sciences, and from his father, a passion for beautiful things. Having seen his parents work hard his whole childhood, and inspired by the success of his older brother, he wanted to surpass them all. His mother’s projects abroad brought her eventually to New York State, where she convinced the family to settle down for good. Putting his older brother to med school cost his parents most of their savings, so when his time came to join higher education, he told them that he would find a way to pay for it without their help. Perhaps they had not expected of him to have the same expectations. He never asked. He started working for a riding stable, cleaning horse shit out of stalls and tending to the animals there. It didn’t pay that well, but that was a job he had for nearly a year. Jakob reached out to a guy, at a party, asking of him to put him in contact with his dealer. Not that he was interested in buying, but rather in selling. Why take the long hard road when life gave you a short cut. He knew he would have a nice list of customers in vet school, and have no trouble demonstrating to the Cartel that they had done well to bet on him. Although he didn’t expect that he’d end up using his own product to get through difficult and demanding finals. Nowadays, Jakob works on his doctorate, and while his thesis is demanding, there's nothing he enjoys more than juggling between his social life, the climbing of the social ladder, his internship and his thesis. This was the kind of hard work that Jakob knew could make him into someone that mattered. He just has to be better than the rest of them all, and quite frankly, he truly believes that he can do it.

— WANTED CONNECTIONS / PLOTS

This is a basic AF list. We can figure out something better.

Customer → friend

Jakob sells his product mostly on Cornell Campus, but you can always find him at parties. Depending on the time of the year, he was willing not to let you have fun all on your own and a friendship was born from this act of generosity and altruism.

Cornell alumni / students

They met on campus and could be friends, acquaintances or people he detests.

Friends / BFFs

Title says it all. Whether they are inseparable or just have gone from acquaintance to friend is up to you. Most likely people his age, but Jakob’s more than capable of handling a conversation with someone much older. The sky is the limit. Or rather one’s ability to get along with him. Jakob may put himself first, but some things remain sacred and if he says he has your back, you can actually trust his word.

Enemies

The term seems a bit pompous for someone so young, but nope, it’s official, your character cannot stand the sight of Jakob. It’s alright, the feeling is mutual... Or is it? Either way, there’s always something interesting to be found in extremes.

Cartel members

Congratulations, Jakob won’t be awful to you. At least he’ll try not to be.

Roommates

Jakob used to live with his older brother but since the guy graduated med school, he’s decided that he wanted a place of his own. It’s not that he doesn’t appreciate the quiet, but rent is expensive. He can move out, or you can move in, your call.

#wb.intro

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honeymoonjin · 4 years

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day 11 & 12

With Festa in full swing last week, I feel like I didn’t have a chance to breathe let alone sit down long enough to articulate a review worthy of Day 11. I shall endeavor to do my very best to make up for that here. And, upon reading the start of Day 12, I am actually kinda glad I waited because I think that it gave me time to put both chapters into perspective.

Day 11 was a very emotional one for Jungkook and I feel like we got to see those emotions coming to a head in this chapter. On the whole, Day 11 was such a fun, lowkey entry that I wasn’t really sure if I would have anything coherent to offer beyond high pitched squealing accompanied by the occasional swoon and cooing. But after seeing the tension and subsequent squabble that transpired at the breakfast table on Day 12, I see that perhaps there was more to ruminate concerning the feelings that Jungkook had experienced in the confessional booth. It’s so interesting from a writers perspective that you chose Jungkook to be the one to reiterate the whole point of the show; he’s younger, thus perhaps conventionally he’s a bit more emotionally immature than the rest of the guys. And yet, from the beginning, none of these guys have ever been portrayed as stereotypical or conventional; you have always expertly reminded the audience that each of the contestants (including our lady!) is more much complex than what meets the eye. It’s one of the things that I love so much about this series; none of the characters are ever “too perfect” and it’s those candid moments of vulnerability or weakness that truly makes this story stand out from a lot of other stories that I read. So to choose Jungkook as the person to make those “bold” comments and to have Namjoon be the one to call him out for being insensitive makes me feel like Jungkook’s response was much more complex than what it seems at glance. Like, it’s pretty obvious that Jungkook likes and respects our lady and perhaps he realized his indiscretion just a little to late but now he’s put on the spot, he’s been called out in front of everyone, and beyond the fact that he probably feels like shit for saying what he said and inadvertently hurting our lady in the process. He’s probably also hella embarrassed. I wonder too if maybe Jungkook is also ashamed that the person who called him out was Namjoon, someone who I want to believe, he respects and perhaps maybe admires a little. And despite the fact that I chuckled a little bit when our lady noticed that Jungkook was “staring at his pancakes like he’s trying to make them burst into flames”, I realized that he might also be both angry and disappointed in himself for his behavior. *sigh* Boy, you were so right all those weeks ago when you said “emotions are messy”. Anyway, that’s my roundabout way of saying, I liked the breakfast scene. Haha! Drama is inevitable; I love that you don’t shy away from presenting conflict for them to overcome. It offers opportunities for character growth and character exploration and I really appreciate that!

Speaking of character growth, Namjoon got a chance to really flex those skills he acquired from “Hoseok’s School of Sexual Prowess”. That scene left me melting! Melting, I say! I’m not sure if you noticed but I make it a point to not reveal who my actual bias is in these reviews because I feel like I want to give all of the guys a chance to win me over for fan favorite. What I will say though is that you kind of hit on a lot of my personal preferences with Namjoon’s scene. Beyond the fact that the scene was really, really hawt, it fulfilled me on an emotionally intimate level, so it made the scene extra special. Bravo!

And I suppose Jimin also deserves a standing ovation for that amazing show he put on. Holy smokes that was so hot. From the light banter and quips at the beginning of that scene to Jimin actually owning that entire lounge! And as amazing as the show (plus subsequent private scene with our lady afterwards) was, my favorite bit might be the exchange between Jimin and Hoseok, another scene that filled with tension and new revelations! It might actually be the most fascinating scene because it gave a glimpse at something rather unexpected; something has transpired between Hoseok and Jimin. I might be reading too much into the exchange but it feels as though something has happened away from the cameras between them. Because it feels like there has been a shift from blatant hostility between these two to something more akin to a genuine understanding that this is now a battle for power and control. I could be reaching but I feel like, at the very least, there have been words exchanged between them! It made the scene all the more intriguing! I loved every moment of it. Oh! Speaking of which, what is up with Jin?! When Yoongi asked Jin to speak to Kookie about what had happened that morning, it seemed he was a bit apprehensive to take up the task. I know that there might not be anything more there than just the fact that Jin might not want to be the one to have to broach the subject with Kookie but I feel like there’s more there than what meets the eye as well… my theory is in it’s fetus stage though, so I feel like I’ll hold back on my thoughts concerning Jin for now. And Yoongi, for that matter! I feel like there is something more there as well. AH! Too many theories to juggle! I will let you know what my thoughts are about it once I have gathered more adequate information.

I still feel guilty for not being able to give you a full length review of Day 11. It really was such a great, light day. Jungkook’s scene left me all hot and bothered to the point where I spent the entirety of the week, searching up Jungkook smut fics to fulfill my Jungkook fix that that chapter evoked in me! Not to mention that the boys getting up to antics for a whiteboard that in the end they didn’t really need just made me all the more baffled by their behavior. It was fun, hilarious and just what I would expect from the guys.

To make up for not having anything for last week, I would like to take the opportunity to tell you about me loving this amazing story so much I nearly force-fed my best friend to read it with me so that I would have someone to fangirl with. Let me tell you a little bit about her. See, she doesn’t consume fanfics with as much verocity as I do. She is a very casual fanfic reader and if she does (which is rare in it of itself) she only ever reads MxM. Period. So when I told her the premises of “The Gentlemen” she was curious enough to read the contestant profiles. But I must say, from Day 1, you had her HOOKED! She would text me screenshots and emoji filled fangirlings in the wee hours of the morning (the only time she had to read at all) every single thing she loved about each chapter and it brings me so much joy that she was really dissecting and appreciating all the little things that I too loved about your story! We would have long, deep discussions about her prompt theories, her favorite members, tiny details that you’ve so expertly woven into the story (like Jimin’s tattoo for example, which is something she is obsessed with, btw) all of her favorite traits that our lady of the house has. It’s been so blissfully fun having this to share with her especially since I have her to thank for getting me into BTS in the first place. So, please know that you have a secret fan of “The Gentlemen” who would like you to know that she has been enjoying herself thoroughly and that she looks forward to your updates just as much as I do now!

Anyhoo, I think I’ve prattled on long enough. Thank you so much for your continued hard work and dedication to this series! This was such an amazing chapter I cannot wait to see how everything unfolds; it feel as though these last 2 chapters have planted some major seeds (no pun intended!!); I look forward to see what it sows in the coming days. 💜 Jan

Oh my gosh! In all of my ramblings, I forgot to say "shout out to Lady Mango! You go get that stake, girly!" Also, YAY Grandma Park!! Heck, that entire exchange in the bathtub made me uwu so hard my heart is just a pile of mush rn! Also, also!! Jin x Tae is lowkey underrated, so thank you for that! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*✲ﾟ*｡⋆ I lub u so much!! kthnxbye

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i’m not ashamed (okay, maybe a little) to admit that i kinda teared up and did a happy lil dance when i saw the email that you’d sent in a submission fksdjfkds i figured you’d probably been busy with life or with the mountainloads of content bighit is giving us these days so i was content to wait patiently, and it just made it that much more exciting when i saw this come in !

thank you, as always, for being so sweet and articulate and thoughtful in your reviews of the chapters. often you point out things that make so much sense that perhaps i hadn’t even noticed when writing. other times you hit an idea that i’d slipped in right on the nose.

jungkook definitely is having a pretty tumultuous time on the show. for him, i imagine he feels like he’s the only one having a difficult time ironing out his feelings, or that if anyone else is struggling too, that they’re acting like nothing’s up. i also feel like jungkook’s competitive streak comes through in unexpected ways. of course he feels proud of his sexual prowess and kinda wants to showboat a little bit, but i think there’s an aspect too where he needs to be the one that’s always bolder than the others to assert his position. writing the namkook scene i kind of drew on that feeling where you’re fighting with someone you care about or think highly of, and even as you realise you’re wrong, you don’t want them to think badly of you and so you desperately scramble for a way to come out on top or prove you’re in the right. there’s also def a degree of him trying to convince himself the show is just about sex and that the rest doesn’t matter. he certainly doesn’t feel that way inside, but we see him vouching from that position so fiercely in d12.

