#i think PL will take film and maybe director but i could see them giving it to todd | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yojeongin · 2 years

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EVOL — I WANT YOU FOREVER

→club pres!renjun x publicity officer!reader

genre: smut, humor, fluff, romance, slice of life, coming of age

tw: ADULTS ONLY, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! oral sex (f receiving), fingering, hand job, virginity loss, protected sex, drinking, mentions of creepy guys at bars (please stay safe), praise kink, pet names, so much kissing.

wc: 7.2k+

m.list | previous | next

disclaimer: this is purely fictional; in no way am I condoning this behavior, trying to offend anyone, nor is it meant to place such image on the idol, these are only characters. read at your own discretion.

an: and we have reached the end with some smut, this took forever cause I just couldn’t get in the mood and I still don’t fully like it but anyways here we go <3 thank you guys for giving this series sm support!!

ps: I’ve made a spotify for this blog since I tend to get inspired by songs a lot so pls check it out, I tagged the evol playlist here and on the masterlist but the entire acc is linked in my master post (future fics and current fics playlists are being added rn)

How you and Renjun managed to get a room for the both of you, you couldn’t really tell.

Well— maybe you could, with the help of Chenle who convinced the sponsor that since you both were an item, it was most economical to just get a single bed room for the two of you.

To say the least the sponsor couldn’t really give a shit, the festival had paid for the hotels and plane tickets but if it made you all more comfortable then so be it, it’s not like he hasn’t spent more on the production overall (the things having money can do).

Of course when you had arrived at Jeju Island where the film festival was held and to the hotel, you had contacted your mother who very reluctantly had let you go.

Like the over protective mother she was, she had almost gotten in touch with the sponsor to ask for details about rooms and even to see if she could go after knowing it would be you with a bunch of men, despite you being in your 20’s.

Knowing Chenle, Beomgyu, and Haknyeon were there didn’t help calm her down, it made her weep. She knew well they were very sweet boys but when letting loose, they were insane and their supervision on you would be gone.

You and her had hope in Genie attending as well as the second stylist but when a job interview was moved up to the dates of the festival, her fear only grew.

Nevertheless she got over it when you had landed and showed her the room, making Renjun go to Chenle’s room and pretend as if you had gotten a room on your own.

Now it was the night the films had been presented all day and night. The heels Genie had set up for your outfit had been killing you and you had been nearly sleeping on Renjun’s shoulder for the majority of the ending.

“On a scale from one to ten how bad do you think Chenle will flip out whenever they give the results tomorrow?” Renjun questioned, hand in hand whilst the both of you walked towards the shared room through the cold halls of the hotel.

Awkwardly smiling, you shrug as a response. “A five, I think his plan to sweet talk producers into giving him an internship is more solid. He’s been attached from the hip to that one director.” Renjun simply smiled, nodding at the memory of his friend bothering the older man.

“I'm a little scared of what we’ll get. That one kid did a really good animation and the metaphors— damn.” He laughed again, his key card pressed against the pad.

Just as you were to reply to him, the smell of roses had made the both of you stop in your tracks. Warm yellow lights illuminated the room and your only worry was that you were set up in a cheesy romantic setting.

To your luck there weren’t any rose petals, only the smell of them on the sheets and artificial candles plaguing the room just to be safe, a note in the middle of the bed. ‘Thank you for your participation, compliments from The Arthouse Festival.’

“Well… this is nice, right?” Renjun scrunched his nose, shrugging as he read the note again while you rummaged through the basket full of gifts and sweets. “Do you think if we pretend to be married they’ll give us more stuff?”

Renjun stood next to you, giggling when he saw they had given you a couples gift card to a resort restaurant.

“We should, I want entrance to the massage parlor.” Grabbing two glasses for the wine you were gifted, he poured them in as you made your way to sit on the corner of the bed, your feet still killing you.

Handing you a glass, he giggled at an idea he just got. “Mrs. Huang… rolls nicely off the tongue doesn’t it?” Clanking your glasses together as he stood in front of you to cheer for all that’s been given to you.

The cold glass up to your lips, you threw your head back to let the liquid into your mouth, sipping it in hopes it would be tasty.

Wincing at the taste while he seemed to enjoy it, Renjun took your glass with small giggles. “Didn’t like it?”

Shaking your head whilst scrunching up your nose he giggled furthermore. “Mr. yln sounds good on you.”

Renjun sounded off the entire name in his mind, smiling at how it’d look on paper. “I’ll be your househusband. You can be a UX Designer, making apps cute and conventional while I’m the stay at home husband who does photography as a hobby while I keep dinner ready, the house clean, and I give you massages after every shift. How does that sound?”

He leaned in to leave a soft kiss against your lips, the taste of the wine sweeter on them than it did in your throat.

“You’ve put a lot of thought into this scenario. Do you really want to spend a long time with me?” You both knew it was a stupid question. In the span of almost a year, Renjun had fallen harder for you than he could have ever imagined.

He loved you enough to the point that every time he saw you, he shook from how excited he was that you decided to spend your time with him, no matter if he was your boyfriend.

Renjun felt like a little kid getting to try their favorite treat for the first time even with just one glance you threw at him— that’s how ecstatic your presence made him and it truly still baffles everyone that this entire thing went from slightly one sided with you liking him to Renjun being as in love as you are with him or perhaps more than you could ever love him.

“I said it when I asked you to be my girlfriend— I want you to be with me forever, even when you don’t want me anymore I’ll want you forever.”

They sounded sweet and they were sincere, his eyes sparkling yet trembling whilst his hands caressed your face.

No words could leave your mouth, almost as if it had been glued shut after not being able to find anything as romantic to say to him. Opting to instead wrap your arms around his torso and pulling him closer to you.

Your head resting on his lower abdomen, the warmth of his flesh radiating through the thin fabric of his shirt to your cheek.

Renjun smiled tenderly down at you, his own arms coming around your neck and softly threading his fingers through your hair. Tingles of his delicate touch made you shiver and only caused you to pull him much closer to your body.

“What’s the name of the restaurant? I need to look up the menu.” “Um… I’m not sure but the card is behind you. I think it’s one of those restaurants with like ten course meals.”

Your grunt made him chuckle. To say you were a picky eater was an understatement and if they had you eating food concoctions you didn’t understand— you wouldn’t have much fun.

“They should’ve just given us the money in that case.” Your scowl turns to a pout, burying your face in the fabric of his shirt.

His hands smoothing down your hair the more you embrace him; “I still think they should’ve given us a gift card to the massage parlor.”

Looking up at him with a forming smirk, your hands made their way from his waist to just down exactly his ass, giving it a squeeze and causing him to yelp.

Laughter emitted from both your lips as he held your hands in place. “I could do that, you don’t need a masseuse.”

His laughter died down and instead looked down at you. The way your lips pouted while feigning jealousy of anyone touching him. Not only your lips but the wide eye look you were giving him as you held him close to you, chest pressing tightly against his— no.

No, Renjun didn’t want to push it.

But it didn’t get easier as you two kept talking, unconsciously you’d pull him closer to you. Those early (or perhaps not as early) stages of wanting to be as close to each other as possible.

If you’d hug him a bit too tight, your body would grace his crotch, it’s warmth not helping him ignore the growing bulge in his pants. At this rate he feared you’d notice it but perhaps you’re opting to ignore it.

Renjun wouldn’t doubt these past nights have been difficult when it comes to his normal issues. Sure you both have laid in his bed and cuddled before but someone was always in the house so you’d both know nothing would come out of it.

Nothing compared to these days in which you’d wear shorts and a cami to sleep in due to the summer weather. Laying in the vast bed but closely next to him.

Usually you’d be the one to sleep later but Renjun had brought a book in hopes of picking up a new hobby and would stay up later.

In those hours you’d tussle around occasionally but always ended up with your head on his chest, arm around his waist, and leg across his lower body.

That’s when the problem came in. While the summer weather was horrid and would sometimes beat the hotel’s AC, the room got colder at night and instead of being uncovered as he read with you holding him— when the AC gave all of its potential, you’d get closer to him without a clue that your hard nipples from the cold would make him freeze in his spot and make him hesitant to even hold his hand near the area when he had been holding you all night.

It was no problem the first night, he didn’t even notice. The second night he did notice but his shyness and the red of his cheeks made him just pull the covers up to you fully so he could have his arm wrapped around you while reading.

Just last night though as you slept in the same position, cuddled up next to him and his arm around you holding you in place, his hand caressing the skin of your upper arm— the same thing happened except for the fact that your movement to get comfortable next to him was dragging down the cami slightly, the strap falling and your collarbones highlighted, a clear view of what he tried to avoid.

It didn’t help that your leg was on top of his lower half again, calf rubbing below where your chest is at right now, thigh on display and his hand holding onto it, grasp tightening slightly to lower begin his tender touching of running his hand up and down.

The memory alone made Renjun shudder for his thoughts towards you. Opting to sit right next to you, his hand taking yours into his while continuing to converse.

Though it became one-sided quite quickly when Renjun began to ramble about how maybe the restaurant would have a great view as you were in Jeju and was now regretting not bringing his film camera.

“No but then the x-ray machine would fry the film. Actually I don’t know, in Germany I took it with me but bought film and developed it there so— what?”

Upon noticing the glossed out dazed look in your eyes: a loving stare and your smile growing wider as he spoke— Renjun felt the strings is his heart being pulled.

He knew you were listening but he also knew you wouldn’t stop gawking at him so he only chuckled, leaning in to capture your lips in yet another tender kiss.

His right hand traveled behind your waist as his left hand held your neck, deepening the kiss when you mimicked his actions, fingers caressing the back of his neck.

Parting your lips slightly, Renjun’s tongue graced against your own. The open mouthed kisses became feverish the lower his hand traveled, as of now resting on your hip.

“You look extra pretty today by the way.” He broke the kiss knowing you both were running out of breath, his lips peppering the flesh of your cheek, lips softly traveling to your neck.

The warmth of them in contrast to his wet kisses on your flesh made you shudder, holding onto him as he began leaving small open-mouth kisses on your flesh.

“You think I’m pretty?” It came out giddy, your grip on his shoulders tightening when he lapped at a certain spot. “You’re beautiful, yn. The prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

His words made you feel like you were on top of the world, becoming giddy to where you made him turn just to pull him into another passionate kiss. Such actions followed by the both of you laying on your sides, holding each other.

Legs entangled with each other’s, his hand gripping your hip before running it up and down softly. In this moment as his tongue swiped across your lower lip and his knee had accidentally brushed against your aching arousal, you tried so hard to muffle the moan that left your lips.

You could feel him smile into the kiss as he took the opportunity to slip his tongue inside your mouth, coming in contact with yours. Both muscles basking on the velvet feel of each other. Your own hand cupping his cheek to deepen the kiss you two were sharing.

Renjun felt ecstatic to know he was having an effect on you, just as you had been the past few nights.

Nevertheless he deepened the kiss and began to nibble on your lower lip, his free hand moved to pull you closer by your hips, pushing you closer even by a lower region.

You groaned against him upon feeling how erect he was now, your hand going from his cheek to his neck. Your grip on his neck tightened a bit, he could feel how desperate you were becoming.

Renjun’s knee would begin to rock in between your legs making you bite his lip from time to time trying to hold off as you’d continued this feverish make out session. Renjun’s hands would twitch on the spot they laid on, obvious restrain within. Despite his needs he was still going to respect what you’d dictate.

You felt yourself need more air, slowly letting go from him “Wow…” you’d giggle, still holding onto him. He chuckled, pecking your lips and cheeks as you regained your breath.

“You okay?” He’d question, his lips slowly moving from yours and cheeks to your jaw, leaving open mouth kisses, your eyes fluttering slightly as his lips found themselves on your neck again, leaving a tingling sensation on it.

Taking his hand that rested on your hip and pushing it down the skirt of your dress, letting his hand rest on the hem of your underwear, “Mhm… you can touch me, Renjun. It’s fine…” he halted his actions, moving to look at you. “Are you completely sure? I’m fine with just making out…” you’d nod again, hooking his fingers to the hem now.

“I want you to be ready, yn. Not just because we’re horny from making out.” Chuckling despite his fingers shaking a little, the anticipation to pull down the fabric still lingering. “I’m ready, Junnie. I’m extremely comfortable with you, I want you…”

You weren’t necessarily the type to wait to have sex with someone you loved, you always thought if the offer was presented and the other person seemed like someone you would be comfortable with— then so be it but it never came and when it did you always felt uncomfortable with whoever offered.

To add on that, sex had become something you didn’t crave often nor was it that important to you anymore and often opted to listen to the stories your friend’s would tell (quite honestly a big reason it had put you off).

At some point you had become comfortable just being a virgin who still had dated no one despite having some prospects in the past who never seemed to match what you wanted despite how much they thought they did and when Renjun came into your life— that comfort had shifted.

You wanted to say you hadn’t fallen for him instantly but after those few days of interacting and immediately having everything in your mental checklist crossed out by him— you could only think about him. From how often he pouted despite not wanting to admit it, the birth mark on his right hand, and his bright smile when felt flustered about anything.

He smiled softly before leaning in for another kiss, his fingers finally pulling down the fabric of your underwear before whispering an “I love you.” You shuddered when you felt his fingers so close yet so far. His fingertips danced on the inside of your thigh as he worked to open your legs furthermore.

You held onto the nape of his neck whilst your other hand mirrored him and made its way to hover over his strained cock, they were soft touches not entirely sure if it’d be comfortable for either of you since he was already crouching enough to put his in between your legs.

As you’d copy his actions and unbuckled his slacks, struggling to unbutton them but eventually doing so, you pushed your hand down them, gracing his hardened cock firmly. Taking it out, slowly pumping it. Renjun moaned into your mouth, biting your lip softly as he tried to not make much noise.

Your hesitation became prominent from time to time in fear you weren’t doing well but whenever your thumb caressed his tip and small noises began cascading from his lips onto yours the more you continued, the hesitation lessened.

Renjun could tell you were somewhat embarrassed for being inexperienced and though he didn’t take advantage of it, he couldn’t help but enjoy the idea of him being your firsts. Even feeling the warmth between your legs exude to his fingertips was enough to let him feel pride that you were enjoying what he was doing to you.

His tender touches, taunting your clit. His fingers formed slow and soft circles on it to first notice how much of the build up you were enjoying.

“Renjun…” That’s what he wanted to hear.

Upon hearing his name leave your lips in adoration, leaning it to kiss him, his ego boosted more. His circling picking up the speed and his fingers occasionally leaving your bundle of nerves to collect your arousal on them.

It seemed his kisses helped you eased up; his index finger taunting your entrance and coating itself with much of your arousal enough to slowly penetrate you. Slightly startled, your grasp on his cock softening and his quiet shushes telling you it was alright.

You knew it was alright, this was just new to you. It felt different than the times you tried it yourself but only ended up hurting yourself. This time Renjun did his best to slowly insert his finger inside of you. It didn’t feel as uncomfortable and what was left only dissipated when he began slowly moving it.

While he continued to finger you and added a second finger which made the pleasure presentable, you returned the favor by softly tugging up and down his shaft. Your thumb collecting every bead of fluid leaving the tip and using it as lubrication to continue.

Renjun loved the soft feel of your palm around him, how smoothly it went up and down his cock, and how your grasp would slightly tighten, giving him a new found sense of pleasure.

His moans were silent but that’s because he wanted to focus on your pleasure, still thankful you wanted to make it fully mutual. Renjun wouldn’t deny that after almost a year he was glad he could finally do this with you, to make you feel good and know he could even with just the bare minimum.

“You’re doing so good, baby.” He cooed against your lips, his fingers picking up the pace and when you were to respond, only moans left your lips feeling delight when the tip of his fingers had reached a certain spot. When he watched you start hesitantly squirm around, Renjun chuckled in satisfaction.

He kissed you again, letting your moans cascade into his mouth while he curled his fingers, pumping them in you at a fast pace, the ball of his palm rubbing against your clit which made the feeling grow and your moans louder.

You were feeling something you’ve only felt once before at your own hands and hadn’t been able to get again so to now have your boyfriend bring that ecstasy with just his fingers, you couldn’t help but stop your actions on him and instead held his face again, pulling him in for a passionate kiss.

“Fuck I think I’m going to cum. Renjun, oh my god— Keep doing that, please, fuck!”

With your juices flowing down his hand, coating his other fingers and palm, Renjun did as you said for the exception he went faster even if his hand would cramp up.

Anything for your pleasure.

Squirming around not being able to handle it much, the coil in your lower stomach was slowly easing. Your legs giving up on you, separating from the kiss to bite on your lower lip.

Renjun only continued until you finally came all over his hand, your panting and whimpers making a smirk rest on his face.

He did this and he was proud of it.

Once you relaxed, you smiled at him. Your lips connect with his as a thank you for making you feel this good.

After separating from the kiss to regain your breath, his hand which remained in between your legs made its way to his lips. The digits intruding the cavern of his mouth and his tongue poked out, wrapping itself around them to savor you.

He didn’t break eye contact, watching your chest rise up and down faster again, your legs shutting to cause friction, and your swollen lips parted in anticipation for what he’d do next.

“Taste as sweet as you are.” His words despite lewd were also making you feel giddy. Feeling the heat in between your legs rush to your entire body from how flattered you were by his words. “I think I want to taste more of it.”

As he said it, Renjun lifted from his position beside you. His hands rushedly removing his jacket and unbuttoning as many buttons from his shirt just to settle between your legs.

You shifted as well, laying on your back and bringing pillows to rest your head on. Bunching up your dress up to your stomach, Renjun took it as an opportunity to part your legs furthermore, letting your calves rest on his shoulders.

The view before you was glorious. It was exactly how you imagined it sometimes. With his head between your thighs, laying soft open-mouthed kisses on your inner thigh that interchanged with the warm muscle his tongue was, raking it across the same areas he had just kissed.

The closer his lips got to your aching cunt, the more you felt your abdomen clench. His lips teasing and gracing your labia.

Throwing you one last glance, Renjun smirked against you. His tongue taking soft licks on your slit. Gradually those kitten licks transformed to his tongue laying flat before the tip of it teased your clit.

You could only grasp the fabric of your dress and closed your eyes letting him do as he pleased which thankfully worked out for you.

His low hums vibrated against you, whenever he’d lap his muscle on your nether region, your arousal accumulated on his tongue; swallowing it with pleasure and satisfaction.

Renjun truly did like your taste. He mostly liked that you were this wet from things he’s doing and his ego kept inflating more than it had this entire night.

His hand gripped your thighs, holding you in place whenever you squirmed around if he did something you were liking.

Eventually it felt like a kiss, like the ones he’d been laying on you all night. His jaw slacking to take in your cunt, tongue taking in the leaking beads, and ending up on your clit, sucking on it when the cycle ended only to repeat a few more times.

Quite honestly it felt much better than being fingered but you were thankful he was doing all this all for the sake of your pleasure.

Your legs shuddered around his head, caging him in the more he made you feel good. His lips were shimmering from the gloss you produced.

“Renjun, you’re so good at this…” you moaned out, hands reaching his hair to tug slightly. His tongue lapped at your clit with a pleasure that was bringing you just as close as before.

You felt that tingling between your legs every time his tongue pressed against your entrance as his fingers did.

Between his lips surrounding your clit, sucking on it as his fingers created dents on your skin, and his tongue ran flat up and down your folds— you couldn’t help becoming a tad sensitive.

It wasn’t until he pulled away to gain air, leaving kisses on your thighs and leaving the print made out of your fluids; he spoke. “I want to be buried between your legs,” his tongue lapped at your aching cunt, collecting every drop of arousal.

Moaning against you, he blew warm air. “I want to taste you all the time, I want to feast upon you as if it’s my last meal— I want you all the time.”

His profession was followed by more moans, the vibration on his lips made your legs weaker. They shook more insensately now as he continued his devouring, drunk on lust and pleasure.

He himself was aching, his cock hard and leaking every time he heard you moan and hold onto him for support. Especially when your thighs kept closing him in.

If he ever separated his mouth from you, his fingers would replace his assault on your clit. Rubbing soft circles on it and causing a painful anticipation.

As long as you were feeling great, he could endure the restraint of not pleasuring himself or asking to be pleasured.

You felt that same pleasure from when his fingers were in you. A tingling between your legs and your chest, your stomach cramping in the least painful way to let you know, you were about to come again.

That knot in the pits of your lower stomach was unraveling the more his tongue lapped at you, making sure to get every single taste.

And slowly as he toyed with your clit making it more sensitive than it was already becoming, your moans mixed with whimpers. “It’s okay, baby. Come, come for me.”

His sweet tender voice made you even more sensitive. He looked at you as he said those but soon his glossy lips would wrap around your clit, sucking on it to finally give you that release.

You couldn’t hold out for much longer so when his tongue went back to licking up from your entrance to your clit, you held tightly onto his hair. Letting the most disgruntled moan you could muster and letting your orgasm slip from you. Enough that Renjun’s chin was getting coated as he moaned against you.

Despite being worn out already, the lewd sounds he made between your legs along his kisses on your sensitive area kept the desire of wanting him more.

When your breathing calmed down, Renjun lifted himself up, crawling to your side and encasing you in an embrace.

“Doing okay?” he questioned, his lips finding yours. You could taste yourself on him, most of his lower face covered. Upon realizing he had just done all this for your pleasure, you felt a tad bit shy; breaking the kiss to bury your face in the crook of his neck.

“If i knew you could move your tongue like that I think I would’ve asked you to get between my thighs long before.” Renjun laughed at your words, he himself feeling shy.

With your face in the crook of his neck, you took initiative now. Your lips found his flesh, wrapping itself on it as your tongue lapped at an area before leaving soft tender kisses. Your hand had left his waist and made its way to his cock.

He was painfully hard that when he felt your touch, he winced, jutting his hips towards your hand. You smirked against his skin, feeling delighted he wanted your touch as much as you wanted his.

Your fingers wrapped around it, softly pumping it before picking up the pace. With every whimper he let out as you kissed his neck and the pleasure of your hand, you increased the speed along the tightness in which you held him.

“ynie... You’re doing so good, baby. You’re making me feel so good.” His free hand had stopped your assault on his neck, cupping your cheek to make you turn and look at him without breaking eye contact. Renjun seemed to be the type to hold every type of intimacy during sex. He liked to reassure you with his sultry voice, something new you’ve found him to do.

His praise eased the fears that you wouldn’t be able to pleasure him due to your inexperience but he was enjoying it and he let it be known not only by his words but his desperate kisses and hips thrusting into your hand.

Oh he needed his own release.

You felt him slowly leak onto your hand, his moans becoming louder and breathy against your lips. “I want you in me. Right now, Injunnie…”

He bit his lower lip, your touches on him creating a sensibility he couldn’t handle. “Fuck, I ca— no wait.” His hesitation confused you. Watching him shift, hovering above you a bit. “What? Do you want to stop?” You questioned, your hands rubbing on his thighs to calm down whatever he was feeling.

“No, not really but I don’t have any condoms.” He nervously laughed, his hands taking yours and soothing your skin with his thumb. His eyebrows knitted to show he was sorry but it only caused you to smile, relieved it wasn’t because he felt uncomfortable.

“I figured,” You allowed a breathy laugh to slip out, pecking the corner of his lips. “So I took some from Chenle’s bag…” Scrunching your nose feeling quite embarrassed, you stood from where you were. Taking the opportunity, you removed the straps of your dress from your shoulders, letting the dress collect on the floor.

Renjun bit his lower lip, a smirk forming at the site of your nude figure. He himself took the opportunity, removing any remaining clothing and thanking you when you handed him the foil packet. “When?” Ripping it open, he rolled it down his shaft.

You replaced his hand, fist twisting around him just to hear his breathy moans again. Leaning towards his ear, chest to chest. “This morning actually, when he was getting ready. Yesterday when we went to that bar and you pulled me onto your lap because that guy kept bringing me drinks despite all of you telling him to fuck off— it was really hot that you kept running your hand up and down my thigh and how possessive and protective you were.”

Renjun gave you a slanted smile to comfort you. He was glad you thought so but he was actually quite angry and scared last night. It was truly so fucking frustrating and frightening seeing how pushy men can be even when the guy was aware you were being protected not only by him but by three other guys so Renjun really wanted to keep you on him. Literally.

Pecking his cheek, you pulled him down with you. Your back against the mattress getting comfortable as he was. “Alright, make me yours even more.” Your sweet smile was making him spiral. Leaning down to encase your lips in yet another kiss from many this night, his hand took his hardened cock, pumping himself before his hips moved forward, the tip teasing your entrance.

“Let me know if you feel uncomfortable, okay?” He looked into your eyes wanting to be completely sure you were enjoying this just as much.

Nodding as a response and wrapping your arms around his neck, he took it as a response. Sinking himself slowly in you, he would hesitate when your whimpers sounded in pain. His shushes and tender kisses helping you relax as he lets you move at your own pace.

Despite how aroused you were and how wet he had made you, a pinching feeling wouldn’t stop whenever he tried to go deeper. It’s not like it lasted, it’d disappear from time to time when he allowed you to get adjusted but your reactions didn’t stop him from worrying about hurting you.

“Shh, it’s alright. I’ll go slower, don’t worry baby.” He had already reached your hilt, fully deep in you. It’s not like you were in pain right now but you still tried to catch that sense of comfort that for a few seconds wouldn’t come until you began to relax your muscles again.

He had been kissing you during this time, trying his best to calm you down in any way. So when you felt like you were finally ready to have him move, you broke the kiss panting softly before speaking. “It’s fine now, I can handle it.”

Renjun took in your words, searching your features for any discomfort and as he felt you swiveling your hips slowly, he himself nodded this time. His forearms caged your head in as he began to softly move in you. That sting from earlier easing into the pleasure of feeling full.

He instantly began to spill his moans, the pain of holding himself off for most of the night catching up to him. You clenched your walls around him, adding more pressure to how sensitive he already was.

“Fuck! If you keep doing that I’m going to come already.” He let out in a breath, neslting his face in your chest to plant kisses on your breast hoping they’d muffle his cries.

To taunt him, you did. Clenching around him again which ended up on his thrusts becoming rougher. Burrowing himself deeper and his thighs beginning to snap against the back of yours, your moans became louder.

Fingers clawing at his back whilst holding tightly around him, you felt that sense of pleasure the faster he went. His pelvic bone began rubbing against your clit, making it more sensitive than he had left it from his touches on it.

You felt warm around him, soft too. He liked being buried deep in you, it felt extremely good. Maybe it’s because he loves you more than any of his past flings and lovers but he thought this was the best he’s ever had.

Your scent intoxicated him no matter how active you’ve both been in this past hour. Your moans were entirely melodic against his ears, your kisses and touches a fine gift he’s been presented, and your taste was a delicacy that couldn’t get enough of anymore.

He was truly smitten by you and the fact that you trusted and loved him enough to allow him to be your firsts in everything made him feel glorious. Your first kiss, your first boyfriend, your first time…

With how much he adored you and the fact that he was too sensitive to last much longer, Renjun picked up the pace furthermore. Whenever his hips pulled back you could feel your arousal slide down your ass and onto the sheets.

When he plunged back in with a great force that had been proven delicious to you— his tip would grace a spot in you that made you tingle, your entire body hit with ecstasy just like the kind when he had eaten you out.

You yourself couldn’t hold much longer. With him fingering you, eating you out till he was covered in your essence, and his deep thrusts that lowered his hips to stimulate your clit— you were becoming overstimulated and you felt that with just a few more thrusts, you came undone around him.

The image alone of how he’d react was making your chest heave, calming down with his kisses on your nipples before swirling his tongue around the nub.

“Renjun…” You moaned out. Your legs were giving up on you that when they dropped, he took one of them and hooked it around his waist. The position making it easier for him to rub against your clit even more and his cock to go deeper, that moan from earlier getting louder.

“I can’t hold up much, baby, please…” You whined, you're rubbing on your clit as of now. Fuck, even now you were still wet. Wet enough to gather what he’d push out and begin to use your middle and ring finger to form circles around the abused muscle.

Watching you squirm around like earlier with your lip in between your teeth, and your eyes closed as you helped pleasure yourself, was awakening something in him. His thrusts getting slower but rougher (enough to still not hurt you but making you feel on cloud nine).

Lifting himself a little more to see the full image, Renjun felt his cock twitch. He could feel come spurt from his tip slowly at the image before him. “I need you to come right now, pretty girl. Do it for me, please.” His words only caused the fire in your chest to rise.

Your body was burning and you were so near that you tried closing your legs, clamping him in but his force to keep them open only arousing you furthermore. His thrusts were becoming sloppy the more he tried to restrain himself from moaning out loud.

Turning his head downward and watching his cheeks sink in before sticking his tongue out to let his spit fall where you two were connected, Renjun picked up the pace. The image had made you moan in distress, aroused by how even more hot he looked in that second.

What came out from your lips sounded like cries. Sensitive from all the pleasure he was causing upon you and making it painful to even keep your legs open, you pulled him down to you, lips connecting with his for yet another kiss.

Renjun knew this was your plea to make you feel good, to finally let you have that release that you needed so badly or you were going to cry from how good it all felt. He wouldn’t deny he’d love to see how much more pretty you’d look with mascara smudged tears running down your face because of the pleasure he made you endure but right now he was going to do anything to make you reach euphoria.

