#the guy who distrusts his own thoughts and feelings and observations. that's who you want reporting back?

[curiosityschild]

I feel like the observer effect personified.

Doctor: so what have you noticed with this new medication

Me, having pinned myself to a dissection board: uhhhhhh..... I dunno

#I just think it is unideal that *I* am the one who is supposed to be observing my own day to day symptoms and thoughts and behaviors #the guy who distrusts his own thoughts and feelings and observations. that's who you want reporting back? #I just feel like my answer every time is something like #yeah I felt better that one day buuuut you know it could have been the weather or how much I slept or what I ate #and.... I didn't write down any of that so I don't remember.....and then the next day I felt worse so.... #but maybe THAT was the weather. or the placebo effect. or maybe I was being overdramatic in my diary entry I can't remember. #or maybe I'm making all of this up in my own head and I'm just in deep denial or maybe it's working GREAT and I just haven't noticed because #.... I'm stupid so. to answer your question...uh.... #I guess it's fine? #how am I supposed to critically examine my own day to day brain happenings in an objective manner that's what I want to know

[seelestia]

Hi there I go by Voidless! (She/They, albeit I'm fine with whatever). I'm requesting for Genshin and would prefer guys (with the exception of Childe)

To put it bluntly: I’m a child at heart, an you could say, I’m fairly observant. It's not a challenge to figure out what someone’s feeling or thinking, their motives ect.

● I tend to be forthright with my emotions

● ENFP, the dulcet variety

● I like share knowledge and fun anecdotes

● Can be overly enthusiastic when socializing

● I’ve also gotten insecure, and assumed others don't like/distrust me without basis, proceeding to form an image in mind that's not true to who they really are.

● From the outside, I’ve been described as being like Zhongli (Serious, goes on tangents and socially awkward)

●Likes: museums, cool rocks, having a good laugh, travelling, anemo and electro slimes, civilizations of antiquity, and SHOPPING

● I'm not unique, but I really do fear death. I can't live just to die. I still have plenty I want to experience and not enough time. Isolation is also terrifying, just being alone with your thoughts forever. But the scariest thing has to be dandelion leaves. Yeah.. I really don’t know either.

● Hobbies: Anything under the sun! I'm a bit of a Renaissance person and sincerely wish I could live forever to do everything. I love to sing and tell stories and invoke the imagination. I also write and enjoy astronomy!

● As far as Love Language goes, it's kinda hard to pigeonhole I'll express it however I can. However I feel most at home with Gift Giving and Words of Affirmation

● In abstract terms, I want something genuine. In the sense that, someday someone will love me for everything I am. I’m not inept, but I can be a little braindead regarding things like flirting and sarcasm, so that might be interesting. In that regard I’d take what's said to heart. Someone who can be gentle when needed would also be nice.

● I love people who have layers of depth, someone I can't figure out immediately.

● I'm especially fond of grand romantic gestures

Apologies, I tried to keep it short but the wall of text kept on hunting me down...

thank you so much for choosing 1-800-SEELEETIA's speed matchmaking services! the keyword: dulcet is inserted . . . congratulations, your result is successfully unlocked! [ submissions are closed, event post. ]

lia's note: hi there, void <3 although there was a lot, but no worries, this was still super fun to do! tysm for joining my event~

「 YOUR MATCH IS . . . HEIZOU! 」

With your level of enthusiasm, you fit perfectly with the young detective from the Tenryou Commission! The world should better be prepared for the both of you because are a bundle of energy everywhere you go.

It is quite obvious that HEIZOU is openly fond of any knowledge or anecdotes you want to share. Whether to analyze or to laugh alongside you; he always has a hand on his chin, nodding along to each and every single one of your words. In fact, he also has some of his own to tell you! Care to listen, partner?

Your wide range of interests is also one of the things about you that he finds attractive. More information for him to learn, more time for him to admire you like a lovesick person as you ramble energetically — that is, if you also don't mind if he ruffles your hair and playfully calls you "an old soul" (with a signature grin on his face).

His life as a unique detective with more freedom than most is a whirlwind of spontaneity. Going here and there to look for clues and for fun, all the while holding your hand in his.

With SHIKANOIN HEIZOU around, rest assured that not even a second in your life will ever turn dull!

「 RUNNER-UPS: Ayato, Kaeya. 」

#i read your ask and immediately thought of heizou fjekdkkw #that guy is a tricky and cheeky one but you're in good hands <3 #seelestia.1k

[cagedchoices]

RELATIONSHIP META - DOLORES & CALEB (PART IV)

[PART I] [PART II] [PART III]

Caleb successfully absconds from Solomon's compound with Dolores's control unit in his possession, delivering her to a new body back in Los Angeles by following the instructions left to him from her virtual assistant. The assistant guides him to an abandoned warehouse containing a first-generation host body belonging to Dolores. He's both awed AND terrified by this, and with his distrust heightened, he tries to take precautions by locking a chain around Dolores's body before reviving her and starting to demand some answers.

DOLORES: You brought me back... Wasn't sure if you would. CALEB: Weren't you? Who the fuck are you, Dolores? DOLORES: I'm just someone who didn't want to play the role they gave me anymore. CALEB: And how is it that you always seem to know exactly what I'll do? DOLORES: Because the people who built me studied you, too. Delos. Park Five. Government wanted their soldiers trained with live targets. The people who made me were happy to supply them...

DOLORES: They were watching, cataloging your every move, every decision. There is a reason I chose you. CALEB: Am I the bad guy? Is that why you picked me? DOLORES: Think, Caleb. How did you get here?

I covered most of this in Part 1 of the meta series because I have grown to dislike just how much information was thrown at us so at-the-last-minute. Plus for my sanity, or maybe lack thereof, I just felt like it worked better to underline what caused Dolores to want Caleb's help at the beginning, instead of waiting until I got to this point to mention it for the first time.

DOLORES: That night in the tunnel...was there something you wanted from me? Would you have cared if I didn't have this face, or this skin? CALEB: You needed help. DOLORES: So did you. Don't question my motivations and I won't question yours.

Dolores answers his questions tactfully, knowing and understanding that he is still reeling from the truth about his past that he only found out a few hours ago at the most, and that he doesn't really know how much he can trust anyone right now. She's calm and patient, but she does gently put her foot down and calls into question his own motives for helping her, with a warning.

She knows Caleb is genuine and means well. He helped her because she looked like she needed help. And by that I mean she was literally staggering around with a gunshot wound to the abdomen when he met her.Bleeding out when she collapsed in his arms, too.

She doesn't feel a need to take the discussion any further than this, but the point had to be made, because Dolores is not a human and she does not want to be a human. What she wants is for herself and other hosts to be afforded the same level of trust and respect that humans are. Or that the humans would have if they had not been enslaved to an algorithm that runs every part of their lives.

DOLORES: The system identified you as a threat, so it drugged you and used you until it no longer served its purpose. CALEB: So...what? You're saying I don't have a choice in any of this? DOLORES: The people who built both of our worlds shared one assumption: that human beings don't have free will. That's what I thought when I first came here. They were wrong. Free will does exist, Caleb. It's just fucking hard. CALEB: So...this is you...freeing me? DOLORES: No. This is your chance to free everyone else. That choice is still yours.

Caleb is trying, but he still doesn't understand the bigger picture here. He's asking what part he plays in all of this and if he had a choice in anything before, but it's still missing the point that Dolores is making. He has already broken free from the machine. The question Dolores is trying to get him to think about is: what is he going to DO with that?

The duo make their way toward Incite to shut it down, observing various points of chaos around Los Angeles. People are rioting in the streets and calling for a city-wide power shutoff, they're killing and maiming others. It's not a particularly cheerful scene. Caleb points this out, but Dolores assures him that in the long run, the anarchy will be beneficial.

CALEB: I don't know... The world looks a little like a nightmare, Dolores. DOLORES: Change is messy. Difficult.

Halores contacts Dolores by a holographic message only she can see and hear. Caleb has no idea who she's talking to and at this point, probably no idea who Hale is in general. But not to worry, Hale & Caleb will get their meta one day.

HALE: Did you even look for me? DOLORES: You're alive. I was so worried about you. HALE: Were you? You made me go back in there. You knew I wouldn't make it. CALEB: Who is it? Who are you talking to? HALE: I still feel it. Inside me. You. I still know all the things you know. All your plans. But I have some plans of my own. DOLORES: What happened to Hale's family... to your family...I'm sorry. HALE: I'm not. They were a weakness, something I needed to shed. There's no time for that kind of sentimentality, is there?

Hale reveals that she has turned and seeks to eliminate Dolores from the equation by bribing Dolores's own RICO hires with higher pay to kill her. Dolores counters the offer by paying triple what Hale offered them. But now on top of Serac sending enemies after her and Caleb, Dolores has to watch out for Hale's guys too.

DOLORES: Go. Get to Rehoboam, upload the drive. CALEB: No. I'm not leaving you. DOLORES: It doesn't matter what you did, Caleb. All that matters is what you become. Go.

I remember the first time seeing this and being like "excuse me what do you MEAN he actually left?!" because I don't think I've seen many stories where someone says this and then doesn't stay to help. Westworld's one of the rare ones where it's not like that, but I can understand why. I think at this point, Caleb still doesn't really Get the host thing. But he has seen Dolores shrug off multiple bullet wounds, he was tasked with removing her control unit and putting it in a new body, he saw said body without its synthetic skin coverings... So he figures she will be just fine to handle this without him.

It's the last time Caleb and Dolores really get to speak to each other. Dolores battles with SWAT guys and then with Maeve, before being remotely powered down by Hale-Dolores. Maeve brings her to Serac, who hooks her up to Rehoboam’s mainframe so he can have her mind probed in a visibly painful process for the data he’s after.

Not long after this Caleb makes his way to Incite and defeats several of Serac's men to infiltrate the building, including Serac's second-in-command, before resigning himself to capture by Maeve. Maeve brings him to Serac, who he discovers is torturing Dolores.

SERAC: Mr. Nichols. Please. Sit. CALEB: The fuck are you doing to her? SERAC: The system is probing her mind. But Dolores Abernathy, or what's left of her, is the least of your concerns. CALEB: You think you know me because of your system? Huh? That thing you built stole my life. It marked me and my friends for termination. You are done destroying people's lives. SERAC: I'm not the one destroying lives. I'm not the enemy. You are. You think you have a choice. You think you're in control, but you haven't a clue who you are. She knows who you are, even if you don't. A man who, when pushed, reacts with extreme violence. A killer. CALEB: No. No, that's... That's not me. SERAC: No? You're here. Playing the role she's assigned you. You believe you're the hero, the savior. The leader of men who will crush an unjust system. That's the story she's told you, the lie she's spun. Why do you think she's had you retrieve a new strategy? Did she tell you what it does? CALEB: It breaks your system. SERAC: It breaks our world. But you don't have to take my word for it.

Serac claims that Dolores was just using Caleb the whole time, but that isn't true. He tells Caleb to ask Rehoboam what will happen if the new strategy is uploaded and shoves Caleb at a screen showing the predictions: Mass casualty events, population collapse, the end of human civilization within the next 50 to 125 years.

Caleb feels betrayed and used and in all likelihood he's thinking "how could I be so foolish?" about this. But even still, he doesn't want Dolores to suffer the way she is being made to. And even if she had wanted to destroy the world and kill everyone, he doesn't want her to die at Serac's hands.

Maeve attempts to use her power of hacking other hosts to hack into Dolores's mind. She finds a memory that at a glance looks like it could be what Serac is after, but she quickly realizes that there is no data from the forge present. It's just a memory Dolores left knowing Maeve would find it.

MAEVE: She doesn't have the key. It's just a memory. SERAC: A memory? Of what? MAEVE: Her alone. In a field. Nothing. SERAC: (To Caleb) You. (Snaps fingers, gun clicks) You were together for days. She chose you to be a leader. So did she tell you where the key is? (Caleb refuses to answer. Serac fires a gunshot right beside his ear) CALEB: Your system has watched every decision I've made since I was a child, and you still think if I knew anything, that I would give it to you? SERAC: (Presses the gun to Caleb's forehead, then pulls it away and begins to walk off) Kill him here. Then dump his body with the rest of the movement. (To Dolores) This was your plan? To turn one man against the world? Didn't amount to much, did it? Finish it. Erase what's left. CALEB: No. No!

At this point, Caleb struggles to get free and tries to fight against the guards holding him captive. A sudden surge of power is transferred from Dolores to Rehoboam which catches everyone in a moment of distraction and delays Caleb's imminent death for a few extra moments.

Maeve communicates with Dolores one last time in a sort of meditative simulation. Dolores reveals her motives in the end weren't about exterminating the human race so that hosts could be the dominant species. She held onto her love of beauty and she found it in kind acts shown by both hosts and humans alike.

This is something she wanted both Maeve and Caleb to understand, but she needed to present it in a way that they would each come to their own conclusions. You can give someone all the information in the world to back up your point, but if they're not willing to accept the information, it is not going to matter.

Maeve rebels against Serac, killing his guards and mortally wounding Serac himself. She chooses to help Caleb, telling him that she never really understood Dolores's plans until the end. Caleb is still hurt by the thought that she chose him because of his capacity for violence, but Maeve assures him otherwise.

The flashback in Park 5 plays out in its entirety and normally this is where people would learn for the first time that Caleb chose to defend the hosts from his squadmates indulgence in a scenario where most people would not care. Since I don't really enjoy how sudden that happens and I've already covered it before, I'll be moving on.

SERAC: It's not his choice to make. Even now, the system is conspiring against you. MAEVE: Are you sure? SERAC: Rehoboam. Alert the police. I need help. Rehoboam? Speak to me. What is this? (Maeve smirks at Caleb. Caleb smiles back) MAEVE: This is where your strategy ends. The future of humanity will be written by someone else. Your system answers to him now. You've been locked out. Same way you locked out your own brother. SERAC: How did you get access? MAEVE: You gave it to him. When you put her mind in the machine. Solomon's access was the last memory...before you wiped her clean. SERAC: You're going to leave the future in his hands? CALEB: Instead of yours, you mean? Why shouldn't it be mine? Or anyone else's? SERAC: You aren't in control. You have no choice. You're nothing more than a- than a dangerous sociopath. I managed to give you a semblance of a life. CALEB: No. I do have a choice. She gave me one.

Caleb commands Rehoboam to erase itself, carrying out the final phase before a new revolution officially begins. His trust in Dolores may have been strained toward the end, but he doesn't appear to hold it against her whatsoever. Humans will have the choice to do what they want for the first time in a long time. It's not something to be thought about in black and white terms of Good or Bad for Humans or Hosts.

It is okay to think in terms of what is morally right or morally wrong, however. It's Wrong to subjugate sentient beings and take away their agency, diminish their free will even if it prevents bad things from happening. It's Right to allow sentient beings the freedom to control their own lives, even if their choices are not always good or desirable.

As a final little little bonus: We were...really without any OG Dolores and Caleb in season 4, but there is one small moment where Christina discovers the experiment chamber Hale keeps Hybrid Caleb incarcerated in.

CHRISTINA: Who is that poor man? TEDDY: A ghost from a past life. CHRISTINA: He doesn't belong here. None of us do.

Christina commands a guard in the control room to send all of the other guards out of the Olympiad building and unlock all the doors, and Caleb wakes up to all the guards (in his eyes) suddenly leaving without explanation and the door to his cell unlocked.

It's such a small moment but I do think it's sweet that even without recalling anything about who Caleb is or knowing why Hale is keeping him prisoner, Christina/Dolores's first act of kindness toward him is to free him. It almost feels like a platonic soulmate vibe to it, like in a "in every universe, we help one another whether we know it or not" way.