i’m glad you liked the namjoon scene !! one day i’ll figure out your bias fkdsjfksdjk you do such a good job at analysing and discussing everyone equally that it’s difficult >.<

it’s so fascinating to hear your jihope theory that they’ve spoken before. i must keep my silence on the details BUT there will be a very important scene between them coming up in the next few days of the show that i think will really change things between them and also how the readers see them. i’m super excited to write it !

beyond that, i’m happy you noticed something about jin in this chapter.... yn and jin still haven’t resolved their issues yet, plus here we are having jin not respond that well to being asked to counsel one of the members, something he always stated he was happy to do,,,,, hmmmm 0.0

i love hearing your theories so much !!! i eagerly await getting new content out so i can see how they shift and change from release to release

and also you really don’t need to feel bad ! there’s never any obligation to write out a long review for every chapter, but you do so anyway and that means a lot to me xx if you’re busy one week you don’t have to force yourself to make time for it. we have over 50 chapters, so we’re in for the long haul ! there’s really no rush

ahhhh that’s so cool to hear about your friend! it always warms my heart hearing stories of people that got their friends to begin reading and stuff, honestly even the thought that people think about tgm outside of reading it blows me away, it feels so special that it’s something y’all wanna share and discuss w your loved ones xx

YES LADY MANGOOO i love adding little slips of her in the chapters, i know she doesn’t factor into the main story that much but everyone can rest assured that all of the members of the house (okay, and probably our three on-site producers too) spend a lot of time with her, walking her and cuddling her and playing with her. tae is probably currently trying to teach her some commands, but of course the only one she’s got the hang of is lie down jskfjsd

(finally YES taejin is such an underrated duo i love them)

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hellojeffreyjames · 4 years

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Another mental health awareness month has come to an end. One challenge that a designated period presents, is that it can be hard to navigate for people who struggle to function in a neurotypical culture. It’s hard to parse all the virtue signaling or things folks say just to just participate in the theme of the month. To get ready for all the people to check in once in November, and then abandon them when that dynamic is so stressful they’d rather not have that person check in at all. It can be stressful to interact with people who are well intentioned, but lack an awareness of what being supportive means. It means they may dismiss the idea you have a neurological difference because they view a diagnosis as a defect instead of a part of neurodiversity.

This dullness may not happen, but if that’s the case, it doesn’t have to be forever. It can be a stepping stone towards building cognitive habits and disciplines you need to reduce your dosage. It can be the phase you needed to rewire your neurons. You may be able to build the structures you need to be medication free in a couple years instead of decades.

There are some neurological conditions that make it impossible to do certain things. One can learn the skills to work around that, and make the impossible, possible. but for many people it’s like trying to learn calculus while bench pressing 200 pounds as someone keeps sticking a needles in your foot and telling you that you have no value and would be better off dead. For me that is not a question of whether or not I could learn calculus like that. It’s whether or it I should.

There are simple things I intend to do every single day and just cannot do them when I’m not on meds. I will beat myself up, tell myself I am a waste of a human life, and a burden to everyone, because I can’t do the even most basic things. I can’t do for those around me what I absolutely believe they deserve from me, and I don’t even have the language to explain why the most simple tasks are next to impossible. How it just looks like me being inconsiderate and selfish. How climbing Mount Everest would genuinely be easier than, say, mailing a letter.

That’s not an exaggeration. I mean there are chemical differences that make a simple mundane task more difficult than something that includes tangible stress, urgency, extreme physical challenge, and in a distraction free environment. Obviously I’d fail at climbing Mount Everest as an untrained mountain climber, but I would engage with the activity. Taking three coffee cups off the nightstand and putting them in the dishwasher? Without medication, that might happen if I think about it every day for the next... 2 years. Ok, that one is an exaggeration, but it would be quite a while.

I feel very proud as I watch my friends make life plans and conquer the world, as I formulate my own elaborate 36 step plan to ensure I brush my teeth today.

If anyone identifies with any of that, to any degree, I just want you to know that you’re not alone. Yes, I also set myself 26 alarms and nine reminders and still did not make it to the post office yesterday. Or the day before that. Or the day before that. Yes, I also don’t know what to tell my family about why I don’t reciprocate birthday cards. Yes, I also feel like I am doing my best to hide and perform happiness and high function.

Have you gotten so good at it you’re afraid people think the performance is the really of how you are doing, and that mentioning your struggles would be seen as being attention seeking or melodramatic? Hey, me too, and I also feel this paradox: Wishing somebody knew, yet embarrassed that if anyone really new, they wouldn’t know where to begin to support me and I wouldn’t know what to tell them. Yes, you and I both share that fear, that it will only end with a loss of dignity and to be treated like that unstable neurotic friend that folks keep at arms length and never expect much out of. That you’ll be stuck at the “kids table” of life and never be invited to anything that counts. And “me too” about... a lot of other and darker things we won’t get into right now.

We can spend a lot of energy juggling all of these difficult concepts and throwing the balls up so high in the air we don’t realize The massive amount of energy we are blowing through to just make it through each day. We can’t see them all at one time and realize, no one on the earth should have to do all of that alone. No one on the earth can do all of that alone. You are not a failure to seek help.

You are not a failure to seek help.

To stay afloat we keep juggling but if we stopped we would see it fall to the ground and say, “Holy shit I’ve been trying to manage hundreds of emotional, intellectual, psychological, spiritual, and physical burdens that the people I compare myself to ...simply don’t.” The reason I feel feel like I am at the razor’s edge of losing everything, is because I am trying to do something nearly impossible, and perhaps absolutely impossible to do on my own.

You are not a failure to seek help. You are not dishonoring your body or your mind to take a medicine. You’re not a failure if you need to talk to a psychiatrist. You are not a failure if you believe you have neglected your whole life, for your entire life. Because I know how hard it is to just make it through the day and still be alive. I know how hard it is to wake up every morning knowing you’re going to make it through this day, by the skin of your teeth, again.

That’s not your fault. The hundreds of things you have to conquer in your mind to make it through every single day - that’s not your fault and I need you to know that I am so. goddamn. proud of you. I’m proud of you because this fight is absurdly difficult. I hope you can trust me in that because at this point I’m an an expert in this fight. I’m an expert at putting in every last drop of my effort and willpower, just to tie my shoes, get in the car, and drive to work. This fight is not a fair fight. You’ve been fighting an incredibly unfair fight, if not always by yourself, often by yourself ...and that is why I am so goddamn proud of you.

I am more proud of you than I am of billionaires. I am more proud of you than those people who get to live laugh love their dream life and get paid to travel the world and sample ice cream for their ice cream travel blog. I’m proud of you because I know what you have to do to just keep putting one foot in front of the other, and you don’t get to sample the ice cream flavors of Bangladesh for doing so.

So I want you to know, again: it’s okay to seek help. It can be a difficult road but I recommend professional help. Some wonderful spiritual books and friends can’t often fight that incredibly unfair fight. You are a specific person and a mental health practitioner will be able to understand your specific needs and make adjustments as needed.

I can’t promise you that I will give you exactly what you’re needing but I am here if you need to reach out and want to know more about getting help. I can promise, that if your friends fail to support you in the ways that you need, it’s not because they don’t love you, it’s because they are not professional supports. They haven’t trained for this. Seeking professional support is the way that we begin to believe we are not a burden to our friends and family.

Even when you never were, it’s the same feeling of asking loved ones casually about some car issues for years, tinkering with your engine for years, then hiring a mechanic. There’s no one in your life who will shame you for seeking a mechanic and you might be amazed at how quickly your car begins to drive more smoothy.

Anyone who talks negatively about medication, therapy, psychiatry, etc. do not have your well-being in mind. they are sales people for their own ideologies. It’s not about you it’s about how you should take natural medicine or trust Jesus. There are people who would rather you buy some supplements and remain miserable than to see a professional and be shown that professional help does make a real difference. it’s best to avoid those folks for a little while.

You are not a failure to seek help.

I am more proud of you billionaires and professional ice cream tasting supermodels.

You are fighting a battle you do not deserve to fight alone.

You are absolutely positively not alone.

You’re not a failure to seek help.

Things can get better.

Things will get better.

In the darkest places, reasons to try, to go on, to keep living, are often often nonexistent. I don’t want you to have any hope that things will change. I’m asking you to place a tiny sliver of trust in these things I’m saying. The best recent to do something different and to seek help is going to be, for no reason. The voices in your head will try to stop you and you must tell them, “there is no reason I’m doing this. But I am still going to do it.” Hope will betray you. Friends and family are not professional supports and will let you down because they don’t have any training.

I just want you to place that sliver trust in how I know road will get smoother. Things will get easier. Seeking help is not failure. I’m not asking you to hope I know this. I am asking you to trust that I notice. And I’m asking you to please keep on seeking help even though the help feel sometimes. The system may be broken but system can be a crucial part love you reconnecting with yourself and your inner resources so that you can create your own path of healing.

I’m so incredibly proud of you. thank you for reading all of this and if you choose to, thank you for placing that sliver of trust in these things I’m saying. And if you can’t do anything else, keep being around people you feel good around. The people that do you feel excepted and listen to with, and if you don’t have any of those let me know and I’ll make sure you do. 💛🤍🖤💛🤍🖤

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mon-dayragingslut4monstaxday6 · 4 years

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This is the first episode of a Drama titled Korean Boyfriend.

Cast:

Park Mi Sook: (reader/ reader’s interpretation)

Lee Chan Young: Park Seo Joon

Euhn Jeong Ja: Park Min Ji

Choo Dae Hyun: TBD

Word count: 3k

Warnings: none(?)

I’ve been in Seoul for a week now. The biggest move of my life. I lived in the United States since birth, but I’ve vacationed here before. Got an opportunity of a lifetime from my job, to transfer to the South Korea location. A good friend of mine and I got to find a place together, but the expenses got a little much, on top of paying off my student loans.