Your kisses were sloppy, gnawing at his lower lip and tongue caressing his. With every thrust he gave his tip connected with your sensitive spot. His hand had gone between your body and began rubbing at your clit again, it was only a matter of seconds until you came.

“You feel so good, Junnie…” You praised him in between whimpers, screwing your eyes shut when his fingers picked up the pace. Your legs continued to shake and your whimpers became strangled moans of his name. You had finally let go, the restraint on the knot in your stomach was gone and the image of your body falling limp against the bed where you fully shook in pleasure was enough to make him come as well.

You felt too good, too good that you continued to chase that feeling of being done. Your panting was shaky and Renjun did his best to help you relax, even smoothing his hand over your hair. He could see some tears slipping, it ignited something in him but right now he was too exhausted that instead, he slowly pulled out of you to not hurt you furthermore.

When you had finally calmed down and your body shook only slightly; you winced trying to move. Renjun had sprinted to the restroom to throw away the condom and clean himself off before damping a hand towel with warm water and rushing towards the bed to help you sit up.

“You alright, pretty girl?” His voice was soft, using the cloth to gently clean up the mess between your legs. You nodded seeing how tender he was, a smile on your face when he rushed to the mini fridge, pulling out a water bottle and handing it to you when he noticed you were parched.

“Yeah, I think I know why Ceena kept chasing you for so long. I can’t believe you’ve done that with other girls, I can’t breathe now.” You feigned being hurt, enough to clutch the flesh of your chest to which he embarrassedly laughed before removing your hand and soothing the area you had accidentally scratched.

“No but seriously, thank you.” You answered this time, taking his hand into yours and tugging at it to let him know you wanted to lay down. “You don’t have to thank me, I’m your boyfriend.” He chuckled, pulling you to his chest and enveloping you in a tight embrace.

“I think I’m the one supposed to thank you for giving me the honor of being your boyfriend. For letting me experience these things with you, I really love you, yn.”

His words were making you feel like putty in his arms, a warmth in your heart swarming and making a pout form on your lips. You couldn’t say this enough but you truly were grateful you found someone who loved you like you always wanted to be loved.

“You’re everything I’ve ever asked for you know. I feared relationships because I didn’t want my expectations to be shattered by an asshole who didn’t match whatever I made myself think love is. So when you came in I was genuinely scared for what I was feeling because I had never let myself feel that way towards anyone and you really pushed it,” You laughed, looking up at him. “Even if you weren’t trying.”

His lips found your forehead, a tender kiss yet again. “So I’m really thankful you match my expectations to the tee and that at least I am what you want in a partner. Despite how insane I’ve made you to be.” Renjun laughed recalling how much out of his shell you were making him grow as he was you.

“I love you too, Renjun. So fucking much.”

Renjun sighed softly, his hands caressing your skin. “If I’m honest I was scared when you came into my life too. I spent the longest time telling myself you were being friendly and trying to push you onto any other guy you were close with because I was scared of being hurt again but eventually I learned that— you could never do anything to wrong me.”

It was hard for him to say. His last sentence came out in another sigh. “So again, I’m glad we came to our senses because I don’t think I can live without you.” His eyes were twinkling, his swollen lips planting another kiss to your forehead. “I want you in my life forever too.”

taglist: @eggoyu @haknyeonsju @daegalfangirl @haechansgfreal @butterfliesinthenightsky @lyleo @haechansittinginatree @dojun00 @fylithia @kosmiks @renjunniex @carayat @meltinghershey

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hoodieofholland · 3 years

Note

Here is an ideia for a smut concept: Tom as been very stressed with work and one day he and the reader are going at it and he can't come and feels really bad and embaressed and the reader makes him feel better about it. Write it only if you feel comfortable about it of course. I love your fics by the way.

A/n: loved this concept so much, hope you like it. Got a bit long again lol ❤️ thanks for your comment :)

Masterlist Request/tell me your thoughts on this!!

NSFW content bellow

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, fingering (f rec), cockwarming, bit of angst, unprotected sex (pls use protection!!)

"Tom, I'm putting your bag in the car, okay? Have you got everything you need?", you shout as you crossed the corridor of you and Tom's bedroom with his bag in your hand. Both of you were in your way to the studios, Tom has been shooting Spider-Man 3 for a while now. With busy schedules, you two barely had the the time neither the energy to spend some time alone, so whenever you had a break from your work, you'd take the opportunity to make him company in his work. Right now, you were running out of time to make it to the studios in the right time, as you and Tom drifted in deep sleep and almost lost your time.

Tom didn't answer from the bedroom, and you decide to pop your head through the open door to check on him. "Hey, did you hear- Tom?"

You look at you boyfriend, who's currently sitting on the edge of your bed, elbows prompted over his knees and staring at the floor with nothing but a sad expression on his face.

"Tom? Is everything alright?" You ask softly as you drop the bag on the floor and make your way to him.

He glanced back at you with a sorry look, eyes dropping to the floor again as you kneel down and touch his thigh. "What's going on, baby? What happened?"

He sighed, brushing his hand over his face and pulling his hair a little. "I don't think- I don't think I can go today, y/n".

Confused, you furrow and straight your back to take a better look at him.

"How come?", you put your hand on his forehead as to check his temperature, a worried look on your face. "Are you sick? You feeling something-"

"No, darling, it's not that", he sighs impatiently. "I'm sorry, it's just that... I don't feel good, y'know? I'm tired. Like, really exhausted".

You blink a few times, trying to catch what he was saying, though you already new what it was all about.

You've seen Tom work really hard throughout the last three years, filming and being involved with a lot of projects. You always felt so proud of him, but at same time worried about how overwhelmed he might feel. You simply knew this day could come, and now there were you, taking a seat beside him and brushing his hair out of his face to reassure him.

"You've been working a lot, Tom". You say in a low and careful voice. "It's absolutely understandable that you feel tired".

Tom sighs and throws his body back on the mattress.

"Okay, I just need to... take a large cup of tea. Do you think you can get me, love? I promise I'll be down in five minutes, I don't think they'd be truly mad if I got twenty minutes later-"

"No, Tom", you sigh, climbing up on bed to lay beside him. Resting a hand over his chest, you look up at him. "You're not going today, okay? We staying home and taking a break".

Tom scoffed. "I can't just skip job, y/n", he sighed.

"Tom, be honest with me" you propped your elbow on the mattress and support your head on your hand. "We were about to head out for, like, half an hour ago and you can't seem to get out of bed yet. You're tired, it's fine. I'll call the team and tell them that you don't feel so good".

Tom grimaces and rub his hand over his cheeks. "That's not professional of me. I- I have a contract, I have people that are counting on me- I have you here, and it wasn't even your job to follow and help me while I'm working, but you're still here and I feel so stupid for being such a pussy and not being able to-"

"Thomas Stanley", you say sternly, lifting your body to sit on bed. "Don't you dare saying it again. Baby, you're so hardworking. There's no doubt in anyone's head about how dedicated you are and how strenuous you get with everything you're involved with. But you're human, Tom, and you're exhausted. There's no need to be ashamed of it".

Tom sniffs, pressing his nose with two fingers as he tries to gather his composure. He wasn't feeling like easing himself about it and you could feel it by the way he closed his eyes tightly.

"Okay, that's what is going to happen", you say, getting up from bed and clapping your hands together with determination. "I'm gonna call the directors, gonna say that you don't feel good and tell them you're sorry about it, but that they'll need to postpone the filming. Then I'm gonna run you a bath just how you like it and we're gonna order dinner, maybe some pizza. What do you think?"

Tom gumbled, feeling vexed that he couldn't argue with you, because you were right - there was no way he could go to work today. He knew if he tried to, he'd do a shitty job and feel even worse that he'd need to waste everyone's time again to redo it.

So he silently nodded, and you give him a small softly smile.

After calling the studio and telling them about Tom, you filled the bathtub with a warm water and his favorite bubbles.

When everything was ready, you called him out from the bathroom and reassured him some more, kissing his cheek as you gave him time to undress and get in the tub.

"I'm not getting in here without you", he stated, pulling his shirt off his head, a kind smile on his face. You bite your lips as you watch he taking his jeans off, his white boxers beautifully on display for you.

"It's supposed that you relax there. It's gonna be tighter if I get in with you, and you won't be able to spread out".

Tom snorts and gives you a smug smile. In no time, he grabs your waist and pulls you closer to his chest. "No way I'm buying that, love", then his feature turns goofy all of a sudden. "C'mon, I need you there with me. Hold you real tight so I can relax a little, eh?"

You laugh at his attempt and end up giving up, shoving his chest playfully to pull him away enough to take out your clothes.

Tom gets rid of his boxers, entering the bathtub next. Whilst, you are taking off your jeans. "You still coming?", he teases, eyeing you shamelessly. "Hurry up, darling, the water is amazing".

You poke your tongue out and giggle when get completely naked, testing the water temperature before entering it slowly. When you were about to sit in the opposite seat, in front of Tom, he shook his head and took your hand, signaling for you to come closer. “You’re too far. C’mere”.

Narrowing your eyes in a little protest, you did as he asked, not being able to turn down the offer to sit with your back pressed against his chest.

“You were supposed to be relaxed, Tom”.

“Well”, he wrapped his arms around you, hugging your body in the most comfy way possible. “How am I supposed to relax when my girl is right on the other side and not this close to me? See? Much better now”, he lowered his head to rest in the crock of you neck and you giggle for the tingle his breathe sent over your wet skin.

“You relaxed now?” You ask as your hands play dismissively with the bubbles in the water.

“Yeah”. He takes a few seconds to answer, and when he does, you can’t seem to believe in his words.

You turn your head to look at him, a furrow on your face. “Tom...”, you say in a concerned yet stern tone. “What’s up?”

He sighs and lifts his head from your neck. Chewing on his lips lightly, he looks at you. “I still feel kinda guilty. I mean, I was supposed to be working right now, and instead I’m taking a bath with you... It kinda of- embarrass me”, he confess, lowing his eyes to the water, a light pink flush on his cheeks.

You pout, feeling bad that he was still with that thought on his mind. Turning your body just enough to hold his face on your hands, you caress a finger on the smooth skin of his cheeks. “Tom, you shouldn’t be embarrassed for taking care of yourself. You’re just taking a day off, it’s not that big of a deal. No one would want you to have a breakdown in order to get work done, alright? Look at me”, you ask softly and he does so. “I’m so fucking proud of you, my love. Should never doubt that”.

His face lightens up a bit and you smile. “Okay?”

His eyes wander through your face, a bright shine on it as he seems to save every part of it. “Yeah. Thank you, darling”.

“Alright”, you smile wider. “Now, if you mind, I’d like to enjoy my bath”.

He laughs and holds you tighter, pressing his forehead to yours. “What would I do without you, my sweet girl?”

“Probably not much”, you joke, and he chuckles.

His voice is low and his face is centimeters away from yours. Two of his slender fingers rest on you chin as he brings you closer. “C’mere”.

It’s a matter of seconds until your lips as touching in a slow, sweet and soft kiss. It’s calming and relaxing, and you feel yourself melting in his arms. Tom parts his lips, and so do you, allowing his tongue to enter your mouth and touch yours seductively. Your hand goes straight to his neck, fingers curling up in his hair to bring him closer, deepening the kiss.

When he pulls away, his hands are on your waist, smoothing the bare skin. “Love you so much, darling”, he murmurs. “You’re just fucking perfect”.

You smile before bringing him to kiss you again. “Love you too, Tommy. So, so much”.

His lips are a little rougher now, tongues waging a battle as both of you get eager with the touching. You can feel his member pressed against your back getting hard, just in perfect sync with your pulsing heat, starting to claim for some sort of attention.

"Shit, that's relaxing", he says through kisses and you giggle, turning your body around to have a better angle. "Love these lips".

"Yeah?", you whimper as his mouth traces a new path, slowly going down your neck.

"Yeah" he breaths over the wet spot on your sensitive skin, and you shudder. "Love kissing your neck too. The way you get all excited 'bout it. Love how you get goosebumps over it. Always so responsive to me".

"You make me feel good, Tommy" you breath out, eyes closed as you enjoyed the moment.

His lips stops right on the edge of your shoulder, biting it slightly as a smirk makes its way to his face. When he's facing you again, you can tell his eyes are darker.

"Wanna make me relax, love?" He asks, voice husky. You nod once, fingers tightening on his hair.

"Tell me what can I do, Tommy?" You ask lowly, brushing your nose over his, though you knew the answer already.

Tom brings one hand to lay flat on your ass, squeezing it, while the other rested on your back. The tip of his tongue traces a wet path over your lower lip. "Ride me, darling, would you? Wanna feel you around me, this close".

"Mmm", you bite your lip to refrain a moan as you nod. You turn your body completely now, facing him, legs positioned to straddle him. He was hard already, his length pressed against his abs, the tip red and needy for you.

Tom's hand slides down your side from your back to your core, feeling your wetness and you buck your hips against his slender fingers. "Gonna prepare you for me, love".

He presses two fingers over your clit, rubbing it delicately in smooth circles as he watched your face draw all the pleasure. Though the feeling of him collecting your arousal to lead his fingers through your slit was already overtaking, you knew you wanted something else, so you touched his arm and pulled it away from you, taking his cock on your free hand.

"I want you now, baby. No foreplay".

He smirks lazily and helps you straighten your back, as you pumped him a few times, thumb caressing his tip and spreading the pre-cum. He growls, and you can see the veins on his neck outlining with the pleasure.

His grip on your ass gets more firm and you smile smugly as you position his cock right in your entrance. You brush it from your folds to your clit, teasing both of you a bit, before sinking down on him slowly. Tom closes his eyes at the sensation of your walls holding him tightly, coursing by every bit of his length that enters you.

You moan as soon as you feel him completely inside of you, walls adjusting to the stretch he gave you. Tom brings you closer, your boobs now pressed against his chest as both of you breath heavily.

“Shit”, he says. “So tight”, with the feeling of his teeth sinking on the skin of your shoulder, you buck your hips forward, to create some kind of friction, but Tom stops you right there. “Can we stay like this for a while?”

You look at him, hands grabbing his hair softly. “You don’t want me to move?”, you bite your lips when he nods, hands caressing your back up and down.

“Yeah. Wanna feel close to you and just-“ he breaths sharply and a deep groan comes through his throat at the feeling of your involuntary clenching, “just take it slow. Fuck, you’re gonna make it hard for me”.

You giggle and press your forehead to his. “I’ll behave”, you let out a heavy sigh. “You feel so good inside me. So deep”.

Tom takes the moment to kiss you, tongue slowly invading your mouth, in a messed way, as both of you released grunts and whines for the feeling of having each other so connected.

"You're so good to me, darling", he says when you pull apart, thumb tracing your puffy lips. You shudder at the feeling of his cock throbbing inside of you, closing your eyes briefly. "My gorgeous girl, taking such good care of me. Feels so snug around me, love".

You pant, biting hard in your lip as you find it extremely difficult not to move when your pussy clench at the sound of his words.

"Tommy, can't take it-" you breath out.

He squeezes your ass firmly, assaulting your neck with sloppy kisses. “Just a little more, pretty girl. Know you can”.

You moan when his lips connect with the sensitive skin bellow your ear.

“Shit”, you throw your head back. “Please, Tom”.

You can feel his smug smirk against your skin and want to slap him for that, but all is forgotten when he say, “It’s okay, darling, you can move now”.

You take it as your sign to move your hips up slowly, the friction getting more intense from the previous position. Your walls are sensitive, you can feel the wetness making it easier for you to move. “Fuck” you curse, gripping on his shoulders for dear life.

Tom tugged at your waist, helping you to stead a pace, when you sink down on him again. You started slow, just how you two felt like. His hands kept running on your skin, his mouth was glue to your ears, whispering motivating words to you.

“You’re so beautiful, riding me like this”

“Taking me so well”

“Gonna make me cum so hard”

His words were your fuel, and his touching ignited a fire inside of you. Soon, you were bouncing on top of him, water splashing everywhere, but you couldn’t care less about the mess on the floor. All you could focus about was the pleasure on Tom’s face, the way he gripped tight on your waist every time you swirled your hips and the need you had to chase your release.

“Fuck, Tom, I’m so close”, you moaned, hiding your face in the crock of your neck. You were growing tired, but still managed to keep moving. Noticing that you slowed down, Tom holds your hip and starts to buck his to meet with yours, his tip brushing on a special spot inside of you.

Your breathes were heavy, the sounds of the water among with skin slapping were all too much for you to take. Your rigid nipples were brushing against his toned chest, making you feel him everywhere. You moaned his name, clenching as your legs trembled. You knew you couldn’t last much longer.

“That’s it, baby” Tom panted, mouth on your ear as he bites your lobe. “C’mon, cum on my cock”.

And as easy as his command, you fell apart. The shocks ran through your body as Tom still pounded in you, chasing his release, following right after yours. Your walls clenched around him, riding both of you out of the recent orgasm.

A panting mess, the two of you stayed still, hugged tight on each other’s arms, catching your breath. You feel his length softening inside of you, and when you climb out of him, you feel his cum dripping out of your pussy too.

Tom had that light pink on his cheek, from the effort, and a beautiful brightness on his eyes. You smiled at him, who did the same and stretched his arms to reach you, holding your body just like when you entered the bathtub.

As he kissed the top of your head, you could hear his breathing still heavy and relaxed into his arms. After a few minutes of silence, just enjoying each other’s warmth, Tom speaks.

“Thank you, darling”, his words were soft, just like the brushing of the tip of his fingers on your face. “I mean, not for this”, he chuckled, and then sighed. “But for really taking care of me. You’re always so understanding”.

You turn your head and give him a sweet smile, full of the love you shared with the man of your life. “That’s because I love you, Tommy. And you don’t have to thank me for that”.

“I love you too, sweetheart. A lot”. He pressed a kiss to your lips.

Turning your soft smile into a smirk, you add, “Are you feeling more relaxed now, though?”

He laughs and kiss your cheek. “Absolutely”, licking his lips, he watches you with bight eyes. “But I’d love to repeat the relaxation session”.

…………………

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hiimsociallyawkward · 3 years

Text

Dear Lara Jean,

HI. so i watched TATBILB: A&F a few weeks ago, and I have some words. Before I begin, i'd like to preface that i'm literally 17 and have no film experience, and that I've read this book once maybe 4 years ago but here it is.

ps. if you haven't gotten it already: there will be spoilers. Heavy spoilers.

first of all, i'm sorry but i really didn't like the little edit things. Maybe I've reached that point in my life where I don't f with that anymore. Like when theres a drawn house and it slowly fades so it's real life?? no thanks

the music choice... I honestly didn't have that big of a problem with it, but my korean friend kept going "wtf is this music choice" so i'm quoting her on that.

the filming and editing. well maybe it's just me but I didn't really like it. yk when you're watching a youtuber and they do those zoom in things and it's sort of fast and funny? I think there were a few times the movie did that and i didn't like it.

literally, lara jean looking directly into the camera?? it feels like it's breaking the 4th wall and maybe they're doing it to be edgy but no thanks i didn't like that either.

WHY???? Her breaking the 4th wall added NOTHING to the movie. It just took me out of the experience. I especially didn’t like it when they did it in PS I still love you when they temporarily broke up.

THEY SET THE MOVIE IN OREGON. WHAT WAS THE REASON. THE BOOK WAS SET IN VA, AND I LIVE IN VA SO I FELT A CONNECTION TO THE BOOK. AND THEN THEY GO AND SET IT IN OREGON. WHAT. WAS. THE. REASON

OREGON DIDN’T HAVE TO DO ANYTHING WITH THE COLLEGES. THEY’RE STILL PRETTY FAR AWAY FROM STANFORD. IN THE BOOK, UVA WAS CLOSE BY SO LJ WOULDN’T HAVE TO BE TOO FAR AWAY FROM HOME. NO OFFENSE TO THE STATE BUT WHY OREGON. THEY COULD OF PUT THEM IN CALI AT LEAST

ONE OF THE REASONS WHY LJ WANTED TO GO TO UVA IS BECAUSE HER FAMILY WOULD BE CLOSE BY. BY PUTTING THEM IN OREGON, YOU TAKE AWAY THAT REASON. i just want to 👊 whoever’s idea this was

FURTHERMORE: THEY CHANGED UVA AND UNC TO STANFORD AND NYU. I AM INFURIATED. THE WHOLE POINT WAS THAT THEY WANTED TO GO TO UVA BECAUSE IT WAS LIKE 10 MINS FROM WHERE THEY LIVED AND IT'S A STATE SCHOOL. LARA JEAN FELT LIKE THE WAS GAURANTEED TO GO TO UVA AND WHEN SHE DOESNT, IT ACTUALLY HURTS THE READERS.

in the book, LJ was waitlisted from UNC, rejected from UVA, and accepted to W&M. I’m sure you can find like 40 people at our school who can relate to this situation. I doubt 40 people in our school can relate to being rejected from Stanford BUT accepted to NYU. dear writers, please give teens across the nation (your target audience) realistic expectations for college admissions.

YOU'RE GONNA TELL ME THAT PETER AND LARA JEAN WERE ACTUALLY QUALFIED ENOUGH FOR STANFORD. LEMME JUST SAY, I'VE APPLIED FOR COLLEGES THIS YEAR AND I FEEL LIKE I HAVE A PRETTY GOOD GRASP ON WHAT IT TAKES TO GET INTO CERTAIN COLLEGES. YOU'RE TELLING ME THE TWO OF THEM. REALLY. GOT. INTO. THOSE. SCHOOLS. pls.

DON’T GET ME STARTED ON THE KISSING BOOTH. ELLE AND NOAH ARE POSSIBLY THE DUMBEST CHARACTERS I HAVE EVER WATCHED. I DON’T SEE THEM DO A PAGE OF HOMEWORK AND I DON’T EVEN THINK THEY ATTEND CLASS. LIKE MAKING A KISSING BOOTH FOR ONE FUNDRAISER FOR A CLUB THAT CONSISTS OF 2 PEOPLE DOES NOT COUNT AS ENOUGH TO GET INTO HARVARD. but that’s a different movie...

this is literally the idea that television and movies have in making it super easy to get into ivy leauges. as if some in state college isn't up to society's standards of where or where not it's ok to go to college. it's when gabriella montez goes to stanford, troy goes to berkely, ryan evan goes to julliard, teddy duncan goes to yale, cody martin is accepted to princeton, HANNAH MONTANA does to stanford.

and lara jean wants to study english lit. she never says “i want to go to stanford because of their great english lit program”. it’s only “i want to go to stanford because my boyfriend is going and i have no other life outside of him

fine. make your characters seem awesome by making them go to awesome colleges. but still. this is upseting.

you know how awesome it is to hear UVA, the college I've always wanted to go to, in a published book? and for them to just rip it away- espeically when UVA is so attainable?? Yea yea movie directors, i get it, UVA isn't good enough for you. whatever.

They had AT LEAST 5 MONTAGES. 5. FIVE. WHO NEEDS THAT MANY MONTAGES. To quote my friend "the movie is all montage and 30 mins of plot" AND I CAN'T FIND IT IN MYSELF TO DISAGREE WITH HER.

AND THE DANCES. I REALLY DIDN’T NEED TO SEE NOAH CENTINEO DO WHATEVER HE CALLS “DANCING” IN 2 MONTAGES. I know everyone fell in love with noah in the first movie, but i’m pretty sure everyone fell out of love with him in this one.

again, i know nothing about movies, but 5 montages?? it seems like you're just filling space and trying to make everything seem ✨awesome✨ and ✨amazing✨. SURE. everything might be awesome and amazing, but this movie was 1 HR AND 55 MINS. and you decided to add 1 HR of montages? WHy. AND. one of them was in slowmo. i can't

THEY HAD VOICE OVERS THROUGHOUT THE WHOLE MOVIE. sure. 1 at the begin and 1 at the end, I think that's cute. BUT THE WHOLE MOVIE?? WHY. like bruh- have a focus.

literally did anyone read the freaking book? Remember how- in the book right? Margot was actually really not ok with Trina bc she's sort of replacing their mom? and Margot is rlly not ok with it but gets over it?? see how that was summarized in like 5 seconds in the movie? Oh i'm sorry you used all your time for the movie making STUPID MONTAGES but can we get some actually emotionally beats next time?? thanks.

ok this is a big problem i have with the movie. in the 3rd book, peter tries to have a relationship with his dad who ran away from him years ago. He struggles with that relationship the whole book. This is good stuff. people can relate to this. the scene in the diner where peter “confronts” his dad was CRINGEY. It could be noah’s acting but i couldn’t take him seriously. AND HE FORGIVES HIS DAD AFTER 30 SECONDS. the movie tries to include these smaller storylines but can’t because of the time limit. i’m no screenwriter, but i’m sure there could have been a way to subtly move that plot line during the entire movie rather than that one conversation in the diner

and in the book, peter has to train for lacrosse so he has to eat healthy which stresses him out. i specifically remember him getting mad at someone (maybe it was john ambrose, i don’t remember fully) for EATING HIS CARROTS. this just shows that peter has a life too. he has to worry about lacrosse along with losing lj. but no, the movie makes him look like the perfect boyfriend who has no other worries in life except for the girl in front of him

remember how- in the book (right?? bc they had a book to go off of???) Stormy was a part of the 3rd book? like a BIG part?? They LITEALLY just used her as John Ambrose's grandmother (WHICH IM PRETTY SURE THEY DIDN'T EVEN DO IN THE MOVIES). literally, stormy and john ambrose were throw away characters in the second movie and i am infurriated. BUT ALSO I LOVE JOHN AMBROSE HOW COULD THEY DO THIS TO HIM??

and remember, how in the book, how the dog's name is "Jamie Fox-Pickle" and they changed it to HENRY??? where is the flavor. what was the reason. SERIOUSLY.

BUT ALSO. CORRECT ME IF I'M WRONG BUT THERE WAS A POINT IN THE PLOT WHERE PETER'S MOM TOLD LARA JEAN TO BREAK UP WITH PETER. DOES NO ONE ELSE REMEBER THAT?? AND THEY CUT IT ALL OUT OF THE SCRIPT?? LIKE WHY. WHAT WAS THE REASON.

ok those are my biggest book grievances I think. but lemme just say, they NEVER went to NEW YORK. They literally wrote that in for the purposes of NYU. in the book, Chris and Lara Jean DRIVE to UNC because that's ATTAINABLE. BC THEY'RE STATE UNIVERSITIES. ANYWAYS

LJ’s and Chris’s spontaneous trip to unc showed their friendship in a good way. I never really liked chris as a friend to lj but during the trip, they are besties and it shows. the movie tries to do that in ny but peter is also in ny for some reason. she should have fell in love with ny WITHOUT peter at her side nagging her to sneak out and go on a date. she should have spent more time with chris rather than thinking about peter while she was watching the band.

the scene where Lara Jean is in New York and at the party and she sees the band? To all the boys I've loved before: Always and forever?? more like To all the boys I've loved before: gay awakening time.

when they moved the pink couch to the subway? WHy? They wanted snazzy pics.

when Lara Jean and Peter were making up and it was a really cute sequence AND THEN THEY MADE HER LOSE HER V CARD. FINE. I GET HOW THAT'S REALISTIC BUT IT WAS A CUTE SCENE. MY FRIEND ALMOST STARTED CRYING AND THEN LJ LOST HER V CARD AND WE COULDN'T STOP SCREAMING.

this is different from what was in the book (for the 100th time). In the book, they don’t do it and it shows that you can be in a high school relationship without being physical. I strongly appreciate that message. This darn movie had to have her lose her v card. WHY. IT ADDED NOTHING TO THEIR RELATIONSHIP. THE YEARBOOK SIGNING WAS SYMBOLIC ENOUGH

the montage where it's a montage of all of lara jean's and peter's cute moments?? ok fine. that was cute. but they literally just took scenes from past movies. imagine the impact if we like hidden moments from their relationships. maybe they're laughing in the car together. maybe they're watching they sunset. maybe peter is looking at her lovingly while she sleeps. WHAT IF. it WASN'T a montage of all the "bigger" moments of their relationship, and we got to see them just exist.