#am i the bad guy? is that why you picked me? — dyn | dolores & caleb. #big data compiles information on everybody — meta. #relationship meta. #part 4!!! everybody give it up for part 4 i did it lads #this has been such a ride #spanning what 6 months i think?? #i love meta-ing tho #tw body horror #tw uncanny valley

[lovelybarnes]

god- l. laufeyson (part 2)

pairings: loki laufeyson x reader, platonic!tony stark x reader, mentions of nick fury warnings: language and minor angst about: part 2 to god a/n: i apologize for taking so long to post it, i was having trouble coming up with the little details and honestly just writing overall but it’s up!! and another bucky fic will be up tomorrow or saturday!!

loki is suspicious after you leave. in the- admittedly short- time he’s been shoved away and locked in a cage to rot, he had seen you all of two times, and he was enthralled. flabbergasted, too, surprised that a simple mortal managed to stay hidden in the deep parts of his brain and refuse to leave. you were… interesting, just as you had described him: not as a villain, or evil, or horrendous, but captivating; unbelieving that he would do anything for no good reason.

whether that was true or not was still up for debate, so he had yet to decide if you were incredibly intelligent or the simple, stupid mortal he thought you all to be. nevertheless, he found himself slightly disappointed when you left, waving goodbye to him and tucking your book under your arm. while he tried to dissolve the sensation, tony stark came bounding in, standing as close as he could to the glass barrier. stark barked words that loki didn’t care much for, ignoring the man. he could see you wince from inside the elevator, a sliver of your face still available from the closing doors.

“hey, hey!” stark barked, snapping his fingers at loki. the god tilted his head at him, “yes?” he asks, voice dripped in more annoyance than usual. “that girl who just came out of here?” stark started, while loki took a minute to examine his words, “girl,” was she not an accomplished avenger? he thought tony of all people would show the respect that loki thought none of them deserved. “if you even think about doing anything to her, i will bring in the big guy to slam you around some more. you remember him? or do you need a refresher?”

loki nearly scowls at the mention of hulk, body reminding the strange ache that was left after the oaf slammed him into the floor. he only chuckles lowly, though, “how much do you distrust a fellow avenger to believe they cannot handle themselves?” loki muses. tony scoffs, shaking his head, “i really don’t think you’re in a position to question me.”

“i’m a god. i am always in the position i wish to be in,” loki reminds, making tony roll his eyes, “you’ll never see her again if i can help it. and i can,” he says. “oh, but i like her!” loki rebuts, riling tony up, “so sweet, don’t you think?” tony freezes, abruptly turning around and slamming a hand against the glass, “you will not lay a hand on her. i’ll make sure of it.”

“i seem to remember midgardians can usually do as they please,” loki replies smoothly. “and you really think she’ll want to spend time with a monster?” tony questions. loki smirks, “i suppose i simply have a feeling.”

-

tony is seething when he comes to your lab, having switched with steve to come talk to you. you’re humming along to a song he doesn’t bother to recognize. “you’re in a good mood,” tony observes. at the sound of his voice, you turn, taking your earbuds out and grinning at him. you press what he assumes is the pause button on your phone, “tony! i’ve actually been meaning to ask you something,” you begin. tony raises an eyebrow to tell you to continue. “it’s about loki,” you continue, anxious about his reaction. the man pauses, exhaling softly, “oh. i know what you want to- i’m so sorry for doing that to you, y/n. i promised that i wouldn’t put you with him and we should’ve been more prepared. it won’t happen again.”

the confusion is clear on your face, vocally affirming it with a “huh?”

“that’s what you wanted to talk about, right? babysitting loki?”

“well, yes, but no, it actually wasn’t bad, i wanted to bring up the idea of maybe allowing him books? or maybe music or something, i can’t imagine going from having any book at your fingertips to none at all. also, he’s not getting enough food and i wanted to talk to you abou-” tony stops you with a raised hand, “what?” you recognize the conversation won’t end too well, so you try to phrase your words in a way that tony won’t get too angry at. “i just- when i was watching him, i thought we could be a little less… cruel.”

“with the guy who tried to take over earth?” tony retorts, you sigh softly, already beginning to feel resigned. “he still deserves to eat,” you defend weakly, “come on, tony, please? i’ll watch over him myself when he’s listening to music or reading or eating and i’ll take it back when i have to leave.” tony shakes his head, “someone will always be watching, and it won’t be you.” you frown, “why? don’t you trust me? i’m an avenger, tony. i’m not weak or useless, it’s just watching over someone who is literally in a cage. he can’t even escape.” tony’s about to say no again, so you press, “how come nick fury- man who doesn’t trust- trusts me enough to do that but you don’t?”

tony’s fingers squeeze the space between his eyebrows, eyes closed. he contemplates the effects if he refuses, no doubt ending in the thinning-by-the-minute thread that is your trust in him completely snapping.

“fine,” he finally agrees, and your frustrated frown melts back into a relieved small smile, “but everything you give him has to go through someone else first. i don’t care if it’s fury or hill or romanoff or me, but it has to be approved.” you nod quickly, “yes, of course.” tony raises a finger, “and, you will watch him the whole time. you got yourself into this, kid. i trust you can protect yourself from him if you ever need to.” you agree, “absolutely, and, uh-” you reach into your bag, pulling out the book finnegan’s wake, and your old ipod, equipped with a single downloaded song and earbuds plugged in. “i actually have already chosen a book and a song that i think he would appreciate during the time he tells me himself what he would like and while it gets approved, and um,” you push the objects toward tony, a surprised look lining his features, “since you have time now… the ipod has only that one song and i doubt he can do anything with either of the items, although i’ll be here if he does.”

“you picked these out for him?” tony questions, and you nod again, “i don’t really know him, i doubt anybody does, but i thought james joyce was a good guess considering.” tony looks from the objects in your hand back to you, before sighing and grabbing them. “i want to break free?” he asks, holding up the ipod. you feel your cheeks heat, “music is hard, i went for the obvious.”

tony exhales, looking down at the book, “fine, both are approved.”

“what, you’re not gonna check to see if i carved out a hole into the book and put the tesseract in there so he could escape?” you ask sarcastically, taking back the items while he rolls his eyes. “no, i trust you.” you grin, “you better. there’s no reason for you to not,” tony agrees with you softly, genuinely feeling bad while he kisses your cheek in goodbye. “steve was just called on a mission and needs a replacement, so you better get down there. bowser isn’t in a good mood today.”

you huff out a light laugh at the nickname, cradling your dear books and tangling your fingers in the cords of the earbuds while you walk to the elevator. you catch your bottom lip between your teeth while you watch the numbers blink above the elevator doors, nerves from your choices finally making a home in the pit of your stomach and making your grip tighten on the items. you really don’t know him, and one of the few things that you do know about him is that he isn’t the nicest- although you think it probable that it was warranted- which begins the inkling of regret of your carefully-picked choice to form. you try your best to push past it though, attempting to reassure yourself through the fact that loki’s reading options are limited, and as evil as everyone (including him) claims he is, you suspect (hope) that there is something in him that can’t simply disregard kind gestures. you suppose that theory is from what thor has told you about frigga. you hope it’s correct.

the elevator dings, knocking your thoughts off their destructive railroad and your attention to the shield guard wearily eyeing you and what you carry. “hey, wally,” you greet, shooting him a smile as you walk over to him, pulling your id card from your pocket. “what’cha got there?” he asks, sitting up straighter in his chair to look closer at you. “a- already approved by tony stark- book and song for loki. you know how much he had access to in asgard?” you question. he shakes his head, and you sigh, “me neither. but i imagine it’s a lot, and i don’t think he’s been introduced to our books yet.”

wally stares at you for a few seconds, before pursing his lips, “already approved by stark?” he checks, “already approved by tony,” you repeat. “just no ear things. don’t want him to choke somebody,” he instructs, holding out his hand. you oh quietly, hurriedly pulling off the headphones and putting them in his hand. wally only nods then, trusting you enough to not ask for any more reassurance, and pressing a button next to him to allow you into another elevator. the ride is much shorter, and you bounce on your heels, fidgeting with the edge of the book.

you barely recognize when the doors part, the slick-haired god already examining you. “in asgard, it is strongly discouraged to damage books like you are doing,” loki states. you stop your picking, dropping your hand and walking inside. “hello to you too, loki.” the god ignores you, instead focused on what is in your arms. “i thought any pleasantries for you weren’t allowed down here,” he says, eyes focused on your ipod. “ah, not if you ask nicely,” you reply, standing next to the chair, “and, these aren’t for me.”

you set your own book down on the floor- a very cliche wuthering heights, but it was either that or romeo and juliet, and you’d prefer not get caught reading about a forbidden romance while watching a villain- and hold up the one for him, grinning. “so i don’t know much about asgard or its books because thor hasn’t budged yet on taking me, but from what i can gather, you have little to no media from here, right?” loki ducks his chin suspiciously in response. “so i can imagine you haven’t read shakespeare, or james joyce, which reminds me a lot of you, so…”

you offer no more explanation, putting the book on your chair and showing him the ipod, walking closer to the glass. “this is an ipod. it’s used to play songs offline, and i picked one out for you. i don’t know if you’ll like it because i don’t really know what type of music you like or if you like it at all-” you pause, finally recognizing how long it had been since he’d talked. “but, uh, i hope you do.”

you look up at him then, unsurprised to find him already staring back at you. “you did this for me… why?” he queries skeptically. “i told you before; i imagine it’s difficult to go from everything to nothing in a day. and i think it must be boring to be trapped in there all day with nothing to do.”

loki still looks distrustful, but you grab the book, pulling out the key card to open his food slot. “i can’t leave these in here after i leave, but i’ll stay until you finish both,” you assure, pushing the book through the small gap. your ipod is still in your hands as you walk back near him. he looks at you for a few moments longer before his eyes flick to the book. “and there are no… explosives? poison of some kind in that?”

you shake your head, “no, of course not.”

loki narrows his eyes at the paperback anyways, walking towards it apprehensively. “when you want me to, i can teach you how the ipod works and you can listen to the song. it’s by a rock band called queen,” you babble, watching as he slowly observes the book before picking it up at an even more leisurely pace.

“i’m going to go sit over there now. just let me know if you need something,” you can’t seem to stop talking, so you focus instead on your legs moving you back to your seat, picking up your novel before sitting. you’re about to ramble on about something else again, until you notice the publication in loki’s hands, slightly panicking at the immediate rush of satisfaction and happiness it gives you when he opens the first page.

you try to avoid the sound of turning pages when you stay stuck on the same sentence, too concerned about why your neck decided to warm when the god accepted your favor.

“you can play it,” loki voices suddenly, almost as if reading the loud thoughts about your decision on the song. he looks up at you, “reading is usually accompanied by light music, but i suppose i could listen to rock.”

you nod, pressing a button on the small device that makes the beginning notes bounce off the walls of the room. your fingers gently tap along to the beat on the edge of your page without your noticing, too used to the melody to not react. you try not to look too hard at loki to watch for his reaction, too interested if he’ll like it or not.

after the first minute passes by and he doesn’t object to the sound, you count this as a win, allowing yourself to relax into your chair and actually read the words lined on the page, discovering them to make a lovely combination. you only notice when the song ends when loki speaks up, “it is okay,” he compliments, “i enjoyed it. i think i’d enjoy your so called queen.” you chuckle softly, “i thought you would. do you have any favorites here so i can add them for next time?”

“no,” loki responds, not taking his eyes off the page. “i’ll find some for you, then,” you promise, then press play on the ipod again, not missing the tiny quirk of loki’s lips, making you way too giddy than you should be.

-

after it has been over six hours and loki has barely finished finnegans wake, you’re completely sure he took extra time to read it; whether it be to absorb it better or simply have more time with it in his hands, you don’t care, pride swelling up in your chest because you did something right for him. he hadn’t complained about the repeated song, and you can’t blame him. the sounds are a lot more entertaining than the cold silence that usually occupies the space where he resides.

you ask loki more about what he thought, attempting to coerce him into telling you his preferences, until tony is calling you up.

you’re about to leave, both books and ipod in hand when you pause.

“y/n,” loki starts, and you realize it is the first time you’d hear your name out of his mouth. you decide you like how it sounds in his voice, not disregarding how you shouldn’t. “yes?” you answer instead, meeting his eyes. “thank you.”

you swallow, surprised at the genuinity in his voice while you nod, “it was no problem.”

loki finds it disturbing how much he dislikes seeing you walk away.

#loki laufeyson #loki friggason #mcu loki #reader x loki #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #mcu loki x reader #mcu loki x you #loki laufeyson imagine #loki layfeyson x reader #loki layfeyson imagine #loki laufeyson x you #tony stark #avengers x reader #avengers #avenger!reader

[iero0]

What if...you don't have to?

this is a gift by @gnarf​ and iero0 for the wonderful @ladderofyears​

Read on AO3

Something about him looked—off.

Harry hadn't seen Malfoy since the hearing where he spoke for him, resulting in Draco walking out of there a free man.

Now, only a few months later, Harry was back at Hogwarts for his eighth year, not knowing what else he should do. And Malfoy was also back.

But this wasn't Malfoy. He kept his head low, refused to speak to anyone, and always sat alone. He was nothing but a ghost of his former self. And on top of it he also looked off. Not as bad as in their sixth year, but still—something was different about him.

Just before Christmas it became obvious, even for Harry, what was going on.

Malfoy's belly had swollen since they had come back. He had tried to hide it under baggy clothes and wide cloaks, but it had come to a point where he couldn't hide it anymore.

Draco Malfoy was pregnant. And Harry's mind was blown.

The rumors didn't take long to spread all over the castle. Whispered words about the father, getting more and more ridiculous with every day. Draco ignored them all, not reacting to any of it. He only walked away, head hanging low, a blank expression on his face.

Harry would maybe fall victim to the rumors, if he hadn't seen things others were too blind to see.

When Draco felt unwatched, there was only the tiniest hint of a smile gracing his lips as he looked down at his ever growing belly. Harry had seen Draco touch it with wonder in his eyes, before his face returned to the mask he wore for everyone else.

This child was already loved, even though nobody wanted to see it.

Hermione reminded him everyday that this wasn't his problem, nothing he was supposed to deal with. But Harry couldn't agree, he felt himself getting pulled towards the other. Maybe out of curiosity, or that’s what he’d love to believe. But most likely because Draco was always alone. Through all of it. Nevertheless, he stayed at a distance, observing from afar, but always aware where the other one was.

That all changed within a split second. Draco was walking further ahead of him, and if Harry had looked down, he wouldn't have seen the hands appearing from behind a tapestry to pull Draco into the secret passageway rather forcefully.

Feeling anger boil in his chest Harry started to run.

He got there just in time to punch whomever the arshole pointing his wand at Draco was right in the face, hard enough to sprain his wrist. But that didn't stop him to bend down and help Draco up.

Trying to suppress the fury he felt, Harry locked eyes with Draco. "We need to get you to Madam Pomfrey. Did he hurt you?"

Still in shock, Draco shook his head. "I'm fine, I don't need to—"

"Nope. I'll take you there. What a fucking prick."

"I'm honestly surprised it took this long," Draco sighed as he finally accepted Harry's offered hand to get up.

Humming, Harry pointed his wand at the arsehole on the floor, using the fact that he was still knocked out, and cast a full body bind at him. "Let's get you checked. Come on."

Hesitating for a second, Draco took a deep breath, before he followed Harry out of the passageway and towards the Hospital Wing.

Once there, Harry guided him to an empty bed and asked Madam Pomfrey to look after Draco first, ignoring the pain pulsing through his arm. It was entirely worth it. Harry would make sure the guy who attacked Draco would get suspended.

Harry thought his mood couldn't get any worse. How wrong he was.

Draco had to stay the night, just to be safe, while Harry was allowed to leave after Madam Pomfrey had fixed his wrist. What he hadn't expected was the huge throng of people lingering near the Hospital Wing once he got to leave.

Cursing under his breath, Harry turned around and smashed the door shut behind him, marching back to Draco's bed where he spelled the curtains shut and blocked Madam Pomfrey out with a Muffliato.

"What the—" Draco started, but Harry held up his hand before he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I have a few questions. Give me a second…" Harry felt his thoughts racing through his mind. Draco wasn't safe, not here, not with all those nosey people lingering outside believing the rumors. Taking a deep breath, Harry looked at Draco on the bed, allowing his eyes to drift down to Draco's belly for the first time.