To clean the slate of my debt, I got into sugaring. I got the suggestion from my friend, who juggles between a few Sugar Daddies, to afford going to school for another bachelor's degree. Out of all my options, I only stuck to one, a restaurant mogul in South Korea. I kept things smart, keeping things strictly online. He offered to fly me to visit him, but I kindly declined the offer. I’m not ready to get physical with him. I’m not a virgin, I’m just not ready for the sex. For declining the visit, I had to really make it up to him. He hasn't been aggressive to me, but I could see the potential. I wouldn't necessarily say I'm afraid of him, but his wealth is intimidating.

After moving to Seoul, and after completely paying off my expenses, I kept contact with him, but I refused to tell him I moved. If he knew I moved, he would want to meet. I want to cut things off with him, but with the contract, I have to live with this for another few months to fulfill the year long commitment.

Staying in hiding is getting old. Jeong Ja and I have been spending too much time unpacking, we deserve a break. Changing into our best outfits, we head out into Itaewon to go clubbing. Time to get our drink on!

The first club feels like a drag, couldn’t vibe with the music. A second club, the drink selection was too limited. Then naturally, the third one was just right. The music was hype, the drink selection is full, and the people look more approachable.

We pound some drinks and head to the dance floor. We dance like idiots, we’re not appeasing to these people, who cares.

I feel like there’s eyes on me. Is it because I’m dancing like an idiot or because I’m dressed more American?

I sign to Jeong Ja, telling her that there are some guys who are looking at us. She looks around and jokingly signs about her disgust. Using American Sign Language outside of the United States has its perks. I let her know I’m going back to the bar to get another drink.

At the bar, I order some water. I can’t have this alcohol hit all at once. I lean against the counter while I sip my water. Phew, I’m getting warm! Someone freakishly tall stands beside me and orders a beer. He must be at least six feet tall!

“Are you American?”, the man asks, in a thick Korean accent. I roll my eyes from the assumption. I look up to meet his eyes and holy shit he’s handsome! A delicious jawline, high cheekbones, a fucking sexy adam’s apple, straight full brows, and sweet eye smile.

I point to myself to see if he was asking me. He nods. His lips are full, his bottom lip tempting me to pull it between my own. His lips would feel beautiful on my neck or chest. Snap out of it! I can’t be this touch starved!

“How did you know?”, I bashfully look away.

“I recognized a sign you did with your friend”, he rubs his thumb along his beer bottle.

“You know American Sign Language?”, I gasped excitedly.

“Only a few signs that I picked up from coworkers”, he elaborates. So, he works with people who spent time in the states. Probably is in the business industry.

“Have you ever been to the states?”, I start small talk.

“Myself, no. Have you been to South Korea before?”, he raises his eyebrows before sipping his beer. I feel a sweat droplet fall down my forehead. How am I so warm? I dab the sweat off with my knuckles.

“Every few years I would come here to see relatives, I recently moved here for work”, I drink more water to cool myself down. I’ve been out clubbing before, I should be used to the body heat.

“Congratulations”, he nods, holding up his beer to cheers. We clink our drinks. I see the size comparison of our hands. Am I really imagining his hand wrapped around my throat or squeezing my breast or ass? I shamelessly am.

“But I’m still new to Itaewon, maybe you can show me around?”, I propose. Oh goodness, did I just nonchalantly ask him out? He’s surprised by my abrupt question, but is impressed by my gumption. He shouldn't be shocked, American girls can make the first move.

“Really?”, he wonders.

“To be honest, I’m feeling really warm and would love some air”, I sigh, fanning myself. I stumble from being a natural cluts, he doesn’t hesitate to grab my arm to keep me from falling. His strong grip only enhances the fantasy of his hands on my body.

“Are you ok?”, he worries.

“I am, I just need some air”, I laugh it off. Damn, I never was this much of a lightweight. He escorts me out of the club, leaving his beer behind, and immediately sitting me down on a bench. I need to text Jeong Ja! I grab my phone from my pocket.

“How are you feeling?”, the kind, handsome stranger continues to worry.

“I’m feeling fine right now”, I inhale sharply.

I’m outside of the club for some air. Don’t worry, I’m not alone, I’m with someone. I’ll see you at home! - Park Mi Sook

“What’s your name?”, I stuff my phone into my bag.

“Lee Chan Young”, he smiles. Shit, his Korean sounds sexier than his English.

“I’m Park Mi Sook, but people call me Sookie”, I grab onto my purse, nervous about sitting so close to this man.

“Sookie? How cute”, he chuckles. There’s little wrinkles that fan his eyes when he smiles. Seeing him illuminated by the streetlights and neon lights from the various bars and restaurants gives me a new perspective of him. His white dress shirt perfectly hugs his body. I could tell he has defined pecs under that shirt. The touch of pink from a neon sign above us gives him a softer look. I can feel the depth of his eyes. I can see my reflection vividly in the dark pearls. The sparkle from the string lights across the street add something special to his eyes.

“Tell me about yourself, Chan Young”, I rest my elbow on my knee, holding my head up. That's when I knew, I'm fucked up.

“What do you want to know?”, his face relaxes.

“What do you do, what was your life like, where do you see yourself in five years, what’s your biggest regret, blah blah blah”, I list.

“Why me?”, he continues.

“You approached me, remember?”, I tease. He gives me a cheeky grin, leans back onto the bench.

"I work in architecture under my family's firm, expected to take over in ten years or so when my father retires. A lot happened in my 27 years of life, but I don't really have any regrets", Chan Young confesses, running his fingers through his hair. A man of mystery, huh? No worries, he might be reserved, I can respect that. I'd love to learn more about him.

"What about you?", He changes direction of the conversation.

"I studied journalism, got here to be an editor for a magazine. I was pretty average growing up, nothing too special. I hope to be chief editor of the magazine in five years. My biggest regret is dying my hair green my first term of college, I should've gone with blue", I reveal, giggling like a drunk idiot. The neon lights are getting blurry, my mind is getting fuzzy. I sway in my seat, helplessly. Chan Young holds me by my shoulders to keep my back straight. I whine from my lack of control.

"I never was this much of a lightweight", I groan. Chan Young bites back a smile.

"I'm stronger than this", I mumble, fighting back tears. He notices my quivering lip. Scooting closer to me, Chan Young rests my head on his shoulder, patting my back. Don't cry, don't cry! Mama didn't raise you to cry in front of strangers! I miss mama. I wish her and dad moved to Seoul with me. Dammit, I'm happy that I wore waterproof mascara tonight.

"Excuse me, what are you doing to my girl!", Jeong Ja shouts from afar. Chan Young flinches, but keeps my head still.

"I'm sorry?", Chan Young panics. She runs to us, holding up a hand, threatening to slap him. I wave at her to stop.

"Jeong Ja, don't", I babble. She finally gets a good look at him and stops her temptation of wrath.

"Sookie, a-are you ok?", She notices the tear streaks down my cheeks.

"Did you do this?!", Jeong Ja points to Chan Young.

"No, I'm just drunk. We were talking", I pat his chest. Damn, it's firm.

"Hope the talk was good, I'm taking you home", she grabs my hand.

"No!", I shout.

"Please don't move me, I don't feel so good", I warn her. Chan Young immediately balls up my hair and feels my forehead.

"You're warm, let me take you to an open area", Chan Young murmurs. He lifts me, bridal style, and keeps my head elevated. Surprised by the sudden movement, I take a deep breath to prevent myself from hurling. Chan Young takes diligent steps, finding a nice open space for me to breathe. Jeong Ja follows us, worried he'll drop me.

"How are you feeling?", He smiles. His face looks better up close. I give him a thumbs up, I'm too scared to talk. He finds a nice secluded bench outside of the crowded neighborhoods. He lowers me down so I can stand up, holding my hair in a bundle so I can have a breeze on my neck.

"You will feel better if you throw up", Chan Young advises. How is he so nice to me? Why?

"Why are you so nice?", I mumble.

"Are you trying to fuck me?", I blurt out, making Jeong Ja burst into laughter. I never saw anyone blush faster than Chan Young. I grin from cheek to cheek.

"I'm kidding!", I cackle. He's so tall that my head is eye level to his chest. He's choking on his words. I'm swaying side to side, almost tripping on my feet. He grabs my shoulders to keep me still.

"Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry. I overstepped. This isn't me", I ramble. Chan Young notices my anxious plea. He cups my cheek and lifts my head to meet his eyes. There's a chuckle under his breath. His smile is so charming, I almost forget I'm on the verge of throwing up.

"Mi Sook, how are you this cute?", Chan Young whispers. Fuck, don't puke, don't puke. I cover my mouth, heaving.

"I'm cute?", I ask, muffled.

"I'm going to go get some water", Jeong Ja got the hint to leave.

"You think I'm cute?", I hiccup.

"You're very cute", he compliments.

"Even though I'm going to throw up?", I exhale.

"Yes", he chuckles. I want to kiss him. I grab his hands off my shoulders. His hands are firm, but soft to the touch. Nope, nope, I'm going to puke. Where can I go, I can't puke on him! There's a bench, no. A lamp post? No. A tree? A tree will do! I lunge to the tree. Holding onto the trunk, I vomit the variety of colors that I drank tonight. Chan Young soothingly rubs my back with one hand while the other keeps the hair away from my face.

"This fucking sucks", I dry heave.

"You're doing great, Sookie", Chan Young comforts.

"I shouldn't have drank", I groan before hurling once more..

“It’s ok, aein”, Chan Young softens. Did I hear him correctly?

“I’m sorry you’re here, Chan Young”, I apologize, wanting to wipe my mouth.

“Don’t be sorry, I’m happy to help”, he continues. Why is he so sweet? We just met. He has no reason to be nice to me. Unless he’s that desperate for a hookup. Would he be desperate enough to hook up after I vomit? Gross. Am I interested in seeing him after this? Absolutely. Would I consider...having him stay the night tonight if I didn’t vomit in front of him? Yes.

“You can go home”, I cry out.

“I don’t want to leave you alone”, Chan Young refuses. I hurl one more time and I'm confident that I'm done. I feel a lot better. I spit out whatever is left in my mouth. I got some strength back. I straighten my back and stretch.

"How are you feeling?", Chan Young wonders, still holding onto me in case I'm not as strong as I feel.