UGH. THE VOICE OVER AT THE END OF THE MOVIE IS SO CRINGEY I CAN'T

"WE AREN'T LIKE OTHER COUPLES. NOT US, LARA JEAN AND PETER KAVINSKY. BECAUSE WE HAVE SOMETHING BETWEEN US. WRITING LOVE LETTERS" please. b freaking s

Some redeemable qualities

while i didn't like most of the songs, "like me better" by lauv will always be loved. especially since it's a call back from the first movie?? I can ftw

WHY WASN’T “LIKE ME BETTER” THEIR SONG???? I really thought it was a good song to be their song and they referenced it in the beginning. No offense to the “beginning middle and end” people, but i felt no attachment to that song.

they customized her phone. it looked like it was a 7 (idk rlly, i don't know crap abt iphones) but they customized it. Granted, I KNOW lara jean would be the one with the aesthetic background with color coded folder, but still- they did give her relevant apps. some to note include; tiktok, spotify, instagram, netflix, notes, messages, facetime, maps, whatsapp and the STANFORD APP?? whatever- i'm chill.

they did make lara jean make choices so that was good.

the prom ask?? That was cute. with the pancakes??

at the end when Peter played the song even though earlier he didn't like it?? I liked that. i liked that a lot. ok fine i more than liked that a lot. There are multiple texts where my friends are screaming at each other. In fact, 26 separate messages.

chris in general. granted, she was more present in the books, but i'll take what i can get.

some notable quotes by her, the queen

"I'm dead inside"

not wanting to do a gigantic walk down from the stairs and asking the boys not to turn around

peter said he liked lara jean's forehead kisses and that reminded me of emma chamberlain so that's a positive only bc of emma

I remembered that they were the class of 2021, and I'M class of 2021 and it just hit for a second.

my friend cried over their graduation but i felt nothing bc we're literally living in a pandemic and chances of me getting a real graduation?? we'll see

again, these are all just my opinion. my friend doesn't like the movie bc she says she's sad and bitter and seeing these cute couples makes her feel lonely but i'm just diappointed. the books were GOOD. they were gold.

there was so much they could’ve done with the movies, and i just feel like they didn’t deliver on anything. Jenny Han, i’m sorry. The movie overall, ik someone who cried about it and someone else who gave it 7/10. props for them but jeez i just wish for more.

ok but that’s the show folk. i mean, obviously everything i said was opinion and literally don’t listen to anything i’ve said. BUT. feel free to add what you hated or loved abt the movie too. thanks. i love you guys. “always and forever” :,)

p.s- omg not them ripping off taylor swift. jk jk. ok bye

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ijenoyou · 3 years

Text

Jealousy.

jeno x oc!mia. nct24th member. red velvet6th member.

summary; jeno doesn’t feel confident in himself and jealousy takes over his words.

prompt; 11. “Why are you so jealous?” 17. “I’m just scared that you’ll leave me one day.”

warnings; angst and a tiny bit of fluff, mentions of svt’s dino :)

note; sooo this is the very first request i have hehe hope you guys like it! and remember english isn’t my first language so if there’s any errors pls ignore that lol also if you want to request more for Mia and Jeno here’s the prompt list or if you just want to request anything with another member x y/n that’s fine! feel free to do so ღ˘⌣˘ღ

MASTERLIST.

Mia had been filming her very first drama alongside Seventeen’s Dino for almost a month now. Both of them being the leads so it was no surprise they spent so much time together but Jeno couldn’t help but to feel a bit jealous when seeing the episode that just recently aired in which your character and Dino’s character kissed.

It’s not like Jeno is insecure about the way he kisses since both Mia and him had some time to experience with them and he knows she likes them so there was no point in feeling bad about it. Until he heard a phone call Mia had with Yeri talking about the kiss she had with Dino by accident.

“So...” Yeri’s voice came from Mia’s phone and she frowned.

“So what?” Mia said hesitantly not feeling good about the way her member spoke.

“How was the kiss?” Yeri said with mock in her voice.

“Ya! Why do you want to know?” Mia answered with shock in her eyes even when Yeri couldn’t see her.

“Because— “ Yeri stoped talking and laughed. “It seem like you enjoyed it.”

Jeno wasn’t meant to hear the conversation but when he was about to leave and wait for you at the living room he heard Yeri mention THE kiss.

“I mean— He’s a good kisser but it’s not like I’ve kissed a lot of people.” Mia softly spoke and laughed.

“Better than Jeno?” Mia gasped when hearing her friends words.

“Of course not!” She said and sighed.

Jeno felt a tiny bit of relief when hearing Mia’s words and tried to calm his fast beating heart. He really wanted to leave and respect her privacy but Jeno knew that Yeri wanted to know more about the scene. Even before filming the episode, you’ve told all the NCT members except for Jeno that you were very nervous to film something like that.

When he found out he told Mia that it was okay because it’s her job but he still couldn’t help but to feel a bit weird when seeing her kiss another person with such passion. He even still remembers what Haechan said to him just to annoy him over text.

Hyuck🏃🏻: Dude! They even used tongue.

His attention went back to Mia and Yeri’s conversation.

“Would you date him? I know you’re with Jeno but—“ Mia interrupted her friend mid sentence.

“I’m not with him.”

“What?!” Yeri screamed. “I thought you guys were dating or something.”

Mia sighed. “Um— We don’t really have a label on it, I really like him, so much but... I don’t know.”

Oh no. Jeno thought.

Jeno really hoped Mia knows how much he likes her but hearing her say those words with a pained look on her face made him question the type of relationship they had. Maybe she was growing tired of the constant sneaking around they had to do in order to be together without the staff knowing since all of the member knew about them since the beginning.

He really wanted to put a label on it but he started to question that decision when he heard about the kiss Mia had to share with Dino making him feel less confident.

“Jeno!” He didn’t even realized that Mia had finished her call with Yeri and had caught him eavesdropping on her. “What are you doing here?”

He just kept on looking at her big brown eyes and sighed.

“I just wanted to see you.” Jeno answered making her smile. “But if you’re busy I could leave.”

“I’m never busy for you Jen.” Mia whispered and took a step towards him putting her arms around his tiny waist then looking up.

He wanted to put his arms around her and sway the way the did everytime they would hug but he kept on overthinking. What if Mia doesn’t want to be with him anymore because he’s afraid of not being good enough for her?

“I don’t know, maybe you have something to film or do with Dino.” He spoke before his mind could register the words that came out from his mouth without thinking about it.

Mia scoffed and took her arms off his body making Jeno think of the way he lost the warm feeling in his body.

“What?— Why would I spent time with him? He’s just a co-worker.” Mia tried to say without sounding hurt that Jeno was rejecting her.

“I mean, you could go and practice more kisses, it looks like the tongue wasn’t enough.” He sounded harsh.

Mia rolled her eyes and turned around to go back inside her room.

“What’s your deal Jeno? You’re acting weird.” She said and tried not to sound too annoyed. “And for the record, the director told us to do it like that! Why are you so jealous?”

Mia couldn’t believe what was happening. She stared at Jeno’s face trying to see if he was joking with the way he was acting but instead, she found anger and sadness in them. She bit her lip trying to think of a way to fix the situation.

“Jen.” She spoke softly. “Talk to me baby.”

Mia placed her warm hand that had a ring on —which Jeno gifted her on her birthday back in 2017, before they found out they had feelings for each other— on his cheek and he closed his eyes for a few seconds.

“I’m just— “ He opened his eyes letting Mia see them with a bit of tears forming at the bottom of his lashes. “I’m just scared that you’ll leave me one day.” He answered in a whisper making Mia’s heart clench with pain at the sound of his broken voice.

He placed his hands on her waist and brought her closer to his body so he could put his forehead against hers and sighed.

“I know we don’t have a label yet but I’m really trying okay?”

“What do you mean Jen?” Mia asked with a worried look on her features.

“I know I’m not that special, I’m full of insecurities and overall I just feel like you could have someone so much better.”

Mia have him a kiss on the lips, staying there for more than a few seconds. She then started to place kisses all over his face going from his cheeks to his nose then to the mole he had under his eye making Jeno smile.

“You don’t have any idea of how much I love you.” Mia told him and started to play with the hair at the back of Jeno’s neck. “I would give anything for you Jen, I mean it— But I just keep on wishing that one day you’ll ask me to be your girlfriend but it never happens.” Mia had a small smile on her lips trying to lift the mood.

“I want you to be my girlfriend but I won’t ask you right now— I’ll plan a date, maybe a panic at the Han River.”

Mia nodded and grew smile became bigger.

“But why not now?” She said while pouting.

“Because I want to ask you in a special way, because you deserve it, I promise.”

She smiled and gave him a kiss but this time it lasted longer.

“Why don’t we practice more kisses for when you ask me out uh?” Mia said with a smirk and Jeno laughed.

“God I love you.”

#nct angst #nct fluff #nct scenarios #nct x reader #jeno fluff #jeno scenarios #jeno x reader #nct #nct jeno #jeno angst

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leavetwn · 3 years

Text

* KAYLEE BRYANT, CISWOMAN + SHE/HER | you know SUZIE TANAKA, right? they’re TWENTY-ONE, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, EIGHTEEN YEARS? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to VALENTINE BY HOPE TALA like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole ROLLERSKATES SCUFFED FROM YEARS OF USE, STARTING A JOURNAL ENTRY TWO YEARS SINCE THE LAST ONE, A SIGH OF RELIEF ONCE YOU'RE FINALLY ALONE thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is NOVEMBER 28TH, so they’re a SAGGITARIUS, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( claire, 22, est, she/her )

it’s me again ! bringing a character who i’ve played for a while now, just switched up & such for every rp, and now , i’m bringin her here. :^) i hope you enjoy her as much as i do! tw: mentions of mental illness (anxiety)

𝐈. ━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 .

full name: suzie tanaka. nickname(s): su, anything your muse wants to call her tbh. age: twenty-one. date of birth: november 28th. zodiac sign: saggitarius. gender/pronouns: ciswoman, she/her. sexual orientation: bisexual. romantic orientation: biromantic. hometown: san francisco, californio. current residence: irving, north carolina. occupation: part time waitress at cutie pie’s thanks to her skills on skates. full time student at the local college in her junior year as a creative writing major. she minors in film pro eye color: brown. hair color/style: dark brown, upper-mid back length & she usually just wears it in a simple ponytail. it’s more manageable when she’s out. however, when she’s at home, she’ll leave it down. height : 5′3″. clothing style: you can’t really put suzie’s style into one category. it’s inspired by several different eras & many times she pieces it together. some might call it a bit tacky at times, but she thinks it looks cute. to her, that’s all that matters. tattoos: none. probably could never attempt to get one cause she’s seriously afraid of needles lol. piercings: her ears and that’s when she was fairly young. reference the tattoos portion for reasoning.

𝐈. ━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 .

when you were around six years old , you first realized that you were lonely. it wasn’t like you weren’t around other people. it was just that those people were mostly your mom and dad. occasionally your cousins would come over sometimes, but they were all older than you by at least four years. your parents were kind of eccentric, and for that, they experienced how harsh other kids could be very early on. they decided they didn’t want you to experience the same things, so since both were felt they were prepared enough to do so, they homeschooled you to keep you sheltered from those types of things.

you’re sure they had good intentions. that’s not something you questioned, but you wished they’d at least find another kid you could be friends with or have another kid. you found yourself bored by yourself, so you immersed yourself in things like books or whatever movies they had around the house. this is where your love of fairytales began, and you’d fantasize about living in one while you read or watched the stories unfold.

you lived in your head, and you still pretty much do. you’re an idealist, even though you haven’t seen much of the world. perhaps it’s the fact that you haven’t ventured very far from your home that makes you so, and while life could still be boring, you always had another book or movie to keep you company. you grew content being on your own, and the more that you were, the more you began to enjoy your own company.

that didn’t change the fact that you longed for friends. in all the stories you read or watched, the protagonist had one other person along with them for much of their journey. sure, you had people that you were friendly with, but it was never to the extent that you wanted. it was never a best friend or a close group — just someone you saw on few occasions. it also didn’t help how you felt when you were around others. the way you monitored every step you took, the way you crossed your legs, or going over the way you would speak to someone in your head over and over. you figured for the longest time it was because you were shy, but a diagnosis of anxiety gave you a lot more clarity and almost a sense of relief. those things started to make more sense.

being alone helped a lot when it came to academics. you spent a lot of your time studying or looking up random ass facts on the internet, and because of this, you’d call yourself fairly smart. you know your shit. it also helped a lot when getting into colleges. you didn’t aim too high though, not yet comfortable being all the way on your own. so, you chose the nearby university to attend.

you move out. you’re excited, and your parents are nervous but prepared. they’re not oblivious to the fact that this day would come. you’re ready to go out and face the world, but most of all, you’re ready to make friends. you’re ready to go out and experience the world, every small step at a time. you’re convinced at college you’ll become a brand new person, find yourself, and make plenty of friends.

it doesn’t go like that at first. of course it doesn’t. it’s a new environment, and it takes getting used to. but soon, people loosen up and warm up to you. you’re quick to make a couple of friends. it isn’t at all like the stories you’d read or watched when you were younger. it is happy and fun and joyous, but you realize that friendships take work. it’s a bit exhausting, as someone who had become such an introvert, but you manage and form close bonds.

as of now, you are working on your degree and managing life one step at a time. you’re doing pretty well, and things are looking up. you keep your head in the clouds still to this day, imagining what the future will be like. you’re still idealistic and optimistic, not that that’s a bad thing.

𝐈. ━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 .

i was being exaggerative with the ‘being at home’ stuff rip. i mean, she did spend a lot of time at home, but she wasn’t always there. her dad would take her out to rockin’ and rollin’, and i mean, she fuckin rocks when it comes to skating. it was kind of freeing to her as a child. she def got a pair of rollerblades as a christmas present, and she probably was the kid skating down her neighborhood road and shit from sunrise until her mom told her to take her ass inside.

maybe seems like she’s ditzy and she’s probably somewhat naive, but she’s definitely not stupid. she’s also a fast learner. she is, however, too nice for her own good. she’ll learn eventually, but she’s hopeful and an optimist at heart 💔

loves her dad but tells her mom everything. she doesn’t recognize it, but her mom was probably her first best friend lmaoo. they have a really good relationship. she has a good relationship with her dad too. he’s a bit more closed off than her mom, and she recognizes that but understands.

has an irrational fear that everyone’s like,,, staring at her & thinking she’s weird. really wants everyone to like her but she’s not sure how to make that happen (news flash, it won’t)

her fam is actually from san francisco but when she was 3, her dad got a better offer in irving so that’s how they ended up here. she knows this & she wonders what life woulda been like if she stayed back in san fran. probably wouldn’t have changed but she literally lives in her head and imagines shit like that’s her job at this point so yehhh

dreams of being a screenwriter and maybe even a director one day. she saw how film and books influenced her life as a kid & she wants to have the same impact, yk? v cute to me i love that. maybe she’ll write a book one day too who knows

i’m feelin like she has a ton of online friends cause she was seeking connection /w people so it makes sense. shout out to all her online pals who kept her sane & shit, but it wasn’t enough for her cause she really wanted those kinds of things irl.

is a hopeless romantic rip to her. just wants someone to sweep her up off her feet and give her butterflies but this aint no damn fairytale so let’s make it chaotic

character parallels: lily (dash & lily, 2020) , amélie poulain (amélie, 2001) , belle in some ways lmao (beauty and the beast, 1991) more to be added.

𝐈. ━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 .

* friends, best friends, etc. — literally any friends at all. this is the connection she craves the most tbh. platonic over romantic periodt ! she just wants people to braid her hair and have deep, personal convos with about literally anything while legally blonde is on the television.

* a bad influence — i mean, she stayed inside mostly & is kind of an introvert. didn’t have tons of friends either, so she didn’t really have time to go to parties, etc. BE A BAD INFLUENCE SHE NEEDS TO LET LOOSE LMAOO. it’ll prolly take a lot to get her out but hey

* good influence — someone she’s a good influence on & who she helps in some way. i could see it happenin’. if you see it happening, i mean... hmu you know where i am mwah 💖

* crush — someone she’s head over heels with. i mean, it probably wouldn’t take a lot. in my head she be catching feelings way too fast. it’s just a thing, but yeah, it could go either way. maybe your character is into her too or she’ll end up getting her heart broken which is lmao bound to happen one day. could also be someone who’s crushing on her but she’s way to busy focusing all her romantic attention on someone else to notice? idk i’m just here for all the plots.

* annoyance — someone who finds her ass annoying/does not like her. she wants everyone to like her so it would be so confusing and upsetting and she would be like wtf did i do but i want it cause i love angst. sorry to all my muses out there luv yall but i’m just bein real

* again, anything at all — if you have an idea that you love, pls don’t hesitate to hmu and lemme know. i promise i will 99.9% of the time be down. the same goes for any wanted connection doodads that i reblog like if u see it and ur like omg i luv that... PLEASE hmu i luv u all already & just wanna have plots and write with you srsly

#irvingintro #well there u have it my last one done i am so THANKFUL AND HAPPY #takes a bow #the way it's almost 4 am see i did not lie i am up forever

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katsukikitten · 5 years

Text

Rouge

A/N MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING. if you are easily triggered to spiral please DO NOT READ ANY further. If you want/ need to know the actual trigger warnings pls dm me before reading.

If you could kill yourself without anyone finding your body you would.

And honestly you may have found a way.

To turn your body into nothing but particles on the wind.

Ashes to ashes.

Dust to dust.

Your heart swells at the thought, its simple, easy really, this new solution.

No one will have to deal with the trauma of finding you.

No one will say "I never knew" at your eulogy while fighting back tears when the signs, although extremely subtle, were there.

They will only say your "great" life was cut short too soon as they look longingly at the one and only photo of you smiling that was enlarged for all to see.

As if that's how you looked majority of your life.

Content.

Happy.

You joined the hero course for the sole purpose that it put your life at greater risk adding to it the perk of what would be viewed as an honorable death.

And maybe your departure would be less sad for some, if anyone would even be upset in the first place.

The only problem was making your "accidental" death look good. It did not help that you were at a disadvantage with your quirk.

You were the unlucky soul with the rare quirk of adaptability or as others deemed it, instant evolution.

Literally giving meaning to what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.

You should know, you've tried, doing nothing but worsening the situation for yourself.

And tried countless times at that.

Grey knives drawing grey blood while grey skin snaps back together forever closing the open wound.

Grey bones jutting at odd angles punctured through grey skin snap back into place as everything rights itself.

So hero work was your only option. Someone somewhere would HAVE to have a quirk you could not adapt to.

So every mission you decided to put yourself in dangerous situations and not for the sake of others.

At one point you thought that, maybe over time, saving others could help deviate you from your search for the end by another's hand.

But even after almost a decade of hero work you have yet to change your mind. Stead fast on the idea of resting six feet deep at the ripe age of 25.

What better irony that it cannot fix the emptiness that gnawed at your innards.

You're not sure why you feel this way. It's not as if anything traumatic happened to you. You had a loving family, a quirk, everything to be thankful for.

One day you woke up feeling an ache in your chest that over the years turned into a weighted emptiness.

Almost like a phantom feeling of knowing something should be there and suddenly you realize it is not.

As if living your life like you were the foot that fell asleep.

With the slow absence in your chest the universe began to present itself differently. Not as if turning itself at an odd angle, no it turned itself into a painting that had faded from overexposure in the harsh sun. Colors bleeding into depressing tones of grey washing with it your ability to feel.

None of this stopped you from making friends or taking some lovers, you were well liked, popular even. Plus the internet said these things would help ease the dull ache that weighed heavy in your ribcage.

But the internet was wrong. If anything it amplified your desire for that sweet embrace of Death. Every single relationship was tainted with a greasy film, making them hazy in your eyes. A camera lens fogged over from heated breath capturing still moments of superficial dull feelings.

Everything forever diluted in those heavy tones of grey.

Until one day luck was on your side when you spotted potential in someone.

Someone who became blindingly vibrant even in their hues of grey as they reached their dried flesh outward, hair white as snow.

You often dream of the following moments.

It all happened in slow motion, his fingers slowly curling around the arm of a hero that called you for backup. Suddenly you felt something in your chest, it beat with a ferocity you hadn't felt in *years.*

Others would read into your frozen form as fear but honestly it was shock, *pleasure*, as your plan began to form into something tangible. Eyes fixated on the forgotten hero that slowly turned to dust. Grey ash carried on a heavy summer wind.

Abrubtly your life had been given purpose.

"OI Y/LN!" You look to see a grey haired man approaching at blinding speed, his fingers spread wide, palm facing outward telling you with his faint crimson eyes to move.

But you cannot if you want this villain to aid you later. You swallow thickly as you think of a good plan to fuck this up. You pretend to be too stunned and Katsuki has to waste his blast by hitting the ground by your feet to jump over you.

You do not know that he's fought this villain before, having transferred well after USJ and the kidnapping. You watch as greedy flaked hands reach out towards him, hungry to devour as dry lips pull too wide over white teeth. All the while Bakugou steadily closes the distance.

Something grips your stomach as your mind replays what happened just moments ago.

You jump with enough force that the pavement buckles beneath your powerful legs. You catch up to Bakugou with ease pulling him back by his skin tight shirt. You yank harder than you intended and the two of you return to the Earth with sickening cracks. Toppling over one another until you land on top of Bakugou. Instantly a warp gate opens up and the white haired man steps through it. Disappearing for now.

Not exactly how you planned it but effective.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" Katsuki explodes beneath you and you take the massive explosion point blank. Blinding pops of white and grey while you land on your feet like a cat. Not a single burn in sight.

At this point you've pretty much become immune to his attacks from being forced to train with him at UA and the other countless "accidental" explosions that have kissed you with white hot heat during missions. Rage and resentment fuel his actions.

Katsuki jumps to his feet giving you a deadly glare when he cannot spy what you've deemed your new found hope he lunges for you. Forcing you back with a barrage of explosions until your shoulders slam into brick. Indenting your thick shape into the dudty wall, causing you to question the integrity of the structure.

Would the weight of a crushed building be enough?

No you already tried that.

When the smoke clears you're met with burning red ember eyes. He leans close, pressing his forehead against yours as he glares at you with such malice. If only he could act on that malice, especially with how it worsens everytime the two of you cross paths.

You're an ugly reminder that someone can withstand him and his deadly assaults.

"Stay the fuck outta my way." He growls and you say nothing, you just hold his heated faint scarlet gaze.

Tonight you cannot dream your wonderous dream instead numb tears fall down your cheeks like a movie star during a dramatic scene. Lying in the dark, mind plagued with two things.

One being hot ember and the other being a greyed hand.

It keeps you up and this endless sleep lasts for longer than you'd like.

A week and a half longer than you'd like, though you have survived longer without.

Learning the hard way that you can go *months* without eating, drinking, or sleeping.

As if you're some living statue in the renaissance representing the entire purpose of mortality as you lie in the dark. Moon light cascading over your shimmering cheeks.

Black night lightens to a grey sunrise just to pull the sun back into a deep pool of darkness once more.

All the while you sit at the agency in front if your messy desk. Working but not, it's more as if you're AFK in real life. You look at yourself almost in third person as you watch yourself stare at your screen and your mountain of paper work that you've been avoiding.

About six months worth and it's exactly why the Director has you in the office today. Its quite in the office, which is normal for seven PM.

Although thanks to winter it looks like midnight out. The darkness envelops you but it does not protect you from the weighted emptiness.

Its the loud footsteps that pull you into reality. Blinking furiously to soothe your burning eyes as you pick up your pen trying to bullshit your way in case it's the director.

But it isn't, instead its Bakugou who pauses at your open door with an ever present irritated snarl, still draped in grey. Cruel blood red eyes rove over your pitiful form.

"Oi, Director told me to check on you like I'm some sort of fucking baby sitter. So are you working or fighting a fucking possession?" He growls and you blink a few times, unsure how to answer.

Normally you were a master at the facade, of donning the mask appropriate at the time. As sadness was not always needed.

So for someone to notice your odd behavior was off putting. Worrisome. You would have to step it up a notch.

"I'm fine." You smile widely, sure to make it seem as if its reached your eyes. Like you've practiced countless times in the mirror. When he makes no move to respond you scribble on one of the reports, pretending to write. Doing anything to bullshit your out from under his scorching gaze. His maroon eyes narrow in suspicion.

"I'm leaving so get your shit done."

"Yea." Is all that you say, it must be good enough of a reply for him as he takes his leave.

Soon your body becomes stiff as you hardly move for the next hour and a half, slumped over inky paper. Truly staring through the reports on your desk. You blink slowly as you try to ease the pain in your eyes.

Maybe Bakugou was right. Maybe you were fighting off a possession but before you can give it a second thought your hero phone lights up with an alert.

Indicating you're the closest hero to whatever villainy is transpiring in the cold icy streets.

*"White haired suspect spotted by civilian wandering around the old warehouse district. Believed to be Tomura Shigaraki heavily associated with the league of Villans. Use extreme caution quirk decay."*

Decay.

The word sends a shiver of ecstacy down your spine.

Tonight was the night, tonight you would finally get your dance with Death.

You lunge, loading the rest of the report as you fly down the stairwell two steps at a time. Before breaking out into a full sprint.

How lucky could you be that your agency was only seven blocks away from the old warehouse district.

You silence your breath and your foot falls learned from years of practice as you near closer.

Opting out of standing in the dim light of the street lamps, that illuminate nothing more but spooked rats and rotting trash.

Oh this was just getting better and better.

The setting was perfect, late at night, pitch black alleyways that were narrow to boot.

Honestly you couldn't have asked for a better place for him to be spotted. It would be easy to fuck this up. You may not even have to force his hand considering he would have ALL of the advantage and all he would need to do was reach out of the darkness to touch you.

Wrap those five grayed fingers around you.

Your ears pick up on scratching. Not the type a rat makes where claws dig at brick or trash. No, that unique sound of nails scrapping into flesh.

You smile wildly, thankful you actually read the full report for once, the sound comes from two alley mouths away. It seems to be the only sound on the whole block.

You walk past the first one, practicing how you will look. Eyes shifting to the left alley then to the right, body language reading guarded.

Careful.

The things you were actually supposed to be doing but couldn't bring yourself to do. You could hear the soothing lullaby hummed through gnashing teeth and bones.

By the second alley you've perfected the look. If there are any still functioning cameras in this are their black glass eyes are sure to see it all. Your perfect final scene.

Because it has become too hard to continue to live the lie.

It becomes silent as you approach the mouth of the alley that the scratching came from. Too silent, confirming your initial thought, that he lies in the dark watching, waiting.

You peek to the left as you did the past two times before peeking to the right coming face to face with pitch black. The alley resembles a vacuum, greedily swallowing all light and sound in its wake. Fear prickles up your spine and your primal instincts tell you to run.

But they are dull, still draping the world in that damned veil of grey so they are easy to ignore.

You take the plunge as if jumping into cold water taking another step, turning away as if you did not see the gleam of his teeth.

Crusted lips again stretched too far over white.

He reaches out, fingers slowly curling onto your bicep as your boyd and your mind declare war with one another.

One demands that you fight, that you do anything it takes to get out of this situation while the screams of how tired it is.

How it can no longer go on.

Four fingers are wrapped tightly around you like a miniature snakes and your heart races with anticipation of the final finger.

You turn his way, eyes locking onto his. Savoring the motion of his middle finger getting ever closer to your sweet skin.

That is until the feeling of the grip is ripped away from you as a new vice grip pulls you into their direction. Strong arms wrapped around to you protectively, strong hand smoothing over the skin that was just touched.

"No." The small gasp escapes you as you turn to face whoever dared to deny you your one true wish only to be met with poison apple red.

"What the fuck were you doing?!" A nasty snarl and a shake before you're shoved to the side. Explosions propelling him closer to the target once more.

You fall to your knees in anguish, fat droplets dripping down flushed cheeks. You are barely able to register the scene in front of you as a trap is activated, pulling Katsuki's arms behind his back with a sickening crack. It echoes in the alley way but it does not reach you.

Cannot reach you as you mourn.

You had fucking tasted it, the sweet end just to be denied.

The ropes pull tighter, Katsuki yells out and suddenly sweat is falling from his grey face.

How long had he been in this position?

Ten?

Twenty minutes?

You weren't sure, time was painstakingly slow and blurring fast all at once.

Glowing red eyes cut to you in the night, demanding, pleading, for help.

You fail to see anything more that what you had once had. Reliving the moment where you felt most alive.

That special, promised hand reaches out for Katsuki, slowly curling itself around his throat.

Slowly enough that grey skin cracks to reveal angry vivid red.

Wait.

Red?

Where else had you seen red?

*Red* muscle tissue beneath sunkissed skin?

Suddenly a certain man is blindingly vibrant against the black back drop of the alley way. Ash blonde hair dampening and darkening with sweat as a rare emotion mixes with the rage in his eyes.

You lunge faster and harder than you ever had before. Quickly enough that there is a delay before the asphalt that was once beneath your feet ruptures, ripping open several feet deep.

Your hand is on a dry wrist that you twist away from Bakugou. You move without thinking as you take his hands into your own. Wrapping delicately strong fingers around two separate middle fingers. Bringing them back until they touch the top of his forearm.

He falls to the ground and for good measure you kick him square in the face. Shinning tooth arching with a red blood trail that slowly fades to grey.

You turn to Katsuki, the color draining from him like a dying star, cutting the ropes of the trap. You keep your hands pressed harshly against his arms as he tries to snap them back.

"Slow." You say sternly watching the ashen blonde of his hair dull into a light grey as he brings hyper extended arms back into their normal positions.

Nothing remains of his color as he shoves past you, forcing Tomura's arms behind him before securing his wrists with a zip tie. He heaves him onto his shoulder like a sac of potatoes and begins to walk away.

Almost leaving you to regret helping him.

After all he did take what you've always wanted, you stare after him as he walks away before he abruptly stops.

"Oi. Y/N." He calls out, "Let's fucking go."

He looks over his shoulder and you see it still there although it is just a flash before he begins walking again once your make way to follow.

Vivid scarlet red cuts through the dark of the night.

#bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n #bnha x you #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou #bnha kacchan #bnha katsuki #bnha bakugou #bnha au #bnha imagine #bnha angst #bakugou angst

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ofkanes · 4 years

Text

me pulling up wayyy later than expected : 👀👀, fhdjs hi !! i’m nik but u can call me nikolaj ( b99 stans only 😤) & i’m here to bring my mess of a baby kane !! ok so i’m literally too excited for this group pls don’t @ me . before i start i just wanna say that all ur intros ?? shakespeare is quaking !! send tweet .

[ jack gilinsky , he / him , twenty two , cis male ] do my eyes deceive me , or did i just see ( KANE MORGAN ) getting out of the car in hunnington ? i guess ( HE’S ) living around ( ROCK SPRINGS ) , which i could’ve guessed . hopefully they can keep their ( - SHORT TEMPERED & - COMPLACENT ) shit to theirselves , and focus on being ( + ADAPTABLE & + CHARMING ) to avoid any problems . and for the love of god , lets hope they don’t talk about the ( HIDDEN ) thing .

ʙᴀᴄᴋsᴛᴏʀʏ

ok lemme say that i envisioned kane as a movie bby , you’ll get what i mean in 2 secs .

his two parents are both movie directors , his mother is an actress turned movie director . the morgan surname is well - known across the silver screens everywhere , not one that people take it lightly . here’s some background about his parents .

tim morgan : father , but mostly known of his work as a movie director , i wanna say he has the career claim of frank darabont ( directed : the shawnshank redemption , the green mile , mary shelley’s frankestein , the walking dead ... etc ) . he earned his name despite being , at first , a nerdy film school student . very proud person , definitely snobbish .

ingrid jackson - morgan : mother , but also a very good actress , i was thinking she had the career claim of michelle pfeiffer ( scarface , grease 2 , batman returns , hairspray , murder on the orient express ... etc ) . she comes from a line of models & actresses , so it’s no surprise there .

now you have young kane morgan , now im ashamed to say he was named after citizen kane , his parent’s favourite movie ( rlly no taste ngl ) & you’ll never guess his middle name .... brando . that’s it , i’m cancelling him .

but basically he’s a little accident that happened before the marriage , oops ? so really , an unhappy surprise for ms & mr morgan . his mother wasn’t very happy w his arrival because all she wanted to do was to work on movies & NOT take care of a child .

don’t worry , cuz kane rlly felt that unhappiness ooze outta her . gr8 nannies though , he loves them .

his father was happy to have someone to teach all his knowledge to , nerd alert , but that was one of the few moments he appreciated kane . that’s it .

so one could imagine the disaster of a kid being brought up by movie stars ( read : nannies ) , not a stranger to cameras , red carpets & all that good stuff .

ofc he was a child actor , his parents tried to put him in almost every movie they could , spreading that good morgan family name n all . kane didn’t think much of it , until he was old enough to understand .

he was definitely a little bratty , demanding attention from everyone all the time . being as fickle as they come , but that’s only because his parents didn’t give a flying fuck .

as he grew up , still on the spotlight , he liked to be on & off the camera . some years , he yearned to be the center of attention & other’s he hated the job . very hard to keep up with .

when he turned sixteen , he had his first ( & probably not last ) proper hollywood breakdown , almost as bad as brittany circa 2007 . he got a good role & was introduced to the bad side of hollywood . parties , drugs , shady people & all that good stuff . he was influenceable & fell into all the traps . it was only 2 years later that his parents were able to snap him out of it . they ofc paid all the tabloids to keep the good name out of their articles , but if you do your research , you’ll find some pretty pics of lil morgan .

since then , he has cleaned up his act . ofc he took a couple of years off , went to college, tried to focus on himself & discover who he was ( he wasn’t only a morgan , he was kane !! who is kane ?? ) & he only started starring in roles recently , post college graduation .

he just got off his first acting job post - hiatus & it’s a blockbuster . i was thinking maybe inspired on those coming of age movies ( à la hot summer nights but w more traction ) & people are freaking out !! kane morgan on the big screen ?? WHAT ?? he came back to nc before he decides on what to do next .

ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ

ok so you can already guess that kane morgan is no humble kid . i like to think he has layers , but ppl can’t be bothered to look through all of them .

some would say that his major problems stem from the fact that his parents didn’t give him enough attention & the public gave him too much .

having your parents’ attention ? that’s so 2002 .

for the press i like to think he has this movie star facade down . you know the old charming james dean smile , handsome but kind . loves the underdog , very humble about his social standing . generous , outgoing & loved by everyone .

idk i never met james dean , all the information i have on him is taylor swift’s song : style .

now if we dig a little deeper , he’s still quite the charmer ( c’mon he’s an actor after all ) , but maybe not as humble nor kind . he can be quite rude & entitled , but has some good jokes . don’t get him completely wrong , he’s still a bit generous ( he gives 25% tips wow ) . likes a good party , but knows his limits . always down for a good time .

if we go even deeper , oof , he’s a bit broken . never learned to love properly , all he has it’s movies , which we can all agree are shit if you’re gonna base your attachment type on it . he lives on his own little world & likes to keeps his guards up . a sweetheart really , you can see past all the snobby film critic bullshit & he’s just a boy who wanna have fun & have a good life like all those people on the screen .

you would fucken think im a film major but NO , i’m not even that fancy w movies . and after all reading all those movies titles ur head must be spinning , MINE IS !! but ily & ur an absolute queen / king / monarch if you read thru all of this !! let me tag my plot page below hehe , it’s were we get angstyyy !

plot page babey

#cancelled:intro #* 𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 / ooc .#this is too much #feel free to drink tea & JUDGE me fhdjk

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choupichoups · 5 years

Photo

Press F (Instagram/College AU) Ch.14

Eliott may be all that; rich, handsome, instagram famous— but the basic plebe inside comes out to play when his crush follows him from out of nowhere.

Or: Press F but Eliott’s POV

Parting is such sweet sorrow has gained a whole new meaning as Eliott stands in front of Lucas, bouncing back and forth on his heels in a bid to stall some more before he truly has to go.

“You really don’t want me to stay with you until Yann comes back?” He finally pushes out the question, brows furrowing in concern despite the reassuring smile Lucas gives him.

“I’ll be fine, Eliott.” Lucas picks Champ up from the ground when she starts spinning around in place, looking about ready to lay down and have a nap right at their feet. “Go see your mom.”

"I mean... she’ll probably survive one day without eating my dad’s cooking.” he reasons, pouting when Lucas gives him an exasperated look.

“Bring your mom her rightful lunch, just like you told your dad you would. I don’t want there to be any reason for them to hate me.”

“That’s impossible, they already love you.”

Lucas pauses, bottom lip caught behind his teeth as he looks up at Eliott uncertainly. “Really?”

Eliott softens, sighing out a quiet, “Really.” His hands move on their own accord, brushing against the line of Lucas’ jaw. He can’t imagine how a single person in this universe could ever be capable of hating Lucas.

“Really, really?”

“Really, really.”

“Cool. You really, really have to go now, though.” Lucas laughs, nuzzling into Eliott’s hands like that would help his case.

“Okay, but if you need me for anything at all, you’ve gotta promise to tell me.” The grip he has on Lucas tightens just a little, firm enough to have his boyfriend tipping his head back to see the resolve in Eliott’s eyes. “I mean it. Anything.”

Lucas can honestly ask him to do his grocery shopping right here right now and Eliott would undoubtedly agree. Hell, if Lucas tells him that the windows rattling from the wind bothers him, he’d drop everything and run back to him. Eliott has no qualms about the lengths he’d go to protect Lucas, to keep him feeling safe.

Champ yips, gazing happily up at Eliott as a comfortable silence embraces them otherwise, the sight of Lucas’ precious smile warming the crystallizing fear creeping up on him. The mere prospect of leaving his boyfriend alone for hours until Yann gets back is frankly a no go in Eliott’s books but he understands that Lucas might need some space, and Eliott has his own responsibilities to uphold.

Fuck if it doesn’t scare him, though. The atrocious start to their weekend has really done a number on him.

“I promise,” Lucas whispers eventually, leaning up to kiss the beginnings of a frown off of Eliott’s lips.

Eliott watches him carefully, running a thumb over the shadowed smudge under Lucas’ eyes. He’d waited until Lucas fell asleep first before slipping into dream land himself, but Lucas had already been awake by the time Eliott next opens his eyes— and Eliott is an early riser. He forces himself not to dwell on it, he had been privy to an offhanded comment about Lucas’ complicated relationship with sleep before so maybe this morning is nothing out of the ordinary.

“Alright, I’ll see you later.” Stooping down for another kiss, Eliott lets this one linger a little longer, breathing in once they pull away and brushing a final kiss to Lucas’ forehead. He peels his hands off of him, squishing Champ’s tiny head in between his palms to make up for how his mind is screaming for him to hold on. “You’ll take care of him for me, right tough girl?” She licks his hands in enthusiastic answer.

Lucas snorts out a laugh. “You take care, don’t miss your stop or you’ll get back too late.”

“Yes, sir.” Eliott playfully salutes as he walks backwards, stopping just out of reach before he gestures towards Lucas’ still closed door. “Well? I’m not leaving until you’re inside.”

He’s expecting the eye roll that comes— it’s sweet and fond, familiar. The exact kind Eliott craves to soothe his fraying edges.

Lucas turns around once he’s inside, grinning at Eliott and blowing an exaggerated kiss in his direction. It’s so ridiculous that Eliott’s laugh is ripped right out of him, loud and startled, echoing in the empty hallways, nipping at the sound of Lucas’ door shutting with a heavy bang.

All alone, he finds himself despondent, kicking imaginary dirt off the floor as he trudges on with a pathetic pout. There’s no proper way to explain this feeling— they’ve literally almost managed to hole themselves up in Eliott’s apartment the entire weekend. It’s not like Eliott can help it, though, he did just get Lucas back and his needy little melodramatic heart misses his boyfriend for every minute they aren’t together.

He drags himself out of Lucas’ apartment building with visible difficulty, feet shuffling against the rough gravel below his feet all the way through his journey to the bus stop.

It’s going to take him quite a while to get to his mother’s office without a car. Usually, his father has no problem dropping by himself, but he’d answered a favour for an old coworker out in Lyon and will probably be stuck there until the next morning.

In a not so shocking turn of events, his mother forgets to take her ready packed lunch to work without his father being present to remind her of it. And obviously that’s an abomination, she can’t go without a homemade lunch Eliott, she’d get so hungry and her brain won’t be as sharp as usual, her work ethic would suffer because of it. Eliott had cut off his papa’s rambling with a groan and a reluctant agreement to bring the goddamn sandwich to its rightful owner just so the guy would stop worrying already. Hopeless romantic runs thick in the blood of the Demauries apparently.

adam.fk plans today??

idrisomd sleep

abebkhellal oof yeah

emir.yous buncha boring old men

omarions says you?? didn’t you spend fall break last year learning how to play chess lmao

emir. yous we don’t talk about that

idrisomd shut up emir not everyone is a free bird like you I was editing some stuff and I realized I need that dumb triangle still lol eliott can I borrow yours pls

emir.yous maybe if you don’t procrastinate you’d have more free time I thought you were keeping that triangle??

idrisomd maybe if you shut up you’d get more dates I had to sacrifice it for the greater good

Eliott laughs under his breath, contemplating whether he should add his two cents into the conversation. In the end, he keeps to himself for now, reading through the childish banter that inevitably starts up.

The triangle, huh. He’s glad the bus is mostly empty at present, else the giggling he can’t quite suppress would’ve probably worried some people. Fucking unbelievable, really. It’s ridiculous how it all started, now that he thinks about it. It feels like a lifetime has gone by since then.

Eliott still remembers it, vividly. That moment he set his eyes on Lucas. It’s the week before their new semester officially starts— a Thursday to be specific. He and his friends are scrambling around frantically attempting to maximize their remaining days of freedom to get ahead on his and Idris’ new film project.

“Props.”

“Props?”

“Yeah, we’re missing some props.”

Eliott struggles with the cardboard boxes he’s dragging behind him— they’re saving all the money they can by building the set for filming themselves. The rest of the guys get pulled into the fray, as always, so it’s a bit of a disaster when they’re all going around picking up stray cardboard and styrofoam just in case they need it for later.

“What’s the thing you were talking about earlier?” Abe snaps his fingers, trying to recall everything they need before leaving campus.

Idris jumps. “The triangle!”

“What do we need a triangle for?” Adam asks, fumbling with the styrofoam cups he’s balancing in one hand.

“For that one scene in the forest.”

“There’s a scene in the forest?” Omar pipes up from behind their circle, returning from the storage room where he’d gone to dig out some black garbage bags they can borrow.

“Well, it’s Emir’s backyard but whatever.” Eliott mutters, scratching things off of their checklist. “Can’t we just fake the triangle sounds?”

“Too much effort for a little scene. Don’t you have one at yours?”

“Yeah, but my place is out of the way, it’ll take too much time going there and then to Emir’s.” He shrugs, tapping the pen against his chin. “We can take the one from the theatre.”

Emir gives him a look. “We are not stealing the orchestra’s triangle.”

“Nobody will miss it,” Abe dismisses, already walking off to load their things in his car.

“What if someone tells the director it’s missing?”

“Emir, who would notice a missing triangle?” Idris raises his hands as he talks, incredulous at the question. “When you watch your classic live shows, do you hear anyone go oh, yes, the triangle was on point today? No you don’t, cause nobody gives a fuck about the goddamn triangle, man. Eliott, can you please grab us the triangle so we can get outta here?”

“If we get in trouble, I get plausible deniability,” Emir mumbles defiantly. Eliott snorts, patting Emir on the shoulder on his way out.

The theatre is only a short jog away from the parking lot so Eliott slips through the doors in no time, rooting around backstage for the instrument. He finds the little thing buried underneath a broken flute and a... tambourine?

Single piano notes echo along the walls without warning, and Eliott jumps from his crouch, heart beating fast from shock. He doesn’t run, though, because whoever is out there is obviously not going to spot him if they’re preoccupied with playing the piano.

He’s just about to leave again, grab his stolen goods and sneak his way back out, when the aimless piano notes begin to blend together with effortless flow, a sudden transition tickling his ears so pleasantly that Eliott can’t bring his feet to move along more than two steps at a time. Transfixed, he walks closer to the curtain, curious as to who would play such a beautiful melody so delicately.

Eliott has always wished life would be as easy as the films he's grown up watching— with twists and turns that cause crushing moments, yes, but with the comfort of a happy ending to cushion against the pain through it all. He’s always dreamt of something cliche to happen to him once in his life. Maybe he could win the lottery and live the rest of his life as a billionaire. Maybe he could meet someone so inspiring he’d gain the courage to pack up and explore the world with nothing but a boat and backpack. Maybe he could fall in love at first sight

The boy on the piano is turned sideways but Eliott can clearly see him from where he’s hidden behind the curtain. The smile on his face is plain adorable and the way he’s swinging his feet under the piano (he’s not even using the piano pedals and it still sounds so good) goes straight to Eliott’s heart.

His feet carry him forward, as if entranced, so helplessly drawn into the boy’s gravity—

“Stop,” the boy says, laughing. Eliott stops, startled. “You’re gonna ruin it, Yann,” his angel continues, head swinging to the side where another person who Eliott has apparently not seen is sitting.

The other guy, Yann, laughs too, picking up a violin. “No I swear, I can do it. I took classes once, remember?”

“Yeah, like ten years ago and you quit after two days.”

The two boys giggle at each other and the angel stops playing, attention fully on Yann. There’s a profound affection in the way they interact together, which makes glum little stones fall heavy against the bottom of Eliott’s stomach.

Jesus, he needs to calm down. He doesn’t even know the boy’s name yet.

His phone vibrates in his pocket and Eliott’s glad he’s forgotten to put the ringer back on. He doesn’t know how he’d explain it if the two boys catch him skulking around backstage.

Eliott runs out of the theatre soon after, remembering how pressed for time he and the guys already are. He tries to put the thought of the boy behind him, making vague hand gestures in lieu of explaining what delayed his return when the guys question him.

He fails miserably.

The bus lurches and Eliott almost drops his phone, fingers grappling for a firm hold on the screen as it slips and slides from the abrupt movement. He still has the group chat with the guys open so the scrabble has him accidentally scrolling up, up, up around a month back.

When he looks down at the screen, he's taken right back to that delightful moment Lucas had unknowingly caused back then.

The doors open and close, one person exiting but a whole crowd entering right after. Eliott presses himself more comfortably into his back seat corner and settles a hand over his mouth, covering the widening grin stretching his lips as he reads through his own moronic words.

Good god, looking back on it now is hilarious, but Eliott will never forget the all consuming panic he’d felt at the time.

Eliott exits out of the chat, frantically scrolling down his barrage of notifications to stare reverently at the one that matters most.

lucallemant started following you

It’s almost two hours past midnight, with him having just finished up the sketch for the side project he’s working on by himself. He’s been looking forward to falling into bed ages ago but now he’s wide awake, brain swirling with jumbled thoughts and with no hope of falling asleep within the next second.

srodulv when should I? should I wait til later?

adam.fk maybe wait til its not 2 in the morning lmfao

srodulv what if I wait too long and he unfollows

abebkhellal god almighty 😂😂😂 sorry bro no one can help u now

srodulv help me

emir.yous why does it matter? just follow him now

idrisomd he’s probably sleeping so he won’t know you’re a nocturnal beast

srodulv he won’t think that’s lame?

omarions he’ll eventually figure out how lame you are so might as well run with it

srodulv fuck off

idrisomd yeah man you can’t hide lame

emir.yous sorry we can’t help with that

abebkhellal rip

srodulv has left the chat

A bunch of useless hooligans, those guys are. He needs better friends.

His phone pings with more notifications— Idris has added him back in the group chat but Eliott ignores the messages for now, knowing full well that there’d be nothing but more of them poking fun at his current dilemma.

He opens up Lucas’ profile, heart palpitating as his thumb hovers over the follow button. Looking at the boy’s feed brings him the same mix of apprehension and fondness, as always. The latter because he’s an idiot who apparently falls head over heels for snippy little piano players and the former because, well—

I’m sorry, bro. I saw something, I think they’re maybe together? I’m still not a hundred percent on it, though.

Eliott sighs, clicking on Lucas’ latest post, of that guy playing the guitar for him. He scoffs, he can play the guitar too. He can even do the Star Wars theme song. On the guitar and the piano. Lucas needs to see that he’s the better choice over here.

He lets his screen go dark, closing his eyes as he urges himself to relax. It is quite an ungodly hour to be awake so he drops his phone on the bed, turns over, and hopes that morning comes with a newfound game plan to get the love of his life to love him back.

The good news is that morning does come, but the bad news is that all the plans he comes up with throughout the day are steaming piles of shit.

“I think I’m in love,” he blurts out, sitting in the basement of Emir’s house. Idris is standing on the couch, trying to cover the ceiling spotlights with printer paper so as to ‘dull’ its luminosity. Adam and Omar are struggling to hold up some desk lamps while Abe holds coloured file folders over the bulb, changing the colour of the lights for the correct ‘ambiance’. Emir is elbow deep in crushed styrofoam pieces.

They all exchange looks of confusion before Abe goes for a hesitant, “Uh... just now?”

Eliott scowls, waving a hand as if they’re so stupid to be unable to read his mind. He gestures to his phone, still open to Lucas’ Instagram page.

"Oh yeah! Any progress on that front?” Idris hops down, eyes glued to the ceiling as he backs up, slowly as if one wrong move could shake the house so much that his pieces of paper would dislodge themselves.

“No.” Eliott pouts, flailing his legs in unashamed frustration.

“Okay, well, have you followed back?” Adam asks, twining some rope around the lamp once they’ve figured out the best angle to go with.

“No. Shit,” Eliott hisses, sitting upright and immediately hitting the follow button. He’s been so focused on figuring out how to start a conversation with his angel that he’s neglected to think of much else.

One of them sighs, but Eliott doesn’t bother to look up at the sound of it.

“So what are you gonna do next?” Emir abandons his crumbly work of art, now sitting cross legged across from Eliott.

“He’s vague posting.” Idris grins, scrolling through his phone. “Ooh, Polaris. When did you even sneak off to take this? That caption though. Much mystery, so cool.”

“Shut up, it’s an old picture.” Eliott throws a couch cushion at him, then proceeds to slide onto the floor, diving flat on his stomach closer to the guys, as he comes up with the most brilliant idea. “What if I’m not?”

“Huh?” Abe goes to sit on the floor as well.

“What if I’m not cool or mysterious? Would that get him to talk to me?” Eliott’s thumbs are working on overdrive before the words are fully out of his mouth, scrolling down each and every one of Lucas’ photos and hitting like on as many of them as he can manage.

He looks up just it time to see the dawning realization on Abe’s face. “No!” he screams in horror, reaching out to snatch the phone from Eliott’s hands. “No, you— oh man, you guys, he did a weird thing.”

“It’s not weird,” Eliott dismisses, trying to retrieve his phone back but every attempt is slapped away by the annoying people he unfortunately calls friends. “It’s called reaching out.”

Idris is cackling, bent over in half as Abe shakes his head in wonder. “That’s kinda genius, though? How very Eliott of you,” Idris gasps out once he’s done wheezing up a lung.

“He’s getting the Eliott experience way too early in the relationship.” Omar mumbles, curiously going through the rest of Lucas’ older posts. “Aw, cute.”

Eliott scrambles towards them, wanting to see which post Omar’s referring to despite the fact that he’s seen every single photo twice over.

His hand slowly creeps up above the phone and double taps on the post.

“Oh my god, someone restrain him.” Adam says, dragging a hand down his face. He sounds like he’s trying his hardest not to laugh which is more than what he can say for the rest of them so Eliott appreciates his effort.

“Come on, Eli monkey, time to break off from Insta for a bit, hm?” Idris walks forward, still chuckling as he tries to pull Eliott off the ground and away from his stolen phone.

Eliott wraps his arms around Idris’ ankles, almost making the latter fall on his face in the process. “But he’s so beautiful.”

“Yes, yes.”

“His eyelashes are the 8th wonder of the world.”

There’s a collective groan from everyone in the room and then Eliott feels a placating hand patting the top of his bowed head. “Yes, we get it. But you gotta get up now, lover boy. We‘ve got shit to film.”

By the time his stop comes up, Eliott has to squeeze himself past a godawful amount of passengers. He gets it’s break week for a lot of the students but considering it’s a Monday afternoon, Eliott is of the opinion that there really shouldn’t be this many people out and about.

His mother’s office is a towering structure of reflective glass and one way windows. Eliott pushes at the revolving doors, nods a smile towards the reception desk, and settles into one of the many armchairs in the lounge area. He shoots a message for his mama to come meet him downstairs and doesn’t wait for a response before switching tabs to pull up the film he’s been wanting to see all day. Initially, he’s planned on seeing it with Lucas, knowing that it’s just the right amount of lengthy and boring (for his boyfriend’s taste) to have Lucas cuddling for a nap on his shoulder instead.

But alas, his plans are impeded by none other than his loving parents. Again. He still hasn’t quite forgiven them for poking fun at him being grumpy at brunch after that first night he’d spent with Lucas.

About ten minutes in, someone walks towards him and sits directly across from Eliott’s armchair, never mind that the entire lounge area is devoid of any other person than the two of them.

Eliott doesn’t pay it much mind, unmuting his phone speakers just loud enough for him to hear the background music coming from the film— he wants to record the sound and see if that kind of music score would work well for the mini project he’s planning to put up in the future.

The stranger lets out a faint chuckle but Eliott ignores him, watching the minutes rise on the recording to make sure that he doesn’t miss a single note. Never let it be said that Eliott doesn’t take his films seriously.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

Violence is never at the forefront of Eliott’s mind. In fact, he thinks it doesn’t solve much, and should be considered as the last resort. But as life would have it, there are always a few exceptions to the rule and unfortunately for his good mood, the sole exception he’s found in his twenty one years of existence has decided that today is the day that Eliott will commit murder.

Eliott’s eyes flick to where Raphael relaxes back in his seat, legs crossed and fingers delicately twined in his lap— to any outside viewer, he truly looks the perfect representation of an educated, well-bred gentleman. Eliott sees why people are drawn him.

“Fancy isn’t the right word,” he says, just as casual. He pauses the film, music cutting off just in time for him to hear another one of Raphael’s grating chuckles. “Why are you here?” The answer is obvious; pressed slacks and dark suit a dead give away. He remembers Lucas mentioning that Raphael works in a law firm but Eliott needs to hear it, to make sure that fate has really handed this opportunity over on a silver platter.

Raphael spreads his arms. “I work here,” he answers, smug. “What about you? Someone trying to pin murder on you?”

Funny how he’s asking that, but Eliott doesn’t answer his question. “New York too much for you, huh.”

Eliott watches the minute narrowing of Raphael’s eyes, taking pleasure in the fact that the guy hasn’t expected Lucas to divulge their story in such detail.

“New York was great, actually, they offered me a spot there as well but eh, I need to think about it.” Raphael leans forward, elbows on knees as he brings one hand up to rub across his lips, faux thoughtful. “I left a little something behind here.” He looks at Eliott, then, and the latter sees the fabricated warmth in his eyes freeze over, ice cold in barely restrained anger. “I want it back.”

Don’t mess this up, Eliott reminds himself, fists clenching and unclenching as he reigns in his temper. How he’d love to feel the crunch of Raphael’s nose under his fists right now, but it’s not that kind of battle. Eliott only has one shot to play his cards right.

“Cut the bullshit,” he responds, surprisingly calm. “Lucas isn’t yours to take back.”

Raphael laughs. “Why, he’s yours now?”

Yes. “Neither. I’d appreciate it if you stop talking like he’s something to pass around.”

“How chivalrous of you.”

“I’m surprised you know what that means.” Eliott wants to say more, but he grits them back. There are more important things for him to needle out. “What with all the shit you put him through.”

“I didn’t do anything.” Raphael falls back into the cushions once more, infuriatingly unaffected.

“Do you want an essay or a list?”

“So quick to believe everything you’re told, are you? Did he cry and look at you with those big blue eyes? He does that all the time to get what he wants.” There’s a strain at the corners of Raphael’s eyes, nonchalant facade slipping down the longer Eliott stares on without a word. “You know there’s no evidence for any of these, right?”

The quick dismissal of Lucas’ personal recounting almost does it for Eliott. But if Raphael is a master of manipulation then Eliott is of restraint— he won’t let Raphael win. “Yeah? You gonna tell that to the marks on his wrists?”

Raphael scoffs, “That was an accident. Friday was a big misunderstanding, trust me. It’s called tough love, he likes it.” He smiles, obviously waiting for a reaction from Eliott but the latter maintains an impassive exterior.

“It’s called assault.” He barely refrains from tagging on a spiteful fuckface at the end of that.

“Whoa there, that’s some heavy accusation you’re dropping!” Raphael laughs, running a hand through his hair. “Do you know who I am?”

“A sad excuse of a man who takes advantage of vulnerable minors?”

Raphael clicks his tongue. “You think you’re so perfect, huh?”

“Far from it.” Eliott shrugs. “But I don’t hurt the people I’m supposed to love.”

“Well aren’t you just the sweetest.” Sarcasm drips from Raphael’s words. “You think if we both stand here, right in front of Lucas, and make him choose.” He leans forward, a desperate glint in his eyes. “You’re positive he’d choose you? Cause let me tell you, Eliott, that boy is wired for my touch, for my voice, for my own to do as I please, and he will choose me no matter how much I hurt him. He will always come back to me and you can’t do shit about it.”

Victory feels good when taken by a landslide. Eliott grins, and he sees confusion, frustration, and wariness warp Raphael’s carefully constructed expression into that of something… human. Human, unlike the impenetrable monster Lucas has painted inside his head. Human, who, despite the cunning and intelligence, very much fucks up like everyone else. And oh, has Raphael fucked up big time.

“My turn,” Eliott says cheerfully, just to mess with the bastard even more. “Do you know who I am?” Slowly, so as to make sure that Raphael catches the movement, Eliott stops the recording on his phone.

Raphael shoots up from his seat, panic dousing his face red all over before seething rage takes prominence. He hisses out a quiet, “Get rid of that, right fucking now. You don’t want to mess with me.”

Eliott stands, huffing out a small laugh as he notices that they’re of equal height. None of Raphael’s tactics has worked, or will ever work on him. “Nah, it’s the other way around.”

“Eliott?”

Georgine Eloise Demaury, part time managing partner of the law firm, part time vicious criminal prosecutor, and full time doting mother, makes a tall, intimidating figure in her navy suit and sky high heels. Her eyes are steel blue as they land on Eliott and Raphael alternatively. The red on her lips is a sharp scowl, striking against the paleness of her skin.

Eliott presses his lips together, amused at the sight of what he fondly refers to as her working bitch face. She’s forbidden Eliott from visiting her at work too often just because he’s the only one capable of cracking her diabolical attorney persona. He keeps quiet, shrugging innocently when she raises a questioning eyebrow at him.

“Hi, mama.”

He hears Raphael’s sharp intake of breath and fuck, that feels good.

Her lips twitch the slightest bit. “You two know each other?”

“Just having a friendly chat,” Eliott says, looking over at Raphael with a tight smile. He relishes the startled loss he sees there.

“I’m waiting on a call from Mr. Schutt,” Raphael says, rearranging his face, posture straightening under Georgine’s gaze.

“And you?” She addresses Eliott this time.