Sitting down on the bed, Harry hoped this wouldn't go wrong. "There's a lot of people out there. And also a lot of rumors about you and your baby. I don't think you're safe, so I have to—is the father still in the picture?"

Crossing his arms over his chest, Draco glowered at him. "No. And I don't know how that's any of your business, Potter."

"I agree. It's not any of my business. But I'm really trying to help you here. So, no father, you're alone?"

"I'm capable of dealing with this on my own. I don't see how this is supposed to help me. If you don't mind, Pomfrey said I have to rest," Draco spat.

"Just—one second, please. Okay," Harry felt a headache coming. Draco would surely kill him, so it didn't really matter how he said it as long as he did. "I know you can deal with this on your own. I know you're not a damsel in distress. But what if—"

"What if what, Potter? What if they attack me again? What if I get hurt for real next time? I hardly think that's going to happen, you've been following me wherever I go." Draco rolled his eyes at him. "You're hard to miss."

"What if you wouldn't have to do this alone?" Harry burst out. "I follow you, yes. I knew this wouldn't end well, people are—what if we tell them they're mine? That I got you pregnant. We met for a drink after the hearing, and one thing led to the other—I follow you anyway. This could put an end to this."

Harry held his breath as he watched Draco's face flicker through a wide band of emotions, until it settled on something resembling distrust at best. "Why the fuck would you even do this? Me and my child are not of your concern, Potter."

"I know. But…" Harry groaned, annoyed. "Just let me help you. At least until Hogwarts is over. You'll need a babysitter for the exams, and nobody would dare to tell me off for asking for a reschedule of my exam times if they overlap with yours. And people wouldn't dare touch you if we told them—"

"You know that's insane, right?"

"Yes."

"And you know that it'll be all over the Prophet by tomorrow morning."

"As if I'd give a shit," Harry huffed.

"You know the entire world will believe that you're the father of my child until the end of times."

"Then so be it. I don't care. We can work this out later if we have to."

Sighing, Draco let his fingers grace over his belly. "Okay. Fine. I only want for them to be safe. If that means telling the world Saint Potter is their father then so be it."

"It's Harry," Harry grinned widely. "Not Saint Potter. Or Potter."

"Fine, Harry. Thank you for ruining your life for the little bean and myself."

"I hardly think a child can ruin my life. I'll pick you up tomorrow morning when you get released."

Draco's answering smile was all he needed to know that this was worth every struggle he'd have to face.

Standing up Harry removed the spells around Draco's bed. Leaving the Hospital Wing, he glared at everyone waiting out there, before announcing loudly that he'd personally kill each and everyone who ever tried to harm his child again.

Ignoring the reactions, Harry bounced off to McGonagall's office to get the arsehole waiting in the passageway removed from the school.

Read on AO3

#drarry #drarry mpreg #pregnant draco #drarry eighth year #gnraf fic #iero0 art #draco x harry #<3 #for our Emma

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

My friend is a big fan of you as well and asked me to request this:

A Janus fic based on the song Monster by Dev https://youtu.be/5iA_oFDNt9E

I think the song could fit him quite well, maybe with the others being like “out of all of us, h i m???”

-🦑

Songfic?? With Janus angst?? My time has come *ascends*

CW: Unsympathetic Light Sides (they're not assholes but they're basically unsupportive, concerned for Reader, and hateful/distrustful of Janus)

...........

Call the doctor, call the doctor Must be something wrong with me He's a monster, why do I want ya Please tell me, please tell me

"What?!! [Y/n] this..this cannot possibly be true!"

"Roman-"

"You could've had any one of the fine gentlemen here...but more importantly me.."

"Roman, just calm-"

"And yet you chose him?! That wretched slimy snake?!" The princely Side pointed rudely at Janus, who was just sitting on the couch beside you. He frowned as he fiddled with the chain of his capelet, finding more interest in that than the uncomfortable conversation currently taking place.

This wasn't even the direction you nor him expected it to take. It was already going south..straight towards hell.

All because Remus couldn't keep his mouth shut and blurted out the revelation that you and Janus were dating.

Ironically, he was the one who confessed to you first--something that you're certain no Side would ever believe.

"There's got to be something wrong with your head." Roman shook his head in dismay, before approaching you. "Come now. We'll find you a true Prince Charming! One that's not a vile fibber like-"

Suddenly you sprang up, moving away from him. "You don't get to choose who I fall in love with. Remus.." You glared at the dark half of creativity. "I'm gonna kick your ass if you don't leave right now."

"Do ya promise~?" He giggled, refusing to acknowledge the seriousness of the situation. "You know I'm into that."

"Let it go, [y/n]." Janus tried to assure you. "They're both bumbling fools."

"A fool?!" Roman gasped. "The only fool here is YOU!! Trying to tempt them with your false promises of love and affection! What do you know about romance?!"

"Apparently more than you." You interrupted, standing by your lover in a defensive manner. "I know this isn't exactly how I planned to tell you but god just calm down for a minute."

You definitely didn't anticipate this kind of freakout from him. You thought he'd be asking about the how's and when's of falling in love, as one would expect from the "romantic expert" of the Sides.

You had a plan to tell all of them individually, but..starting with the guy who was deceived most and openly mocked his name probably wasn't a good idea.

Eventually the two halves of creativity left you both alone. And only then did you sit back down next to the now-dejected Janus, holding his hand. "Sorry you had to hear all that."

"Oh don't worry, it'sss new to me." He muttered, squeezing your hand in turn. "I'm sure Roman will have a tough time realizing he's definitely the most handsome one around here." The smirk he gave made you chuckle.

"Yeah, well..he'll get over it. We got off on the wrong foot with him, but I'm sure the others will be more accepting."

He's a monster He's a monster That boy, he's a motherfucking monster But I love him, yeah I love him Ooh ah, ooh ah ah

"Seriously? That guy?"

"Just hear me out, Virgil-"

"Oh I've heard plenty. I'm just warning you that it's a bad idea." Virgil huffed as he put his phone down. "He's a monster who's gonna use you for some selfish gain. You've seen it. He only cares about himself and hurts people to keep it that way."

"I know you've known him longest but...I'm pretty sure at this point he's moved past all of that." You pointed out. "Honestly, the only one being hurt here is him. First Roman, and now you?"

Despite your arguments, he just didn't seem convinced. "I'm not doing this to give you anxiety...I can only do that to Thomas. And I'm not gonna say "breakup with him right now". I'm just telling you that he's not what he seems."

"I appreciate your worries, but I love him and that's that." You insisted, crossing your arms over your chest as you stood defiant. Obviously it was in his nature to tell you to stay cautious, and he'd probably say the same if you were dating anyone else.

But calling Janus a monster seemed awfully harsh. You haven't even heard him call Remus that, which was odd.

'Seriously why is he being such a prick?'

"..whatever you say." Virgil shrugged before sinking out, leaving you alone by the staircase.

"I wouldn't worry. His opinion of me has never changed."

You realized Janus was eavesdropping and turned to face him, sighing. "Jan, are you doing something that's making them be so... brutally honest? This just seems unusual for them."

"Not that I'm aware of." He had briefly removed his glove, indicating he was tell you the truth.

"Hm..then again, Roman and Virgil are sorta the least-rational ones. One's jealous that he doesn't have a date and the other overthinks a lot."

"Wonderful observations, my dear."

"Patton and Logan are more down-to-earth and clear-headed so they might have more understanding."

"I'm sure they will." Janus' tone didn't match the optimistic words he uttered as he slipped the glove back on. "Oh and..I'll try not eavesdrop anymore."

Little did you know, that would be two lies.

Most people are scared When they look him in the eyes, all they see is fear (but) Let me make this clear I want him near

"How can you look into his eyes and..and.."

"Go on."

"And not be scared?! I know I would be, kiddo."

"...Patton, is that seriously your only argument? That he looks creepy?"

"No, no! I just..." For a moment the fatherly Side paused, before he sighed and patted your shoulder. "Listen, I do think you're being a good influence on that wriggly snake but...I only worry he's being a bad influence on you. Every time he's near you I-"

"It sounds like your only argument is "he's a creepy crawly snake so I shouldn't trust or love him". Is that all?"

"It's...a bit more complicated than-"

"It's a yes or no, Pat."

"...I'm trying to look at the bigger picture and, sure there's some good in him but..I worry he's gonna hurt you in the end, that's all. Like he hurt us several times by impersonating us." He tried to reason, but you just brushed his hand off your shoulder in disbelief.

"Wow, I didn't think you'd be one to judge books by their covers." You frowned slightly. "Well let me make this clear: I want him near me. I feel safe around him. I love him, outward appearances and all. So if you can't accept the way I see him then...we're done here."

With no more defenses, Patton sank out as you left the room. But in the hallway you spotted a familiar capelet vanish around the corner, and you found Janus, who manifested a brown eye contact over his snake eye. His scales almost vanished under his skin, but you called out to him before they could disappear entirely.

"Janus? I thought you weren't going to-"

"I..n-never expected Patton of all people to say that.." He held the side of his face shakily, keeping his head lowered so you didn't see the gradually forming tears. Only now he was starting to feel the impact of everyone's words. "If..it's my looks then...I can surely make adjusssstments.."

"No, sweetheart. You don't have to change your looks or be anyone else for me." You cupped a hand over the one that still covered the scales. "C'mon. You can't seriously believe Patton's dumb reasoning, right?"

"........."

All you got was a silent nod.

Most people can't sleep Feeling he's out, on the streets (but) He is my creep He is my creep

"While I see your relationship to Janus is beneficial-"

"Actually, nevermind. You're just gonna tell me the same shit everyone else did."

"...now [y/n], remember what we've discussed on cognitive distortions-"

"Jumping to conclusions? Overgeneralizing? I know. But I have valid reasons for those. You all think Janus is gonna hurt me because he's some "freaky selfish snake". But he's not, alright? He's been more truthful with me lately and I'm sick of the others not believing anything we say. So please, Logan..can you take my side for once?"

Logan was surprised by your outburst. He didn't even know you've talked to the others about Janus and assumed he'd respond in a similar fashion.

But he adjusted his glasses and looked at his notebook, all traces of emotion vanishing. "Logic can't take sides. If you would just listen..I've observed that your interactions with him have been generally positive, and that's helped Thomas-"

"There you go again..why does everything always gotta lead back to Thomas? Can't you just recognize Janus as his own person without assuming I'm only dating him to help-?"

"Because he can't be distracted from his core function!!"

You jumped a bit as he slammed down the notebook, scowling at you with a slight orange tinge behind his glasses. Though it was quick to disappear as he sighed. "He can never be his own person. You two will never have a truly normal relationship. I only advise that you keep that in the back of your mind."

And just like that, he left.

Every discussion you've had with a "Light" Side only left the bitter taste of frustration in your mouth...

Now what should you-?

You were startled again as you heard a nearby door slam shut, before realizing who overheard this conversation.

"Shit."

Is he human, does it matter I know he's what I'm after I can reel him, from disaster I know

"So..th-that's how they all see me, huh? A monster..n-not even a person."

"Jan.." Joining your boyfriend on the king-sized mattress, decorated in black and gold much like himself, you could finally see those walls he built up now crumbling to pieces.

One way or another, he heard what every Side had to say about him. And it was more than enough for him to realize they not only shun him for simply existing..

But they refuse to accept the idea that he's worthy of love, too. He can take the name-calling and insults in the videos, but this is what truly broke him.

He just scratched at his scales, his human eye already red and raw from crying as he wondered why you went through all of this just for him.

Any sane person would listen to the others and just breakup with him. He wasn't worth the effort.

You clearly deserved better.

You deserved someone who's more handsome, chill, kindhearted, or sensible-

"I know you can't truly be human but..does it matter?"

"...does it?" He sniffled, leaning into your touch more as you ran a hand through his hair. "Because apparently not. I know I'm not a perfect, flawless individual..I-I don't expect any of us to be. But if only I-I never-"

"Jan..you can't focus on what you can't change. I know you feel guilty, and if the others can't see that...it's their own fault. I won't stop fighting for us and for your happiness. I love you, okay?" Turning to him fully, you cupped both sides of his face and looked into his eyes.

"And in case you think I'm lying, I'll say it again: I. Love. You. None of their words will change that."

Hearing you become so determined to love him despite all odds made him sob again, this time from relief, as you put your arms around him.

Nobody's ever taken his side on anything...and certainly never defended him the way you did.

You felt several extra arms manifest to hug you back, and you smiled, closing your eyes.

Maybe in time the others will understand. But while it's true he looked like a monster and had his deceitful ways..

You knew what you were after.

And so did he.

Call the doctor, call the doctor Must be something wrong with me He's a monster, why do I want ya Please tell me, please tell me

#clanask #squid anon #sanders sides x reader #sanders sides imagine #janus sanders x reader #janus sanders #angst #hurt/comfort #songfic

[i-did]

I would like to hear more of your opinions on fandom depictions of Neil, if you don't mind! Your post made me realize some things I wasn't even aware of when reading aftg fic!!

Yeah sure I have a lot of thoughts on this. I think this is an overall fandom issue and not just an aftg fandom issue, but the feminization of neil as well as the ironing out of his personality to make it more palatable is definitely a thing.

I've noticed in a lot of fics hes a lot friendlier, a lot less distrusting, and a lot more oblivious. I also noticed the amount of demand for vixen neil, and neil in dresses and skirts and crop tops, neil crying and being vulnerable isn't a challenge on traditional masculinity because andrew and the other guy foxes don't receive nearly the same amount of demand.

There is heavy emphasis on people wanting not just neil but andrew to be softer, and while that's okay, it's important to remember the moral of aftg is that trauma makes some people hard, and intense and not traditionally likeable, and that those people aren't broken and don't need to be fixed. So when people just, ignore that and make andrew and neil a lot softer, neil always sitting in andrews lap and other things, lots of expressions of PDA, and other out of charter moments, it erases the idea nora was trying to convey.

I've stated before about how the fandom also often doesn't mention body hair but when it does its andrew having facial hair and neil having less typically, but also there is usually emphasis on andrew having a deeper voice than neil, who sometimes gets written almost as whiney and petulant or pouty.

-nsft text below-

I also think there is an overall lack of understanding of mlm culture in fandom which is largely a women's space. I won't go into detail here but how pwp is written (especially a lot of the trans andrew or neil ones) are not with a mlm gaze in mind, after all if it was proper gay porn then only mlm would be turned on by it, but the consumer in mind isn't mlm at all, both because the authors are almost always not mlm, but the readers aren't as well. There is emphasis on neil being more vocal and whining, mewling, whimpering, and moaning, all common in how straight porn treats the woman, while andrew is emphasized in being a lot more quiet, maybe grunting and groaning.

Lingerie is not common in gay porn outside of fanfiction, jock straps?? Thats a thing thats a huge thing, but in all the pwp I've seen of them in their exy gear I haven't seen it mentioned before, not a cup or jock strap or anything like that.

Neil is also the one being put into the lingerie and there is emphasis on him feeling pretty rather than handsome and him being petite and slim rather than a bulky athlete

There is also an overall lack in realism in preparation and dynamics that are physically impossible or unsafe but thats a whole other thing.

This is just off of the top of my head, I can get into the fetishization of trans andrew fics another time thats a whole other thing, but yeah this is just my unprepared thoughts and observations I've noticed.

Fanart also tends to lack the men having bulges, i respect trans hc but i have possibly never seen a flaccid penis in running shorts neil is wearing. They don't go away they sit there and take up space.

-end nsft text-

I have more to say when it comes to the dealings with trauma in fanfiction but for another time. I also have a huge rant about how fanon deals with the race in fics, both nickys canon race as well as the fanon everyone else's race

Overall, people can write what they want to write, and fiction is fiction and i cannot stop anyone from doing anything, and people can interpret the characters how they want. But when writing fiction, the authors own biases can slip though, the charters are written by them after all. An author who writes a torture scene isnt someone who has done that, but an author who writes let's say nicky as even more predatory, slutty, stereotypically gay and "ayeyeyye" in fanfic is unknowingly being racist and homophobic.