"I feel better. Not great, but I feel better", I assure. Jeong Ja comes back with a bag full of water bottles. She hands Chan Young and I each a bottle. I gargle a mouth full of water and spit it out, washing out my bad choices.

"Chan Young, this is Euhn Jeong Ja. Jeong Ja, this is Lee Chan Young", I introduce. Jeong Ja squints her eyes, suspicious of Chan Young and his intentions.

"Listen, boy. I'm her best friend, hurt her and I won't hesitate to kick your ass", Jeong Ja threatens.

"He's not hurting me. He's a very good guy", I scoff. Chan Young is flattered by the compliment.

"And how do you know?", She asks me.

"I have been puking here for like five minutes and he held my hair up and rubbed my back. He's a gentleman", I point to him.

"You look like you needed help", Chan Young defends himself.

"And thank you", I thank him. Jeong Ja hands me a tissue from the grocery bag to wipe my mouth.

"Let me take you home. So I know you got there safe", Chan Young offers.

"Fine. No one would try to snatch us if they saw you with us", Jeong Ja rolls her eyes, accepting the offer.

"Hey, be nice", I shoo at her.

"Oh please, he wants you. I don't have to be nice", Jeong Ja teases. Chan Young gets bashful and runs his fingers through his hair.

"I'm just joking, you're fine", Jeong Ja laughs. I get a buzz in my purse, must've gotten a text. I swiftly check to see the notification.

It's been a while, darling. I expect to hear from you soon, wearing that robe I got you. -Choo Dae Hyun

Fuck. He's going to catch on that I moved.

I'll make it up to you. - Park Mi Sook

I have to think of something. I can't keep this lie.

"Are you ok?", Chan Young catches my attention. I hide my phone.

"Me? I'm fine, the light just hurt my eyes", I laugh it off. Chan Young reaches out his hand, inviting me to take it.

"Let's go, you seem tired", he smiles. Maybe things can be different. I want to know more about this man. What made him so caring? Does he do this often? Was it his family that raised him to be good or was it on his own accord? Is he single, is he in a relationship? Not that I could see myself dating him, he's too good for me.

I take his hand and lead the way to the closest bus stop. We make small talk while we wait for the bus. I learned he's an only child, same as me. Although he never visited the United States, his parents often have. I told him I'm left-handed, but my parents were in denial for the first five years of my life, he got a kick out of that. We talked about college and funny stories we had from the parties. The bus picked us up and the conversation continued, laughing at funny embarrassing stories. Jeong Ja sadly was more of a third wheel, but she participated in the conversation. Although I'm learning quite a bit about him, there's still a lot missing.

The bus ride was brief, but we took him to our apartment, gave him a little tour. He commented on how cutely decorated it was. Jeong Ja and I have a thing for cute animals and soft pastels.

Jeong Ja immediately heads to her room, waving goodbye to Chan Young and I.

It's just us now. What do I say?

I go to the kitchen, hoping to find a good snack to munch on.

"Would you like something to eat?", I offer, opening the fridge.

"No, thank you. The water was enough for me", Chan Young declines. I close the fridge, wondering how I could get him to stay. Chan Young wanders to the kitchen, leaning against the counter, crossing his arms.

"It's pretty late, you can stay on the couch for tonight if you want", I continue, my voice shaking.

"I'm fine", he shrugs.

"Do you want me to stay?", he mumbles.

"If you don't want to stay, you don't have to", I choke.

"You just need some sleep", Chan Young whispers. I do. I do need some sleep.

"If I didn't throw up, would you have kissed me tonight?", I bow my head, looking at our feet. A soft chuckle hums in his throat.

"I would have", he assures. My hands tremble from the thought.

"I guess another time then", I turn to hide my growing smile. Chan Young steps in front of me and lifts my head by holding my cheeks in his palms.

"Till then", he whispers. He leans in, leaving me speechless. The tips of our noses touch. He shakes his head to give me a nose kiss. I could see the terror on my face in the reflection of his eyes. What I would give to kiss those lips. Just once.

Without sharing another word, Chan Young kindly leaves my apartment. Dammit, I realize now we didn't exchange numbers before he left! I guess if we see each other again then it'll be meant to be. Seoul is a big city, I doubt I'll see him. At least we'll have tonight to reminisce on.

#kdrama #korean drama #k drama #k drama original #kdrama writing #korean romance #korean boyfriend

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twoblueheartslocked · 4 years

Text

“Mini” Para: September/October Flashback(s)

Rating: PG-13/Soft R.

Pairing: Seblaine.

Sebastian: @colorsicantsee

Blaine: @twoblueheartslocked

Time: Four years before the events of ( Hold On To The Memories, They Will Hold On To You ) Events taking place in September and October of Blaine’s Senior Year and Sebastian’s Junior Year. Blaine (17 as of this para) Seb(16).

Location: Lima and Westerville, OH- Sebastian’s house, Blaine’s house, McKinley High, Dalton Academy, the apple orchard.

Info: A glimpse into the months of September and October and the progression of Sebastian and Blaine’s relationship. Blaine celebrates his 17th birthday on October 22 with Sebastian by his side. They’re closer than ever. Deep feelings linger just under the surface and slap Blaine in the face. Sebastian has never felt so much. They decide to take their relationship a step further.

Warnings(PLEASE READ THIS!): This para includes non-graphic and mild descriptions of sexual situations between minors. We’ve kept it as YA as possible. We are in NO way trying to spotlight sex between teens, we just wanted to show how natural and comfortable they are together and the progression of their relationship. It will be, for the most part, glossed over in the future until they’re older. There will be absolutely no smut written until they’re adults. If anyone feels we’ve taken it too far please let us know and we will fix it. (Under Cut for length and content.)

Extra Warnings: (This RP is not Kurt Hummel friendly. You’ve all been warned.)

Notes: Some canon events remain in place while others have been changed. Some things may even be out of order. You can consider this sort of canon divergent AU. A few changes are that Blaine’s parents are different from the show (His mother is Filipina), he didn’t cheat on Kurt or date Dave and Sebastian is younger than Blaine. Feel free to send a message if you have any questions!

Blaine’s POV:

The month of September had flown by Blaine in a whirlwind of giddiness and a permanent smile that Blaine didn’t know what to do with. If you would have told him a year ago that Sebastian would be the one to make him feel this way he’d have laughed. The Seb that had introduced himself to Blaine was too full of himself, too cocky and seemingly only wanted one thing. Sure, there were still little glimpses of the cheeky boy he’d met all that time ago, but the Seb he got to snuggle into and kiss whenever he wanted was so much more. They’d spent September getting to know each other a little bit better. School was in full swing and Blaine was only struggling a tiny bit to juggle time with his McKinley friends and Sebastian. His friends, with the exception of Sam, didn’t understand why Blaine wanted to be near Sebastian let alone with him. All they saw was the bully of the past, the one that had accidentally almost blinded Blaine. They were mad at Blaine for ending things with Kurt even though he’d told them that they both agreed this was better. He’d told them over and over again that Seb wasn’t what they thought at all, that he was good and could be kind and that he treated him well. But, Blaine couldn’t seem to articulate what their very real relationship meant to him. He supposed all that mattered was that it was real and pure and Blaine never wanted it to end. He wanted to stay wrapped up in this feeling and Sebastian for the rest of his life.

They’d spent September and early October taking turns going to each other's concerts. Blaine sitting next to a welcoming but stiff Mr. Smythe and a sweet smiling, sharp tongued Mrs. Smythe as Sebastian lead his Warblers in their croonings. And Blaine would get to shyly pull Sebastian into a hug afterwards and would always look up at Seb as if asking for permission to kiss him in front of his group, not knowing if it was acceptable or too much, to which Seb would blush a little, fight a smile and then lean down and press the quickest kiss to Blaine’s lips like they’d been steady and together for years. Blaine loved it. They’d even mastered ignoring the obnoxious whoops from Hunter. Plus, getting to go to Dalton more made it so Blaine got to see a few of his old friends more often, namely David and Nick which pleased him as he’d missed them both so much.

And Blaine loved it when he was singing up on stage with the New Directions and he looked out and saw Seb clapping along for him, sitting only a little awkwardly with Blaine’s sweet mother and his sleepy father. Sebastian always looked so damn proud and a little awed as he looked up at him on the stage, not a single jealous glint in his eyes. Seb would meet him backstage, his comments about public schools and the like long gone as he shrugged off the suspicious glances from Blaine’s other friends in favor of congratulating him with a ‘You were flawless, Killer’ and a smile that was built just for him. Seb would shake hands with Sam, the only one of Blaine’s friends that actually took the time to talk to Seb.

And as the seasons turned a little colder, Blaine relished in the way a faux grumpy Sebastian would curl into him as they’d take their park walks, groaning about how it was too cold too early even though it hadn't yet dipped lower than 60 degrees outside. It was how Sebastian had ended up with Blaine’s New Directions competition sweatshirt with his last name in big letters on the back. The sight of the garment on Sebastian’s body made him feel dizzy and stupidly happy. Everything about the two of them together, from the day time rides to look at the changing Autumn leaves, to the nighttime stretches of comfortable silence as they looked up at stars, Seb letting Blaine tell little stories about the ones they could see- it all felt perfect. And everytime he let himself get caught up in thinking too hard about what they were and what he was feeling, he’d pull Sebastian into his arms and kiss him so thoroughly that any feelings he might let slip stayed hidden behind his teeth.

It was as Blaine was sitting on the floor of his bedroom in front of his mirror on a crisp, late October morning (his birthday weekend to be exact), getting ready for a newly licensed Sebastian to come pick him up for his birthday date, his stomach flippy at the thought of getting to spend the whole day with him- that he allowed himself to really sit and think about the two of them. About what the last three months had meant to him. He looked at himself in the mirror, his brows arched, and eyes worried. He bit his lip as if he were about to have a scary and raw conversation with himself.

It seemed impossible but in a short yet wonderful time Blaine had fallen in love so hard he was overwhelmed with it. He wanted to scream it in the streets to anyone that would listen, yet he also wanted only to take it out when he was alone, safe under his covers so that only he could see and feel it. He chose the latter, of course. He was almost embarrassed by the emotion swelling inside of him.