“I brought lunch?” Eliott gestures at his bag on the chair. “Papa got worried you’d starve when you told him you forgot it.”

She rolls her eyes at her husband’s dramatics. “You didn’t have to come here.”

“Yeah, well, tell that to papa. You’re gonna have to eat it now, I ditched my boyfriend for this.”

“Ah, how’s Lucas? Come up to my office, you didn’t finish telling me how he’s doing last night,” she says, rigid frown compensating for the soft tone in her voice. Across from Eliott, Raphael flinches at the mention of Lucas’ name. “I need to grab something from IT and then I’ll be right there.”

“Will do.” Eliott smiles, throwing his backpack over one shoulder when his mother walks away. He waits until the click clacking of her heels fade off completely before he turns to face Raphael. “So anyway, I suggest you think very hard about that offer in New York.”

“You’re insane,” Raphael mutters behind clenched jaws.

Years ago, that might have stung. Coming from someone else, it might still hurt. But as it is, Eliott revels in it. “You have no idea,” he says, raising his hand for the most condescending pat on the back he’s ever delivered before heading off to the elevators.

Eliott ends up taking a long nap on his mother’s office couch, tired from interacting with Raphael and his stupid mind games. Sure, he’d come out on top of that one but lengthy confrontations are most definitely not Eliott’s cup of tea. He thinks if Raphael still has the audacity to show his face after that, Eliott will let loose of inhibitions and just start a proper fist fight.

Recording their conversation had been a gut reaction— he’s not even sure it would help much if push comes to shove. But his mother has quite the terrifying track record and judging from Raphael’s reaction, he knows that too. He almost wishes for Raphael to do something stupid, to trip up the wire on Eliott’s half baked, convoluted plan to take him down permanently. The idea of delving into it scares him a little. He knows shit all about the justice system and Raphael is literally part of the goddamn system.

Lucas wants to leave it to karma, and maybe he’s right.

But then Eliott remembers the tears streaming nonstop down Lucas’ face, the blank disconnect in his eyes throughout that night. His worn voice begging for Eliott not to let go. The hours spent in bed coaxing for an unresponsive Lucas to sleep just a little, I’m right here. The events of that night have taken permanent residence in his mind, painfully unwanted, but there to stay.

lucallemant Eliott, I know I said I’d give you all the time you need And I mean it, you can have more right after this But please, can you pick me up at work? I need you please Please

Call him dramatic all you want, but Eliott’s world comes apart when he reads Lucas’ pleading messages. His vision narrows, the path a blurred vignette, and time slows as if he’s thrown into the fucking matrix. Except there’s nothing exciting or amusing with this development, and his limbs work through honey as he turns and grabs a jacket, shoves his feet into mismatched shoes, and makes a run for it.

It’s not the messages itself that cost him his breath— though those do have him worried out of his mind, unable to even begin guessing as to what would scare Lucas enough to send them. It’s the timestamps that have his heart rattling with unease. The faint chanting of too late too late too late a mournful echo in his head.

He pays no mind to it when he begins panting, head pounding as the freezing wind bites at him with heavy force, unbothered that he hasn’t eaten much for the past however long. He’s not going to stop until he reaches his destination.

However, when he gets there, the cafe is dark and empty. You’re too late, the voice is screaming now. Eliott tells it to shut up, paces the area for a bit, and then checks inside the darkened alleyways. It’s empty. He walks the opposite direction, headed towards the parking lot— and there, that’s when he hears the hushed voice speaking.

Eliott swivels around, rushes towards the sound, and doesn’t allow himself to hesitate on the idea that it’s not Lucas trapped in between the wall and that man’s body.

“Get the fuck off of him.” When he’s close enough, he shoves them apart, fighting against the urge to take Lucas in his arms right away. He has to get rid of the man first. The visceral clutch of anger simmers inside of him, a heat of gargantuan proportions boiling his blood. Eliott imagines this is what one would feel like just before committing a heinous crime.

His interaction with the stranger barely sticks to Eliott’s mind, more focused on the way Lucas presses close to his back. His hands shake with barely constrained fury but he doesn’t move, afraid Lucas will fall if Eliott isn’t there to hold him up. “You can fuck right off or I swear to god.”

The man raises his hands, chuckles ringing malicious as he shakes his head. “You don’t know what you’re getting into.”

Eliott doesn’t care for his cryptic bullshit. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

His smile is visible in the dark and Eliott’s been around enough of those with questionable morals to pinpoint the lack of kindness in it. “Fine.” He tilts his head as if to catch a final glimpse of Lucas but Eliott tucks Lucas in tight behind him— this guy doesn’t deserve to even look at him.

When the sound of a car engine fades out, Eliott turns around, engulfing Lucas as best as he can, hoping that his embrace would provide a temporary shelter from it all. He knows it’s impossible, knows he can’t do much on his end other than watch with powerless clarity as painful sobs wrack the small body in his arms. He repeats a litany of apologies into Lucas’ hair. “I have you, I have you.”

Their walk home is silence in its strangest form. Eliott realizes there’s something wrong, he can feel it at the tips of his fingers but he puts it down to Lucas gathering his thoughts and lets him be.

“Lucas,” he says as the apartment comes into view. “I know we haven’t… I don’t… listen, can I stay with you for the night? I’ll sleep on the couch, anything, I just want to be there.”

Silence.

Eliott bites his cheek, fidgeting nervously when Lucas continues to not say anything. He chances a glance at the boy beside him and sees him looking straight ahead, expression blank as if nothing’s been said.

“Thanks,” is all Lucas says once they reach the steps to the building, failing to acknowledge Eliott’s request.

“Lucas, wait!”

Unheard, just like the last time.

There’s something really, really wrong.

Eliott picks at his head, staring up at what he knows to be the window to Lucas’ apartment. He tells himself he’ll only wait until the lights flicker on, but seconds turn to minutes and the window remains dark. Chest tightening, Eliott changes his mind. He’ll wait until someone goes in or exits the building, will plant himself outside of Lucas’ door— he doesn’t care if Lucas or Yann don’t want to see his face right now, all he wants is to make sure that Lucas stays safe for the rest of the night.

Except the next person to exit the doors is Lucas himself, Champ cradled in his arms.

“Why are you not inside?” Eliott is familiar with the feeling of helplessness but it always pertains to his own mind, his own body. He’s rarely ever so taken off guard that he doesn’t know how to make it better for someone else. And yet here he stands, frozen with panic, speechless in the face of the one he loves most.

Yann isn’t home, Lucas is hard-pressed on buying extra locks for their door, and there’s no way Eliott is letting him back inside the apartment all alone.

“Lucas,” Eliott reaches out, wants nothing more than to cradle Lucas’ face in between his hands, but he’s afraid of what touching him would do. “Come back to me.” It sounds unsteady even to his own ears and maybe Eliott’s having a little trouble breathing, but he’s more desperate for Lucas to meet his eyes than worry about his next inhale.

Lucas doesn’t. Come back to Eliott, that is.

The entire walk up to his apartment, and then the walk back to Eliott’s are both filled with a strained distance that has nothing to do with physical proximity. Eliott’s no longer surprised when Lucas doesn’t answer any of his questions but he keeps firing off either way, hoping against all odds that something would click. But it doesn’t work that way, he knows. He, of all people, should know better.

He tries again once they’re inside the safety of Eliott’s home. “Lucas, are you with me?” Eliott asks and he’s not. He’s not.

Running out of options, Eliott’s hand hovers over his mom’s contact info, his dad’s, Idris’, Lucille’s— he just wants someone to tell him what to do.

In the end he doesn’t get to call anyone, as a loud thud comes from the bathroom where he’d left Lucas and Eliott trips over himself in his rush, crashing into the kitchen counter, banging his arms against the potted plant hanging in the living room.

But the pain from those clumsy little accidents is nothing compared to the sight of Lucas crying on the floor, blue eyes running red from the force of his tears. “Lucas?”

“Eliott.” His voice is so quiet, so broken that it takes Eliott down to his knees, colliding harshly against the tiled floors as he brings Lucas into the circle of his arms. Tears gather in the corners of Eliott’s eyes but he knows for certain that they’re not from the sting of his fall.

“Don’t let me go back,” Lucas pleads, breath caught between one word and the other.

“You’re never going back,” Eliott swears on his life.

Lucas quiets down after what feels like hours upon hours of tears and stuttering breaths. Eliott knows he isn’t asleep, though— his wet lashes brush softly against the skin of Eliott’s neck for every blink. Left without much option, Eliott detangles their legs and carefully lifts Lucas into his arms, a mustard seed of hope swelling in his chest when Lucas twitches at the movement. There’s a pause as Eliott waits for the boy to protest, grumble for Eliott to put him down, he can walk on his own.

It doesn’t come, so Eliott goes to tuck him into bed, receives no protest when he quietly dresses Lucas in the clothes he’s brought out. Lucas’ eyes remain downcast the entire time, immovable no matter how many times Eliott brushes a hand through his hair, wipes at the tear tracks smeared on his cheeks.

Lucas doesn’t sleep until well past two in the morning. Eliott doesn’t sleep at all.

“You okay, honey?”

His mama looks like a whole different person in private, Eliott’s always marvelled at her ability to switch off just like that. Her eyes are all clear skies and motherly affection, no trace of the savage G.E Demaury to be found as her hands card gently through his hair.

He wants to tell her so badly, but this is Lucas’ story to share. Involving his parents to ask for help with anything is a foreign concept to Lucas and would make this a bit more complicated, yes, so Eliott will just have to wear patience like it’s going out of style.

“Yeah,” he croaks out, still groggy from his nap.

“Do you wanna wait for me to finish up here and I can drive you back?”

“Uh…” Eliott rubs his eyes, forcing his brain to catch up with his mama’s words. He checks his phone before answering, blinking while his eyes adjust to the brightness of his screen.

lucallemant Do you wanna come over for tonight? I know we were just together but It’s fine if you’re gonna be back too late though

He thinks he’s actually physically melting just from reading those. “It’s okay, I have to get going now.”

srodulv If I didn’t fall asleep I’d be begging you to come over anyway

lucallemant You were asleep at your mom’s work??

srodulv 😂 See you soon ♥️♥️♥️ ♥️♥️♥️♥️ ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️ ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️ ☹️ ♥️

lucallemant ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️ ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️ ♥️♥️♥️♥️ ♥️♥️♥️ ♥️♥️ ♥️

srodulv 😊 ♥️

He stops to get some take out on the way, knowing Yann will be there and would most likely not be so chummy with Eliott after the whole thing from the past few weeks. He figures he can extend a truce through food— the way to a man’s heart and all.

When he knocks on Lucas’ door, he hears a couple of thuds, some rapid, illegible whispering, and then the door finally opens only for Lucas to catapult himself into Eliott’s arms. The door slams shut behind him and Eliott might just be seeing things but he’s pretty sure that’s a glimpse of Yann’s unimpressed form standing on the other side of the door.

“Hi,” Lucas breathes out, one arm slung around Eliott’s neck while the other is bent awkwardly behind him, holding onto the wriggling doorknob as if to keep a ravenous beast from escaping.

Uh oh.

“Hi,” Eliott greets back. “On a scale of Champ to Jurassic Park, how scared should I be of Yann right now?”

Lucas bites his lip and Eliott can’t help it— he kisses him before Lucas can respond. He means for it to be a chaste touch, but Lucas lets go of the knob (thankfully no longer rattling) and throws both arms around Eliott, pressing closer and opening his lips to deepen the kiss. Eliott lets himself indulge in it but is quickly brought back to reality when he tries to wrap both arms around Lucas only for the take out bag to hit Lucas’ ass with a dull thunk.

“Ow, what the fuck.” Lucas pulls away, spinning on the spot as he looks for the offender.

“Sorry,” Eliott laughs, lifting the bag. “I bought food. Peace offering.”

“Oh my god, you’re so smart,” Lucas says, sounding genuinely pleased. “I apologize in advance though, he thinks he’s my dad sometimes.”

“Damn right!” Yann shouts from behind the door.

“Jesus.” Lucas mutters under his breath. “You ready?”

Eliott nods, rehearsing the quick speech he��d made up in his head during the ride back to Lucas’ place. All that preparation’s for nothing, however, when all Yann does is look at him when the door finally opens. He looks at Eliott like he’d done weeks ago, when Eliott had taken Lucas home after the encounter with his father, unspoken understanding passing between the two of them as easy as that.

I technically have no right to be mad but I am, Yann’s usually kind eyes are hardened earth. There’ll be hell to pay if you pull that shit again, the look in them all but screams mistrust.

Eliott nods, hoping Yann also understands his most sincere but wordless response— never again.

The stare off probably only lasts a few seconds but to Eliott, it feels like an eternity before Yann’s eyes start to squint, one hand reaching for the take out bag that Eliott has stuck in the space between the two of them. Slowly, Yann takes a hold of it, snatches the bag from Eliott’s grip, and sniffs into it. He’s still squinting at Eliott as he walks backwards to take the food inside the kitchen.

“Okay, weird but blessedly silent. I’ll take it,” Lucas huffs, taking Eliott’s hand and dragging him past the living room and into the little hallway. Belatedly, Eliott realizes that they’re headed straight for the bedroom, Lucas marching them towards the door like a man on a mission.

“Don’t you wanna eat?” Eliott asks, pulling back to slow Lucas down. “I bought that for you too.”

“Later, I just,” Lucas pauses, his door already wide open once they reach it. “I have to ask you something.”

Well that doesn’t sound foreboding at all. Eliott clears his throat. “Okay.”

They arrange themselves on the foot of the bed, legs crossed and facing each other. When Lucas starts fidgeting, Eliott reaches over to intertwine their fingers together.

“I know we joked about it before… or more like just yesterday actually… but uh,” Lucas starts, looking around the room to avoid meeting Eliott’s eyes head on. “So Marie’s home now and I’m taking Champ back to her on Thursday.”

“Okay,” Eliott says, smiling when Lucas discreetly looks at him from the corner of his eyes.

“Okay, um.” Lucas takes a deep breath and spills the rest out on a long exhale. “My mom will be there too and I was wondering if you’d like to come?” He’s wincing by the time the question ends and Eliott, endeared, can only stare. “Maybe? You don’t have to. I understand if it’s too early or whatever—”

Eliott brings their tangled hands up to his lips and rains down kisses to the back of Lucas’ palms until he shuts up.

“I’ll come,” he says, and then after a short silence continues with, “I’d love to.”

Lucas’ relief is palpable.

“Okay. That’s… that’s good.”

“You’re cute when you’re all nervous like this,” Eliott teases, wanting to see Lucas’ smile. Sure, it’s only been a couple of minutes since he’s last seen it but Eliott’s one greedy motherfucker when comes to Lucas.

“What?” The corner of Lucas’ lips tilts up, but it’s not quite the smile Eliott’s looking for.

“You’re all nice and cute when you’re nervous. No room for snarking or swearing at me.”

“Shut up.”

“Ah, it was good while it lasted.”

“Shut up!” Lucas laughs, kicking at Eliott’s knee.

“Oh you’re kicking me now too, my god, such violence from a tiny human.”

“You’re so dumb.” Lucas pushes at his shoulder and Eliott goes down easily, but not before winding an arm around Lucas so that his boyfriend falls on top of him in their descent. “Such an idiot.”

“Your idiot,” Eliott retorts as cheesily as can be, grinning when Lucas laughs again, eyes scrunched and mouth open.

“God, do you ever shut up?”

“Yeah, there’s one way to shut me up.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, you’re really good at it.”

Lucas leans down and Eliott feels the smile on his lips. The kisses start off as innocent pecks, short and dry, until Lucas brushes their noses together and teases the tip of his tongue in between Eliott’s slightly parted lips.

Eliott surges up then, locking their lips together as he moves, sitting upright with his arms still secured around Lucas. His boyfriend goes along with it, easily shuffling around so that he’s sat comfortably on Eliott’s lap, hands slightly cold against the back of Eliott’s neck, but the latter doesn’t mind— Lucas’ mouth is scorching enough to make up for it.

His jacket gets tossed to the floor at some point and his hands wander inside Lucas’ hoodie, searching for the warmth of his skin under, encouraged by the way Lucas tightens his arms around Eliott’s shoulders when he runs a hand from the nape of Lucas’ neck down to the dip low on his back. The intensity reminds him of their first time— only slightly, because Eliott doesn’t think anything could come close to that night. But he recalls the warm weight of Lucas on his lap, against the wall, over him, under him. Recalls the way he’d jokingly asked Lucas how many fingers he’s holding up. How Lucas had very non jokingly slipped the two fingers in his mouth and licked around them until Eliott lost his mind.

The memory of it has heat rushing up and down Eliott’s body in frantic jolts, melting away his higher functions until he finally flips them over, gently laying Lucas down below him just like he’s always done. His fingers lightly dance along the line of Lucas' jeans and the latter lets him, Lucas’ hands exploring the wide expanse of Eliott’s back under his shirt.

And that’s something new— not Lucas touching him no, but rather the confidence he exudes in bed. Eliott doesn’t think he’d ever forget the shakiness of Lucas’ breath, the furious drumming of his pulse, the flinches he’s tried so hard to cover up. Eliott’s noticed every single one of them, often pausing to suggest for them to stop only for Lucas to hold him by the sides of his face and mutter a determined, keep going.

Back then he couldn’t figure out if there’s a story behind it, or if Lucas is only nervous about being intimate with someone else. Now that he knows, can extrapolate the details from what Lucas has told him so far, Eliott’s heart is close to bursting with the realization of how much trust Lucas has placed in his hands that very first time. Of how much trust he continues to have in Eliott despite all that’s happened.

I love you, his touch speaks, lingering and light over the smooth skin of Lucas’ waist.

I love you, his eyes repeat, insistent, hopeless, as they meet Lucas’ wide, adoring gaze.

I love you, his mouth whispers, soundless against the brush of Lucas’ lips, plush softness falling open under the gentle touch of Eliott’s tongue.

I love you, he wants to say, out loud, with all his anxious, fragile heart but what comes out instead is a nearly inaudible, “You’re so beautiful.”

Maybe someday, he’ll be able to speak as it is. Someday, he’ll work up the courage to stop hiding behind soft touches and pretty words. But as Eliott opens his eyes on a slow blink, he looks down at Lucas and catches the most tender of smiles directed up at him. Maybe words aren’t needed right now. For Lucas, in this moment, maybe Eliott is enough.

“No, you,” Lucas retorts childishly, arching up to press a giggle into Eliott’s amused smile.

“This is a losing battle, baby.” Eliott nuzzles his cheeks, nose instinctively wrinkling when Lucas kisses the tip of it. The sweltering heat has cooled between them, replaced by a softer kind of warmth.

“Yeah, your losing battle,” Lucas says, trying to shift from under Eliott’s weight. “Baby,” he adds in a whisper, smile cheeky when Eliott’s head snaps up to look at him. He sputters, unfairly flustered at hearing Lucas use that pet name, any pet name in fact, for the first time—

“Are you being a brat?” Eliott tries to keep his voice stern, but he’s pretty sure his eyes give it away as Lucas dissolves into helpless giggles. “Are you being a brat?” he repeats a little louder, hands splayed widely over Lucas’ sides, curling up where his boyfriend is most ticklish.

“No!” But it’s too late, Eliott’s already found his weakest spots and proceeds with the attack, relentless despite Lucas’ half formed begging in between his laughter. “Eliott, no! Wait!” he squeaks, turning red when one of Eliott’s hands slide up to tickle at his neck.

Eliott only stops when Lucas, breathless and teary-eyed, pouts pitifully up at him. Honestly, what human being with a heart could resist that? So he leans down and brings the jut of Lucas’ bottom lip in between his teeth, waiting until his boyfriend opens his mouth on a groan before diving in for a kiss. Lucas’ hands immediately tangle themselves into Eliott’s hair, legs pulling up to wrap around him as if Eliott has any batshit plans of leaving the bed any time soon. Eliott’s shirt is halfway off his back when Lucas’ door creaks open.

They barely let up, both expecting to see Yann coming to interrupt them for whatever reason but the entry way is empty.

“What—”

Soft, fast-paced panting is their answer and Eliott’s completely unprepared for when Lucas shoves him off the bed with all his might— Eliott hangs onto the sheets to keep from cracking his head open.

“Oh shit, sorry!” Lucas shouts, dragging Eliott back up to the center of the bed. “I just— Champ’s just a baby, she can’t see that!”

Eliott doesn’t know whether to agree or laugh. He figures responding with a deadpan she’s just a dog won’t go over too well with Lucas so he keeps that thought to himself. With a sigh, Eliott smooths down his shirt and walks over to where Champ is still panting happily up at them.

“Are you happy now?” He asks the dog, crouching closer to her level and tapping her tiny nose with a finger. He carries her in his arms on his way out to the living room, turning back to see Lucas attempting to fix his hair as if Yann doesn’t already know what they’ve been up to, alone in the room for at least half an hour. “Come on, baby, let’s keep Yann company before he decides to take back my rights.”

#skam france #elu fic #elu insta au #fictag #there are about 20 variations of this chapter #lays down #chapter warning: ch11 flashback #the eliott pov i've been hiding

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fmjoanna · 4 years

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hola , mamakeishas ! 😍 i’m claire, and we love a good repurposing of intro posts. no but seriously, i’m really excited that this is finally open. i’m also really excited to meet all of your muses & write with youuuu. so without further ado, lemme introduce you to jo. aka my stupid, stubborn child who i love so much. like this & i’ll swoop into your dms for some plots. 👉👈

☆ . · . cindy kimberly, twenty-one, cisfemale, she/her . · . ☆ JOANNA “JO” VASQUEZ lives in that huge mansion over there! no, not that one. look for PERFECTLY TRIMMED HEDGES and that’ll be it. the ACTRESS has offered occasional glimpses of MAROON walls and an impressive collection of WINE in the background of social media posts, but all of that is nothing compared to seeing the opulence in person. they’ve remained DILIGENT as ever since moving to tercet court FOUR MONTHS AGO, but it seems like they might’ve gotten a little more RESERVED too. maybe that’s why they’re rumored to have such a CAUTIOUS relationship with everyone else who lives on this street.

* BACKSTORY .

tw. mentions of drugs & death.

from the beginning , it was never jo’s dream to be famous. while most girls were at home playing with toys, jo was getting prepped for auditions by her parents. they had ambitions ———— to get filthy stinkin’ rich off the back of their daughter, and for the most part, it worked.

jo landed a major role in a disney show ( think like hannah montanna or wizards of waverly place, that kinda cultural impact ), and quickly, she became one of america’s sweethearts. that was a lot for one kid to handle, with all the filming, press, etc. her parents, of course, ate up the attention and capitalized off it fairly quickly. brand deals, interviews, anything you could find a child star on at that time. it pretty quickly became overwhelming, but she was definitely raking in the dough. that meant she was to continue, no matter how tired of it she was.

which is where her perfectionism comes in to play, she had a lot of people relying on her ———— her parents, who she loved regardless of the stress they put her through, director, costars, company, etc. jo was definitely a natural when it came to acting. she knew how deliver line after line, emote, and successfully pull off a comedic moment. on screen, she played a charismatic, social butterfly, which was the exact opposite of who she really was, a quiet, nervous girl who valued her privacy and just wanted to live a normal life.

which began to take it’s toll on her. the older the she became, the less she liked being seen as the sweet girl next door, so she completely had a breaking out of that mold phase ( ala like miley cyrus or britney spears ) around the time her disney show came to an end. much to her parents dismay, she became known more for her off-screen antics than her onscreen one & definitely kept the paparazzi’s pockets fat. “jo vasquez spotted (fill in the blank with something controversial)” filled the pages of magazines for a lot of her 17-18 years, and she went from america’s sweetheart to probably one of america’s most hated lol. it had a negative impact on her career as well, which she was happy about for awhile. that is, until she realized that most of the money she made as a child was collected by her parents & not her.

with no money coming in & the relationship with her parents souring, she left home & avoided the spotlight for around three years. probably lost contact with a lot of people then too. she thought a nice, quiet time by herself & without paparazzi following her 24/7 would be healthy.

& it was. jo used the last bit of her childhood savings to fund her time away, but with money tight , she was a bit unsure of what was left to do. that’s where her great aunt came in. her great aunt had gotten rich of her stocks in a successful makeup line when she was in her late 30′s ( something that joanna’s parents were super jealous of ). with that kind of money, she was able to move to the hills and purchase a beautiful home. joanna had met her only once or twice, but there was definite tension between her parents and her aunt. the only thing she really knew about her was that she was wealthy and lived alone, no kids or significant other.

unexpectedly, her great aunt passed away, news that didn’t reach jo until she got a letter from her aunt’s lawyer, saying that since her great aunt didn’t have kids & didn’t want to leave her belongings to her niece ( jo’s mother ), she had left everything to jo. it completely caught her off guard, and she considers herself pretty lucky.

she knew that she couldn’t stay in the hills forever without some income, and because she feels like acting is what she’s best at, she decided to contact her old manager, and together, they came up with a plan to revive her career.

sooooo , now she’s back in los angeles. media has def heard of her return ( apart of her manager’s plan ) & there’s been a small amount of buzz around it. she’s more of a former a-list, so she’s really not that in demand. however, she did manage to land a supporting role in a major blockbuster ( something like a marvel movie probs ) so she’s hoping that’ll change fairly soon.

* PERSONALITY .

probably fake lol. let’s just be honest. kinda hates the celebrity lifestyle & is cautious when it comes to other people in the industry so yeah, she’s the type to smile in your face and then glare when your backs turned. she knows how important connections are in this business & word travels fast so she’s probably not “real” except with the people she’s closest to. also the type to be like “OMG ofc i know what that is. 😍 it’s my fave” but then have absolutely no clue what the fuck it is lmaoo a tragedy

she’s a hard worker & def a perfectionist. everything has to be perfect, and she’ll do as much as she can to get it right. it’s probs the reason she stuck with acting b/c the trial and error of learning something new would be way too much for her lol.

but also enjoys time out a lil too much prolly. is a regular to night life & partying ( more under wraps now than back in the day ) & will out drink just about anyone you know. it makes her a bit more brave & she believes ppl bare their souls when they’re inebriated so it’s easier to get to know ppl. what a weirdo. also partakes in her fair share of prolly just weed. no hard drugs tbh she’s not the one

your average gal just looking to have fun , but could def potentially catch feelings that she would deny til she can’t anymore or until it’s too late. 🤪 lowkey wants someone to just sweep her off her feet, but she’s blind to the reality that she always be making things complicated.

behind the facade, she’s a bit stubborn. probably also a side effect of being a perfectionist & also her need for control ( since she lacked that when she was young ) so be prepared for that

* WANTED CONNECTIONS .

ok but plots really do be making my world go ‘round. 😳 i love em, so literally hmu with anything you’re feeling, and i’ll be down. just wanna plot & write with everyone 💕 but here’s a couple of wanted connections for y’all. i’ll prolly have a most wanted tag sooner or later & i’ma be make a plot page soon.

best friend / friend group: there’s no way jo could function without friends, so pls give her some good ass platonic tingz. these are the people she can be herself around, so she holds them really dear.

people from the past: someone she knew from the past. could be friends, enemies, lovers, costars, etc. she didn’t really let that many people know that she was leaving so now that she’s back it could be like 👀 dramatic.

unrequited love / crush: these are fun. joanna doesn’t really know how to handle her romantic feelings so it’d probably be her getting the cold shoulder .

hookups / fwb: past, present, future. fwb would probs get messy. maybe she caught feelings or sumn.

former friends: something happened & they’re no longer friends. we can plot it all out . :^)

childhood friends to lovers to exes that ended on bad terms: saw this on a plot masterlist & it sounds fun so i thought i’d put it here lol.

literally anything your heart desires: a lot could work. we could even just start from nowhere & have them meet for the first time b/c jo’s only been back for a couple of months.

#linksintro #oh hey :^)

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maknaesdancersrappers · 5 years

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on the first day of kinkmas, my lover did to me:

[ a n g r y s e x ]

>TAEYONG

>warning/s: face fucking, unprotected sex

a/n: when i was at the sleepover, my friend told me about how he and the girl he’s seeing gets off at hating on a person and we were laughing so hard because it’s technically hate/angry sex right?? Just not towards each other lol anD ALSO THIS TEACHER WAS BASED OFF A REAL PROF I HAD BACK IN COLLEGE THAT COST ME A “Failure due to absences” MARK ON MY RECORDS i was that chicken towards him and i feel like most of this was just me shitting on him huhuhu if soMEONE FROM MY SCHOOL RECOGNIZES WHO THIS IS IM GONNA-- pls dont spread it around if u kno who this prof is huhuhuhuhu im probably //already// on his hitlist

Everyone hated at least one teacher they had come across in school; you met yours during Junior year in college. Mr. Chon was your Writing for Film elective professor and you’ve heard all the stories about how strict and uptight he was. You had blockmates who had him as a prof last semester and they always talked about how every meeting with him was living hell. You weren’t happy at the news, especially since he wasn’t even the prof you signed up for in the beginning.

There was only one class for the elective and you were able to get into the list before the final enrollment date, but because more people signed up for it and the registrar is absolute shit; you, along with other people, have been transferred to a new class--with the strictest, terror prof known in school.

You tried to appeal to the registrar for you to move back, but they put the blame on the Department of Comm for the class list and in the end, you weren’t allowed to move.