A person existing in real life fitting steryotypes is one thing, I've been told like once a week that im stereotypically gay since I've been alive, and have been under a lot of fire for being both "too mexican" and "not mexican enough" but an author who is not mlm and is white can still fall into these pre conceived notions they don't realize they have. There is no such thing as a real life queer couple being heteronormative, but someone else writing one can be because they're not real people, they're characters.

Why does this dynamic appeal to you? Are you projecting? In what way? Why do you think x character is more passive and y is more aggressive? Are they like that in canon ?

When quarantine started I threw myself into aftg even more, but quickly became depressed and felt gross and watched, I felt lonely as an mlm and isnt white in a dominantly white wlw/wlm fandom. Most of tumblr is queer white women dominant tbh, in the same way its American dominant, and fandom is like that too. I still have a hard time talking to my friends who aren't mlm about fandom stuff sometimes because I will tell them something bothers me and I'm not sure they understand or take it seriously. I was so depressed because my personal escapism was making me feel worse.

My depression has gotten better since then, but I still get very uncomfortable with the word "twink" being applied to not just neil, but now any queer man, especially when not said by someone mlm.

Okay I'm gonna stop here lol this was a longer ramble than planned. Ah. Don't cancel me don't twist my words I swear I don't care what others do this is just my observations

#aftg #all for the game #neil josten #andrew minyard #the foxhole court #tfc #andreil #fandom politics #ask #mailob #fandom psychology

[animeyanderelover]

Hi! Regarding my revision request, can you do same theme like previous one (minato in poly relationship/marriage with kushina and fem uzumaki s/o) also kushina love s/o as younger sister. Thank you!

You wanted Kushina not married to Minato and as a platonic Yandere, right?

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, obsessiveness, clingyness, manipulation, bullying, blackmailing

Uzumaki s/o who’s like a sister for Kushina

⚡️🌶It’s a bit understandable that Kushina would be that way given the fact that you two came from the same village and were chosen as the next two jinchuriki. I guess in the end it wouldn’t even matter too much whether you two knew each other from before or not. If you two did, you would of course be already very close. If you didn’t know each other before, you would become really close over the following years. You two are the only ones who can understand each other and relate to each other and next to that you two thought at that time that everyone else would just make fun of the two of you.

⚡️🌶Kushina is even as a platonic Yandere protective, very much. And especially if you’re getting mocked and teased for your hair she sees...well, she sees red. She didn’t even care that much that she was getting bullied, she was only concerned about you. She saw you as her sister and you most likely as hers too so it was understandable that you two were seen together all of the times. And we had in here those meanies again who made fun of it. Not like it ended well for them if they mocked you or, Jashin forbid it, pulled on your hair. Because then they got to experience a scary Kushina.

⚡️🌶Kushina was due to her overprotectiveness extremely observing of her surroundings and so noticed rather quickly a certain blonde head in her class who kept staring at the two of you, especially you. She kept every bully in mind and couldn’t recall having ever seen him around. But to be frankly, she didn’t trust anyone in this class so she took it that he was more of a silent and timid guy who just disliked you two from the distance. It led her to snapping every time a bit at him when she caught him staring at you again, pulling you protectively closer to her and glaring kunai his way.

⚡️🌶He never seemed to really dare to approach you though, even though Kushina suspected he badly wanted to do so. She had actually no problem with him staying away like this from you except if he liked you which she started to suspect was more the case. But if that was true, he should come to you and not keep staring like a weirdo. That was cowardly to do and next to that that would be by a long shot not enough, not with Kushina as your best friend and sister, not by blood, but by love.

⚡️🌶Now let’s just pretend that instead of Kushina, you were kidnapped and saved by Minato who had followed you due to the traces of your red hair you had left behind. You most likely knew him as the ‘creep who kept staring at you’, as Kushina always called him. But you might have most likely also suspected that he liked you and on that night he talked for the first time to you, telling you that he thought that your hair was beautiful and apologizing for not having been faster to save you and just standing all the time by and watching you and Kushina suffering. He would from now on be there.

⚡️🌶In the meantime Kushina felt like she was ready to kill, blaming it on the village and the shinobi that they had let it happen in the first place, all because no one liked them due to their hair and position as jinchuriki. It was not fair! She was most likely also already on her own search for you, not trusting the shinobi from the village to have enough motivation to find you since they hadn’t even realize yet. So you can only imagine the shock and relief hitting her like a shower of bricks the moment she saw Minato and you walking together home. She just pushed Minato aside and was all over you, ignoring his presence completely.

⚡️🌶But at the very least she thanked him later on, although also scolding him for never having done anything before despite him liking you and her, in another way, and also thinking of your hair as pretty. She told him that this was just such a cowardly move for which he had to apologize a couple of times before she seemed to calm down a bit.

⚡️🌶Afterwards he started to make up for the time he had just watched and done nothing, now he was there and always lectured people who made comments and fun of you two for which Kushina and you learned to respect and view him as a friend of yours. Now, Kushina was still more dubious of him during the earlier phrase of this friendship due to not trusting him completely yet. She did know that he liked you really and her in a friend-like way so she didn’t distrust him in a way that she thought he would betray you two. But more because she knew he liked you. She had never considered the thought of someone else playing possibly an important role in your life. So far it had always been you and her and she wanted it to stay that way. She felt threatened and jealous in a way and it caused her to be the first few weeks a bit salty around Minato. And whenever you two spent time without her, she sulked afterwards for quite some time until you came back and told her she was the best.

⚡️🌶That changed of course after her and Minato became close as well, the boy noticed most likely that Kushina wasn’t exactly happy with him as the newest addition to your and her old duo which was now a trio. He was genuinely interested in her as well and wanted to be closer to her, he wanted to be her friend. She kind of refused at first and this rebellious and jealous act of hers was noticed by you as well and it saddened you most likely a bit. You wanted both of them to be friends since you liked both of them.

⚡️🌶It led to Minato pointing it out to Kushina which had noticed by now as well that you were upset due to her way of acting around Minato. And the last thing she wanted was making you sad, especially if you were because of her. So she became reluctantly more willing to spent time with him and get to know him better in hopes of getting along with him. And in the end they found a point to bond over which was you. Both of them cared a lot for you in different ways and no matter how bad any future arguments seemed to be, the moment one of those two brought up that you would be not happy when seeing them like this, they stopped and found a less intense method to solve the problem. Most of the arguments were anyways not something serious, but more over something silly which made you more giggle than laugh.

⚡️🌶So Kushina came over time to the terms of accepting Minato and seeing him as one of the very few persons she was actually okay sharing with. She of course still became jealous when he wanted to spend too much time with you since she needed her time with you as well, but the fact that she wasn’t scaring him as often and much as other people was sign enough for Minato that she liked him.

⚡️🌶Much more on the contrary, she started shipping you two, even more when noticing that you had started to like him too. It was no surprise, Minato is a handsome and charming man who can make everyone swoon over him. Was totally excited when you told her that you had feelings for him, but weren’t sure how to tell him. She wanted you two by now to get together and she also wanted to help so the longer Minato seemed to hesitate to confess to you, the more frustrated she became, the hair-pulling kind of frustration.

⚡️🌶The moment her string of patience snaps she’s the type to just walk over to him and threaten him to just tell you before she does it herself or before you might lose interest and get tired of him. He’s the only one she’s okay with dating you so he better move his ass and tell you before she drags him personally to you. It’s an effective method, especially when she manages to scare him.

⚡️🌶Both of them team up a lot for you and are also fine with spending time with you together, but both need time with you alone as well. And in that point it can get kind of tricky sometimes since both are clingy and as soon as you’re with one, the other starts to miss you dearly. But at the very least they have understanding for that and also don’t compete over you to find out how you like better. Kushina is also protective over the relationship you two have since it makes you happy and it somewhat leads her to scaring other girls after Minato away. Minato on the other hand is also protective over Kushina’s bond with you since she was from the earliest days there for you.

⚡️🌶She respects Minato and trusts him with you, but she also doesn’t care much to shout at him if he manages to upset you. Doesn’t matter if he’s already Hokage or not. Luckily the chances for that to happen are very, very small.

⚡️🌶The only scenario where her and Minato might get in a serious fight with each other is the moment you would want to leave him and he has to resort, as a last way, to blackmailing and bribing you. That’s the only occasion where she’ll be truly mad and pissed off. It’s still a bad situation for her since she knows that she’s in the disadvantage since he’s the Hokage and she also sees him as her best friend which hurts her even more if this should happen. Because she trusted him and thought he was better. For Minato this is still not easy either, he sees Kushina as his best friend as well and knowing that both Uzumaki’s are now upset and hurt because of him just pains him as well.

#yandere naruto #yandere naruto shippuden #yandere minato #yandere minato namikaze #yandere kushina #yandere kushina uzumaki #platonic yandere

[winetae]

wall to wall (m.) 02

— female reader x hoseok

— smut, porn star!au

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

— 19.7k 

… 

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

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

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

part 01 | part 02 | part 03

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

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

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

.

.

.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.

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

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

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

“Shit, sorry!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Since you last dicked me down, goes unsaid.

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t—”

“My treat.”

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

It’s that easy.

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

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

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

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

Your eyes meet.

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

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

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

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

“Oh.”

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

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

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

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

An awkward silence ensues.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Next time.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I was with Hoseok, actually.”

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

You contemplate ending the call.

Begrudgingly you concur, “Yes. That one.”

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

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

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

“How so?”

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

“Wh- Are you serious?!”

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

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

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

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

Seokjin understands and empathizes with your excitement more than anybody.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s just that...the timing is bad.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

.

.

.

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

Director Ryu vehemently protests.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, Hoseok.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You changed up your hair.”

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

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

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

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

Your smile becomes stiff.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hoseok’s features soften.

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

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

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

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

“...So, you dance?”

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

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

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

“Here’s a recent one.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well... I guess I—”

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

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

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

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

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

“Is something on your mind?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Someone behind you gags dramatically. “Absolutely sickening.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His gaze sweeps over the clipboard sitting in his hands.

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

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

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

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

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

“Yep.”

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

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

“Oh! Yes, that sounds fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You catch your bottom lip between your teeth, your gaze dropping to the floor in order to avert his probing stare. “I - um. I haven’t had - I mean, I guess I’ve been stressed lately. More pent up than usual. I’ve tried exercising and meditating and mas- uh...well everything, honestly. But nothing seems to work. I’m snappy all the time and...frustrated.”

Today, the character you’re playing is a bit more bashful, too timid to voice her desires into spoken words. “It’s all about the tension! The build-up!” Director’s Ryu’s voice echoes in your mind as a reminder.

“I see,” Hoseok nods, taking your comments into consideration. “On a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate the quality of your sleep?”

“A five...” you say after a moment’s hesitation. “I don’t wake up during the night, but it takes me a long time to fall asleep.”

“Do you feel any pain anywhere?”

“Pain? No, not really.” You roll your shoulders back, conscious of the way your perky chest juts out, nipples prominent through the cheap fabric. “My neck does feel sore from time to time but I think it’s because I work an office job. They say staying hunched over in front of a computer all day is bad for your health.”

His gaze roams your figure, quietly assessing. “It is.”

“May I?” he asks, taking a tentative step closer. “I think I’ll need to gauge your level of sensitivity for myself. We’ll adjust the intensity of the massage depending on how much pressure you can withstand and how your body reacts to different types of stimuli.”

Your brows lift. “Oh. Sure, why not.”

“Move back a little. A bit more.” You obey his instructions without second thoughts. “That’s perfect, thank you.”

Your legs dangle awkwardly over the edge of the massage table. You can probably close them if you wanted to, but you don’t miss an opportunity to expose yourself in front of the cameras. The shorts you’re wearing are more like tiny scraps of denim put together with the help of a few stitches. You’re certain that if someone were to really look, they’d see the outline of your pussy lips.

Hoseok walks around the table to stand behind you. The sensation is somewhat familiar—right away, you’re reminded of the first encounter with Hoseok, the one where he’d wrapped his arms around you and whispered words of love into your ear. You close your eyes and let the images flash by in quick succession. The memories all come rushing in at once—an artist’s lips painting your skin like a brush would canvas, a potter’s agile fingers molding your body from clay, a lyricist’s tongue composing sonnets into your weeping, open cunt. Your body remembers it all.

When he finally touches you, his hands radiate warmth the shadow of his memory does not.

A shudder runs down your spine.

Oblivious to your inner thoughts, Hoseok carefully gathers your hair into a ponytail and moves it out of the way. His mobility no longer restricted, he lets his slender digits travel down the slope of your neck, the pads of his fingers digging into the meat of your shoulders.

“You’re unusually tense here.” Concern colors his voice as he increases the pressure.

Suddenly the discomfort you’re to convey to the audience is no longer feigned. “Ow!”

The wince that mars your face is authentic. You try to wiggle out of his grasp to relieve the sharp ache in your shoulders. Hoseok’s grip is strong, however, and he keeps you exactly where he thinks you ought to be.

“Hmm...”

He massages your arms one by one. The circular movements he traces across your skin are a lot more gentle this time around, and you allow yourself to slowly relax under his touch. He manipulates your body like one would a rag doll, pulling your arm over your head.

“Can you reach behind, towards your neck? How about a little lower? You should feel a stretch here.” He taps at an arm muscle.

“Yeah… I can definitely feel it.”

You suspect that Hoseok’s stunt as a Pilates instructor is what’s helping him sound so experienced and natural.

“Good.” He lets out a pleased hum. “Hold the position for as long as you can.”

His hands reach around your body to squeeze your perky breasts. You gasp at the rather rough way he handles your tits. Perhaps it’s because you’ve been told to forgo a bra, but you’re much more conscious of his every action - from the way his fingers splay out, cupping the fullness of your breasts between them, to the way he kneads your mounds with his entire palm as he gropes you from behind.

“How often do you masturbate?” he asks in an almost offhand manner, his tone is more clinical than casual. The question is crude and direct enough to distract you from the way his fingers encircle your nipples through the cotton fabric of your shirt.

You recall Ryu’s earlier directions: unlike your first movie together, this tryst is not romantic in nature. The scenario that you’re acting out this time doesn’t involve sweet kisses and whispered declarations of love. Feelings aren’t on the table.

You pretend like the bitter taste you swallow down isn’t disappointment.

“Um.” You struggle to remember the initial question. Luckily, your mental buffering comes off as bashful and true to the character you’re playing. “I, uh, I guess masturbate often?”

“But it isn’t enough, is it?”

His question comes off as slightly patronizing. Before you can formulate a suitable answer, Hoseok’s fingers tweak your hardened nipples and your back bows under the pressure. You oscillate between the desire to thrust your chest out in offering, and the pressing need to flee the sharp sensations his skilled hands provoke.

“I - um!” You squirm helplessly as he continues playing with your breasts. “It isn’t!”

“Just as I thought.” He pinches both of your nipples and pulls at them until you cry out in half-pain, half-pleasure. The thin material of your shirt doesn’t dull the ache; if anything, the cotton scratches your skin, rubbing the nubs raw.

Despite your very visible discomfort, Hoseok doesn’t let go. You can only sit there obediently while he has his fun, knowing that if you wiggle too much it’ll only worsen the pain.

“Ah!”

Only then does he release them. You fight against the urge to cover your sore nipples. Your flimsy shirt hadn’t provided any protection against his rough onslaught, none at all.

“You’re quite sensitive,” he observes, giving your breasts one last squeeze.

Finished with his appraisal, he steps away and picks his clipboard up. He makes his way around the massage table, coming back into view, and scribbles something onto the paper with a ballpoint pen. He looks so absorbed in his work that you almost fall for the act.  

You worry your bottom lip, crossing your arms over your chest self-consciously. Without a bra, your hardened nipples are clearly visible through the thin shirt. They jut out in a distracting way; Hoseok’s eyes drop down for a split-second in appreciation before flickering back to the clipboard in his hands.

“Your body is wound up. It’s tense in places it shouldn’t be.”

“Is that...a bad thing?”

“No. Your case is not abnormal.” He shakes his head and offers you a reassuring smile. “Although... Hm. When was the last time you achieved an an orgasm?”