Blaine had been in love before, sure, for a time he had loved Kurt. He truly had. But, over time his love for Kurt had changed, became more of a competition. Or maybe it had always been that way, he didn’t know anymore. They had just warped, and they had figured out they weren't actually very good with each other. Too many fights over nothing, and both of them kept reaching for control and neither one of them were willing to relent. Plus, most days it seemed Kurt wanted a trophy, someone he could show off not someone that could show himself off. And Blaine had spent all of his time trying to be the thing Kurt so desperately wanted and in the end, it hadn’t worked. Kurt was still annoyed with him and Blaine was still exhausted with it. So their relationship had left them both with a bitter taste. However, loving Sebastian felt different and being with Sebastian… it was like breathing. And the thought of not being with him felt a lot like suffocating.

It scared the fuck out of him how hard and fast falling in love with Sebastian Smythe had happened to him. One second he’s smitten and has butterflies that refuse to calm and the next he’s struck with a sure and bone deep feeling that Sebastian was it for him. He was so damn sure of it. Like fate and the universe and maybe even god were screaming it at him and yeah, he was only just seventeen but it felt real and desperate and extraordinary... but he was so afraid to mess up what they had. Afraid that if he asked for a label or spoke the feverish feelings he had for him out loud or too soon that Seb, wild and beautiful and free Seb, would just run away, slipping through Blaine’s fingers and he’d never get him back.

Their exclusiveness was unspoken- Blaine had stopped appeasing Kurt’s sporadic flirty texts and Seb had stopped going to Scandals, he only bothered with his phone when his mom called and he facetimed Blaine almost nightly before going to sleep- just to talk about nothing. They were together, he knew that. And he knew Seb felt something. The other boy looked at him like he was someone important, someone he’d be crushed to live without. But Blaine didn’t dare chance asking what that something was. Instead he kept his I love you close to his heart and called Sebastian his in his head even though he wanted nothing more than to tell him. To see if he’d smile that smile and maybe kiss him before maybe saying it back. The thought was incredible and Blaine was lost in it for a moment...

The ring of the doorbell pulled him from his whirlwind thoughts, and he could hear Sebastian greeting his mom- Imelda’s girlish giggle bringing a soft smile to Blaine’s lips. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, hoping he could get through the night without spewing poetry of love and devotion at Sebastian.

“God, get your shit together, Anderson. Don’t scare him away.”

He sighed and stood up before making his way down stairs, his face breaking into a smile as his tiny mother and his tall Sebastian came into view. “I hope you’re not giving Seb too much grief about curfew, mom. It’s Midnight tonight, right? I mean, it’s Friday after all.” He teased, knowing it was still an eleven pm curfew for him. His mom surprised him though, glancing between him and Seb before shrugging. “Maybe I’ll be asleep and won't notice.” She kissed Blaine’s forehead, making him blush. She gave him a pointed look that said no later than Midnight and gave Seb’s shoulder a squeeze before breezily making her way to the kitchen.

Blaine turned to Seb, smiling up at him before shyly tip toeing up for a hello kiss that said so much more than hello.

“Hey you. So, where to today? Any hints?”

Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian had never pictured this for himself. Okay, okay...yeah, sure he was only 16 and had his whole life ahead of him. He still never thought he’d have romantic gestures or somebody that treated him like a gentleman. When Seb pictured his future it was all business and school and Paris and him doing whatever he wanted even if he secretly craved romance and closeness beyond anything physical. Summer had changed things, though. He and Blaine had sort of fell together in such an easy way that it couldn’t be explained or replicated. September was full of dinner dates and kissing under porch lights and sharing jackets and hoodies. They were inseparable and Sebastian wouldn’t change a thing and he knew that was so fucking corny. It was true, though. His future seemed different now, he was different now. He didn’t miss partying at Scandal’s or sneaking out and he blocked numbers in his phone that he didn’t need anymore.

It was the week after Blaine’s birthday and it was their turn to celebrate together. Sebastian had learned that Blaine loved seasons and had experienced first hand how good he was at baking and cooking and had watched him hum to himself as he made various things for Sebastian to try. Sabine had grown used to Seb’s requests to have the kitchen to themselves and she had once again relented. He had planned to take Blaine to an orchard to pick apples and do other various autumnal things that he’d swoon over before they came back to bake apple pies. Sebastian tried researching pie ingredients but just confused himself. He was far from a natural in the kitchen. He asked their cook to write down the components for him in detail before he took the list to a grocery store and bought all of the various things needed to make a pie from scratch. He even grabbed a box of sugar cookies shaped like pumpkins and fall leaves and a pumpkin spice latte scented candle as an extra little gift.

Sebastian dressed in crisp, new jeans paired with his black converse and a Dalton Lacrosse fleece over a green and blue striped tee shirt. He sprayed some cologne (probably a little too much) and stole a cigarette from his mother’s pocketbook before leaving with his new (birthday gift) car. He smoked the cigarette and blared the radio as cold fall air rushed through the windows. Sebastian was excited to see Blaine’s face when he told him what they’d be doing that afternoon.

He parked his car in the Anderson’s driveway and rang their doorbell. Sebastian greeted Blaine’s mother with a gentle handshake. “Hey Mrs. Anderson. You look wonderful today.” She was a petite woman with big gold eyes that matched her son’s and a pretty smile. She patted Sebastian’s arm and giggled. Suddenly, Blaine was making his way down the stairs and Seb’s stomach did a little flip. After Imelda left the two of them in the foyer, Seb leaned down to meet Blaine half way for the small kiss that gave him a shock all the way to his toes. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to kissing the other boy.

“We’re going to an orchard. I thought that we could pick apples and then go back to my place to make pies. I’ll even try to help, if you want me to.”

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine reluctantly pulled away after their kiss, if he had it his way he’d have stolen a few more before they left. He truly could never get enough of Seb’s lips on his. Besides, Seb smelled so good it was dizzying. There was a faint lingering scent of cigarette smoke in Sebastian's kiss that just did something to Blaine, and he knew he should hate it, it was bad for Seb after all, but the taste and the rebellion of it all excited him in a way that would have embarrassed him if anyone else were to see. He wondered if Sebastian had stolen it from his mother again. He’d laughed at Blaine’s scandalized face when he’d confessed his bad habit, an easy sound that made Blaine feel giddy. The lingering smoke mixed with the strong cologne Sebastian favored left Blaine hoping the concoction of scents would rub off onto his clothing so he could hold onto the day later on. He pressed himself into Seb’s side, his arm slipping around his waist as they made their way to the car, his face turned up to Sebastian’s to listen to his words.

His stomach gave a little flip at the plans Seb had for them, that overwhelming first big drop of a roller coaster feeling and it all made Blaine smile so wide that his face hurt. It was like Sebastian had known him for years. Knew that he strived when he got to do the things he loved and had people in his corner while doing them. Sebastian, who he’d spent such a short time with, knew that Blaine loved to perform and sing and play and loved to cook and struggled at reeling himself in when he was caught up in his passions. It made Blaine want to blurt his feelings right there.

Sometime after transferring to McKinley… for Kurt. Kurt had started to resent him, or maybe he had always been that way with him. He could remember all the eye rolls over his impromptu performances at Dalton. How annoyed Kurt would get. And how Kurt had stopped caring when he did well, made Blaine feel like maybe he shouldn’t do well. This was the Kurt that would complain when Blaine would cook for him or roll his eyes when set up picnics for them in parks. He could still hear the ringing of Kurt's words in his ear; I used to get solos every week. And do you know how many times I've had to sit on a stool and watch you perform? Or the time Kurt had actually spit the cookies out that Blaine had spent hours perfecting because they were too sweet. Blaine knew he wasn’t perfect, but it always hurt. He didn’t need to be praised, he didn’t need to be told that he was amazing or have his ego stroked when he did well. He just wanted his boyfriend in his corner, wanted to impress him the way he did when they first met and as time went on Blaine wasn’t sure how to do that anymore. Things he felt passionate about had started to feel like taboo or things that might trigger Kurt and cooking became one of those things along with singing and performing and playing...

But with Sebastian… with Sebastian he felt everything so much. Here was this boy who showed up to every single show he did even though the kids at McKinley treated him like he was the same old bully, and he’d clap and smile like he’d never seen anything better. Sebastian who ate every single thing Blaine made for him as if it were the best thing in the world and made Blaine believe it, too. The boy who loved going on late drives and blasting bad pop music and who didn’t try to bend him into the shape of Blaine he wanted. Seb just wanted Blaine to be what he was and Blaine was so floored by it. He didn’t know it could be this way, that you could just be with someone. That you could compliment each other without venom.

“That’s so freaking sweet, Seb.” He stopped at the passenger door to Seb’s new, and incredibly expensive car, and turned before getting in so he could pull Sebastian to him, wrapping his arms around his waist so that their bodies were perfectly pressed together. He tilted his head back and tipped up for another kiss, letting this one linger for a little bit longer as a thank you. He smiled as he pulled back, his tone teasing. “Maybe I’ll let you cut the apples up for me.” He winked and got into the car. He’d let Sebastian do whatever he wanted as long as he kept looking at Blaine the way he was right now. Even if it meant ruining a perfectly good pie.

The whole ride there Blaine couldn’t stop smiling like an idiot. Every song that came through the speakers seemed to be written just for them in some way shape or form. Sebastian, who was used to sitting in the passenger seat, had even mastered the art of holding Blaine’s hand or knee while he drove. It even seemed as if the Autumn leaves were falling in glorious shades of reds and yellows and oranges as they drove through them. The cascade of color guided them to their destination, and as they walked up to the little shop to get their baskets for apples he couldn’t help but notice how good they looked together. Sebastian in his fleece and converse, his light brown hair perfectly swooped, looking soft and touchable and holding hands with Blaine in his dark yellow cardigan with fashionable brown and blue patches in the elbows covering a fitted dark red shirt and cuffed dark jeans, ankles exposed and showcasing his dark brown top siders. They looked like they fit together and Blaine just wanted to tell everyone that looked their way, that yes, they were in fact, together.

“We should get a bunch of this kind to make a sweet apple crumble pie and then go find the granny smiths so that we can make a caramel apple pie. You know, like the caramel apples they sell here? The tartness of the granny smith will pair so well with the sweetness of the caramel.” He grinned up at Seb, excitement in his voice as he looked around at the different shapes and shades of apples. His basket was looped in the crook of his elbow, and he was holding up a giant bright red orange Honey crisp apple in his free hand.

Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian watched Blaine walk through the apple trees and thought to himself that he looked fucking perfect. He nodded along as Blaine talked about the pies and wondered if he had bought any caramel. He didn’t think he had so he sent a quick, sneaky text to his Mom to see about acquiring some. “Those sound great.”

He laughed as Blaine clutched the apple in front of his face. “You look like Snow White.” Sebastian cocked his head and smiled, “I mean that in the best way of course. Like a prince.” He swiped the apple from the other’s hands and took a big bite of it before leaning in and stealing a kiss. “Let’s go pick some apples.”

The afternoon was spent with Sebastian reaching apples that Blaine couldn’t, tripping over rotten apples on the ground, and lots of laughing and kissing in between the rows of trees. They picked way too many and Blaine fretted over the price but Seb just waved him off and said he could take the extras home to his mom. He bought them a large apple cider slushie to share, biscuits covered in gooey apple butter, and apple dumplings with lots of cinnamon and vanilla ice cream. Sebastian encouraged Blaine to pick out some fudge as a part of his gift and bought them hot apple ciders for the ride home.

“When we get back I thought that we could watch a scary movie. After the baking, of course.” Sebastian squeezed Blaine’s knee and watched the road. “I mean, I know they’re one of your favorites.” It wasn’t a totally selfless act. He hated scary movies and scary things in general but he wanted to get close to the other boy on the couch. Seb thought that maybe Blaine would wrap his arm around him or pull him close since he knew that he got scared easily.

Sebastian mostly stayed out of the way in the kitchen. He did cut a few apples but they were so uneven that he couldn’t stand it (Blaine was fine with it but Seb was a bit of a perfectionist at times.) He did however score some caramel. Sabine had sent their housekeeper out and she had bought about five different types. “You can take all of the extra ingredients, if you want. You know I’ll never use them again. This shit is like mad science.” Seb was, however, an excellent taste tester and got to lick every spoon and have the first bite of the fresh pies at the other boy’s insistence. He put a red birthday candle in a slice for Blaine and sang him happy birthday. “Make a wish, B. Don’t wish for me because you have me already.” He winked and watched Blaine’s eyes crinkle with laughter in the dim candle light.

After they cleaned up their mess the two of them made their way to the basement. They usually found themselves down there. They’d made out on the couch a few times but it always got cut short by curfew or a rehearsal that needed to be attended. Seb had timed everything out pretty perfectly today so they would have plenty of alone time. He handed Blaine the remote and told him he could pick any scary movie on Netflix before he stretched out his long legs on the couch and patted the spot behind him.

“Come on, birthday boy. Just pick one!”

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine’s lips were still sticky with taste from the apple and kiss Sebastian had stolen from him. They were still curved into a smile as the two of them made their way around the colorful orchard of red, green and purple apples, pumpkins of various shades or brilliant oranges and greens on either side of them as they ate too many sweets and Sebastian bought him too many apples. His cheeks hurt from their laughter and his body was still tingling from each kiss. He was still blushing from Seb’s compliment, his cheeks heated in the October chill as they drove home, hot apple cider warming them up. It was like Blaine’s very own Rom-Com, something Sebastian secretly loved but would never admit to anyone but him and maybe his own mom. Blaine never wanted the credits to roll.

Sebastian really and truly was terrible in the kitchen, he didn’t know what things were called, he cut crooked and spilled sugar and caramel all over the place but Blaine didn’t complain, he absolutely loved having him there. Loved that the green eyed man would steal slices of apples and would make little noises that boarded on pornographic every time Blaine made him take a bite. His stomach hurt from giggling and he couldn’t keep a straight face every time he said “Stooop, Seb.” Because he didn’t want him to and Seb’s mischievous face made Blaine feel dizzy every time it was shot his way.

Not only had Blaine made four very expensive pies, Blaine had convinced Sebastian to keep one because why shouldn’t he? He had helped after all. He could share it with his mom and maybe even his father if he felt like it- Sebastian had also gotten him a candle that smelled like someone had bottled Autumn up and the cutest little leaf sugar cookies. It was no secret that Blaine loved sugar cookies of all shapes and sized and these had come from his favorite bakery. He also ended up with a bunch of pricey ingredients that Blaine already had Thanksgiving plans for. (Blaine’s mom had been encouraging him to invite Seb to the holiday dinner but Blaine had been too nervous so far. He had a whole month to work up the courage though.) Blaine’s body was buzzing with sugar and attraction and he felt like he may never sleep again.

His smile felt permanent as Sebastian sang to him in a silly voice that gave away nothing of the clean and pretty voice that Blaine had been privileged enough to her but, it made him laugh and Blaine could swear that the pie tasted even better with the red candle and song attached to it. He blushed for what had to have been the hundredth time when making his wish. Because he had, in fact, wished for Sebastian. He wished for him to be his always. To stay with him just like this, stupidly happy and hopeful. It was silly, and ridiculously romantic and high school relationships rarely worked, and they weren’t even voicing what they were out loud to each other, but he was over the moon with Seb and in love and god, Seventeen might just be his best year yet.

“If I told you what I wished for it wouldn’t come true and I really freaking want it to.”

He winked, trying to play it cool but inside he was bubbling with the words; Make a wish, B. Don’t wish for me because you have me already. It meant more to Blaine than Sebastian could possibly know, it told him he probably wasn’t alone in his feelings. “I’m yours, too you know.” He told Sebastian softly after they had cleaned up and made their way down the stairs. His stomach flipped when Seb pulled the basement door closed behind him. It was only 8:22 pm. Blaine had over three hours of alone time with Sebastian before he needed to leave. Seb’s mom and dad usually didn’t bother too much with them unless it got too late or Blaine’s mom called to check in on them or to remind them they had a practice to get to, but they had nothing but a midnight curfew tonight. Blaine’s mind was going crazy with what ifs as he toed his shoes off and placed them neatly against the wall and then shrugged his cardigan off and placed it nicely over the back of one of the chairs.

“Are you sure you want to watch a scary movie? Halloween is only two days away and you’ve already promised a spooky night then, you don’t have to torture yourself twice, you know.” He teased, taking the remote from Sebastian's fingers. “We could watch an Autumnal rom-com and call it night.” He laughed, smiling with the tip of his tongue between his teeth, flirting to hide his nerves. Seb seemed intent on watching something scary for him though and Blaine couldn’t be mad, he’d get the chance to hold him all the more when Seb got scared.

Basement didn’t seem to fit this room. It was huge and finished and could basically be a luxury apartment. There was a bar and a living area and a bathroom and a game area that rarely seemed used. Seb had turned off the lights leaving them with just the glow of the big screen. It was dark and intimate and Blaine hoped he didn’t mess up as he grinned at the other boy before climbing over Sebastian’s body and pressing himself between the back of the soft, wide couch and Sebastian’s lithe body. How many times have they made out down here, their hands all over each other's arms and neck and fingers pressing into hips and tangled in hair and jawlines? Usually there was more light on and they had less time, but they had so much right now. He licked his lips as he snuggled into Seb’s back, propping himself up with his free arm so that he could see the television properly as he tried to focus on the movies. He settled on Scream.

“This film has a really badass final girl and the boys, though dumb, aren’t hard to look at either. Plus, it’s not so scary that you'll be calling me at two in the morning because you can’t sleep. Not that I’d mind.” He grinned and kissed Seb’s cheek before reaching up to lie the remote down on the end table. The tips of his bare toes were tangled up in Seb’s socked feet and Blaine smiled to himself as he pressed even closer. Sliding his arm around Sebastian’s waist when the other boy tensed up at the visual of Ghost Face chasing a screaming Casey around. And somewhere between the death of Steve and the loss of Sid’s virginity to that idiot Billy, Blaine found himself watching the veins in Seb’s neck move each time he got scared more than the movie.

He bit his lip, wondering if Seb had thought about maybe taking things further than kissing and while Blaine totally didn’t need that, he was insanely happy with kissing Sebastian Smythe breathless- yet he still found himself moving forward until his nose was nuzzling into Seb’s hairline and then he was pressing a kiss to the back of his freckle dusted neck, tentatively at first asking for consent, and then kissing from the back of his neck and down the side and along the long expanse of it, stopping the suck gently where his neck met his shoulder when Seb gave it by turning his head so Blaine could do it better. Blaine could feel the other’s heartbeat in his lips. Sebastian tasted like a crisp Autumn day and apples and Blaine let out a little noise of pleasure, his fingers tightening in Sebastian’s shirt where he was holding him close, knuckles pressing against Seb’s stomach, their bodies lined perfectly together, his excitement too evident.

Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian’s lack of horror movie knowledge might have been embarrassing if he cared. Sometimes Hunter gave him shit about how he never understood certain movie references or how easily he jumped at simple scares. He’d act all tough before whatever movie Hunter picked began and then wince at the first loud noise. Sebastian had never watched Scream and that fucking mask was sort of creepy but it was Blaine’s birthday so he just nodded and encouraged him to turn it on.

He felt a flip in his stomach when Blaine crawled over him to cuddle up against his back. This was a good sign. Sebastian had been daydreaming about taking the next step with Blaine for weeks. He didn’t want to pressure him or make a fool out of himself or prove the rumors that Santana had started about him at McKinley were true. Sure, there was some truth to the problematic shit the New Directions said and Seb acted like he didn’t care but it wasn’t like that with Blaine. He didn’t need his stupid friends pointing fingers at what they had when what they had was so perfect and all he wanted to do was keep it safe. All of that being said, they seemed to fall on the same page like usual.

Sebastian tried to focus on the movie and the attractive cast but could feel Blaine’s breath against his neck (which was a very sensitive area for him) and could feel his strong body pressed close against him. Even the scares were dwindled a little bit with how distracted his mind and body felt.