The first meeting with Mr. Chon was terrifying. Everyone in the room felt like they couldn’t breathe; so quiet that you could hear a pin drop and the air conditioning system sounded deafening. This elective was comprised mostly of Comm students and there were only a few of you that weren’t; one of which was your seatmate, Lee Taeyong, a dance major.

Before Mr. Chon entered the room, the two of you promised to help each other since your free time matched one another’s and neither of you wanted to do this alone. His friends ditched him last minute when he enrolled, opting for another elective he didn’t have the prerequisite of.

The first couple of classes with Mr. Chon was bearable. He made you guys watch highly rated films from his favorite directors during class and series like ‘Lost’ and ‘Designated Survivor’ for weekend homework. When it came to the first assignment, which was to pitch film ideas, it was all easy going aside from the one slip up majority of the class, with you included, of not printing it out in the specific format he made clear on the first day.

Strike one.

But when the time came to start working on the final project, as it is a full script for a film, the stress of it all came piling up. Mr. Chon gave out assignments to create character sheets, a lesson he never gave on, and expected you to submit a properly written one from research alone.

But before you can even create character sheets, he had to choose and approve a logline from the ones you’ve submitted beforehand. You tried to be nice and formal in your emails to him, always ending the message with a “Thank you and God bless.”

His replies sounded harsh despite the lack of words that would support that description. He had reprimanded you for submitting an edited version of the logline you presented in class, saying that no matter how good it was, if it was not submitted properly the day he had expected to receive it on a printed paper, he had expected you to revise all off them.

Strike two.

So you apologized for your mistake and made new loglines; and luckily he had chosen one that suited his taste. When it came to creating a character sheet, you were reprimanded for the format and given an example on how to make a proper one. However, you didn’t quite understand the file he had sent and took your chance into making minor changes to your previous submission, taking into account the little information you’ve understood from the text.

Strike three.

He reprimanded you (AGAIN), through email, for the ‘pathetic’ edit you’ve made. Ordering you to personally consult him after class or through scheduled one-on-one meetings in the Comm office where two other assistants can be witnesses to the whole ordeal.

This was indeed disadvantageous to you because while your classmates had the freedom to consult him 24/7 through email, you had to wait for class--one you had once a week--before you can even officially start anything, and that’s IF he approves anything.

At this point, you gave up; on him, the class, and your grade. It might be too late to officially drop out of class, but you can use up all your allowed absences until he’s failed you for it.

You were upset at your decision but it was the best sounding option you had, even Taeyong agreed to it because he couldn’t even get his loglines approved. You agreed to accompany him when he had his one-on-one consultation for his third revision of loglines and nearly half an hour later, he practically stormed out of the office while violently whispering to you that he was joining your little ‘boycott’ of the subject after Mr. Chon told him to revise everything again in the most passive aggressive manner.

Both of you had three allowed absences before your final grades would be considered FA (Failure due to Absences) and the two of you spent the supposed class hours together instead to ease each other of the anxiety of it all.

“I hate him.” You snarled, throwing your head back to gulp the can of beer Taeyong had offered you. “It wasn’t even fair to begin with!”

It was the last allowed absence you had for class. The thought of it made you cry, thinking how it would tarnish your records and disappoint your parents if they find out.

Taeyong wipes your tear with his thumb. You had oddly gotten close with Taeyong because of the elective; working together to do your assignments, consulting one another for suggestions, and especially sharing mutual hate for the class. It was maybe a month and a half already, but it’s as if you and Taeyong had been friends since freshman year.

“We both enrolled and paid on time for the original class and prof, why were we the ones moved?” You sniffed, silently thanking Taeyong for inviting you to his dorm so you could vent out your feelings to someone who understands the situation.

“I know. But the system sucks, what can a couple of students do against them?” He sighs, rubbing his eyes in frustration; probably wanting to cry as well with how his voice shook. He was his organization’s vice president and he had plans to run as president the next year, but with an FA grade, he doubts he can even make the minimum CQPA to run as treasurer. “Ah, hyung would be so disappointed if I don’t take his spot as org president.”

You glance at the wall clock as you take another gulp of beer, “T-there’s like 30 minutes before class actually starts… should we just go?”

Taeyong snaps his attention towards you, “Are you crazy? And what will we say for ditching class for two meetings? We don’t have anything to present to him. He might as well give us an ‘F’ as fat as him if we show up empty handed.”

You hated how he was right; Mr. Chon would probably eat you alive in front of class for doing so. “Yeah, w-we shouldn’t. We need to commit to this stupid idea of ours.”

A phone begins to ring and Taeyong stands up to answer the call outside.

You let your gaze wander around the room, noting how clean and organized it was. You vaguely remember him telling you how he always cleaned up after his roommate, but he took no offence to it, rather enjoying the act of tidying up as a stress reliever or time killer.

As you finish off your beer, you receive a notification for a new email from no other than Mr. Chon, reminding you of the consequences if you don’t show up to class and the way he had worded it so condescendingly made your blood boil, and on top of that had it CC’d to both assistants AND the chairperson of the department, you just felt utter rage from embarrassment.

You put your phone down before you could even reply with the most improper and vulgar message you can think of. At the same time, you hear the front door slam and Taeyong is stalking into the room; face red and nostrils flared.

Before you could even ask, he’s screaming in frustration: “Our president found out that I’m purposefully failing a class and is demanding me to attend it! He even went as far as threatening to take me off my position as vice president!”

“Then make him go through the class and let’s see how he deals with Mr. Chon, who, by the way, just emailed us. He’s reminding us of the consequences and you know what’s worse? He had copies of the email sent to both assistants and the chairperson of the department! Like, was that even necessary?”

“What the hell?” He checks his phone immediately, scowling when he finds the email. “What is his problem?! Does he get off of our misery or something? I’ve never dealt with this kind of prof before! He doesn’t even fucking teach!”

You don’t really know Taeyong long enough to think formulate this opinion, but you’ve never seen him so angry and honestly, he looked hot.

Maybe he caught how you looked at him, but one second he’s ready to spit out more hate, instead he slams his lips over yours, grabbing the sides of your face with his hands after dropping his phone to the floor.

It caught you off guard; making you stumble back a few steps at how he met your lips, your hands flying to grasp the cloth of his shirt around his waist. He steadies you against him, slipping his fingers over your nape as his tongue licks your bottom lip.

When you part your lips to make way for him, he wastes no time slipping the wet muscle into your mouth and exploring the warm cavern. You both moan at the contact of your tongues, tasting each other of the beers and mints you previously had.

“Fuck,” He gasps in between kisses, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay. You look so hot when you’re angry.” You guide his hand over your chest.

“Yeah?” Taeyong squeezes your breast, moving his lips onto your jaw. He slides his thigh between your legs and rubs it over your crotch, hurriedly.

Stifling a moan, you stretch your neck out to give him more access and thread your fingers through his hair as you grind yourself on him.

He brings his mouth over yours again after slipping his hands under your shirt to get a better feel of your boobs, pressing his thumbs over your nipples until they were pert to his touch. He helps you out of your blouse, using the moment your lips are separated to unhook your bra. While he shrugs out of his own shirt, you fall to your knees and begin to to unzip his pants.

Once you were able to push his pants down and free his cock out of his briefs, you engulf most of his length as best as you can, tightening a grip on the few centimeters with one hand.

Taeyong cusses above you, moaning low as he combs your head back.

A ringtone erupts from below you and you fish out his phone out of his pants, handing it to him before resuming your previous act. “Answer it.”

He swallows hard as he obeys your request, not even giving the caller ID a glance before picking it up. “Hello?”

You watch him through your lashes, continuing to lick the underside of his cock.

“Wha-Calm down! I’ve made up mind! I’m not going to class and it’s way too late now.” He shouts into his phone, catching you by surprise.

You meant to pull away but his hand pushes you back down his cock, forcing the tip all the way to the back of your throat. You thank your ability to control your gag reflex and let yourself get used to the feeling; hollowing out your cheeks as he thrusts into your mouth.

“Shit, li-listen, I’m n-not going to beg Mr. Chon to let me back in class! I--what? So what if I’m with a girl-- I didn’t-- Prez, you’re being ridiculous!” He growls, pushing you away and kicking his pants completely off in anger. “You can’t just kick me off the team! I’m--”

You rise up from the floor, wiping the spit that dribbled down your chin. Warily, you watched Taeyong huff at his phone, ready to throw it to the ground but glances at you.

In a beat, he’s turning you around and pinning you against the back of an armchair; making quick work of your jeans and pushing them down your ankles with his foot once he got it past your knees.

“Did he threaten to kick you off the team?” You quietly ask, breathing rapidly as Taeyong cards his fingers through your pussy.

“He already has. He’s so abusive with his power! He was only elected president because he has connections to sponsors.” He grumbles behind you, “He also keeps reusing past choreo for new pieces! No one has the guts to call him out for it. I even made the fucking mistake of trying to befriend him because now I just get pushed around by him!”

You reach behind you to guide his cock into your pussy, “Let it out, Taeyong. If you’re really off the team, you’re not his lacke--”

You’re cut-off with a gasp as Taeyong surges forward, penetrating into you.

“I’m not his lackey!” He hisses, clawing your hips for support as he thrusts his hips repeatedly. “I’m the fucking vice president of the dance team!”

“What kind of president pushes around the VP like that then? Are you sure you were elected as vice president and not his lackey?”

“Stop calling me that!” He yells, snapping his hips harder into yours and eliciting a high shriek from you.

You bend over the armchair, grabbing at the pillows to anchor yourself against the force Taeyong was going at. You can feel your walls already accommodating his girth as they pushed in and out of you. Your lower abdomen tightens as your legs start to quiver in excitement; your orgasm is coming faster than you anticipated.

“T-Tae, I’m going to-- I’m really, really close--”

He grunts, moving you to the couch while still pounding into you. He only pulls you off of his dick to spin you around so you would be facing him and sits down, wasting no time as he hooks his fingers around your thighs to have you sit on his lap.

“You know,” He starts, guiding his cock back into your awaiting entrance, “That goddamn class is the reason why our president is so harsh on me. I was either going to practices late or leaving early to work on our stupid assignments.”

“Ugh, the root of all our problems is because of that goddamn class! It’s still unfair how we were transferred to Mr. Chon’s class.” You adjusted your legs so you could carry your weight as you begin to ride him.

“Don’t even mention that asshole! He keeps bragging about how he wrote scripts for indie films and how he was mentored by great, award-winning scriptwriters, but he never bothered actually teaching us shit.” He punctuates his complaint with a hard thrust upwards.

You moan out loud, dragging the sound until your head is situated on the crook of his neck. “Do that again.”

He obeys--multiple times; each with an insult towards your professor.

“Aah, I’m comi--!” Taeyong pulls you in for a kiss, drowning out your cries of pleasure as he holds your hips down for him to drive his cock into with a more calculated force.

You come with your toes curled and head thrown back in a silent cry while Taeyong thumbs furious circles over your clit and chases after his own high.

“In me, in me.” You chant, still shaking from your release.

Taeyong moans, “Shit, really?”

After confirming with a nod, he shoots his load into you; sensing immense warmth overcome your belly as you help him ride it out. When you take his cock out and proceed to sit back down on his lap, you can already feel it drip out of you.

“I can’t believe I got off for being so pissed.” Taeyong breathes, covering his eyes with his palm. “I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

“Not at all.” You clamber off of him, dropping your weight to the space beside him. “I liked it and I guess… sort of needed it, too.”

He turns his head towards you and snorts, “We deserved it after that hell of an elective. We’ll be weakshits to those who stayed, but whatever, yeah?”

“I value my sanity, thank you.” You laugh and he joins you. “The only thing good that came out of this was you.”

Taeyong’s lips twitched into a smile, “Yeah. We wouldn’t have met if not for that damned class. If we didn’t help each other out with Chon’s assignments…”

“We would have died way earlier.”

He chuckles, “Yeah, but, uhm, no, not just that… what I mean is that I wouldn’t have gotten to know you and,”

You blink at him, “And?”

“I can’t do this with my dick out, [Y/N]. Hold on.”

“Your dick is fine--it’s amazing, in fact.” You grab his shoulders when he tried to get up, “Taeyong, I like you.”

Taeyong bursts out laughing, “We’re really confessing in the nude?”

“Think of it this way: if you feel the same way, it’s so much easier to get down to business.” You cock a brow at him and he shrugs with puckered lips.

“Then, I like you, too.” He says, twisting his torso to face you and dragging his thumb across your lower lip, “So, round two?”

Snorting, you cup his face and pull him in for a kiss, “How about we exclude shitty profs and abusive friends?”

Taeyong hoists you up in his arms, carrying you so that either of your legs were secured over his hips. He starts to walk away from the couch, grinning at you as you squealed in surprise at his action, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

a/n: this feels so rushed because of my internet situation ;A;

#nct smut #taeyong smut #kinkmas2018

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yamadcs · 5 years

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wey hey, it’s a me...a madio here at long last!!! but rlly i’m mads, i’m twenty, and i’m in pst so im almost always fashionably late to things set with est time in mind. my last meal would be chicken alfredo but that feels really wrong bc i’d really love to own a chicken someday....anYWAYS moving on to the serious stuff! this intro is probably a shit show but so am i so it fits...i tried to keep it concise but who rlly knows idk pls plot with me

( NANA KOMATSU, CIS FEMALE, SHE/HER, MUSE M ) did i just see CONSTANCE YAMADA touching down in italy ? rumor has it this 22 year old DIRECTOR is on their way to reunite with the brat pack.

so first thing’s first, as promised, constance has two moms!!! one of them is an actress and the other is an activist (specifically feminist and lgbtq+ rights if that matters) and they’re both extremely well-known within hollywood.

her activist mom is definitely outspoken on social issues and she taught constance to be too, so the family is definitely known for pushing buttons in hollywood if only because they voice their very strong opinions VERY loudly. she probably had a lot to do with herself and her wife being ostracized in hollywood, or otherwise branded as brats. her actress mom, however, is much more soft spoken and was once probably an america’s sweetheart type. she’s a classic beauty, an actress that had so much potential until her reputation began to dwindle. she still acts, though in much smaller projects, and appears to be happy simply maintaining a home life (spoiler alert, she’s cheating). she taught constance humility and self-love

her mothers are so loving to her and to each other that she’s definitely a big romantic, however she’s also extremely naive so i’m sure that will pose a lot of issues in terms of plots and whatnot. she literally grew up witnessing true love at all times and is so in awe of her mothers’ relationship that she strives to have something just like it

sPEAKING OF NAIVETE! constance’s mothers actually shielded her from the spotlight until she was about 15!! her parents were really nervous about putting her in the limelight because they didnt want her to have a fate similar to theirs (the blacklisting and public humiliation of being branded) so they kept her life as private and “normal” as possible. rather than having a private tutor, she simply attended private schools so that she could have a semi-normal social life. her parents were very cautious about who she spent time with, which led her to be a bit sheltered. she had lots of friends, but she was never allowed to go to their houses and they needed extensive screening before being allowed at hers, so it was easier to just keep her friendships at school. it wasn’t until she got to high school and made the choice to insert herself into the media that the world truly met constance, and she’s been basking in the hollywood glow ever since

being lonely is actually part of what ignited her passion for film. she had so much free time at home during her early years that she stumbled upon a tub of old movies, as well as the video recorder that was used to capture them. from then on, she was in love and it seemed that no one could pry that camera from her grasp. years 5-10 of her life feature many clips of her moms’ double chins and feet, the angles of a girl too small to see the rest of the world.

i like to think that the first real paparazzi pictures ever captured of her and published across the nation featured her at a rally with her moms, holding a sign and very proudly leading a chant for the right for her mothers to legally marry. she’d been photographed before, of course, but none of them never made as bold of a statement and those pictures are what truly began her entrance into the spotlight, which was extremely intense and trying.

since the world was so desperate to know the daughter of two notorious starlets, it only made sense that they would do nearly anything to obtain that first private interview with her, those first talk show appearances, anything that she had never been able to do before. it was super overwhelming and she very quickly became aware of what vultures the press are

uhhh so yeah basically constance has only really been in the “spotlight” for the last 7 years, but she became very notorious and admired very quickly since her existence had been so “””normal”””” and basically mysterious to the public until then. like her moms posted pictures on their socials, but all of her own were private until then and the media only got to know her on a surface level so it was a drastic change both for herself, but also for the world

i’d like to think her friends, THE BRATS, are what really got her through it like once she started working in hollywood and getting more film projects and running into these ppl and building connections i think constance really would have relied on them as mentors (even if theyre rlly just manipulation her...plot idea ?) and just....ppl who understood what this type of fame was like and understood how crazy this transition was. like she went from eating cereal in the living room w her moms and living her lowkey life to being on magazines and becoming the new “GIRL NEXT DOOR” of hollywood and that’s....a lot

she is a pretty notorious director now like a lot of jobs were kind of just,, handed to her once she started but she proved she had real talent so her entire reputation is something she really built herself bc her moms tried to detach themselves from her career to give her a fair chance to prove herself and her own prestige but like,,, she literally loves filming people and directing them and it’s her whole ass life like she almost always has a film camera and/or an old video camera on her person at all times so watch out for that in the morning ladies and gents she will make u a star

oh and if her career goes south she’s hella gonna go into the adult film industry she’s directing sexy time baby !

i feel like there is still so so much i could tell u all about her but i rlly hope that this sums it up nicely bc it’s getting so long and so ugly....bUT BEFORE I LEAVE I HAVE CONNECTION IDEAS AND ALSO i just wanna say i think she would be on??? pretty okay terms w the bratpack like i know she has select ones she doesnt get along w but theres probably a big part of her thats excited to be back with them and happy to be in milan meeting up with them all again so idk if that changes things but yeah my girl’s naive and loves almost everyone so pls,,plot with mE

CONNECTION IDEAS....just gonna drop some lame ones here rlly quick to maybe get us started

uhh like i said many times, constance is rlly naive, so she’d be super easy to take advantage of. this could be something that happened when she first introduced herself to the limelight, like maybe someone latched on to her bc of how excited the media was to finally know her and they sort of road her coattails, or maybe it’s smth that’s happening as adults. im down for literally any kind of manipulative plots like fake friends, using her for shit, idk just mess her up ig

i think unrequited crushes are cute and i’m sure constance has TONS just bc she’s such a romantic at heart and so eager to have a fairy tale love that i feel like there would be this one person who she’s had a crush on for years who she just...keeps going back to bc she thinks she loves them and maybe they use her to keep her around or maybe theyve been honest about their feelings and theyre trying to just be friends but things are rocky/she’s just repressing shit idk we could do a lot with this i think

i’d love it if she could just have a best friend bc like...idk i dont want her to have NO real friends u know? good vibes only for constance and ur muse man u feel

she was pretty innocent growing up since she was so sheltered so maybe ur muse smoked her out for the first time when she was 16 and now shes 420 friendly and theyre just smoke buddies or smth i cant believe shes gonna be a stoner now her whole personality i talked about up there? gone. it’s weed central now baby !

does ur muse need a tastefully directed sex tape? constance has their back im not kidding this is my plot idea ur all welcome

this is a novel so im ending it here but i will once again beg that u all come plot with me and love me and disregard these shitty connection ideas bc i KNOW we can come up with truly good ones okay love u all bye

#my gif resources are a little scarce rn so pls bare with me until i make my own #bratsintro #oh i talked about weed in this a little so possible drug tw love u guys <3

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anotheruserwithnoname · 5 years

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Thoughts on Mary Poppins Returns

I’ve fallen behind on my current-movie viewing due to a number of factors (the only cinema screenings I’ve been to in the last 6 months in fact have been Aquaman at Christmas and twice to see Alita Battle Angel a few weeks ago), but I’m getting caught up as the blu-rays come out. I saw Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse last night and will comment about it later (the tl;dr - good movie, a treasure trove for fans of pop culture, but looks awful on Blu-ray due to the textures used and I still think Incredibles 2 was more deserving of the Best Animated Feature Oscar), but since I actually invoked Mary Poppins Returns in a post I did about Alita yesterday, I thought I’d give some thoughts on this one first.

A spoiler/length break first as I get a bit wordy. I also do touch on some mild spoilers.

The Good

* Emily Blunt. Being unfamiliar with her other musical work, I was not prepared for how good a singer she is. Whether she stacks up to Julie Andrews is in the ear of the beholder, but I thought she was great. She wisely didn’t base her Mary on Julie, in the process giving us a slightly more cynical, world-weary Mary appropriate for someone with a quarter century more life experiences and adventures. I heard some reviewers call her a sexier Mary than Julie’s. I say nonsense to that - they’re equal (the only difference being Emily having a bit more innuendo in one of her songs, which I’ll mention later). One other comment is that when she played Mary, Julie Andrews was not an experienced film actress with only a few TV and film credits prior to Poppins - she was more a stage actress (her lack of screen experience was one of the reasons why Audrey Hepburn got the role of Eliza Doolittle for the My Fair Lady movie instead of Julie); Emily, by contrast, has been making movies and TV shows since 2003, so she has a level of screen-confidence that adds contrast to her performance.

* Lin-Manuel Miranda. Not being overly interested in Hamilton, Miranda has never been on my radar, so I came into this with a clear slate. He is a terrific addition to the film, he commands the screen (even stealing a couple of scenes from Emily, much as Dick van Dyke did from Julie), and director Rob Marshall wisely gives him a couple of Broadway show-like sequences and lets him go wild. This wasn’t his first film role - he has a number of movie and TV credits - but this is his first lead in a major film, and it won’t be his last.

* The kids. The three child actors chosen come off like 25 year olds who have been transplanted into pre-teen brains. Amazing. If they ever decide to remake Harry Potter, they could do worse than consider these three.

* Nackvid Keyd. Although this person’s cameo was I think intended to be a surprise, the trailers and other promotions give it away. Nonetheless, I’m going to keep it spoiler-free for those who haven’t seen it, by using the actor’s pseudonym here. He’s only on screen for about 3 minutes but it’s an amazing 180 seconds - and to both his and the director’s credit, "Mr. Keyd” actually doesn’t upstage the current cast. And his inclusion - as well as a cameo by another veteran of the original film - shows respect to the original film.

* Angela Lansbury. Her cameo (which I don’t think was intended to be quite the same level of surprise as Mr. Keyd’s) was amazing. This was a woman who made her screen debut in the 1944 Ingrid Bergman film Gaslight. Here, she plays a character equivalent to the first movie’s bird woman (though a little more sprightly). It’s widely believed this part was originally meant to be played by Julie Andrews, but Julie, to her credit, reportedly felt appearing in the film would take away from Emily Blunt (similar to how an alleged plan to have Sean Connery appear in Daniel Craig’s Bond film Skyfall as the groundskeeper was wisely dropped in favour of bringing Albert Finney in for the role. Soon as Sean appeared on screen, Daniel would have been done).

* Replicating the look of the original film. There are some scenes where this doesn’t apply, in particular the use of actual locations in London (the original film was all shot on soundstages in Hollywood), but the attention to detail in replicating iconic locations like Cherry Tree Lane, the Banks’ home, etc., is amazing, even allowing for it not being 100% the same - which is understandable since, after 25 years, you would expect a room to get a fresh coat of paint. There’s a touching featurette on the Blu-ray where “Nackvid Keyd” visits the Cherry Tree Lane set and is amazed at the detail.

The meh...

1. The music. Despite my praise for the cast, I was less impressed by the music (even though I bought the CD). Granted, the original score has had more than 50 years to become iconic, and there are a few songs here that could rise to the same level in a half-century. But, at least for me, they never delivered another “Feed the Birds” or “Chim Chim Cheree”. In fact, some of the songs felt almost like pastiches of the Sherman Brother’s originals. The closest to something that felt brand-new was a rap-like song performed by Miranda during the animated sequence, “Cover is Not the Book” (it actually works, while actually referencing something similar that Dick Van Dyke did in the original.)

The not so good

1. They call it a sequel, but, really, it’s more a remake. I’m not alone in noting that the film duplicates the original almost beat for beat. The order of events is similar, the types of songs are similar. Some of the songs sound similar to the earlier versions, even. Instead of acrobatic chimney sweeps, we have acrobatic leeries who go around lighting street lamps. Instead of Uncle Albert who floats when he laughs, we have Aunt Topsy who, for whatever reason, has a condition where her entire world turns upside down once every two weeks. George Banks becomes dejected over apparently losing his job at the bank; Michael Banks becomes dejected over apparently losing his house due to the bank - and both have epiphanies thanks to someone singing them songs. Both films have big production numbers set in animated alternate universes and another involving airbourne objects in the park. Etc. The only really original thing here plotwise is while the original film actually had no villain (George Banks comes the closest to being an antagonist, but even then he barely qualifies), here there is an actual clearly defined villain, as well as a scene or two of actual jeopardy which we never saw in the original. More on this momentarily.

2. The tone is all over the place ... and too much of it is kinda depressing. We know a film set in the height of the Great Depression isn’t going to be all goodness and light, and the ironic tone of the opening number, “Underneath the Lovely London Sky” sets that out clearly (and quite effectively - it’s one of the best scenes in the film). When Mary arrives, Jane and Michael assume she’s out of work and destitute so they take her in out of kindness. And the whole film revolves around Michael possibly losing his family home. Yet ... I thought too much of it was downright sad. Ben Whishaw - another actor I had no idea could sing - gives an amazing performance of “A Conversation” in which Michael talks to his dead wife. But as that description suggests, this isn’t “I Love to Laugh Redux”. In fact it’s such a sad sequence that it takes you right out of the film - which is a bad thing considering the song is performed only about 10 minutes in. They might have been better off saving it for later.

3. There are also aspects of the film that I think violate the spirit of the original Mary Poppins - and possibly PL Travers’ books too. The “Cover is Not the Book” sequence, which is great and probably the closest to a truly memorable original song (I’d have chosen it for the Oscar nomination over “Place Where the Lost Things Go” which was an attempt at replicating “Feed the Birds”), contains some off-colour jokes delivered by both Mary and Jack that really felt out of place. I’m not being prudish on this, and the off-colour bit is mild, but this being Mary Poppins it was still jarring. And a chase sequence, although well done and exciting - and for fans of the original film providing a dark bookend to 1964′s steeplechase sequence - likewise felt like it belonged in another movie. It was almost as if Disney - in a stark contrast to the days when the reverse was true - refused to release a G-rated movie so they had to add a few bits to get the PG. Sort of like how an F-bomb will sometimes pop up in scripts to ensure a movie gets bumped from PG to PG-13 (which famously allows for one F-word before triggering an R rating). Because no one is possibly interested in watching a G-rated movie in the late 2010s, apparently.

So, I guess, I am rather critical of Mary Poppins Returns. I feel not enough was made of the opportunity to create something new, rather than a rehash of the original.

But - don’t get me wrong, it is still a quality film and I’m glad I have the Blu-ray. The cast does a fantastic job, the music isn’t bad (I just felt they didn’t come up with anything as instantly iconic as the songs back in 1964), and once you get past some of the depressing bits it’s a fun film. So I’d still give it a solid 7 out of 10 and I do recommend it. Just maybe don’t watch it right after the original.

#mary poppins returns #armchair movie criticism

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disembowel-me · 5 years

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Baal & Slith ft abuse, dubcon(?), extreme gaslighting/brainwashing, recording, and death

“You know Ren, in my old life I wanted to be a director.”

Renoe didn't care about Baal’s career ambitions, but it seemed humoring him was the only way he was going to get information about Slit.

Baal grinned, setting up a tape. “Being so concerned about my brother, I mostly stuck to photography as a hobby. Clearly, it didn't work out. But, that doesn't mean I haven't totally forgotten about it.” Baal snapped his fingers, summoning the illusion of a chair and sat down. “I made a… ah, experimental film? And I’d like to show it to you.”

Renoe scowled. “Get to the point.”

Baal laughed. “Come on, Ren, have a seat. I think you'll want to see this.”

Begrudgingly, Renoe pulled a dining chair out and sat. The two men exchanged glances, and Baal pressed play:

Slit sits in the middle of a white room.

He is naked, showing off his every rib under skin stretched thin. His skin is no longer a healthy flush pink, but a pale, pallid sallow, and impossibly dark circles line the under of his eyes. His hair has grown long past his shoulders, frizzy and brittle looking.

Vast amount of scars cover his body - thick, sloppy keloids running along his thighs, up his forearms, along the curve of his breast; slabs of skin missing from his stomach and chest, burns of all sizes scattered between. Dark mottled bruises run up his upper thighs into his groin, torso, and ribs.

“Slith,” Baal’s voice comes from behind the camera. “Smile for me.”

I turn my tired eyes toward him and give a weak smile. He’s smiling too, adjusting something on his camera. I don’t know what the camera is for. It’s making me a little nervous, but… I trust him.

“Today is special. Do you know why?”

I shake my heavy head. Every day Baal comes to see me is special. Why would today be any different?

“It's your anniversary…” He continues. “You've come so far.”

My voice, so hardly used above anything but a whisper, is frail and cracks. “...How long?”

“Six months!”

I glance around this plain white room, fluorescent lights beating down on me just as they had the first day I came here. I try to not think about the past… it's all so hazy. But still, has it really been my home six months?

“Why are you… recording?”