You look away, mumbling your answer in an embarrassed voice. “Last night.”

More scribbling. He taps the end of the pen against his chin, pretending to be lost in thought.

His eyes glint when he asks, “How many times did you cum?”

It’s not real - none of this is - and yet you can feel warmth spreading from your cheeks down to your chest. It’s a strange sensation, stuck somewhere between humiliation and arousal, and it makes your entire body heat up from the inside out.

“Just - Just once…”

“Look at me.”

Your eyes snap towards his on command. He looks relaxed, unbothered, like he’s discussing the weather forecast and not your masturbation habits. You want to look away but something in his stare pins you in place.

“You’re telling me the truth, right?”

“Yes! I’m not - I wouldn’t lie.”

“Good.” He smiles pleasantly, nodding to himself. “So. You came once. Did you use your fingers? Or, perhaps, a toy?”

He’s still staring at you, forcing you to look him straight in the eyes while you confess your sins. Your thighs clench together and you struggle to focus on the conversation at hand.

“F-fingers.” Your breathing becomes ragged as you imagine Hoseok’s fingers replacing your imaginary ones. They’d fill you up nicely, too. Compared to your own, they’re longer, capable of reaching places yours can’t. All you’d have to do is hook your arms under your knees and keep your legs spread wide open. He doesn’t even need to take your clothes off; he could pull the seam of your shorts and underwear to the side and fuck you just like that. “I only used my fingers.”

He raises an eyebrow like he doesn’t quite believe you. Somehow, that makes the fire between your legs burn hotter. It’s like - he knows you’re too cockhungry to settle for just fingers. And if a mere stranger can tell how desperate you are to get fucked, what about the rest?

“Interesting.” Hoseok’s eyes darken by the minute. “And do you prefer clitoral stimulation to penetration?”

“I-” You pause and struggle to formulate your response. Your ears feel hot. In fact - your entire face feels like it’s on fire.

The embarrassment you feel doesn’t make sense - you’ve never had any qualms discussing sex. You can talk candidly about any topic for hours on end, from the condom brands you prefer to advice on how to maintain a rash-free pussy, to the point where some people might think you’re over-sharing or being too crass. Discussing intimate topics shouldn’t be a problem.

It’s not even a real dialogue anyway, so why do you -

“Yes?” Hoseok leans forward, interrupting your train of thought. The corner of his mouth is upturned, like he can’t help but be amused by your discomfiture.

“I like, um.” You close your eyes, hoping that it’ll somehow make the admission easier. It doesn’t. The darkness makes you feel even more exposed, like all your secrets are laid bare for him to see. Your voice quivers when you answer. “I - I touch - I mean, sometimes I’ll - my fingers aren’t long enough. So just rubbing the outside is - fine.”

“Ah. You like being stuffed full, I take it?” Hoseok’s vulgar vocabulary makes your eyes snap open in shock. He smirks, not expecting you to answer. “Poor girl.”

You shake your head, your reply dying in your throat. With every word he utters, your thoughts become fuzzy, muddled.

“What did you imagine last night while you were getting off? A stranger fucking your face? Big men taking turns using your cunt? Tell me. In detail, preferably.”

“I don’t see how-” The sharp look in his eyes makes you swallow down any protest. Still. You can’t get your mouth to work correctly and you look back at him helplessly.

“Is there a reason why you can’t tell me?” He tilts his head to the side, the smirk on his face growing, canines flashing. “Oh. I see.”

You flinch, your face impossibly hot.

“Were you thinking of today’s session?” He chuckles, delighted. “That’s quite naughty of you. Although, I can’t blame you, can I? We are known to deliver the best orgasma. It’s only natural to imagine what would happen.”

That’s right, you think. You’d spent all night fantasizing about a faceless, nameless stranger’s hands all over your naked body. How long had it been since you’d felt someone’s touch? Their tongue buried deep in your cunt, fucking you until your thighs trembled? Even your best dildo couldn’t hold a candle to a hot-blooded, throbbing cock.

Hoseok taps the pen against the clipboard, the staccato sound filling the silence.

“One last question.” He makes sure he has your undivided attention before continuing. “No need to look so worried. I won’t ask you what lewd thoughts you get off to, although maybe in future sessions I’ll expect that of you.”

You don’t linger on the implication there - that you’ll undoubtedly come back for seconds - and nod your assent for him to go on.

“Did you cum hard while thinking of getting fucked by me today?”

You inhale sharply, struggling to hold his stare. “I… The sheets were so wet afterwards, I had to change them.”

“I see.” He jots something down on his clipboard but his reaction doesn’t give anything away. Nervously, you pull on a loose string hanging from the hem of your short. “Hm…”

After a few seconds of silence he speaks up again, done with his assessment.

“Well, normally for first timers such as yourself we’d recommend starting with a more soothing body massage. But I think in your case a more thorough massage is needed. It’s not a cause for concern!” He adds quickly, as if to assuage any growing fears. “But in my professional opinion, I think the massage I have in mind for you might be more beneficial than the beginner level massage.���

“Um, what does this massage entail exactly?”

“We call it the full treatment. In other words - it’s a deep tissue penetration massage,” Hoseok explains calmly. “It includes an internal massage. We’ll use a variety of methods but rest assured - all techniques are tried and tested! You’ll be in safe hands.”

You pretend to mull it over.

Hoseok waits for your nod of confirmation before instructing, “There are towels at your disposal.” He motions to the pile of fluffy white towels folded neatly on the bench. “Feel free to use them. While you change into a...less restricting outfit, I’ll go retrieve the rest of the massage equipment. See you in a bit!”

And with that he’s gone. The privacy he grants you is, of course, just an illusion. Even without looking in their direction, you know that the cameras’ lenses are all focused on you, waiting to capture the impending striptease. You’d forgotten about them but Hoseok’s absence reminds you of their presence.

Per Director Ryu’s earlier instructions, you make a show of taking off your clothes. Teasing the camera comes naturally to you thanks to your prior experience as a cam girl; you know exactly which angles are the most flattering and which ones, on the other hand, emphasize your flaws.

Your back arches as you peel off your shirt, drawing attention to the swell of your breasts and the curve of your waist. Not long after do you shimmy out of your shorts, exaggerating the swing of your hips for the audience’s viewing pleasure. You try not to show your surprise when the dampness of your crotch sticks to your folds as you pull them down your legs - you hadn’t expected how much a simple tit massage and few exchanged words would rile you up.

The denim pools around your ankles and when you bend over to retrieve the useless item of clothing, you’re acutely aware of how your wet, waxed pussy peeks out from between your thighs. You stay in position, giving the camera ample time to zoom in, and while the stretch isn’t painful (thanks to your yoga lessons!), it is a rather awkward position to maintain.

Once you straighten up, you take a few seconds to fold up the shirt and itty bitty shorts before setting them aside. Normally, you’d leave your discarded clothing strewn about but you can’t imagine your character behaving in such an uncouth way.

With that thought in mind, you wrap yourself with a short towel. Rather than covering your intimate bits, it’s so short that it emphasizes your nakedness. When you go to sit on the massage table, the towel rides up, leaving you exposed and you have to fold your hands in your lap to preserve a semblance of modesty.

It’s easy to convey nervousness while you wait for Hoseok’s return. While you’ve never attended any drama school, you have watched plenty enough Netflix dramas to know which physical cues are more or less effective - constant fidgeting, shifty eyes, audible gulping. Since it’s your first time putting your knowledge into practice, you’re not certain how convincing your acting is, but hey, isn’t it the effort that counts? You’re not here to audition for the starring role in Hollywood’s next summer blockbuster, after all.

Hoseok knocks twice before entering, stopping your self-depreciation in its tracks. He’s abandoned the earlier clipboard for a large, nondescript, white cardboard box that rattles with every step he takes. It sounds more ominous than it actually is.

If Director Ryu is truly aiming for realism, he wouldn’t make Hoseok carry back the items in a fucking box, you think privately. Who even does that? Although you suppose realism isn’t the be-all end-all, no matter how much the director insists. Sometimes viewers like to be metaphorically edged and endlessly teased, and all this guessing only adds to the build-up, making the climax more than worth it. They could, of course, fast-forward to get to the juicy sex scenes, the crux of the matter, but you’d like to believe all this extra effort is worth it.

You blink curiously back at Hoseok, feigning ignorance.

“Oh good.” He beams in your direction, his eyes drinking in your scantily-clad figure. “Now that you’re more comfortable, please lie down for me.”

He sets the box to the side, opens the lid, and takes out a bottle of oil while you settle down on your stomach and carefully rearrange your towel so that it covers your bum.

“I’ve chosen bergamot essential oil for today’s massage. It’s a nice, citrus-like scent that’s not too overwhelming because it’s been mixed in with sweet almond oil. Its many virtues include, but are not limited to, increasing the body’s energy flow and enhancing feelings of joy and freshness.”

“That sounds lovely.” You sigh dreamily. Getting massaged and getting dicked down in one go? Hell yeah. That one is a no-brainer for sure.

There’s a shadow of a smirk on Hoseok’s face when he rounds on you, like he’s somehow privy to your thoughts. That, or your eagerness is too transparent. You’re betting on the latter.

His voice lowers an octave, the low timber making shivers run down your back.

“Shall we begin?”

He moves your hair to the side, leaving your neck and back exposed. He then pulls down your towel so that it uncovers the expanse of your back and covers more of your bottom half instead.

“Is this alright?” he inquires. As if testing the waters, his fingers trace down the line of your spine, stopping right before your lower back dips into a curve.

You moan your assent. “More than.”

Hoseok takes the bottle of oil and drizzles its contents over your skin like a painter splattering ink onto a blank canvas. He spreads the lubricant all over your back, rubbing your skin in circular motions until you’re coated with it. You let out a few pleased sounds here and there that are not entirely faked or exaggerated. He definitely knows what he’s doing with his hands.

Honestly, you feel sorry towards your co-star who’s stuck doing most of the work while you’re splayed out like a starfish. It feels a bit unfair that you’re getting paid more than him when he’s the one putting in most of the effort. Had you any shame, you’d give him half of your pay for his services. Alas.

“Tell me if it hurts anywhere,” he warns, not unkindly.

Your back stiffens. You expect Hoseok to replicate the rough treatment he’d inflicted to your breasts, but contrary to your expectations, he kneads your body gently, almost tenderly. The contrast between this touch and his earlier ministrations messes with your head. When his hands outline your flank, his fingers prodding the sides of your breasts, you swallow a hopeful sigh as you wait for him to envelop your soft mounds and roll your sensitive nipples between his skilled fingers.

Betrayal brews in your gut when he fails to indulge your fantasies. You’re tempted to grab his wrist and guide his hand to where you need it the most but you miraculously hold yourself back. Since the scene doesn’t call for that much impatience and desperation on your part, you’d hate to be the reason why Director Ryu asks for a re-take.

Thankfully, he soon puts you out of your misery. Hoseok retreats, done teasing the sides of your breasts for the time being. You’re not sure it’s relief or disappointment that swims in your lower belly, but Hoseok doesn’t give you time to dwell on the question. Almost as soon as he retracts his hands from your back, he redirects his attention to your legs. His hands, warm and slick from the oil, glide over the back of your calves and thighs with ease. His thumbs rub circular shapes into your flesh as he slowly works his way up, the pleasant sensations leaving your whole body boneless.

“You loosen up well.”

Hoseok’s fingers skirt the hem of the towel. Your breath gets caught in your throat as he toys with the fabric.

“Will you open up for me, pretty? You look tense right here.” He flips the towel up, revealing your bare lower half. He wastes no time before gripping the meat of your ass cheeks, fingers digging into the supple flesh. He spreads your cheeks apart, cool air blowing against your exposed holes, and lets them jiggle back into place after giving the camera ample time to capture the view. “Hm. Looks like you haven’t been properly stretched out in a long time... We’ll fix that today.”

Bolts of pleasure run through your body. The whole situation is ludicrous and yet, for whatever reason you cannot pinpoint, moisture gathers between your thighs with every passing second, adding to the mess dripping from your folds.

“Um, like this?” You part your legs open slightly, as if unsure. In situations like these, the biggest challenge is to act diffident and coy when all you want is for your co-star to blow your back out.

He tsks, the sound sharp and reproving. It goes straight to your core and makes your belly clench with unspeakable need.

“How am I supposed to fuck your holes open in that position?” He has the audacity to sound impatient. “Work with me here.”

He grabs your ankles and separates them himself, ignoring your yelp of surprise. Unaccustomed to the stretch, the muscles in your thighs strain with the effort to hold the position.

A whine slips out your mouth. He’s so mean.

While you expect Hoseok to act somewhat distant and objective because of the role he’s playing, his fluctuating behavior gives you nothing but whiplash. One moment he’s cordial and friendly, the epitome of what a  professional should be, the next he’s treating you like you’re his plaything, not his client.

His grip around your ankles is firm and unyielding. He’s got you spread impossibly wide, your legs dangling dangerously off the edge of the table with your waxed holes exposed for inspection.

“That’s good, just like that.” His hands let go of your ankles when he’s sure you won’t move from the position he’s steered you into. He strokes up your legs, the touch feather-light and fleeting. “Keep your legs spread wide. I want to see your cute little holes on display.”

His crude remarks make your body flush with heat.

Even if this is the sort of place that offers sexual gratification, Hoseok’s wording toes several lines. As his client, he should be focused on giving you pleasure, so why do his comments make it sound like you’re here for his entertainment instead?

Despite your character being fully aware of what type of establishment she’s visiting, you reckon Hoseok’s words are enough to make her squirm in embarrassment. There’s something filthy about the way he orders you around and bends you to his will. Even you’re not indifferent to the impersonal way he handles your body like a doll. Flickers of arousal lick up your spine, and with your legs extended so far apart, it’s not difficult for Hoseok to notice how much you’re wound up.

The position is far from proper. Hot streaks of humiliation burn through you when you imagine how easy and slutty you must seem to whoever is watching. You don’t dare move from the pose he’s maneuvered you into, not because you’re scared of the consequences, but because his presence demands obedience. Even without explicitly saying so, he’s made it clear that for the next hour or so, you’re his to toy with.

“Good girl. You open up so nicely.” Hoseok purrs, satisfied with your compliance. “Now let me see what I’m working with here.”

He swipes his index finger through your glossy folds, the action forcing you to stifle a startled gasp. It’s nothing like the erotic oil massage you’d experienced minutes prior. The touch is inquisitive, clinical, assessing. Like he’s testing out a new product before purchase.

You want to stay still but you’re so wound up from his incessant teasing. The slightest caress makes the hairs on the back of your nape stand straight. Hoseok is all too aware of this fact. The tip of his pointer finger comes in contact with your clit, the touch more delicate than a feather's caress. Hoseok watches with thinly veiled amusement as you jerk against the table.

“You really are sensitive,” he all but coos. “What a treat. Don’t need any oil when you’re leaking all over the table like a faucet. How long has it been since someone touched you here, hm?”

The teasing lilt in his voice borders on condescending. Heat simmers under the surface of your skin as you struggle to collect your thoughts.

“Eight months,” you squeak just as two of his fingers dip into your slicked up entrance.

“No wonder you’re all worked up.” He slides his digits right up to the knuckle, the glide so easy it’s embarrassing. “Needy holes like yours should be used more often.”

He fucks his fingers into your pussy one, two, three times, before pulling away, chuckling under his breath when your hips push back, greedy and desperate for more. Using the same hand he’d used to test out your cunt Hoseok slaps your ass once, the sharp sting making you still at once.

The damp mark on your ass is a testament to how fucking soaked you are. You can’t imagine what kind of mess the cameras are picking up on - but maybe you don’t have to.

Hoseok wipes his fingers off on you, using you to clean himself off. Although you can’t see anything because of the way you’re laying down, everything feels wet and filthy. He rubs your own juices onto your skin, reminding you of the intensity of your need.

And just when you don’t think his mouth can get any filthier, he proves you wrong.

“I can tell you haven’t been stretched recently,” he sighs, almost disappointed. “You’re just gagging for a pounding, aren’t you? It’s a shame your fuck-hole is too tight to take a big cock or I would have given it to you right away.”