He swallowed and squirmed a little when he felt the other’s lips against the back of his neck. There was no way Sebastian would ever be able to focus now. Blaine’s lips were on his skin, his hand knotted in his tee shirt and his breath ghosted along his hot skin. Seb’s neck fell back naturally as if they had done this a million times and he sighed. He could feel Blaine through their jeans and his pulse jumped, his hands felt shaky and everything felt brand new and real. Sebastian turned his head, “kiss me.” He wanted to taste Blaine’s lips, he knew they’d taste like sugar and the cherry chapstick that drove Seb crazy. Sebastian put his free hand on the other’s jaw and looked into his eyes washed in the blue glow of the tv.

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine tried his hardest to keep himself from getting too eager at Sebastian’s words, but his skin was buzzing and he was full of want and a desperate need to be as close as possible to his person. He let out a slow breath, sliding the arm that he was propping his head up with down and under Sebastian's head, cradling it in the crook and moving Seb’s body so he was on his back. He was so thankful the couch cushions were deep and they both fit perfectly. His eyes roamed over Seb’s face, taking in the perfect slope of his nose and front teeth visible between parted lips before settling on Seb’s eyes, the blue of the television making them look like the sea meeting a blue sky and his breath caught as he was once again struck with how damn attractive Sebastian was. He licked his lips, wanting to show Sebastian how much all of this meant to him. Make sure that the other boy knew that no matter what happened he’d still be head over heels for him in the morning.

He leaned down and pressed his lips against Seb’s and his eyes fell shut as his tongue traced the line of his lips before slipping past teeth to tangle with Seb’s. His fingers that were tangled up in Seb’s shirt moved to slowly slide just underneath it, his callused fingertips caressing Seb’s sensitive skin just below his belly button. His breathing was shallow as he pulled back and turned his body so he was lying on Seb’s hip, his top leg hooking over Seb’s leg that was closest to him. They were so close, so perfectly lined up that Blaine was struggling to keep his cool. All he had to do was scoot just a bit more and he’d be fully on top of him. His heart fluttered at the thought, but he held himself in place, he didn’t need to go that far tonight, they had plenty of time for that, forever if Blaine had it his way. What Blaine really wanted to do was touch him, wanted to make Sebastian squirm under his fingers. He wanted to make it so that the other boy forgot about anyone else that came before him. Seb had told him a few stories, the fun ones along with the bad times he’d had. He knew about the Lacrosse boy and Scandals with older men he’d met and how he’d had a scare with one of them before and Blaine wanted to show him it didn’t have to be like that. That sex, of any kind, didn’t need to be fast or uncomfortable or awkward. He wanted to make him feel good and wanted and safe.

“Can I, um-touch you?” He asked, his lips close to Seb’s ear, stumbling in his nervousness and his desire to make this perfect. He could feel as much as hear the word Please breathed against his neck sending shivers down his spine as Seb pushed his hips against Blaine’s crooked knee. He pulled back so he could look at Seb in the blue glow as his fingers, shaky and nervous, inched from his belly to the button on his jeans and then the zipper was down and then the fabric was pushed down and away and there was nothing between them as Blaine wrapped his fingers around Seb and leaned down, kissingkissingkissingtouching until Sebastian was squirming and gasping into his mouth and Blaine was pressing himself into Sebastian’s side for the friction and the world warped and blurred when the other boy purred his name and held onto Blaine as Seb fell apart like putty in his hands.

Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian knew that the moment may have seemed simple compared to some of the things he had gotten up to in the past. None of that shit would ever compare because this was Blaine, Blaine who paid attention and asked permission and who kissed him with his eyes closed. Blaine, who Sebastian actually wanted to kiss and hold hands with and go on dates with. He would trade all of his messy nights for this one moment with Blaine’s strong hands on his skin, his lips all over his neck and lips and his little moans and gasps.

Seb sighed and squirmed underneath Blaine. His hands were in his hair and it was totally going to be sticking up at random angles when this was over. He could feel him pressed into his side and that paired with his hand and his kisses was all it took for Sebastian to unravel underneath the other boy.

The two of them held on to each other, all ragged breaths and desperate touches as they clung together. Sebastian leaned in for one last, deep kiss before he pulled away with a toothy smile. He laughed and shivered, his body still reeling from the moment. “Can I…?” Sebastian placed his hand over the other’s zipper to ask permission before he crawled in between his legs and slid down his body.

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine’s lips were swollen with kisses and he was achy with so much desire caused by everything Sebastian and the way he had fallen apart under his fingers. The vision was beautiful and he’d pretty much forgotten about himself until Seb was grinning his imperfectly perfect smile, his teeth on full display and asking with a breathy laugh and then moving himself down and down and down and Blaine was breathing pleases into the air as screams from a forgotten horror movie played in the background. His fingers kneading and then pushing at Sebastian’s shoulders and hair, tousled in their touches, trying to warn him that he was falling, but Seb was relentless and Blaine fell so hard he saw the stars.

His hands were shaky when he pulled Sebastian up to him for another kiss, grasping at him to keep him close as if he’d fade away and Blaine would never find him again no matter how hard he looked. And for a terrifying split second, as Blaine looked up into Sebastian’s green blue hues the words were there iloveyou and they almost slipped right past his teeth and lips and into Sebastian’s ears. His breath hitched and his words thankfully stumbled because how naive did you have to bed to tell someone you loved them right after sex just because you felt close them? He knew what he felt but he also knew how bad that would go and everything was so damn perfect right now. So his bit his lip and stole another kiss, his hands cupping Sebastian’s face gently, like he might break if he moved too fast.

“I guess we missed the movie.” He said it as if it actually mattered and let out a sudden laugh, his face so hot he wondered if Sebastian could feel the heat radiating off of him. He let his arms slide from Seb’s face and down to his waist and turned them so that they were once again facing each other. He ducked his head, feeling the shyest he’d ever felt as he nuzzled into Sebastian's neck.

“I- that was amazing.”

Sebastian’s POV:

Sebastian wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and laughed. His skin felt hot and he could tell that he was covered in goosebumps because every time Blaine touched him he felt overexposed and sensitive in a really good way. It felt like electricity sparking under his skin or like a whoosh of chilly winter air and it made his stomach jump and his voice catch in his throat.

“We can watch it again someday, I mean...if we don’t get distracted.” He closed the space between them and stole a kiss before he nuzzled into the other’s neck for a moment. “It was. Are you happy?” Sebastian kept his face hidden for a moment, his cheeks red at the sudden vulnerability.

“This is great but um, I really need to change.” He bit his lip to stifle his laugh. “Come upstairs with me. You should probably clean up,too. We’ll use my bathroom.” The two of them made their way upstairs, giggling and poking each other and tripping over themselves as Sebastian shushed them only to laugh some more. He pulled Blaine into his bedroom and quietly shut the door. He pointed at the bathroom in the corner of his room so that Blaine could tidy himself up a bit as he changed his pants. Seb felt giddy and satisfied as he pulled on a grey pair of sweatpants and changed into a white and green quarter length sleeve baseball tee. He glanced at the alarm clock on his bedside table and felt a surge of sadness because Blaine needed to be home soon which meant they probably needed to head to the car. Sebastian wished Blaine could just stay the night and that they could climb into his bed and cling together and fall asleep laughing and kissing and sighing.

“We should probably head out soon.”

Blaine’s POV:

Blaine tried not to laugh but the sound slipped out and he shook his head, “Something tells me we’d end up getting distracted, I’ll tell you all about it if you wanna know how it ends one day.” He let his arms rest gently over Sebastian as the other boy snuggled into him, hiding his face like he was suddenly the shy one. He wanted to laugh and tell Sebastian that he was the happiest he’d ever been in his life. Wanted to tell him about the crazy fast rush of feelings he was experiencing over him. But, he bit his bottom lip instead and smiled, his eyes wide and honest as he nodded eagerly in response. He blushed, looking down between them and he was so grateful that he had a cardigan to put on over his shirt.

“I guess you’re right.” He mumbled, his blush coming back full force at the thought of why they needed to clean up, before standing on wobbly legs. He picked up his shoes and his cardigan and followed Seb up the steps and into the main floor of the quiet house. The giggles and teasing felt good and cooled his blushing for a moment. Sebastian’s lightness and giggles were contagious and made him feel giddy and alive. When he came out of the bathroom he had to look away for a moment, Sebastian looked so damn good standing there in those damn sweats and all Blaine wanted to do was see if the bed was as comfortable as it looked and maybe pull Sebastian down with him and kiss him until they fell asleep. And he knew they needed to leave if they wanted to get him home on time but he wanted one more kiss, one more little memory to add to the night. He licked his lips and stepped closer to Sebastian and slid his arm around his waist, pulling him close, his head tilted back and his face open, his free hand snaking up to rest at the back of Seb’s neck to pull him close.

“Okay.” His voice was soft, because he knew Seb was right. “Just one more minute...” And he kissed him good and slow for a few more minutes, his heart thumping in his chest with a happiness he wanted to keep forever.

By the time they left the Smythe’s, pie and candle and left over cookies in hand, Blaine’s stomach was in knots because he didn’t want to go. He wanted to curl up next to Sebastian in his big blue bed and press a kiss to the back of his neck before falling asleep. He was actually a little sad about it and as they pulled up in front of his dark house he hoped that Seb wasn’t reading it as if he were sad to be there with him. It was very much the opposite. He turned in his seat, his eyes scanning over Seb’s face, “This was like, the best birthday ever, Seb.” He smiled, his thumb brushing gently over Sebastian’s, not wanting the night to end but knowing he had less than ten minutes to get into his house before Imelda Anderson went from the sweetest woman ever to grounding him with the most disappointed look on her face. She had given him an extra hour, he didn’t want to disappoint her, but he wanted to make it clear to Sebastian that he meant something to him. (without pouring his heart out like an idiot) He cleared his throat before taking a deep breath, his smile shy like they hadn’t just been incredibly intimate with each other. His voice soft as he spoke.

“I really am happy, Seb. Are you?”

Sebastian’s POV:

“I’m glad you had a good day.” Sebastian lifted Blaine’s hand that he had been holding and kissed his fingers. “I am, B. Promise.” He leaned forward and gave him a small kiss before they had to exit the car. Sebastian didn’t want Blaine to be late. He helped him carry his various items to his front door and kissed him goodnight one last time. “Get inside. I can’t have Mrs. Anderson mad at me.” Sebastian ruffled Blaine’s disheveled hair and winked as he walked backwards off of the front porch.