“You remember Renoe, don’t you?” Baal’s voice was soft.

My blood chills. Hazy memories of that man hurting me fill my head. For the life of me I cannot remember specific things, but I know he did terrible things. I can’t believe I ever trusted him. They both, admittedly, were controlling, but at least Baal made sure I was always comfortable. And if he did hurt me… it was a good reason. You have to purge the sins with fire. These scars are reminders of what I’ve overcome and what not to repeat.

Renoe… he made me suffer for no reason. Even before the torture, he needlessly hurt me. He’s a cold-blooded killer. I was an idiot to ever trust him. At least I learned I can’t be trusted to make my own choices.

Baal will keep me safe from everything. From Renoe, from the world. Even from my own bad judgment.

“Don’t worry, I'll never let him touch you again,” Baal reassures me, “I just want to show him how happy you are with me.”

I watch him wearily, not saying anything else. I don't really care. I just want Baal to come and give me attention.

Baal finishes fiddling with the camera and comes to sit with me. My heart surges - finally! He situates himself behind me and places his hands my shoulders. Ecstasy fills me, radiating from the warmth of his fingertips into my core, and I melt into his touch right away, eyes rolling back. I lean into his lap, pressing myself against him as hard I can in hopes that maybe, this time, he’ll never let go. His breath is hot on my ear and his hands wander, touching me everywhere. My muscles twitch under my skin as my body becomes hot, so hot, and an itch grows between my thighs. I’m going lightheaded. My head rolls back against Baal’s shoulder, grabbing handfuls of his shirt.

He kisses me, laying my back against the concrete floor, and lifts my legs by the ankle, exposing me to the camera. I fidget my fingers over the concrete at my side and wince in a mix of pain and pleasure when Baal enters me. The bruises on my thighs burn hotly. Another wave of ecstasy flows over me, blurring in and out with the sensation where our bodies meet. He keeps touching me, fucking me, making me feel good, and I am so happy to be here with my savior.

“Ba-aal,” I whine, tears in the corner of my eyes. “Tha-ank you…” I hook my legs together around Baal’s hips and lift myself against him. Burying my hands in his hair - This pain - feels so nice - I think our bodies are melting together. I’m so happy. I want to be a part of him forever.

My affection. My savior. My entire world. I live and breath for him. He saved me. He knows what is best for me.

He flips me onto my elbows and knees, and rapture so powerful fills me that my limbs give out beneath me and my vision blurs. Above me, Baal keeps moving and my mind goes blank.

Baal holds Slit’s chin up, giving a clear view of his intoxication. The position of his hand keeps Slit’s mouth open, allowing every whine and moan and cry freely out.

His shame, his dignity, his very identity has been erased. The modest, shy boy who blushed at a slight touch or implication is long gone; what is left of him sweats and drools and makes lewd, undignified sounds; he shudders and shivers and writhes under Baal, who keeps going until Slit is sobbing from over-stimulation.

Baal lets go of the boy’s hips, letting him fall, and comes on the floor. Leisurely, he stands and takes Slit’s chin to direct his gaze toward the mess on the floor.

Eyelids drooping and a labored breath shaking his flush, frail body, Slit drags himself to the mess and, pressing his cheek to the concrete, flicks out his tongue to lick it up. When he finishes, he pulls himself to Baal’s feet, laying his forehead on his boots.

“Th-thank you,” he breathes. “My lord, my- my savior... I lo-love you. I love… you.” He repeats himself feverishly, snaking his way up Baal’s leg, stuttering out praises. “You-” a sob escapes his lips, “-You’re so good to me.”

Standing above him, Baal shoots a smug glance at the camera and reaches down to pet Slit’s hair. “Do you love me, Slith?”

He pushes his head up into Baal’s hand. “I love you.”

“Would you do anything for me?”

“A-anything.” His voice is full of fervent obedience.

Baal kneels down behind Slit to wrap his arms around his shoulders and places something in his hand. “Show Renoe how much you love me. Show him how much I mean to you.”

Slit stares wide-eyed for a moment. Slowly, hands shaking, he lifts it and allows the camera to see Baal’s dagger, a blade that had gotten to know Slit’s skin intimately even before he disappeared. He raises it to his chest, eyes trained on Baal, who gives him a nod of encouragement. Bringing the blade down on his right breast, he begins carving a line down. Immediately, his face tightens, tears rolling down his cheeks as the letters B-A-A-L slowly appeared in red, blocky and dripping. On the last letter, L, his hand hitches, driving the blade through his nipple. The blade clatters to the ground as Slit screams, holding his chest.

“Baal… I… I did it…” he chokes out.

Baal leans in, firmly taking Slit’s wrists and pulling his arms apart. “Let me see…”

“It h-hurts,” he sobs, chest heaving.

“Revel in the pain, Slith,” Baal coos. “That’s the proof of your devotion, remember?”

He nods pathetically but smiles through his tears.

“Good boy.” Baal strokes Slit’s head. “Really, you're doing such a good job.”

Slit chokes out a sob, smiling even more at the praise.

Baal brushes a strand of hair behind Slit’s ear. “You know it's almost time.”

Slit nuzzles against the hand for a moment, holding it close with his own, but then freezes. “Wait- I-I’m not ready. I don't want to leave yet.”

Baal’s voice grows cold. “That’s not your decision.”

Slit’s eyes shift erratically. “Please-”

“I made you.” Baal stands suddenly. “And I can destroy you. You belong to me. Did you really forget already? ”

Slit pales. “I-I-” His voice cracked. He swiftly puts his head to Baal's feet again. “Pl-please forgive m-me… I-I-I, I love you, I just want to stay with you-”

Baal yanks me up by my hair. I gasp but don’t fight back. I ache to apologize more, I really do, but I don’t want to make him even more upset. I’ve already far overstepped my boundaries.

“This is what I’m talking about. Do you really still not trust me?” His violet eyes pierce right through me and I squirm. Something about them prevents me from looking away. I really don’t want to answer, but I think he’s going to force me to… Something in my stomach churns.

“Is this still too much freedom for you to handle? Do I need to relieve you of even more burdens?” He looks genuinely hurt, like always, but some intonation in his voice makes me uncomfortable. My stomach feels even worse now.

I don’t even know what else he could take from me. He controls my everything.

The sickness increases suddenly. Excessive saliva fills my mouth, bile rises in my throat, and he still hasn’t let go of my hair. “Ba-” I try to warn him, but regurgitation bites the back of my tongue and I’m afraid if I try any more I’ll puke on him. Blood drips to the floor and my chest aches, and a chill runs through my body as I remember he’s still recording this. Why is he recording this? Just to show it to Renoe? I feel even sicker at the thought. Renoe can’t see me like this…!

Baal finally let's go, and I hang my head low. “Cat got your tongue, hm? Or… is it that you want me to decide for you?”

I can't hold it back anymore. I shudder and vomit on the floor, my hands, Baal’s boots. It burns, and I cry. I hear Baal sigh, and he crouches down with a napkin to wipe my face with. Did he...plan this?

“Are you really showing this to Renoe?” I ask quietly.

“Why, love?”

“I…” Tears blur my vision. “I can’t let him see me this way.” I feel ashamed. It's not from being covered in vomit. This has happened before. Why do I feel so ashamed?

A hand takes a firm grip on my jaw and forces me to look back into those violet eyes. I really think he can see everything about me with them.

“But you're happy, aren't you? Being here with me?”

“...Es.” I barely squeak out the answer.

Maybe the vomit was symbolic because my head feels so much clearer now.

“What was that?” He asks softly.

Maybe Baal was trying to teach me one last lesson…?

“Yes… I’m happy here.”

I really am.

“Then that's all that matters.” He smiles. And his hand lowers to my neck.

But I don't want to leave.

His other hand clamps down around my throat, and I find I can no longer breathe.

I relinquished control long ago, but I so desperately want to stay here forever with him.

Panic sets in as the burning pressure builds in my lungs.

His face is so calm above me. Not calculated like Renoe, but serene. “You’re so beautiful, Slith…”

My heart swells- though maybe it's just oxygen deprivation.

My savior thinks I’m beautiful…

I’m so glad I get to die by his hand.

He doesn't struggle. He simply smiles up at Baal, a smile of resignation and gratitude, until even that is impossible, and his face goes slack.

Baal keeps hold on Slit’s neck long after he turns blue, his eyes roll back, and stops moving. Not until he is certainly dead does Baal let go.

He stands up and looks down at Slit’s body for a moment. Then he brushes himself off, gives a slight, malicious smirk at the camera, and the video cuts out.

#more old stuff since im in a slump #My writing #slith #baal

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winetae · 6 years

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⇾ money shot (m)

↳ in a pornographic movie, refers to the sequence in which the male actor ejaculates onto his partner’s body.

⇁ female reader x yoongi

⇁ smut || pornstar!au

⇁ dom!yoongi, submissive!reader, verbal humiliation, spanking, roleplay, rough sex, cum play, dirty talk, this is porn ok and everything is consensual

⇁10.9k pwp

. . .

“Don’t look so put off. Min Yoongi’s indisputably one of the best in the industry. He’s extremely professional and experienced—and handsome to boot. You’ll be in the very best hands. He rarely works with newbies, so consider yourself special.”

↳ or ; the author just really wanted to write a pornstar!au but got carried away;;

a/n; in no way is this story meant to depict the real life working conditions of adult film stars. contains inaccuracies ! + i couldn’t have written The smut scene w/o my #1 perv ilu

(!!) pls re-read the warnings !! may contain triggering content. roleplay includes portrayal of a not so ethical or appropriate relationship (teacher/student) and the verbal humiliation makes use of degrading names/slut shaming, so please don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable !!

(!!) if your name is mj stay away from this fic !! also if ur jordan’s sister stop reading smut khkjh

In front of you, a manila folder was slammed down onto the table's wooden surface, the sudden movement making your cup of coffee wobble dangerously. You cupped the drink between your cold hands, intent on not letting a drop of your 5.79 dollar purchase go to waste. Only once the liquid had stopped sloshing around did you bother to greet your agent with a cordial nod.

Dressed in an all black, pressed suit and with his hair combed back, he seemed ready to head off into a business meeting, not discuss your next adult film project over a cup of coffee. Choosing to skip over the small talk, he leaned forward on his elbows and waited for you to take the folder and peer into its contents.

You spared it a cursory glance, not expecting much from its uninteresting appearance. Still, you decided to humor him—after all, Seokjin wouldn’t have called you out to meet in person if it wasn’t urgent. Unless legal paperwork was involved, your usual means of communication with the self-proclaimed Important Man was limited to phone calls and e-mails.

“Your first big movie,” was what he said in lieu of greeting, a proud smile pulling at his lips. You relaxed somewhat. He looked visibly pleased with himself which could only mean good news for you. “Now, no need to thank me...but I did pull a few strings to land you this job.”

“Uh-oh.” You stared hard at him, trying to detect the underlying message behind his words. Knowing him, ‘pulling a few strings’ could mean anything from calling in a favor to giving the director a blowjob in the back of his car between shoots. He was that kind of agent.

Seokjin shrugged, choosing not to put your worries to rest. “I know the casting director well—we were in the same frat. We catch up from time to time and when he mentioned he was looking for a fresh face, I immediately recommended you. They reviewed your portfolio and really liked those test shots we took of you two weeks ago.”

Your mind drifted back to the two hour long photoshoot that had taken place in Seokjin’s friend’s villa. Judging by the way the place was decked out to look like a pimp crib, you were half convinced that it was owned by a seedy nightclub owner or something of the sort. You were probably not too far off from the truth but all talks of shady property owners aside, the house served as a spacious and luxurious backdrop for your swimwear shoot. The concept of the day was ‘slutty trophy wife’. No added photo filters or retouching had been needed to make your skin look perfectly slick and shiny; your body had been waxed smooth and slicked down with baby oil—your tiny bikini basically just an accessory.

At the time, you had grumbled and complained about the set-up, cursing the burnt-red color that had appeared on your skin after posing provocatively by the poolside in the blistering heat. Your skin had needed a week to recover from all of the consequent peeling and redness and you had been obliged to cancel some of your schedules. Some things just couldn’t be fixed with makeup... And no one would pay money to see a girl with a bright red, flaky nose giving head. But all of that trouble had been well worth it if the finished pictures had gotten you such a coveted job in the end.

He gestured to the file in your hands, “You’ll be working with Min Yoongi.”

“Eh? Min Yoongi?”

Certain you had misunderstood, there was no use concealing your incredulity. Min Yoongi’s name held so much power on its own—the mere mention of it was enough to have you straighten your back. Surely this had to be a joke of some kind, right? The entire thing was just so absurd; it felt too good to be true. Frankly speaking, Yoongi was way out of your league. You hadn’t even been in the industry for very long...yet someone deemed you fit enough to work with a big gun?

You eyed the corners of the quaint coffee shop with suspicion. You tried to spot any hidden cameras, fully expecting a crew from MTV to bust out from the shadows at any moment and unveil the prank.

Seokjin let out a sigh, disappointed by your lack of enthusiasm. “Don’t look so put off. This time, you—or rather I—struck gold. Min Yoongi’s indisputably one of the best in the industry. He’s extremely professional and experienced—and handsome to boot. You’ll be in the very best hands. He rarely works with newbies, so consider yourself special.”

“I’m not put off,” you were quick to defend. “I’m just... I’m having a hard time believing any of this is real right now. Can you blame me?”

“Well believe it. Why do you look so surprised? There’s a reason people would open their wallets to see you on film. You’re very photogenic, you look great on film. Lots of people have hot bodies and pretty faces, but not many give off the same energy as you.”

You watched him plop in a third cube of sugar into his black coffee, not thinking much of his compliments. The thing about Seokjin was that he knew exactly what to say—the well-timed flattery basically second nature to him. At first, you couldn’t help but be charmed, however you soon came to realize that you were just one of the many people his sweet-talk had an effect on. Seokjin had absolutely no qualms using the same lines and buttery tone with anyone he met, and after seeing the way he operated, everything about him seemed too rehearsed and contrived to be genuine.

Seokjin waited until all the sweetness had dissolved into his drink before continuing, “You know that we always advise against filming anal and DP scenes right away for a reason. It's hard to make a living off of porn because people naturally tend to lose interest once they’ve seen everything you have to offer. Over time, talents tend to lose their shine. Being in the industry changes you. Doesn’t matter if they’re the best actor out there, the dead fish eyes will always give them away... It’s like they’re not really present during the scene, you know what I mean? If the performer is bored, so is their audience. If the audience is bored, no one will be willing to hire them anymore.”

“Well isn’t that lovely,” you intoned drily, silently contemplating your own fate. How long would it take before you eventually became that jaded? What a bleak future to look forward to.

“I’m just being honest,” he raised his shoulders, his ever-present smile dimming a little. “It’s better to be honest about this. I don’t have any time to be spewing any inspirational bullshit. And you shouldn’t listen to anyone who tries to feed you that crap, either. You should always know what you’re signing up for.”

You supposed there was some merit to his words. Even if he was heavy-handed with his praises, he had never painted you an idyllic picture of the adult film industry. Before signing the contract with your agency, they had made sure that you had known exactly what you were putting on the line, what you were risking. You had never ventured into this world with false hopes; they had made it quite clear that if you didn’t make it big within the first few years, it would be hard to find your footing in an industry that was constantly on the lookout for new talents. Considering how the average span of a porn star’s career was less than three years, you understood the pressure to cement your name before your time was up. Building a solid fanbase was crucial if you wanted to survive as a porn star.

With this thought weighing on your conscious, you regretted not showing more gratitude to your agent... Without him, you probably would still be filming low quality videos that you tried to pass off as artsy. Seokjin had been a huge help in launching your career. He was basically fetching you deals left and right that no rookie without connections could ever get. In the past, you had been eager to seize these chances before they slipped away.

This time, however, you couldn’t shake off the mix of feelings that churned in the pit of your stomach as your eyes skimmed over Min Yoongi’s long list of impressive credentials and accolades. On the one hand, you were excited about being granted this huge opportunity right off the bat because being partnered with a renowned porn star meant that you got to ride off his fame. It meant getting more exposure, which was something you certainly wouldn’t refuse. (Only a fool would turn this offer down!)

On paper, it wasn’t that all different from any of your previous jobs—show up, get your makeup done, take your clothes off, get fucked, maybe fake an orgasm or two. Yet, for some ridiculous reason, you couldn’t help but feel strangely inadequate for the job. Nervousness crept up your spine the longer you let your gaze sweep over his lengthy résumé. Shooting with someone with this kind of reputation also meant that if you fucked up, everyone else would know about it the next day. The industry was a lot smaller than it appeared to be from the outside. One mishap could have you spending the rest of your career trying to erase the label you had inadvertently earned on set.

It wasn’t that you lacked confidence in your skills. You gave a mean blowjob and your pussy was nice to look at. Because your body was your bread and butter, you dieted and worked out daily in order to ensure you stayed in the best shape. Maybe it was vain of you to proclaim, but you looked good on camera, especially with your clothes off. And it wasn’t like you lacked any experience, either. You had filmed your fair share of pornography, so you knew you were able to keep the public interested, if the rising views during the weekly cam sessions were any indication of your popularity. But the stakes wouldn’t be the same this time and that was what scared you.

Perhaps Seokjin sensed your distress because he offered you an encouraging smile, his whitened teeth on display. “You’ll do great. If I didn’t think you would make it big, I wouldn’t waste my time on you. I always put my eggs in the right basket so I’m confident that this will go well. This isn’t going to be some seedy shoot filmed on a three hundred dollar budget. They’re pulling out all the stops for this one... The director is hoping this will win him another AVN award this year but we’ll see. Don’t mention it if you see him, by the way. He’s a bit sensitive and it’s best not to step on his toes too much.”

All you could do was nod, distracted by other, more worrying thoughts. Were you ready to actually go through with this? Would you be able to do a good job? What if you somehow messed up? You stopped yourself from continuing this line of thought. That would be counter-productive. It really wasn’t like you to doubt yourself this much but the minute your agent had dropped Min Yoongi’s name, you had been putting everything into question.

Seokjin held your gaze, his eyebrow raised expectantly as he waited for your inner ramblings to cease.

“Now, if you could just review the terms of the contract before signing and we’ll be all set.”

You stared at the dotted line, pen in hand. Seokjin hadn’t hired a fool. It didn’t take very long to finish signing all the legal paperwork.

Despite your initial fretting, you were excited to finally be part of something so big. The production cost for this movie was noticeably more significant than any of your past works put together. That meant better filming equipment, better filming locations, better actors. The more you thought about it, the more convinced you were that this would be your breakthrough role. This movie could potentially change your life and help you make a name for yourself.

It became all the more apparent that your key to success would be working with Min Yoongi.

Before this, you had only heard about him in passing—his name one you had overheard whispered by the gossiping hair and makeup staff, one that you saw plastered on the covers of glossy magazines and online news articles. You had seen printouts of his face on the front of a handful of film posters that lined up the walls of your agency’s building. He was someone you knew of, someone you knew about, but you had never experienced this burning curiosity to know about him before today.

With so much at stake, you decided to do your homework. You did your research, watching his interviews on YouTube and searching his name up on various web portals. Through the pieces of information you had gathered by watching his interviews, he seemed like a calm, collected man—completely different from the image you initially had of him. His cockiness wasn’t showcased through self-praises and obvious boasting; but rather by the way he coolly and confidently answered the blunt questions hurled at him from prejudiced interviewers. Never had he flinched or faltered; never had he let anyone intimidate him with twisted questions intended to cause controversy.

It was his cold, no-nonsense kind of behavior which led you to wonder: what sort of person was he like to work with? Without the firsthand experience, the only way you could find out was by personally purchasing a movie he starred in. Which you did—for research purposes only, of course. There was no shame in wondering what your partner looked like in action or how he worked once the camera started rolling, right?

Watching his movie meant that you were taking your job seriously, you reasoned Seokjin had assured you over and over again that you would be in good hands, but what weight did his words have when he wasn’t the one getting spanked in front of a filming crew? You just wanted to know what sex with this man would be like. What was it exactly that you had to look forward to?

You set up your laptop and made sure everything was plugged in properly (the last thing you wanted was for your computer screen to black out during the good bits). Pillows propped behind you, you wriggled around beneath your fleece blanket until you found a comfortable position.

The movie you had picked out was supposed to be on the tamer side of his porn filmography. You had selected it in the hope that it would ease you into things. It was a typical let's-fuck-the-babysitter scenario so you didn't really expect much. Scenarios like these were predictable because they had been done so many times before. How much would you be willing to bet that it followed the cunnilingus+sex on the couch+blowjob formula? But with how popular he was, you didn’t really know what to expect anymore... What made him so different from the rest? A part of you was worried he had a monster dick or something equally impossible to recover from. Guys with huge dicks always made it difficult to keep up your filming schedule and a good fuck was never worth that setback.

Laptop nestled in your lap, you pressed play. The screen of your laptop lit up, signaling the start of the movie, and you held your breath as you finally got to see what all the fuss was about.

The first thing you were immediately struck by was how incredibly handsome he was. Even though his female partner was no less attractive, your eyes couldn’t help but stay glued on him. You could tell just by the way he carried himself and the way he spoke that he was very confident and self-assured. He never looked away from his partner, his lids heavy and eyes dark with the promise of more to come. You couldn't look away; his simple presence demanded you pay him attention.

The more you watched, the more you understood why people when wild for him; his charisma coupled with his experience had evidently made his career long-lasting and successful. Surprisingly, any line he delivered sounded convincing. He made a cheesy, over-the-top porn script sound hot. How the hell? You put the volume up, your earphones picking up the slightest noise—every rustle of the sheets, every sigh of pleasure from the girl, and every slick and obscene noise coming from her pussy as Yoongi thrust into her were loud enough for you to believe you were there as it happened.

You weren’t exactly sure when, but your eyes had fallen closed somewhere along the way. The audio in your ears helped fuel the lewd scenarios you conjured up in your mind; it wasn’t hard to imagine yourself in the place of his female counterpart, Yoongi working his hips against yours, his heavy breathing tickling your ears as you moaned out his name. Sliding your hand beneath the waistband of your panties, you were barely surprised to find yourself already damp with arousal. You carefully circled a finger around your entrance, coating the digit with your fluids until it was lubricated enough to slip in.

Quickly, you built up a steady rhythm. Your finger tried to mimic the pace he had set—each thrust inside your wet pussy a weak imitation of what his hardened length would feel like inside of you. One finger wasn't nearly enough to satisfy the growing need that pulsed between your legs. You eased in a second digit next to the first, feeling your walls stretch to accommodate the newest intrusion. Breathing out a sigh, you kicked your head back as you worked yourself to a frenzy, letting the loud sounds flowing through your earbuds lull you into a trance.

“Such a good pussy.” The wet, squelching noises almost drowned out his groan of appreciation. You mewled in response and spread your legs wider as if to urge him deeper, but it was no use. Your fingers couldn’t bring you the same satisfaction that his thick cock would. Squeezing in a third finger, you tried to imagine him working his hips against yours, his lean body sticky with sweat as he filled you up to the brim with every thrust. “Hear that? You take my cock so well, baby.”

"So fucking—tight." He growled out, the primal sound loud in your ears. Lust coursed through your veins and you could feel it burn, melting away any of your inhibitions. Sucked deep in your fantasy, you could vividly picture his pink lips curling into a smirk as he watched you slowly start to unravel before him.

Tears stung your eyes. You arched your back, hips rutting against your hand, as you tried to alleviate the burning ache within you. Your fingers twisted around, rubbing your walls, searching for that sensitive spot inside of you. But your efforts were futile—from the angle you were sitting in, your fingers couldn’t quite reach it, no matter how much you tried. Forehead shiny with perspiration, you keened in frustration, too wound up to continue. You wanted to cum so badly that it hurt. Desperately horny, you changed your course action, circling at your swollen clit instead with renewed determination.

The first slide against your nub was electrifying and your entire body shuddered, overcome with pleasure. The obscene sounds from the video blended in with your own soundtrack. Breathless and dizzy with want, you failed to register that the moans spilling from your mouth were echoes of Yoongi’s name. Your pleas for release grew louder as the fire inside your lower belly erupted into an inferno.

"I can feel you around me, fuck, you gonna cum soon, baby? Yeah? Gonna cum all over my cock?" Yoongi whispered harshly into the crook of your ear, his heavy breathing sending shivers down your back. “Fucking cum.”

His name on your lips, you threw your head back as the band inside you snapped, your body his to command. Trembling all over from the force of your orgasm, you clenched your eyes closed as you tried to prolong your trance. If you imagined hard enough, you could feel his hot breath fan your skin, his fingers bruise your hips as he kept you still.

Yoongi’s voice echoed inside of your head long after the aftershocks of your orgasm had waned, haunting and promising all at once.

It took another useless glance at the clock to confirm that you were early. You were filming the second sex scene today. The first scene had been filmed already and you hadn’t run into any complications. Your male co-star’s dirty talk could have been better, but his handsome face and skilled tongue had made up for it. You could still remember the delicious stretch of his long fingers inside of you, and how his deep baritone voice growled in your ear as he fucked you pressed up against a window. Off camera, he had been nice and easy-going, cracking the occasional joke between takes.

With how great things had turned out yesterday, you were anticipating today’s scene almost as much as your character was. Today you were filming the scene with Min Yoongi—the grand finale, the climax of all climaxes. The Big Nut. Makeup and hair done, you had already filmed your intro video and were now killing time before the actual shoot began.

Better early than late, you tried to console yourself. Waiting around like this made you jittery; the amount of caffeine pumping through your veins filled you with a burst of energy you found hard to keep under control. It wasn’t even noon and your daily dose of coffee had already been exceeded. You bounced your leg up and down, the constant fidgeting giving away how nervous you really were.

You tried to distract yourself by reading over the film script, ignoring how your fingers trembled slightly like a chronic smoker who hadn’t gotten their fix.

The movie was scheduled to run for one hour or so, with two sex scenes filmed in two different locations with different actors. The scenario was your cliché go-to porn plot in which you would be playing the role of a naughty student who gets caught fucking someone after school hours by her teacher. Punishment ensues. You fuck your feelings out. The end.

Well, that was definitely something you could handle, you thought to yourself as you leafed through the script. Although there had been more lines to memorize than you were used to, you had confidently assured your agent that you would be able to do it. You were glad that your two years hanging out in the theater club back in high school wouldn’t be for nothing... It was a shame that you could only showcase your acting skills in a porn movie because you knew a lot of people would skip over the plot and jump straight to the filth. During the last few days, the mediocre porn dialogue had become your bible, your bedside book that you read religiously before going to sleep. You had read it over so often, you were confident that you could recite every line in your sleep.

A polite cough interrupted your pre-show pep talk.

You looked up, not expecting to meet Min Yoongi’s gaze. Blinking, you took in his features, not realizing that you were blatantly staring. Who could blame you, though? There was something so virile about Yoongi that had you doing a double take. He exuded masculinity with every step he took towards you. Something inside you clenched.

“____?” He called your name, gaze flicking over your features in turn. He took a seat opposite of you and holding out a hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” you smiled as sweetly as you could. His grip was strong and secure, his touch cold.

“Hm.” He let out a noncommittal sound while he perused a file on his lap. You recognized the papers Seokjin had typed up beforehand, your name headlining one of them, but your attention was quickly diverted.

Your eyes were instantly drawn to his long and elegant looking fingers, the veins in his hands prominent whenever he flipped a page over absentmindedly. It was strange seeing them in person... Just the other night, you had been salivating over the thought of them inside you, thrusting and curling with expert precision and unwavering focus, every movement intended to coax a moan of pleasure from your lips. You had seen how lethal they could be through the screen of your laptop... Now you were going to be experiencing those skills firsthand. The thought sent a rush of excitement through your body.

“I’ve taken note of your hard limits.” His smooth baritone tone snapped you back to attention. “The scene doesn’t require we go that far anyway, but just in case you get too uncomfortable with anything, your safe word is ‘cobbler’, correct?”

“Yes.” You gave a short nod, your neck stiff as you tried not to break eye contact.

“Have you read through my form?”

“I have, Mr. Min.”

A snort escaped him then, his lips curling into the kind of smile that bordered on a smirk. “No need to be so formal. You can call me by my name outside of a scene.”

“Yoongi, then.” Your hands felt clammy all of a sudden and you wiped your palms on your skirt, hoping that he wouldn’t notice your incessant fidgeting. The glint in his eyes indicated that you weren’t nearly as successful in masking your nervousness as you would have liked. You didn’t even know why you felt so antsy. This wasn’t your first time meeting an attractive porn star. Yesterday’s shoot with Taehyung had gone without a hitch. So why were you getting so worked up now? You weren’t eighteen and impressionable anymore.

His gaze swept over your body, interrupting your line of thought. You felt it brush over your delicate throat, your supple curves, your bare legs. The scrutiny made the surface of your skin heat up, your legs clench together.

“Ah, I’m looking forward to working with you.” A ghost of a smirk crossed his features. For a moment, you believed it to be a product of your imagination, but he shot you a wink as he got up to his feet, the action suggestive enough to have you swallow thickly.

In retrospect, maybe it was a good thing you were nervous—it made your acting a lot more believable. You wrung your hands together, head bowed in a show of contrition.