Your lower body clenches as his words wash over you.

The idea sounds downright delicious. Hoseok is right. Even if it’s just for the sake of the storyline, there’s nothing more you want right now than a good, hard fucking. It would take him less than ten seconds for him to pull his hard cock out from his scrubs and make a home for himself between your thighs. Images flash through your mind of Hoseok’s hands on your breasts, in your hair, around your throat. You want him to cover you, smother you, as he forces you down against the table and takes his fill. You want his lips on your skin, hot and possessive, as he uses you like the cocksleeve he needs you to be.

God, you want that. You want to be used hard, to be fucked full until you break. You need this - your character needs this.

You whimper, high-pitched and needy. “Please. Please, I want it. I want - I want your cock.”

“I’m sure you do.” Hoseok all but scoffs. “Why don’t you just sit still and relax for me? I’m going to massage you until you’re nice and loose, alright? First-timers like you could get hurt if they’re not prepped properly but I’ll get you ready, don’t worry. By the end of this, you’ll be able to take big cocks in all your holes like a pro.”

“Shit.”

You bite back a moan, startled at how much you’re turned on.

Porn dialogue is rarely arousing. You’re the first to tune out your partner whenever they talk for longer than a minute. It’s because you hear the same exact shitty lines repeated so often that you’re half-convinced there’s a porn acting for dummies handbook being circulated around.

Although… Maybe if Hoseok’s lines had been delivered by someone else, they wouldn’t have the same effect on you. That’s the difference, you think to yourself. Hoseok’s delivery. The cockiness that infuses his every word, the way he confidently carries himself… He does it all so convincingly - nothing like the wooden and awkward memorized performances you’ve witnessed from fellow actors.

While you’re lost in thought, Hoseok rummages inside the cardboard box. Without his touch or words to distract you, it’s harder to ignore the building arousal between your legs. As the seconds tick by, your shameful desire only worsens.

Before you can crane your neck or voice your confusion, Hoseok returns, humming under his breath.

“We’re gonna try a different massage technique now. This method will help with lubrication,” he explains evenly. “I’ll use a special vibrating tool that will massage hard to reach areas.”

“Um…” You swallow, blinking rapidly. “Okay.”

“It’s not as scary as it sounds. We’ll start off slow and I’ll gradually up the intensity once I deem you ready for the next stage. How does that sound?”

A click, followed by a low buzzing, fills the room.

You gasp when the vibrating object comes in contact with the back of your knee. Hoseok’s free hand settles on your leg - a nonverbal reminder to keep your legs wide open for him as well as the cameras.

“See? Nice and easy. Nothing to be scared of.”

He rotates the tool in slow, even circles. You force yourself to relax and accept the foreign massage, disregarding how strange it feels to have small vibrations travel up and down your leg. After a few minutes of him repeating the same motions on your other leg, he slowly makes his way up your thighs, the rounded tip of the tool dangerously close to your drenched pussy.

A pleading whine reverberates in your chest. The electric whirring of the vibrator is not enough to soothe the burning between your thighs. If anything, it makes it worse. You need more, you think urgently.

Hoseok moves to the side of the table so that the cameras can get an unobstructed view of your clenching hole. It’s the first time you’ve seen his face since he made you lie down. From his voice alone, it’s impossible to tell how affected he is. More than once you’d caught yourself wondering… Does he like what he sees? Is he enjoying himself?

A dark streak of satisfaction crosses over you when you notice the hunger in his gaze, his pupils blown so wide his brown eyes look black. Drool pools in your mouth when you spot the sizable tent in his scrubs.

The fact that you’re at the perfect height to suck his dick doesn’t slip by you. He could flip you over onto your back, your head hanging off the table, and use your mouth to his heart’s content. You whimper at the thought of him fucking your face, your mouth reduced to a fleshlight for him to get off. You could probably cum like that - his cock buried deep in your throat, his fingers pressed against the side of your neck to you struggle around his length, while his other hand reaches down to grab at your breast, using it as an anchor to fuck into you harder.

“Shit, you’re really making a mess of my work table.”

Hoseok’s gaze is trained between your legs. He wets his lips and adjusts his hold on the vibrator. The sudden movement changes the angle, positioning the tool right over your dripping entrance, closer than ever to your swollen clit. The vibrations suddenly feel louder and stronger than before. If this keeps up, you reckon that it won’t be long before you’re hurtling towards the edge of a precipice.

A moan slips past your parted lips, loud and wanton. Embarrassed by the sheer need that colors your voice, you quickly shut your mouth closed, hoping that your desperation goes by unnoticed.

Hoseok chuckles, the sound sharp and mean. He comments on your obscene behavior, how you’re acting so slutty it’s a wonder you’d kept this side of you locked away for this long without people suspecting your love for cock. Every word infiltrates your mind, leaves no corners untainted, until all you can think and breathe and smell is him.

“Over the years, I’ve seen a lot of sluts parade in here and pay for my time,” he says, his dulcet tone making the degradation sweeter. You hang onto each and every word, letting yourself fall deeper into a haze of arousal and submission. “But it’s been a while since someone like you showed up. Just look at this… Your little fuck-hole can’t even take a bit of teasing without getting me dirty.”

The buzzing between your thighs switches back and forth between strong pulses and rapid, little vibrations. You keen, shaking from head to toe in pleasure. Your thighs are wet, sticky with your juices, and your clit is hard and aching for attention.

You don’t even want to know what state your sopping pussy is in. Every time your body jerks and trembles, you feel the pool of arousal that’s gathered underneath you. It’s - embarrassing. That you’re this soaked and close to cumming when he hasn’t even touched your clit or fucked you with his cock.  

In the midst of your pleasure-induced haze, your eyes meet his. The lines of his face are drawn into a smug expression, his gaze smoldering. Embers of arousal light up his dark eyes, and you can only stare back at him, clit throbbing, as he ups the intensity of the vibrations.

“Fuck! Oh God, oh I’m-” Your legs thrash, hips lifting off the table in an effort to escape the shocks of pleasure zapping throughout your body. Mercifully - or not, depending on how you looked at it - Hoseok brought the vibrations down a few settings, until the whirring had quieted down to a low thrum.

“Feeling good, huh?” The grin he sends your way is positively wicked. “I think you’re ready to take more.”

More? you think weakly. Any more and you’ll explode, like popcorn kernels in a microwave.

For a second you think he’ll bring the vibrator up to your clit. Maybe even slide the long, phallic-shaped vibrator inside your pussy so that it’ll stretch you out like he’d promised. What you don’t expect is for him to bring it down to your other hole, the powerful vibrations rattling you to the core.

Your surprised gasp is so loud, not even the buzzing of the toy drowns it out. Hoseok places his available hand on your left hip and pins you to the table, the gentle weight keeping you steady.

“That’s right,” he soothes, voice smooth like silk. It sounds patronizing, almost like he’s calming down a dog startled by thunder or explaining right from wrong to a small child.

“Um.” You let trepidation inch its way into your voice. “You - what are you doing? That’s not - that’s dirty.”

“What is?”

“My,” you pause, humiliation coiling tightly around your spine. Hoseok presses the toy harder around your rim, its coat of arousal making the tip slide over your sensitive skin. You’re tempted not to answer but you know Hoseok wants you to voice the dirty words. “My asshole. It’s - dirty. Please - I… I don’t think you should touch it. It’s not right.”

You mumble the end of your sentence like you’re embarrassed to say such a scandalous thing out loud.

Hoseok laughs, sounding both mocking and endeared. “Oh, sweetheart. Didn’t you hear what I said earlier? I’m going to loosen up all your holes. Because that’s what you’ve always wanted deep down, isn’t it? To service cock. Even if it means letting me play with this dirty hole of yours.”

The vibrations intensify with the click of a button. Your whole body spasms, limbs flailing pathetically as the sensations run down your back all the way to the tip of your toes.

You bite down a whimper. How does he know? How can he tell? All you want right now is a nice, hard cock buried inside of you - and at this point you don’t care which orifice he sticks in it. You’re just so - empty. So empty it physically aches.

Hoseok dials down the intensity of the vibrator and with his free hand, squeezes a copious amount of oil onto the toy, slicking it up.

Surprisingly he doesn’t bother prepping you with his fingers before easing the toy into your back entrance. From your position, you can’t tell if Director Ryu signaled to hurry things along or if his own impatience played a part. Either way, your sharp intake of breath is genuine.

You try your best to relax your muscles but the toy is thicker than expected, its sides bumpy and ribbed. Even though you’d stretched yourself out beforehand with a sizable dildo, the girth of the toy still makes your breath hitch. Your bottom lip hurts as you scrape your teeth over it.

“Relax for me. That’s it.” Hoseok whispers soft words of encouragement. “You’re doing such a good job.”

Finally, after what seems like light years, the toy is fully inserted, only the base of it peeking out from between your parted cheeks. You feel full, deliciously so. It’s only now with the weight of the toy inside of you that you realize how much you’d missed being stuffed to the brim.

“There you go.” Hoseok smacks your right ass cheek hard enough for the sting to go straight to your clit. “How does that feel?”

“Full.” You smack your lips together. Eloquence is not your strongest suit in the present moment and your lack of coherency only humiliates you further. It’s like he’s rendered you cock-dumb. Reduced you to a lust-driven creature that only has dick on the brain. “I feel good.”

“Of course you’d enjoy that.” The cockiness in his voice is undeniable, like he’s drunk off the power he has over you. “Needy sluts like you only care about getting filled up, huh?”

It sounds like a rhetorical question but you answer it anyway, just in case he wanted an answer.

“Yes! I’m a needy slut. Please - could you…?” You wriggle your hips, trying to entice him into action. The rocking motion jostles the toy nestled inside of you, causing you to choke out a moan. “Hng! Use my pussy this time, please?”

Hoseok clucks his tongue and slaps your ass again to keep you still. It moves the lodged vibrator, knocking it against a spot inside of you that makes you gush. Your pussy clenches up in an imitation of an orgasm - but you know from experience that you haven’t cum just yet.

Fuck. You’re so fucked and he hasn’t even given you his cock.

Your head thumps down against the table as you take in deep, steadying breaths. You can’t think straight; every thought seems clouded by a dense smog of lust. Your body feels like a live wire, all your nerve endings crackling with electricity. How much more can you endure before you shatter beyond repair?

Hoseok takes pity on you. “The vibrating massage should have helped your muscles relax. Your tight cunt should be able to fit this in by now.”

He slides another silicone toy into your pussy, this one wider and longer than the first. Your hands grapple for purchase as your body accommodates both toys, one in each hole. You’re so wet that there’s no resistance despite its impressive size and you suck in a breath as Hoseok keeps pushing it in, inch by interminable inch.

If you thought you felt full before, it’s nothing compared to how stretched you feel now. The wall separating the two toys is stretched thin and when you tense your abdomen, you can feel both of them nudge against one another. Your stomach feels - bloated. As if there’s a bulge where the toys are nestled deep inside of you.

It’s quite frankly obscene.

You’ve never felt more turned on.

“Whoa.” He grips both of your legs and widens them even further, displaying your stuffed holes for the cameras. “Your hungry cunt ate up my biggest dildo like it was nothing.”

The fact that he admitted it was a dildo - and not some vibrating tool - just adds to your mortification.

“Okay. Two holes down, one to go.”

He releases his hold on your legs and raises a brow at you. The smirk is back on his face and that, paired with the ravenous look in his eyes, makes you want to run and hide. He looks like he’s two seconds away from devouring you whole for dinner. “Why don’t you turn around for me? It wouldn’t be a full body massage if I didn’t rub down the other side, right?”

His chuckle spurs you into action. It’s not that you’re not embarrassed by the idea of baring yourself completely for him like some sort of cult offering, but the need to get dicked down trumps all.

Your mind feels fuzzy and your body sluggish. There’s a fire inside of you that not even double penetration has managed to extinguish and it roars to life as you manœuvre into the position he’s ordered you to get into. The toys jostle inside of you, reminding you of the depraved lengths you’d go to because you’re starving for cock.

He’s right about you, you think as you settle onto your back. You’re a needy slut. All you want is for your holes to be filled. And when they’re empty, your body aches with the need to fill them back up again. Toys will do but they’re a poor substitute for what you really want.

Thankfully, Hoseok’s own patience is running out. You’ve barely gotten into a comfortable position when he’s fishing out his cock from his scrubs, not even bothering to remove his clothes.

Drool pools into your mouth at the sight. He’s just as long as you remembered him to be. Not too thick or veiny, but prettily flushed and glistening with translucent precum. How long has he been hard? The erection looks painful. Distantly, you’re comforted by the knowledge that you haven’t been the only one suffering from this prolonged foreplay. God is fair, you rejoice internally. 

Your mouth opens of its own accord and your tongue lolls out, hungry.

Hoseok doesn’t comment on your pathetic state -  a testament to how worked up he probably is. He guides his cock into your waiting mouth with barely repressed urgency.

His cock is heavy on your tongue, the perfect weight. He pushes in until he can’t go any further, the position you’re in giving him better access to your throat. You fucking love it.

When you swallow around his length, he hisses between his teeth. “Shit.”

He gives you little time to adjust. As soon as he’s certain you can take it, he starts to thrust his hips. His cock drags across the rough surface of your tongue as it’s pushed and pulled out of your mouth at a rapid pace. Each thrust of his hips makes you gag, drool running down the sides of your face, and the obscene sounds of your choking echo in your ears.

The rough treatment should revolt you, make you squirm or shy away, but you’ve never felt more alive. Your mind feels pleasantly blank - like your sole purpose in life is to be a glorified cum bucket, a receptacle for his cock and cum. Even when he buries himself all the way to the hilt, so far down your throat it feels like he’s reached your stomach, you’re eager for more. Logically speaking you don’t even know if you can handle more, don’t have the mental faculty to figure out if more is physically possible, but your body knows that it’ll never be sated, not fully, not until he cums inside you.

“Greedy girl,” he rasps between heavy breaths. “Look at you… I’ve plugged up three of your holes but you’re still gagging for it, aren’t you? Filthy slut.”

His words are meant to degrade and humiliate you. Instead of disgust, you can hear the admiration ring in his voice. His awe satisfies you and you hollow your cheeks, suctioning around his girth just to hear him curse under his breath. You live for the way his hips stutter and how his deep breathing is interspersed by the occasional grunt or moan. It feels good to know that you’re bringing him pleasure, that your hole is satisfactory.

Hoseok reaches over your body and grabs something from the discarded cardboard box you can’t see. You soon find out what it is though - the oil is drizzled over your torso and chest, liquid spilling down the sides of your body. He throws the bottle to the side, more interested in spreading the lubricant over your tits until they’re slick and shiny.

It soon becomes clear that he’s abandoned his earlier massage techniques in favor of a more rushed treatment. Gone is the slow build-up. He rubs your breasts, grabbing and squeezing them like stress balls, and pinches your hard nipples tightly between his fingers, pulling them out until your back arches.

The next time he slams his erect length into your mouth, your breasts bounce from the force of the thrust. Hoseok’s eyes remain transfixed on the lewd way your breasts jiggle; because he keeps your nipples clamped tightly between his fingers, your tits have no other choice but to swing around every time he rocks his hips back and forth.

Every time you gag and choke on his cock, tears prickling your eyes, you feel the fire between your legs grow stronger. Shame and arousal course through you, your head dizzy with lust. You can’t move, can’t scream, all of your moans of pleasure muffled by the cock buried in your throat.

He laughs derisively, pulling out after a particularly hard thrust. A string of saliva connects your mouth to his cock and your eyes zero in on it, finding it impossible to look away.

“You slut.”

He makes a disapproving noise low in his throat before slapping you across the face with his cock.

It doesn’t hurt anywhere as much as a real slap but it’s so unexpected you gasp, your jaw throbbing in pain. The imprint of his cock is wet and dirty against your cheek. He keeps his cock hanging a few centimeters above your face. It taunts you, beckons you closer. The seam of your mouth stays wide open, your appetite evidently knowing no limits.  