The ride home was spent hardly paying attention to the music that was playing but replaying the events of the day over and over again. The orchard, the pies, the kissing and touching. Blaine had even been in his room for the first time which gave him a little thrill. He had never had anybody (besides Hunter or like, the housekeeper) in there. Blaine had held his face and kissed him slowly and he could have melted into the floor, or even better, fallen into the bed with him.

Sebastian had promised to text when he got home safely. He sent three blue heart emojis from his driveway and smiled when the other boy responded quickly with three red ones. He sat and thought in his car for a few minutes and couldn’t help but find his mind thinking about everything that the future had in store for them. Halloween and Thanksgiving and all of the dates in between. Sneaking into the basement to kiss and inviting Blaine into his room, never finishing a movie ever again, dinner dates and maybe even school dances.

He was so damn happy.

/fin.

#Mini Para: September/October Flashback #seblaine #twoblueheartslocked #colorsicantsee #seblaine para #seblaine canon divergence #mini para

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thegeminisage · 4 years

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hey liz i've been thinking a lot about story structure lately and i wanted your take on how you decide what structure your stories will have? i know there's that "you have to do what your story needs and tells you to do" thing but these bitches dont ever tell me anything they just multiply so. thoughts? - bma

(as an aside, i don't know whether involving medium would change many things but it may be worth considering. mainly i think medium is just a matter of arrangement and that the story would be for most intents and purposes the same no matter how you choose to tell it. i guess you could argue that structure is arrangement in itself and intrinsically tied to medium but i sort of feel like it is secondary arrangement, if at all? like if you consider time as an element to outline -- the time IN the story (how things happen to your characters) is not necessarily the time you’re telling the story IN (how you are telling your reader that things are happening) aka internal chronology doesnt equal your work’s pacing? or should it??? does this make sense? i dont think so. i am sorry.) - bma :|

NOOO dont be sorry ur making total sense

i think there’s 3 thots to unpack here (medium, structure, & chronology) & i’m gonna start with medium bc it’s easier. im also putting it behind a cut bc it’s gonna get just stupidly long and rambly. i’m sorry in advance if it’s not helpful to you, i have a lot to say for someone who has never taken even one single class on writing and as a result doesn’t know jack shit (there’s a tl;dr at the end dont worry)

about MEDIUM:

so like ok i’m just some goof-off with a HS degree who writes fanfiction but In My Very Super Qualified Personal Opinion, i don’t think that most of the time medium is intrinsically tied to STRUCTURE of the main storytelling arc...i think the art of storytelling itself is distinct from the medium you choose to tell the story IN. this post puts it better than i ever could but basically for me, i feel like the story itself is sort of the raw, malleable concept, and the medium you choose to tell it in is how you convey the information??

like in a book, you can say “she forgot her keys” and in a film you have to show her smacking her forehead, heading back into the house, and swiping her keeps off the counter. you can’t TELL in film, you have to show. similarly i regret every day i cannot perfectly describe a facial expression with words when i see it so clearly in my head. for audio-only podcasts that are dialogue heavy out of necessity you have different limitations than you would for, say, animated music videos with no dialogue at all. games allow for more interactivity and exploration while sacrificing accessibility, tv shows allow for more length while sacrificing, uh, a big hollywood budget...medium affects the kind of story you can reasonably tell which is why some stories are better suited to one medium than another. i think trying things in other mediums is a good way to stretch your storytelling muscles but with enough skill nearly any story could be told in any medium. i think when trying to decide on a medium you just gotta weigh the pros & cons and what you feel comfortable with/what you think would be most effective/what would evoke the strongest reaction

re: structure:

firstly “do what the story tells u to do” is a little silly like...the story isn’t sentient. come on. that’s like “i can only write when the writing gods inspire me” there are no writing gods! inspire yourself! it’s all in our weird messed up brains! ok anyway.

this is, again, just how i do things, and i am 700% self-taught so take it with a grain of salt, but when i sit down and start blocking out a story from scratch i don’t...actually consider the big structure at all! sorry if that’s not helpful to you. i like to make a list of everything i want to happen, and then put it together in a few different orders to see what looks best. and when i’m finished, whatever i have just like...IS the structure i go with, with perhaps minor tinkering to make it flow more smoothly. (i think this might be in the same spirit as “do what the story tells you” with less bullshit and more Agency Of The Writer.)

for long and more complex projects, i actually usually have several lists - one list of stuff that is, for example, the Action Plot (the kingdom has been cursed, i’m tracking down my serial killer sister to bring her to justice, i’m running from djinn who wanna kill my dad, i’m trying to bring my dead not-boyfriend back to life). then i have another list for Character A & Character B’s romance or whatever. and maybe a even another one for solo character development (magicphobic prince learns to love magic, former werewolf hunter figures out his family is a cult, half-demon learns to embrace his own nature). and as many lists as we need for however many Main Characters and or Plots/Sideplots

how i order the lists: individually first. don’t mix them together to start with. when deciding the order of an individual list i like to, for example in a romance arc, use escalating intimacy. “A and B have dinner together” is naturally gonna go way sooner than “A and B kiss” or “A and B talk about A’s angsty backstory” because that’s more satisfying. draw it out, good/important stuff last, dangle that carrot so we have a reason to keep reading! for singular character development, it’s basically a straightforward point A to point B...if i want my guy to start hating magic with everything he is and end up being very comfortable with it, i have to put “reluctantly uses magic to save his own life” WAYYY before “casually using magic to light torches and reheat his cold stew.”

the tricky part for me is when i’m done with these lists and then i need to mix them together To Pace My Whole Story. (this is usually why i wind up with a rainbow colored spreadsheet.) i don’t like to put too many things too close together because then the pace feels uneven. even if my Action Plot is only a thinly veiled excuse for romance and character development, i still don’t want to focus on a romance for 30,000 words and then go “and oh yeah in case you forgot Serial Killing Sister is still coming for your asses.” the more sideplots and major character arcs you’re juggling the harder it is to get an even distribution, which is my main concern always

and like, generally, whatever i have when i’m finished...is my structure. (sorry.)

i don’t know much about the classic 3-act or anything like that, but i usually can divide them up into 3-5 big arcs based on story turning points. sometimes i take a scene out of one arc and put it in another because it fits better and i like for my shit to be organized, but usually by the time i’m finished with all that, that’s what the final story is mostly gonna look like. (there have been a few exceptions when i realized i needed extra scenes/changes while i was MID-DRAFT and let me tell you that murders me EVERY time. it happened on the merlin fic i’m currently posting and that was like my own personal hell.)

this is also where thots about chronology come in:

i think time CAN be an element of this if you WANT it to be, but it doesn’t HAVE to be. if you want it to be, i would consider it just another “list” like character development or the romance arc.

i usually plot without considering Time very much...to me, it’s all down to the events you want to show, and however much time it takes is the byproduct. if you want to show something from a character’s chilhood but then tell the bulk of it when they’re adults, that’s one thing. if you want to show a scene from their childhood, teenhood, young adulthood, etc, that’s a different kind of pacing?? i usually do it this way so i can regard time like wordcount: it takes as long as it takes. 3 days or 3 years, a 1.5k drabble or a 100k epic...overall, my LARGEST CONCERN is that even distribution. in the same way that i don’t want one chapter to be 30,000 words when the rest are 10,000 words, i personally am not a fan of huge timeskips offscreen

(because this where i think someone’s own internal chronology DOES matter...this is just a personal preference, as a reader i have a hard time really comprehending, say, a year timeskip or a 10yr timeskip when all i did was turn one page. like, a year is such a long time. i can’t even begin to describe how different i am now to how i was a year ago. it’s the same for character development. time IS development and as a writer i’m not really comfortable having that take place offscreen - for main characters, at least. it’s just too jarring. a little prologue with something happening 10 or 20 years ago is usually fine, but for the most part, i’m not a fan. ...i can do one chapter per year a lot easier than i can do two chapters in childhood and the other 8 in adulthood. of course you can play with this a LOT with nonlinear storytelling, which is a whole other very cool thing, and someone skilled in their work can keep me sucked in no matter what, but imo if you don’t want to risk throwing your reader out of your work it’s better to keep things steady)

HOWEVER sometimes time IS an element u wanna consider outside of just making sure your shit is evenly distributed...if your heart is moved to tell a story in a specific timeframe, over a year, or from solstice to solstice (this was almost the timeline for my merlin fic and then i changed it), for the first six months of a friendship, or even a huge journey in the span of a single day (toby fox had a lot of success with this one lol).

i think it can help to choose a start and end point for your chronology the same way you do for character development (prince goes from hating magic to being ok with it, story takes place from ages 8 to 25, or from new year’s eve 2038 to 2039, whatever) - that way you can keep your distribution even, if that’s a thing you want to do...even if you have a lot of skips you can still note what happens offscreen to make it work better in your head? like, if you just make it another List, another column on your spreadsheet, when you’re in the early stages of organizing you can be conscious of it and make sure it’s playing into the story the way you want it to

anyway these r my thots im SOOOO SORRY this is so long lmao. brain machine broke today which is why i had to ramble more to explain myself. the tl;dr in case ur brain is melting out of ur ears & u didn’t sign up for an essay:

imo medium is totally distinct from storytelling tho ofc some stories are better suited to some mediums

structure? i don’t know her. i plot w/o regard to structure and then if it looks funny i mush it into a more structurally sound shape

my main concern when structuring anything, including time, is an even distribution of Events and a steady rate of escalation

structure to me is just what i have when i’m finished plotting. i’m sorry one day i’m gonna take a writing class

internal chronology matters to me personally because i have a little bit of time blindness but maybe not to everyone, i know many very successful stories where they disregarded that entirely to no ill effect

writer’s block isn’t real! everyone just needs more rainbow spreadsheets

thank u for asking I HOPE i didn’t make you regret it too badly lmao and that at least a little of it was helpful!!

#personal #liz loves writing #liz answers asks #brit marling anon #i couldn't figure out how to answer u without walking u thru my entire process #so that's what i did and that's why it's so long. very sorry.#im gonna set this up to reblog itself at the time u sent ur ask so that ur sure to see it!!#edit: there was SUPPOSED to be a cut on this but tumblr put it in the ASK?? i can't seem to fix it. rip

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