"While Mr. Jung and I don't see eye to eye on a number of subjects, some of his methods of punishment have been very enlightening—albeit a tad primitive.” He regarded you with detached interest, his eyes sweeping over your figure. His impassive stare made you fidget in your seat, the scratchy material of your skirt rubbing against your thighs. “I could just let you off with a detention slip, but students like you need to be put back in their place."

Yoongi was so good at this, his tone convincing enough to have you believe in his words. For a moment, you let yourself pretend that all of this was real—that you had really acted up when you weren’t supposed to and that he was now going to punish you for your misbehavior. It was so easy to slip into your role when he appeared so serious and forbidding.

"Bend over."

He punctuated his command by tapping his ruler against his wooden desk, his tongue clucking in a show of impatience when you refused to move. You licked your dry lips, silently wishing you could have a glass of cool water to quench your sudden thirst.

"A-are you serious?" you croaked, finally remembering the lines you had memorized.

"I assure you, I am not the type to joke around."

With his arms crossed, he looked every bit like the imposing figure he was playing as. Gulping audibly, you slowly gathered to your feet. You kept your gaze trained on the polished floorboards, making sure to avoid his probing stare.

"I find that corporal punishment works wonders on troublesome students like yourself. Writing lines for an hour hardly has the same impact." Above you, his low chuckle could be heard. Goosebumps raised to attention as your eyes fluttered to a close.

“Skirt up. Let me see that ass.”

“S-sir.”

“You had no qualms flashing me your filthy cunt the other day. Up, now.”

You hurried to obey, his stern tone jolting you into action. Your fingers reached behind you, hiking the material of the skirt high enough so that your skin was exposed to the cool air. Behind you, Yoongi patted your cheek in mock praise before deftly fitting the hem of your skirt into the band of your waistline so as to keep the fabric in place.

Not expecting him to kick your feet wider apart, you barely managed to stifle your yelp of surprise. You attempted to anchor yourself by clutching the sides of the desk, your legs now stretched too widely apart to be considered decent behavior. The position you were in was humiliating, intended to make you feel vulnerable and exposed.

“Good.”

The single word had your pulse race. His praise felt like a physical caress, and you closed you eyes to let the feeling wash over you.

“Now tell me.” Yoongi’s voice was now deceptively smooth and you knew right away that he was toying with you. “How many misdemeanors was that in one night, hmm?”

You blinked, suddenly remembering that you were supposed to be portraying a misbehaving student. Cursing your lack of focus, your mouth opened as you tried to recall the script. When you took too long to answer, Yoongi went on with the scene, sidestepping your blunder.

“Too many,” he supplied with a sigh, sounding disappointed; whether it was with you for forgetting your lines or with your character, you weren’t sure. Either way, the remorseful look on your face wasn’t extremely hard to fake. You felt nervous again, wondering how well you would be able to perform today.

With an easy yank, your panties fell to the ground, leaving you even more indecently exposed than before. As Yoongi crouched down to peel them off of your body completely, any worries you might have had didn’t seem of much importance anymore. What mattered was the touch of his fingers on the backs of your thighs—cold against your burning skin.

"I wish you could see yourself right now." He mocked, voice laced with something akin to smugness. You felt his hot breath tickle the insides of your knee, the sensation almost enough to make them buckle. "Skirt up, legs spread wide open... So wet and ready for a nice cock between your thighs, isn’t that right?”

The bright lights from overhead spotlighted the acute shame and arousal that raged within you. Both coalesced into one intense emotion that reduced you to a big puddle of desire. You weren't sure if it was his husky tone or the shocking amount of filth that spewed from his lips, but you felt the coil in your stomach tighten with each word leaking into your ear. Your heart raced wildly in your chest, your hands hanging uselessly by your head. His words made you want to hide your face behind your arms, but you knew that wasn’t an option—not when a camera was intent on capturing every shift of your expression.

Your lack of response didn’t seem to deter him for he continued on, merciless with his interrogation.

“Is this turning you on? Do you like being reminded how desperate you are to be stuffed full?"

Every question left you short of breath—you felt each of them like physical thrusts that made the crux of your thighs ache with a need to be filled up. A heavy haze muddled your thoughts. All you could focus on was the throbbing in your core; all you could here was his voice crooning obscenities in the crook of your ear.

"I can see your tight hole clench.” Yoongi let out a disbelieving laugh, the derisive sound making your cheeks bloom pink with embarrassment.

The flush that adorned your cheeks only darkened further when you realized the camera probably had a perfect, unobstructed view of your sopping center. You could only imagine what the sight would look like on screen—your inner thighs glistening from your slick, your lower lips slightly swollen and flushed pink from your obvious arousal. With the way you were bent over the desk, presenting yourself willingly to his hungry stare, you had no doubts that you looked like an expensive dessert ready to be devoured.

"Y-Yoongi, please..." Eyes glassy, you felt yourself clench again as you imagined his dark eyes drinking in the sight of you bent over, wet and ready for him.

"Don't talk to me so informally," he scolded, pinching the inside of your thigh as punishment. A yelp escaped your parted lips—not because it was painful but because you felt a sting of pleasure zap straight to your bundle of nerves like an electric shock. “Address me properly.”

It was easy to give in if it meant you would get what you wanted. “Y-yes, sir.”

“Now, let’s start this again.” Holding your breath in anticipation for what was to come, you struggled to stay still in the position he wanted even though your knees ached. How long were you expected to stay like this? It probably hadn’t been very long, maybe five minutes at the most, but you could already feel the muscles in your thighs straining. “When I ask you a question, I expect a verbal response, understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.” Thankfully your voice was stable this time. He patted one of your exposed cheeks in praise, the little slap enough to have you wanting more.

Your legs were so spread out that you didn’t notice you were making a mess on the floor until Yoongi brought attention to the drops that spotted the wood, "I'm not even touching you and you're making a mess. What? Pretty boy Kim Taehyung fail to get you off?"

"Maybe he would have if you hadn't interrupted," you bit out, true to the script. Frustration seeped into your every word, but it was more directed at yourself for getting so aroused by his words and actions. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt so affected; usually you had to play it up a lot more for the cameras but this time you barely registered the filming crew that stood a few feet away.

"I don't need to touch your dirty cunt for you to cum," he huffed. Although you couldn’t see his expression, you could picture his stare hardening and his lips thinning into a straight line. "You’re soiling my office right now and all it took was for you to offer your pussy to me. You’re proving to be quite the slut tonight. I think I’ll leave you like this, legs open, empty and aching for cock, as your punishment.”

"Wait—no, please!” The desperation in your voice was alarmingly real. You could feel your eyes well with tears of frustration because the prospect of being denied release was simply too cruel to fathom. You didn’t know how long you would be able to endure having nothing filling you up. In every one of your past films, the scene had always had minimal foreplay and little to no plot. Normally at the 5 minute mark, you would have already swallowed his dick down your throat... You weren’t used to having this drag on for so long. Never before had you felt this engaged while shooting a porn scene.

"I don't want you to beg. I want you to apologize—no, to grovel."

Shameless, you whimpered, “I'm sorry. I'm so—please, I'm sorry.”

His hand crashed down on your burning skin with a resounding smack. The unexpected force behind the swat ripped a cry from your throat, the sound raw and primal. Your eyes watered as you panted, breath cut short when he brought his hand down on the opposite cheek.

"And what exactly are you sorry for, slut?"

The hands soothing over the sting contrasted with the unforgiving edge in his voice. You suddenly remembered what Seokjin had said, that you were in capable hands. You believed these words, trusting Yoongi to make the right decisions.

"I'm sorry for sneaking out past curfew."

"What else?"

"I'm sorry for... Sorry for behaving indecently with Taehyung."

"Not specific enough," he chided, his rebuke underscored by a harsh slapping noise.

"I'm sorry! Please, ah, I'm sorry we were kissing. Sorry for letting him—nhh—touch me." With every new admission, he delivered a firm spank to your reddening cheeks. The blows weren’t hard enough to really hurt, but the repeated swats onto your sensitive skin would probably leave a blooming bruise. You couldn’t wait to see the visible reminder of your punishment, the red mark from his hand his personal brand of ownership.

"And where did he dare touch you?" Yoongi’s lips curled into a scowl, his voice low and dangerous.

"My breasts. B-but only over my vest," you were quick to add after sensing Yoongi's form tense over you. "And my—my thighs..." You were desperately trying to remember the lines of the script you had practiced so hard to memorize, but the exact wording kept escaping you with every firm swat of his hand against the globes of your ass.

Yoongi's deafening silence urged you to finish your confession. He rubbed circles over your stinging skin with the palms of his hands, squeezing the soft flesh between his fingers as he waited for you to resume talking.

Taking a shuddering breath, you obliged him, "He—he filled my pussy up with his f-fingers..."

"Did he? And did you enjoy that? Did you like having his long fingers fuck your greedy hole?" He reached down and delved a hand between your legs as he spoke. With a skilled index finger, he ran it across your wet lips tentatively to gauge how ready you were for him. Pausing at your entrance, he swirled his finger around, coating it in your copious amount of arousal. Just one finger was not nearly close enough to the friction you craved. You bucked your hips in response, silently beckoning him for more, as if that would somehow convince him to put an end to the teasing.

Immediately, he chastised you by smacking your sopping wet center. Arching your back, you felt all the air leave your lungs with a drawn out whimper. Echoes of pleasure vibrated throughout your body, from your head to your very toes. Your clit throbbed, swollen with arousal. The tingling sensations made your inner walls clamp down and you found yourself wishing not for the first time for his cock to fill you up.

“Answer me.” Yoongi hissed between his teeth—a warning you didn’t dare ignore.

"Y-yes, yes, I did," you finally responded after struggling to remember the initial question.

"Is that all? Was that all he put inside of you?”

“No.” With a swipe of your tongue, you licked your dry lips.

“No?”

The one word question was enough to know that he wasn’t going to let it go until you elaborated your answer. You squirmed in his hold, your heart pounding as you finally admitted what he wanted to know. “He put his cock in-inside me.”

“You let him fuck you?” The incredulity that colored his tone sounded so genuine you almost believed his act. You shuddered. “I should’ve known a dirty little slut like you wouldn’t be able to keep her legs shut.”

“I’m sorry, sir. Please, p-please fu—” You gulped, your throat dry.

“Speak up, girl!” He snapped, slapping the palm of his hand over your slick center. As soon as his fingers hit your clit, you felt your back arching and your sensitive nipples rub up against the hard, wooden surface of the desk. The searing pain hit all of your nerve endings, effectively rendering you speechless. Meanwhile, your hips futilely chased after his punishing touch, hoping to finally get the satisfaction you were craving for. "Tell me, do you like getting humiliated? I'm trying to punish you but you seem to be enjoying this far too much. I thought that a girl like you would need a firm hand to get her act together, but I think that you need more than that, don’t you?"

"Answer me.” Yoongi punctuated his command with another smack to your lower lips, the sudden blow leaving you dizzy and bereft of coherency.

"Yes—ah fuck, sir please!" Gasping, the feeling of the harsh sting shot straight to your swollen, sensitive bundle of nerves like an electric shock. For a short second, your mind felt blissfully blank as the zap of pleasure traveled through your entire body from one extremity to another. "Please touch me, I need to come!"

"I can see that.” He laughed, spreading out your cheeks out so he could have a better look at the proof of your shame. “Your hole keeps clenching, asking for fingers...or perhaps it needs a nice, thick cock? Hm?"

A whimper left your lips before you could think of subduing it. The thought of finally having him buried deep inside of you was nearly too much to bear. From the way you were bent over and spread wide open, you were basically offering yourself to him. All he had to do was take what was his.

“Please fuck me now,” you moaned, hoping that he would douse the fire between your legs. The need for friction was so unbearable you thought that you would burst at the seams. You tried to undulate your hips in a silent plea for more but his left hand kept you pinned down and immobile to the table.

"I thought as much. What makes you think you deserve mine? Do you honestly think you deserve this cock?” As if to tease you even further, he pressed himself against your exposed backside. Your entire body shuddered as it felt the prominent outline of his erect length through the material of his pants. Even through the layers of fabric, you could tell that he was well endowed. Images of him on screen, feeding his cock to his partner as she begged him to fuck her throat, flashed through your mind. Your mouth watered at the prospect of finally having him in the way that you so desired.

“Please, sir.”

Your mouth was so dry that your plea could barely be heard over the thundering of your heart. Somehow, he had understood your dire need, for he spoke, “Little whores like you should know how to beg for a fucking properly.” His voice was full of disappointment as he stepped away from you. Panicking from the loss of proximity, you hurried to placate him.

“Sir! Please fuck my dirty pussy. Fuck Taehyung’s cum out of my pussy. Please, sir, I’m your slut, only yours, please make your slut cum.”

Your watery plea was met with tense silence, and it was then that you realized that you had said the wrong thing.

“Up,” he ordered, finally breaking the stifling stillness.

Your reactions were somewhat delayed, dizziness dulling your senses and slowing you down. Still feeling unstable, you gripped the edge of the desk, your knuckles turning white. Blood rushed to your head and you had to wait for a few seconds before the spots of light that danced in your vision faded away.

"Naughty sluts don't wear clothes, do they?"

Even though it was clearly a rhetorical question, you replied anyway, head bowed in shame, "No, sir."

Without waiting for his verbal command, you began to strip yourself of the cheap, white blouse. Subconsciously, you made sure to face one of the cameras as you slowly undid the buttons of your top one by one. Normally, you would be acutely aware of how everyone's attention was focused on you, but the only thing you could focus on this time was Yoongi's predatory stare. It was the minute changes in his expression that gave him away—his pupils were blown wide with lust, his nostrils flaring slightly as he drank the sight of you in—and, of course, the bulge in his slacks that he didn't bother to hide.

Next came the skirt. It hadn't been covering much to begin with, but with the way it was bunched up useless at your hips, you didn't feel any more exposed than you previously did once it came off.

Left in only your lacy bra, you played coy, your fingers just barely keeping the flimsy material held up. This part of the scene hadn't been explicitly discussed beforehand, but many things had deviated from the original script. And since nobody had interrupted the two of you yet, you figured that you were allowed to take a few liberties. Instead of feeling confused and lost from the unpredictability of the events, a strange feeling of excitement surged through you. It didn't feel like you were going through practiced motions; you felt wholly engaged in the present. You only had a vague idea of where this was headed and the element of surprise kept you on your toes.

Yoongi, ever in character, was not amused by your games. He clucked his tongue and narrowed his eyes in warning. Tilting his head as if silently asking you 'do you really want to play this game?’ you finally cowered. Your hands fell to your side along with your last material scrap of decency. There was not a single thread to cover you any longer—Yoongi was free to scrutinize every inch of exposed skin without a barrier to block his view. By slipping off your last item of clothing, you had bent yourself to his will and surrendered your body to him.

“On the desk, on your hands and knees. Ass up and hold yourself open for me.”

You scrambled to comply, not wanting to test his patience. Maybe if this was another day, in another place...but here, right now, you felt yourself follow his lead as if your body was on automatic.

The position was somehow even more degrading than the previous one. From this angle, Yoongi now had a better view of your drenched pussy. And by holding yourself open for him, you felt like a willing participant to your own humiliation. Perched on all fours atop the piece of furniture, you felt like just another object of decoration—your sole purpose to be used or admired as pleased.

You felt terribly exposed, but there was no denying the resulting spike of arousal in your stomach. But just as quickly as the burst of desire spiked, it disappeared, leaving you even more sexually frustrated than before.

"CUT!" the director yelled from somewhere behind you. The sudden reminder that you weren't alone, that this wasn't real, made you flinch. It felt like someone had yanked you straight back to reality without forewarning and you were left confused and disoriented, stuck between the truth and fantasy. "Good, you guys are doing good. Let's take a short break. We need to fix the lighting.”

Film breaks weren’t uncommon but you had been so immersed in the scene that you were slow to react. "Fix her makeup before we prep for the second part," came the second set of instructions.

Truthfully, you weren't paying attention; too busy steadying your racing heart. A young woman came forward and blotted the sweat at your hairline with a tissue before reapplying a layer of gloss on your lips and retouching your eyeliner. You barely registered her actions, not focused on your surroundings in the least.

"We're going to stick the bulb inside of you now, okay?"

It took several moments for you to understand that they were talking to you. As the words finally registered, you nodded your agreement.

The strange, artificial mixture felt cold inside of your walls. It was probably the usual stuff they used when they shot creampies, you thought distantly, not caring. Every squirt inside of you made your hips twitch in reaction although there was nothing sexy about this; the clinical approach dampened your arousal and gave you time to clear your mind. Your eyebrows knitted together as you patiently waited for the faux semen to fill you up. They made sure not to shoot it deep inside, so you felt it slowly start to ooze out as soon as the assistant stepped away from you.

"Yoongi, we'll restart from your last line, ‘ass up and hold yourself open for me’, got it? Everyone ready? Scene 2, take 2, aand action!"

Silence fell upon the watching crew members. This way, it was easy to erase their presence and give your attention to Yoongi.

"Hold yourself open for me." Softly, he whispered, his voice smooth like liquid silk.

You reached behind you, fingers gripping your now sore skin, and held yourself open so that he could inspect your pussy. His hot breath fanned over your backside, and it took all of your strength not to squirm away from his proximity.

"Look how easy you are. Head down, ass up like a bitch in heat." Every word had you spiraling deeper into submission. You whimpered, low in your throat, the degrading words making you throb, "I bet Taehyung had no trouble at all sliding in this greedy cunt. You probably asked for it, didn't you? Can't live without something filling this hole up."

"Silly slut," he pinched your throbbing clit, ripping a pained yelp from your throat. "Your pussy is mine. Only I get to cum inside. You take my cum, and only when I think you're worthy enough for my seed."

The thought of belonging to him, of having him use you like his own personal plaything, made your body quiver with desire. More than anything, you wanted him to fuck you good, to take what belonged to him. In that moment, you were his. His voice controlled you, his hands disciplined you, his cock would reward you. Every inch of your pleasure belonged to him.

Your mouth watered—a burning thirst raging inside of you. You were more than convinced you would be willing to do anything to douse the ache that ate away at the remaining bits of your sanity. "I only want your cock, sir. No one gives it to me like you, I can only cum with your cum inside of me."

"Get your fingers nice and wet, slut. Get yourself clean and ready for me."

The slippery fluid inside of you felt no different than cold lube. As your fingers pumped in and out of your tight hole, the mixture spilled out of you, staining the insides of your thighs with opaque white. The mess you were making was of little importance—all of your senses were focused instead on your burgeoning orgasm. Yoongi had already wound you up so tightly that you felt the coil inside of you ready to snap at a moment's notice.

Suddenly you remembered that Yoongi was watching your performance with hawk eyes. Afraid of the consequences you would have to face if you came without permission, you slowed down your movements, hoping he would allow you at least this.

But no such mercy came. The sharp sting on the side of your right cheek made you lurch forward, your knees sliding against the sleek and polished surface. Yoongi's hands were instantly by your hips, grounding you in place. His strong grip made your worries ebb away; you trusted him to keep you from toppling over onto the ground.

The stark contrast between Yoongi’s reassuring touch and the hard edge in his tone was startling. "Is all of his cum out yet? No? Then get back to work," he snapped out his command, his hands now spreading your cheeks wide open so that he and the camera could have a perfect view of your messy pussy. “Look how fucking filthy you are, it’s leaking all over. Just how much cock did you take for it to make so much of a mess?”

You could feel your skin heating up again, his lewd commentary setting you aflame with renewed desire. Your fingers worked the cum-colored lube out of your core, every loud squelch picked up by the cameras. Mouth parted; whine after whine escaped from your lips. Your need for release was becoming more unbearable by the second, and you were reaching that point where the consequences of your actions started to matter little.

“Little slut wants to cum?” The mocking lilt in Yoongi’s voice told you he wasn’t going to let you have it easy. Your head lolled forward, resigning yourself to more of what he had in store for you. “You won’t, and want to know why?”

He wound his fingers through your tresses, before yanking hard. Your scalp burned and you had no choice but to tilt your head back and meet his steely stare. From above, he exuded dominance and authority; his icy expression and firm grip in your hair challenging you to not break eye contact.

“No, sir,” you rasped, finding it hard to form the words with the way your head was bent backwards.

“You won’t because dirty whores can only cum with a fat cock inside of them, isn’t that right?” He spat, his features twisting almost as if he was disgusted with you.

But you knew that was far from the truth. After all, you weren’t blind to the way his pupils were dilated—only a thin circle of brown was left, the hunger in his eyes having eclipsed the rest. His nostrils flared when you mewled in response to the humiliation—another visible sign of his arousal. You knew he wanted you, but the problem was that he, unlike you, had perfect control over his desire.

Try as you might, it was impossible to taper the need pulsing between your thighs. You craved it as much as the air you breathed.

“I can only cum if I have you inside me,” you sobbed, giving in completely. Any reservations were gone; you knew you would do anything to please this man. Hand still buried in your cunt, you begged, “My pleasure is yours, sir. I’m want—only want your thick cock inside of me, please take what’s yours. I’m yours, just yours. I’m a dirty slut, please u—use me.”

Shivers wracked through your frame when you heard him slide down his zipper. All of your senses were trained on him, your body reacting to even the slightest rustle of clothes.

“Good slut.” The silken croon made its way to your ears and you closed your eyes, letting the praise wash over you. “Let me see if your cunt’s ready for me.” When Yoongi easily replaced your fingers with his own, you instantly felt the stretch. He crooked his digits inside of you, listening to your needy whimpers with relish. Two fingers quickly became three, the force of his thrusts never slowing down.

“I’m going to fuck you from behind, slut. But that’s how you like it, don’t you?” You sniffled, not trying to refute the claim. To be taken from behind like some animal in heat, forced to submit to the brunt of his passion... When he phrased it like that, it sounded so humiliating, so degrading. Here you were, bent and kneeling on a desk, your naked ass perked up for his viewing pleasure, just like the common slut he was accusing you of being. “Like a good little bitch.”

You didn’t deny his accusations because you knew it to be true. Your breasts only got this sensitive if you were ovulating or if you were really turned on. And there was no use denying the former, not with the way your cunt was shiny and drenched with your own fluids.

“Bend over the desk properly if you want to get fucked.”

Never before had you completed a task with so much enthusiasm. You stretched your limbs out, your feet finding purchase on the ground while your hands gripped the edge of the desk. Excitement pooled in your gut; you had never felt so eager for a fucking before. You were unsure how much time had passed since the start of the shoot, but it somehow felt like lifetimes ago. You had been ready for his cock half a century ago.

It seemed like Yoongi was done dawdling around as well. He eased the tip of his cock inside of you. There was so much of your slick and lube, that it took two, three tries before successfully pushing in. You let out a shaky breath, body shuddering. Above you, Yoongi let out a grunt, his hands kneading your reddened flesh between his fingers. He kept you open for him, his attention fixed on the way your warm walls gripped his head snugly, eager to be fed more. Unable to form coherent words, you clenched around him, attempting to draw him in deeper.

“A perfect plaything, letting me use her up however I want.” His words cut off into a growl as he bottomed out, his balls slapping against you. Your eyes watered, the girth of his hardened shaft stretching you out deliciously. Sweat beaded at your brow as you struggled to stay still for him, wanting him to use you as he pleased.

Yoongi started up an easy rhythm, each of his thrusts making you slide across the surface of the desk. You felt stimulated from all over—you stiff nipples rubbed against the polished wood while his cock worked its way inside of you. Expletives intermingled with the occasional praise; and his grunts of satisfaction coaxed out your moans of pleasure.

“Tell me, can Taehyung fuck you this good?”

Distantly, you recognized this as a line from the script and your body reacted as if on auto-pilot. “No one can fuck me as good as you.”

“Is that right? Then why did you let him inside your cunt?” A deep thrust made you choke out a high-pitched moan, the sound slutty even to your own ears. He stayed buried deep inside of you, but you barely had time to catch your breath before he tightened his fingers around your locks and pulled. Using the grip in your hair to guide you into the position he desired, he yanked you upwards, your shaking arms now propping your upper body up.

“B-because I’m a slut,” you admitted, your head hanging low in shame. You weren’t even sure if it was an act or not, but the words seemed to spur him on even more, his thrusts speeding up once again. “I like having cum inside of me.”

“A cumslut, huh?” You struggled to stay propped up, but every harsh piston of his hips made stability difficult to maintain. “Can’t go without a man’s cum filling you up. You like being a cumdump for men that much?”

“O-only yours, only for you.”

“That’s right. I own this slutty cunt.” Yoongi brought his mouth close to your ear, his teeth biting your lobe before mouthing down the side of your neck. As he left a trail of hot kisses down the column of your neck, he brought his hands up to cup your breasts, feeling them bounce in his hold with every slap of his hips against your own. You felt his breathing becoming ragged, the sound doing things to your insides.

He sunk his fingers in the supple flesh, probably leaving another set of marks to match the ones on your hips and ass, and used his hold as leverage to fuck into you faster. Every thrust inside you knocked the breath out of you—your desire spiraling to new heights with each whispered word into your ear. The pleasure started to become too much to bear and you clenched around his length to signal your approaching orgasm.

“You’re gonna cum already? Should’ve known a slut like you wouldn’t be able to control herself when fed the right cock.” He didn’t slow down at all, his cock impaling you over and over again with no reprieve in sight. You knew if he kept this up, you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself back anymore.

“Please sir, let me cum,” you begged, your plea coming out in short pants. You didn’t know which one would give out first—your legs or your arms. The only thing that kept you upright and standing were Yoongi’s hands kneading your breasts and his hips pinning yours to the desk.

Yoongi released your nipple with a hard tug, the free hand snaking up to your parted mouth. Instinctively, your lips wrapped around the invading digits, sucking it like it would a cock. “So greedy. You don’t get to make the demands here, slut. But I’ll be nice today because you took your spanking so well. Go on then, little slut.”

The fact that you couldn’t even see the fact of the person who was stuffing two of your holes made the fucking so impersonal. A new wave of shame swept over you, and you felt like you could drown in it. Your body thrashed in his hold, a lightning bolt of pleasure zapping through your entire body and making you starry-eyed. Your entire world shrunk, until all you knew was him and the thick cock spearing you open.

Yoongi’s hips stuttered, his own release in reach. You felt his length twitch inside you but he quickly pulled out, his right hand stroking his slick shaft in furious strokes. You barely registered the first spurt of semen land on your well fucked pussy, the rest of his seed painting your lower lips in fields of white.

The force of your orgasm wiped you out and you took a few seconds to regain your bearings, eyes still closed, blocking out the outside world.

It took several moments for you to be brought back to reality, spots of light still dancing in your vision whenever you blinked. Your chest heaved from exertion, your eyes watery. Your body felt incredibly light, like you could float away from the ground at any moment like a hot air balloon.

“____?” Someone repeated your name, trying to snap you out of your daze by shaking your shoulders. “Here’s some water.” A set of arms helped you sit up, and a cold glass of water was pushed into your numbed hands. “You did so well! There was no reason to be nervous, I knew you would do great.”

Belatedly, you realized that it was your agent speaking to you. He wrapped your shoulders in a pink, fluffy bathrobe—the soft fabric a welcome comfort. Seokjin showered you in praises, asking if you need anything more, but his voice faded into white noise. Your eyes flitted around the room, restless, searching.

As if feeling the weight of your gaze on him, Yoongi looked up from his phone and smiled at you. Even if his cheeks were flushed pink and his hair matted with sweat, he looked infinitely more composed than you felt. Biting the inside of your cheek, you wondered how you could possibly approach him.

A faint buzzing pulled you from your train of thought. When you looked down, you saw a message light up the screen of your phone. Your thumb swiped the surface so that the newest message could fill up the entire screen.

[unknown number] : hey. i cant wait to work with you again ;-)

[edit: short continuation.]

Although your body was thoroughly sated, there was still an eagerness that hadn’t been completely quashed. You were still drunk off your high, your body now hooked to Yoongi’s touch. You wanted a repeat. Badly.

After the initial swell of elation had ebbed, you steadied your trembling fingers to type out a hurried reply. Thank God for autocorrect was your first coherent thought. You weren’t sure if your inability to spell the simplest of words was because of your stubby thumbs or because Yoongi had fucked every last feeling out of your body, leaving you numb all over. Did it even matter? The end result was the same, either way.

A minute passed. Your thumbs stumbled across the keyboard in your rushed attempt to correctly type out your response. It took another two tries before you finally succeeded in writing a message that was 1) free of spelling mistakes and 2) simultaneously made your intentions obvious (a flirtatious winky face included for good measure). However right before you were about to hit ‘send’, a new set of vibrations put a halt to your actions.

[unknown number] : i’m jimin btw. :) the 2nd AC.

What?

[unknown number] : you look really pretty on camera :)

[unknown number] : and in real life too! not just on camera.

[unknown number] : sorry if i sound so forward. but it’s been a long time sinc—

Your brain screeched to a halt as more messages flooded in, one right after the other.

Jimin…the second assistant cameraman?

(edit added 12.08)

ɛ sequel here ! ᴈ

#legit not proofread bc i cant look at it anymore dkfljdfk #this was originally supposed to be 6k but idk what happened mY HAND SLIPPED #this is.............#just filth lmao #i have no excuses #bts smut #yoongi smut #yoongi

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