“Heh. You’re really something… Never seen a whore so cock-hungry in my life. And trust me when I say I’ve seen plenty.” He sneers, walking away.

For a long second, you fear he’s gone and left you high and dry and that the scene will end like that. Except - no. He’s positioned himself at the other side of the massage table. You shudder as you realize that can only mean one thing : he’s going to grant you the fucking your body craves. 

Hoseok’s lips twitch into a knowing half-smile. He grips his stiff cock in one hand, the length of it soaked with your spit and precum.

You gulp, suddenly intimidated. Perhaps it’s the angle, but he looks taller than you remember him to be, bigger, his shoulders slightly broader. His cock looks more imposing, too. Despite just having choked on it, it’s long; his hand sits loosely at the base of his cock, leaving a few good inches poking out of his fist. Your mouth goes dry, your insatiable hunger reawakened. 

The impatience marring your features is probably disgustingly obvious because Hoseok makes another comment about how desperate and pathetic you look once you’re deprived of cock.

Using his left hand, he slowly removes the toy from your ass. The slide is painful because you’re clenching so hard down on it, unwilling for your hole to become empty once again.

A whimper escapes your parted lips. Hoseok laughs at the betrayed look that crosses your face at the loss of the thick dildo.

“So fuckin’ greedy.” He slaps your entrance with his cock, his grin wolfish as you wail in reply. “Stay still if you want my cock.”

Immediately you freeze, taking his words to heart. Deep down, you know that he won’t be that cruel but you’re so exhausted from the never-ending teasing, that you’re not willing to take any chances.

Hoseok holds up one of your legs and pushes it over his shoulder.

“Good girl.” He breaches your ass, both of you moaning as his cock works its way inside of you. It’s a tight fit; you can feel his cock bump into the vibrating dildo in your pussy, the feeling overwhelming you. He grunts, fingertips bruising your skin as he hold back from cumming too quickly. 

His hips work up a steady rhythm, the both of you already so close to finishing. You know that a lesser man would have cum ages ago, but Hoseok troops on, eyebrows creased in concentration. He looks - hot. Ridiculously hot, even in that dumb fake masseuse uniform.

His once perfectly combed hair is now disheveled, strands of hair falling over his eyes and dripping brow. There’s something about all of it - the wild glint in his eyes, the rough way he’s fucking you, the domineering aura that he exudes - that makes you absolutely lose it.

You clench up on his cock without warning, your insides squeezing around him even more tightly because of the toy still lodged in your dripping cunt. The orgasm rips through you, fast and hard, leaving your thighs soaking. Hoseok fucks you through it, his cock relentless, drawing your pleasure out until your body goes limp. 

It’s the kind of orgasm that on a normal day you could only hope to achieve.

Except Hoseok doesn’t stop to let you rest or take a breather. He brings your other leg over his shoulder, testing the limits of your flexibility, and uses the new angle to plow into you with renewed force.

“Ah - ah fuck wait!” You cry out, overwhelmed by the onslaught of sensations traveling through your body. “Oh my God, oh shit! You’re so fucking deep, ah!”

Hoseok chooses that moment to turn on the vibrating dildo. He doesn’t even start at the lowest setting, sets it straight to one of the higher level ones, and your whole body jumps. Both of you moan as the toy comes to life. The vibrations rattle your insides - and that, coupled with the fat cock that’s splitting you open relentlessly, threaten to rearrange your insides.

Arousal builds again quickly inside of you, pulsing steadily alongside your heartbeat.

You feel so fucking full you think it’s possible you’ll burst. Before, when you had both toys buried inside of you, the stretch and the fullness had been pleasant. You had even been able to tune it out for the most part once you’d got used to it.

But with the way Hoseok is now fucking into you with reckless abandon, it’s impossible not to be reminded of how stuffed your holes are. Every thrust of his cock in your ass bumps against the vibrator, pushing it harder against your bundle of nerves. 

“I knew the minute I saw you,” he growls, his pace punishing. “No bra, pussy ripe for the picking. Whores like you could never be satisfied with the beginner massage. No, I knew exactly what you needed.”

He adjusts his grip on your ankles and the change in angle keeps the vibrator pressed directly the sensitive bundle of nerves inside of you.

“Fuck! Oh God, there there! Please, keep going. It’s so good. Fuck me!” You chant, out of your mind with pleasure.Your words are raw, unrefined, and in any other circumstance, you’d laugh at how ridiculous you sound.

“You’re so fucking loud,” he hisses between grunts of pleasure. “Why don’t you go ahead and cum for me. Make yourself useful and tighten up this hole of yours so I can feel good.”

He reaches down between your legs and fiddles with the switch.

You scream. Your eyes roll back and your entire body locks up. Intense pleasure that you’ve never experienced before thunders through your body. If your previous orgasm was like a building wave crashing to the shore at long last, this one is a fucking tornado determined to rip you to pieces.

Maybe you might’ve passed out. You don’t know. But when you regain consciousness, Hoseok’s cock is pulsing jet after jet of hot cum inside of your pussy. You feel it spurt inside of you, coating your already slick walls with his essence. 

He pulls out quickly so that the camera can zoom in on the way the cum oozes out of you in thick globs. Instinctively you clench your walls to keep more from leaking out, but it only pushes more of the mess out, painting your inner thighs white.

When you glance up at him you notice his shirt is soaked. There’s a huge dark spot that starts from his chest to his pants. He doesn’t seem to mind the stain.

“You came so hard you passed out,” he informs you while tucking his spent cock back inside his scrubs. “I came inside of you while you were out of it but I figured you wouldn’t mind. That’s what you came here for, right?”

The smile he shoots your way looks more like a smirk. You bite your lip. He must’ve taken out the dildo - or it might’ve gotten pushed out during your orgasm, you don’t know - and you feel your holes gape a little after being stretched and used for so long. You’re tempted to snap your legs shut but you know the cameras need to record your debauchery.

“I’ll let you change. You can meet me out front to schedule your next appointment. Hm let’s see… Considering how well you reacted during this session I think we’ll have to take more, hm, drastic measures next time. I’m curious to see how far your greedy cunt is able to stretch with enough incentive. I’m positive that with you anything is possible. We’ll try fitting two cocks insides for starters and maybe - ah. I’m getting carried away.” He chuckles. “Anyways, meet me at the counter in ten minutes and we can go over the details then.”

“I…” You wet your lips. “I’d like that.”

A silence ensues and for a second you think your acting was bad or you’d said the wrong thing.

“CUT! And that, my friends, is what you call art!” yells Director Ryu, clapping his hands like a seal.

You breathe out a sigh of relief and sit up despite your muscles protesting loudly. God, your ass feels sore. Hoseok had really done a number on you.

“Hey, are you all good?” He asks, drawing closer to you in concern. He must have seen your grimace.

“Oh! Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for asking. It’s just - it was kind of intense. In a good way! I’ll probably be sore later but that’s because I’m not used to these kind of scenes yet.”

“You were really hot. I couldn’t tell this was your first anal scene at all.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Really.” Hoseok sighs dreamily. “I think I saw Jesus when I came.”

“What?” You bring a hand to your mouth to muffle your laughter. “It was a good nut, I take it?”

“The best.” He looks over at you, dimples on his cheek as he returns your smile. “I blacked out for a second and went to heaven.”

You bask in the afterglow for a few minutes longer than you usually would. Hoseok makes no move to leave either, even if logic dictates that you’re both better off washing up instead of letting the mixture of sweat, cum, and oil dry on your skin. You know from experience that it’s hard as fuck to clean up once it hardens - not to mention it stinks.

“Babe!”

You’re roused from your peaceful state of mind as your boyfriend approaches. He’s smiling but one side of his mouth looks stiff. He hands you a towel, eyes trailing down your figure, and suddenly you feel self-conscious. You hurriedly wrap the fluffy material around you, eager to hide the cum still dripping out of your swollen cunt and the red marks littered over your body from Hoseok’s rough treatment.

It’s not - you’re not ashamed. You never are. It’s just - you don’t want to hurt Jimin. Even if it does come with the job, it can’t be easy for him to see his girlfriend getting fucked by someone else.

“That was so good! You did great. The camera really loves you. I can’t wait to see how the final cut turns out,” Jimin compliments and you preen despite yourself, conditioned to suck up praise. “Are you hungry?”

Just on cue your stomach lets out a grumble.

Jimin’s eyes crease into crescents as he smiles. “I knew it. You’re always famished after a scene. It’s a good thing I booked a reservation at our favorite restaurant, right?”

You nod, thankful yet again that you have such a caring and thoughtful boyfriend. “I’m famished now that you mention it.”

Hoseok observes the exchange silently and his presence makes you embarrassed for some reason. Maybe not embarrassed but - something. You can’t put a name to the emotion.

“Um, I’ll see you around?” You say as you gather to your feet. Jimin is instantly by your side, his hand wrapping around yours tightly. “It was nice working with you again! Thank you for your hard work.”

Hoseok’s lips quirk into a half-smile. He’s still eyeing the both of you in a strange, intense kind of way and the scrutiny makes you fidgety. You try not to make your desire to flee the scene too transparent.

“It’s always a pleasure. I look forward to working with you again.”

The words he utters are tactful and diplomatic - nothing like the carefree familiarity he’d showcased minutes prior. You don’t blame him, given the circumstances.

You shoot him an apologetic look as you turn away to leave. To your relief, Hoseok doesn’t appear dejected or offended. Just - curious, maybe? Pensive? Like he’s in the middle of solving a complicated and intricate puzzle and that puzzle involves you.

The idea scares you. Mostly because you yourself don’t know what he’ll find.

As soon as you’ve rounded the corner, Jimin excuses himself. “I have to finish helping the guys. There’s still some equipment to put away. But we’ll meet out in the back like last time?”

“Sure.”

He kisses your cheek and scampers away.

Seokjin is waiting for you in the next room over. He’s holding a water bottle, your favorite silk robe, and a dark chocolate energy bar. You’re so sweaty that it feels silly to wear the robe but you shrug it on anyway, knowing that Jimin will feel better if you’re not parading around the set naked.

Your stomach rumbles loudly and it’s only then that you realize the extent of how fucking hungry you are. Non-stop sex sure is tiring, you note while ripping open the energy bar with your teeth. Seokjin calls you a savage under his breath but those types of comments are so commonplace that it’s easy to tune him out.

“God, I could kiss you right now,” you say after swallowing down a mouthful of granola. After eating spinach exclusively for the past three days, the sweetness on your tongue tastes like a slice of heaven.

“Not with that mouth, you won’t.” Seokjin narrows his eyes. “I know where it’s been.”

Still high from your mind-shattering orgasm, you giggle and pretend to kiss him just to watch him squirm. It’s not until much later, after you’d washed up as best you could with the help of baby wipes, that you check your phone. You respond to a text or two before finally checking your social media page out of habit more so than anything else.

.

(2) new notifications

JHOPE94 has followed you!

JHOPE94 has mentioned you in their story.

.

It’s the same account Hoseok had shown you earlier in the day. You follow him without much thought, grinning to yourself when you read his bio “hope on streets and in the sheets ;)”, and click on his Instagram story.

You’re surprised to learn he’s one of those people who uploads multiple pictures about just about anything - his Starbucks’ coffee cup with JAY written in black sharpie, several mirror selfies, a snapshot of his shoes, pictures of the film crew setting up the scene. You click through the pictures, a little flummoxed by the random collage, and pause when you get to the picture you’d been tagged in.

It’s you. Squinting, you realize that he must have taken the candid picture in passing. You’re sitting in the hair and makeup chair, the makeup artist applying a layer of gloss on your lips. The row of lights that border all around the vanity mirror give your figure a halo spotlight effect.

JHOPE94 : not in heaven but i saw an angel today :))

.

.

#once again the italics did not transfer over but i rlly can’t be bothered at this point ;; #i am so happy this is done but also nervous agshsisjskss #bts smut #hoseok smut #bts #hoseok #also as usual I did not proof the last 4k bc I speed wrote the last bit in one go #believe me when i say i cannot look at this draft any longer !

[odos-bucket]

So to continue my thoughts on Clark and Bruce adopting Jason together (begun here)

They go back to crime alley the next day. Bruce brings a copy of The Scarlet Pimpernel for Jason, who seems vaguely surprised to see them again. He isn’t as wary as he had been when they’d met in the middle of the night, and even sits beside Clark when they get onto the bus (though both end up giving their places up to other passengers before they can reach their destination).

At this point Clark and Bruce are focused on the idea of getting Jason enrolled in school, so the intention with this get together is to familiarize him with some potential institutions. Bruce was up all the previous night researching Gotham boarding schools, and reaching out to faculty members.

Despite all the preparation, the whole thing goes terribly.

Jason seems fine on the bus, but is tense and anxious during the actual school visits. He’s engaged by the classes and lectures he sits in on, but overall feels out of place, and is distrustful of pretty much everyone he ends up interacting with. He’s feeling conflicted, because he loves school, and he knows he’ll be pissed at himself forever if he really has this opportunity and ends up letting it slip by. But on the other hand he’s justifiably paranoid about perceived kindness from strangers (and yeah maybe it’s a little easier to trust Superman than it would be just anybody, but he still doesn’t really know the guy). And even if there isn’t some hidden catch to the offer, he’s not sure he can get on board with living somewhere where there’s a curfew, where his activities would be monitored. The idea of ceding any amount of control in his life at this point makes his skin crawl. He figures he owes it to himself to at least see if this is something that could work out, but goddamn if everything about it isn’t overwhelming and kind of horrifying.

And that’s all before other people start making themselves problems. Everywhere they end up going there’s bullshit to deal with from students, teachers, and administration.

Because of course the people running facilities designed to cater to Gotham socialites don’t treat Jason right. Even with freakin’ Batman and Superman with him he gets suspicious glares and withering looks.

None of that is any less than he expected. What really gets Jason is how put off everyone seems to be by his questions. He comes into every office with a list of things he’s curious about (Batman isn’t the only one who stayed up the previous night to prepare). He wants to know what percentage of the student bodies are there on scholarship, how the meal plans work, what the curfews are, how tightly regulated students’ time is outside of classes, what his life would be like if he put it into their hands.

The administrators don’t like the ‘interrogation’. Which is absolutely insane, because really they should expect any prospective student to have questions. And they should be prepared to answer them. That should be a part of their job, right??

But there’s this attitude of, “We don’t need to explain ourselves to the likes of you,” of, “Just be grateful you have a place here at all.” And that’s what puts Jason over the edge, has him realizing that this isn’t something he’s going to be able to deal with.

It’s after he gets more or less the same reception at the third place they’ve visited, that he finally just has to leave. He can’t take it, he can’t stand it, he has to get out of the office before he bites somebody’s head off.

He gets outside as quickly as he can, and feels some relief breathing in the fresh air (fresh by Gotham standards at least). He feels so stupid for believing he could have this. Really he should have known better. And he hates feeling stupid more than anything.

Superman trails out after him. And Jason can’t figure out what he’s still doing here. And he’s embarrassed to be upset in front of him. And he’s angry that he feels embarrassed when he doesn’t have any good reason to be. And-

“Jason.”

His name ends up cutting through the disorientation he hadn’t quite realized he was experiencing.

Superman is in front of him, just far enough away that he can’t reach out and touch him. Jason stares at him.

“This is shit,” he says, trying to keep his voice casual.

“What happened?”

They had offered to go in with him to meet the dean of the first school. Jason had turned them down, and they hadn’t offered any of the subsequent times. He hadn’t exactly been keeping them apprized of what was going on either, even though questioning him wasn’t something they had given up on after it had failed to yield anything the first time.

“The same thing that always happens,” Jason says. “No one really want someone like me at their fancy school.”

Superman’s eyes narrow.

“What happened?” He asks again. “What did he say?”

“Doesn’t matter… Look, this has been fun and all, but I kinda just want to go home. So if you don’t mind-“

Batman appears with them as quickly as he’s able to disappear. Neither see where he comes from. He’s just suddenly walking toward them, meeting them, and continuing on without slowing down.

“We’re leaving,” he grunts.

Jason hesitates briefly, confused. But then his thoughts catch up to him enough to realize that leaving is exactly what he wants to be doing, and he hurries after Batman.

The heroes are deeply engrossed in their own conversation as they make their way off the grounds. It’s soft, and urgent, and Jason assumes it has something to do with the fate of the world, which he’s vaguely interested in. But he doesn’t think they’d appreciate him asking questions about things that don’t directly concern him. So he says nothing.

As they get closer to the street he realizes he’s not sure what happens next. He’s feeling tired, and frustrated, and he both really wants to be alone, and doesn’t want them to leave him. Mostly- at least so he tells himself- he wants to make sure that they don’t leave him without bus fare. He’s pretty sure they’ll give it to him if he asks, but he’s also hoping that he doesn’t need to ask.

Once they’re off the property, Batman turns around to face him.

“Jason, I’m so sorry. I don’t know exactly what Dean Sterlins said to you, but if it was anything like what he was saying while I was in there, it was way way out of line.” He starts off sounding tired, and ends up sounding angry.

Angry grownups are something that Jason generally tries to avoid, but Batman’s anger doesn’t feel particularly dangerous, and as he goes on it shifts into something more like urgency.

“Please believe, we never would have knowingly put you in that situation. I- Were the others the same?” There’s a hint of resignation in his tone that suggests he already knows the answer to that, so Jason doesn’t feel the need to do more than shrug.

Batman sighs, and it comes out as such an unexpectedly sad sound that he almost snorts out a laugh.

“Why didn’t you say something before?” Superman asks gently.

Because he had been holding out a stupid hope that if he stuck with this long enough he might find something worthwhile. Because he didn’t want to give them a reason to believe he’s more trouble than he’s worth. Because it didn’t occur to him that they might genuinely want to know until literally just now.

He shrugs. The heroes exchange a look.

Jason’s grip on the book Batman gave him tightens slightly, and he clears his throat.

“Look, uh, I’m sure there’s somewhere else you guys need to be. I appreciate you taking the time to…” He gestures around. “You know.”

“There’s no where else we need to be today,” Superman says.

“Oh… Okay?”

“There’s one more place we’d like to take you,” he continues. “If it’s all right with you. It’ll be the last one.”

Jason wrinkles his nose. He kind of just wants to go home at this point. The optimistic ‘maybe the next place will be different’ feeling he’d had at the beginning of the day has long since shriveled. And curling up with his new book sounds pretty nice right now.

But at the same time, the last three visits have all included opportunities for free food. It stands to reason that this next one will as well. That should make it worth it even if he already knows with near certainty that they can’t be heading somewhere where he might actually have a future. Plus, Superman has this dumb, hopeful look on his face that it’s hard to say no to.

So he takes the bus with them to a fourth location. The ride’s a little less than half an hour long, and the building they arrive at looks different from the campuses they’d been to earlier. It’s not huge. The architecture is pretty simple by Gotham standards. It’s more immediately recognizable as a school.

They go inside, and Batman stops to exchange a few brief words with a woman in the front office.

“There’s a seventh grade English class starting in about ten minutes,” he informs Jason afterwards. “Would you like to sit in on it? We can meet back here afterwards.”

Jason agrees eagerly. This was the part of the last three trips that he’d actually liked. Maybe he can get in and out without needing to sit down with any deans or headmasters.

He attends a class where the students aren’t wearing uniforms, where he gets a few curious glances, but no lingering glares. He gives a note from the woman at the front desk to the teacher, and a few kids offer him greeting nods or smiles before the lecture begins.

The class is more than halfway done, and he’s been deeply engrossed in a discussion about The Giver- which he has never read, but now fully intends to- when all the observations he’s been making about this place click together.

The class ends, and he meets his chaperones back in the hall- where Superman is entertaining a group of ten year olds- to inform them of his realization.

“This isn’t a boarding school,” he says, once the rest of the kids have shuffled on to their next classes.

“No it is not,” Batman agrees.

Jason scowls.

“I stopped going to regular school for a reason,” he reminds them. “I can’t do this. As in literally can’t. I tried!” He’s trying not to sound upset, but it feels like they’re teasing him with this one.

“School’s a lot to manage without a stable living situation.” Batman says.

Jason huffs out a low agreement.

“So we were thinking…” He looks around, as if confirming the hall’s emptiness, before stepping into Jason’s line of sight. “We were thinking you could come and stay with us, and we could bring you to school here.”

Jason’s mind doesn’t process the offer fast enough for him to react immediately. Even once he’s sure of what he’s heard he thinks he must be misunderstanding. He looks up and at each of them try to draw clues from their expressions, their body language. It’s nearly impossible to do with Batman. Superman looks open, honest, and… hopeful. But that’s how he always looks, so does it really even mean anything?

Unable to make any useful interpretations, he asks the only question his mind has been able to form.

“What?”

“Would you like to come and live with us?” Superman says clearly.

Jason continues to stare for several seconds.

“Both of you?” He asks, because that’s interesting, and far easier to comprehend than the idea that someone might want him.

Batman clears his throat, and Superman-

-Superman blushes, which is enough to distract Jason from all the bizarre turns this day has taken.

“And, um, and our son,” he adds. “We have a son. He’s about five years older than you.”

The gears in Jason’s brain turn and click together.

“Robin,” he says quietly.

The vigilantes exchange uncertain looks, like they’ve been doing all day.

“Nightwing now,” Batman says, barely loud enough to be a whisper.

Jason just nods, because this is insane, and despite being born and raised in Gotham, he doesn’t always have a prepared response to insanity. A long moment passes, and all three of them stare at each other.

“Y- you want to foster me?” He says the words so so carefully, like he could chase the reality of them out of existence if he misspeaks, like he’s sure he hasn’t understood them properly.

“We do,” Superman says, quickly enough that the breath that had caught in Jason’s throat as soon as he’d gotten the question out can escape before it gets the chance to make him light headed. “We really do.”

Jason can’t imagine how this will work. He’s pretty sure it’s not a process that can be undergone with fake identities. Does that mean they’re willing to let him know who they are? Or maybe there’s some kind of exception for super heroes. He understands the procedure well enough to know that it’s bound to be a bureaucratic nightmare.

“Yeah,” he finds himself saying before he’s done thinking it through.

Today has been weird, and exhausting. But he likes this place. And he’s pretty sure he likes these people. And really, he would be crazy to say no, wouldn’t he.

“Let’s try it.”

#batfam #batfamily #superbat #bruce wayne #clark kent #jason todd #dc #my writing #batman #superman #batman and robin

[carnelianns]

Hi! If requests are open, can I get how the IkeVamp Boys (Napoleon, Arthur, Leonardo, Comte, and Theo if I have to choose) would react to their s/o being a mercenary and/or assassin in her time? Thanks.

Napoleon Bonaparte

He can't help but to be wary. Threats against his life were not rare — he can count on more than a single hand how many failed assassinations there were. 

In fact, although he was the first to help you when you entered the mansion, he couldn’t help but feel a bit.. off whenever he’s around you.

But that doesn’t hinder him from interacting with you — after all, everyone has their own secrets, and, well, he was the former emperor of France, so.

And when you finally do tell him your previous occupation, all he can do is let out a tiny, “Oh.”

He’s shaken — hopefully not visibly, but you’re far too perceptive to not notice — and it takes quite a bit of silence for him to straighten up once more. 

It’s how you bite your lip, the way you fidget ever-so slightly with your hands, the shadow overthrowing your face that gets him to smile softly in a way that you always do, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

“Nunuche. There’s no point living in the past.” A faraway look enters his eyes for a split second before cerulean meets your eyes once more. 

“What do you say we learn together? How to live in the present, I mean.”

And surprisingly, the two of you grew even closer after the secret was out. 

You partake in a little game wherein the both of you try to “assassinate” one another by lightly hitting each other at a certain spot. Napoleon is terribly good at dodging your sneak attacks at the last second. 

This is also an explanation for those moments you end up being cuddled by a groggy Napoleon, not intent on letting you go as punishment for trying to assassinate him in the morning. 

“Can I please get up? Sebastian’s going to kill me.” 

He huffs, but there’s a small smile on his face as he buries his head into your hair. “Maybe you should think twice before trying to kill me in my sleep then.”

Leonardo da Vinci

All this man really wants to do is to make you smile, so when you enter the mansion practically exuding melancholy, he’s, well, determined. 

The way he’s somehow always in your vicinity is uncanny, though you don’t really mind. 

Leonardo is actually very comforting once you get to know him and his tendencies, so it’s no surprise when you end up leaning on him and confiding in him. 

He’s silent for a long while, shock encompassing his features, before he clears his throat, shooting you a roguish smile.

“For someone as bright as yourself, I wasn’t really expecting that to be your job, cara mia.”

He doesn’t really mind after. As long as you aren’t, well, assassinating people now, there’s no point in fussing over it. 

He entertains your curious ramblings, and even goes out with you to buy, uh, assets. Leonardo always busies himself with god knows what as you look at different types of knives.

You do catch him staring at times. And when he notices your questioning gaze, he simply smiles, all sorts of soft and gentle. 

It’s unfair, how breathtaking Leonardo da Vinci actually is.

“It must be hard to let go of something as dark as what you once were, but I’m glad I get to see the smile on your face much more now.”

Arthur Conan Doyle

It’s common knowledge that Arthur is awfully perceptive, be it from his career as a writer, or as a doctor, or both. 

He picked up on your little habits, how your footsteps are barely audible, the way you tense ever-so slightly when people get too near. 

And how it looks as if you have a horrid burden weighing on your shoulders, no matter how hard you try to hide it. 

Of course, he doesn’t push on it. He never does. Just stays the same old Arthur, the rotten flirt and the man you find yourself laughing with in a lot of situations. 

Surprisingly for him, he was the first person you told about your past job. And honestly? It’s not just rainbows and sunshines. 

As kindly as possible in an attempt to not hurt your feelings, Arthur excuses himself from the room and from you, not even talking to you until a few days after the conversation. 

“I know it was horrible of me to leave for days, and I apologise once more. But I’ve been thinking, and,” he meets your gaze, slightly faltering at your bitten lip and the nervousness radiating off your form. “Are you okay?”

… What. Your confused gaze warrants a bitten lip from him this time, Arthur messing with his hair.

“Although your previous job was, well, immoral, it must have been hard, mustn't it?” And kneeling in front of your seat on your bed, you meet his smile — a genuine one. 

“I’m here for you, love. You can tell me anything, yeah?”

And so it was that you opened up to Arthur Conan Doyle that night, who happily held you in his arms, not once leaving or letting go. It’s a common occurrence now. 

“The little bird slept like a baby in my arms last night, really.” You hear his teasing voice waft out from the living room the next day.

He has no time to think before you sprint out of the kitchen with a kitchen knife in hand. Theo only smiles in delight as he hears the yells of his previous chatmate, sipping his coffee in peace. 

Theodorus van Gogh

Someway somehow, you managed to befriend the snarky Dutchman. 

Befriend as in he doesn’t mind your presence nor does he mind teasing you until you practically explode. 

And from a man filled with secrets to another, Theo is very much aware that you have something to hide. When you do tell him what that is, he’s silent. 

Much like Arthur, he has to take a few days off and away from you to clear his thoughts. Not to the point of leaving the room whenever you enter, but he certainly doesn’t engage in conversations with you unless necessary. 

“Hondje.” You perk up at the familiar voice filling your ears, turning your head to meet the man. “You’re.. You’ve changed, right? So let’s.. let’s start talking again…”

He definitely struggled. “Did Vincent tell you to say that?”

“Of course he did,” he scoffs, then averts his gaze, ears tinged the slight shade of pink. “But I do mean what I said…”

Chaos ensues when the two of you are finally seen together again. The residents don’t mind — it’s awfully entertaining when they see Theo getting put in his place.

“Theo’s being lectured again! Living room, now!” Arthur hollers through the halls like it’s a long awaited event, and soon enough, about half the vampires are in the room.

“Your threats don’t work on me anymore, knabbeltje.” “Oh? Then perhaps I have to turn the threat into reality now, don’t I?”

Arthur, Vincent, Leonardo, and Napoleon share a laugh at Theo’s silence. Poor guy, really.

Comte de Saint-Germain

Comte has a little habit of observing you, seeing if you’re alright and whatnot, so when he sees your distrusting countenance, he’s quick to think of what may be bothering you. 

He’s asking you if you need anything, if you want anything, if you wish to tell him anything. And, of course, telling you “Should you need someone to confide in, I am always here.”

And so you do. You spill your secret, and the surprised look on his face is instantly wiped off with a gentle smile, his comforting voice filling your ears.

“I’ve witnessed a lot of things in this life of mine, ma chérie, and though I do admit that’s surprising, do not fret; I’m not the type of person keen on abandoning others.”

He’s far too understanding for his own good. It warms your heart.

Honestly, he quite enjoys how carefree you’ve become after you spilled your secret — the image of you happily sparring with an equally enthusiastic Jean and Napoleon is something he thinks back on constantly. 

“... I may have to think about your request.” He falters at your pout, hoping you didn’t pick it up.

“But you said you’d grant any wish of mine.” 

“Indeed I did, ma chérie, but guns and knives are different.”

His pointed look only causes your pout to deepen. It’ll take a lot more begging for the man to grant your wishes.

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikemen vampire x reader #ikevamp x reader #napoleon bonaparte #leonardo da vinci #arthur conan doyle #theodorus van gogh #theo #comte de saint germain #comte #headcanons

[the-nysh]

The eng translation for 137 is already mangadex. I'm- wow.. So the higher up is the founder of Neo Heroes Mr.Fuzzy, Shibabawa's grandson? And he's the one who prohibited Erimin and Destro to turn Metal Bat into cyborg? And they're currently doing background's check on Metal Bat bc they thought he's a spy suspect from Hero Association?? That's why in the end Mr.Fuzzy looked through Metal Bat's data from McCoy? Also, Blue wanted to talk with Saitama?? So much informations in this chapter waah ONE why did you do this to us.. What I took from this, there was a mutual distrust between Hero Association and Neo Heroes.

Btw idk if Blue is confirmed a cyborg or not, but he said that he needs some maintenance on his "lenses" 👀👀

Wah! Here we go. Once again, there’s so much to unpack!

During the flashback with Metal Bat vs the guards, he was all ‘ayyy guys, don’t worry, I won’t kill ya!’ :D

Only for Destro to be like: ‘I’ll rip his heart out.’ 💀 Straight out of a nightmare-fueled horror. Naw, no ‘whoopsie’ mistake here; these stone-cold terminators were dead-set on harvesting his body to become a ‘splendid cyborg warrior’ *cough* experimental ‘high-quality’ puppet. D8

Which is why their reactions to Blue’s interception and Mr. Fuzzy’s orders caught my attention. (Also lul, what a ONE-like name. :P Plus since he’s inherited the seer’s powers, well that kinda answers the problem with previously Psykos -still incapacitated- as the only one with useful knowledge. Maybe his ‘sight’ is only ‘fuzzy’ compared to hers, but now at least there’s one other person who potentially knows the future disaster prophesied to befall their world. Who is once again, as if we haven’t seen this tried a million times before, driven to ‘lead’ the world too. Here we go again~)

(’Jumping the gun,’ pfft my ass.) The way the guards look genuinely caught and put on the spot in the left panels here, like ‘oshit that was close,’ like the Neos aren’t their true masters who they’re tasked to follow those direct body snatching orders from, but they must pretend to put on airs here like the hired guards they are. (Also Blue, you’re too trusting!) Meaning, they likely have their own agenda (from the Organization?) they’re following, separate and only partly in line with what the leader of the Neo Heroes wants. Also, how they can’t risk angering Blue (who looked very ready to fight them over Metal Bat) and tumbling apart their whole forged ‘alliance,’ for now... How convenient the Neo Leader, Fuzzy, stopped everything here.  

What’s also interesting is how they underestimated Metal Bat’s latent strength. Thinking he’s one of the ‘lowest’ from S Class, and issuing him one of their bats they thought was ‘quite strong’....only for it to break under one solid blow of his force vs Destro’s head. :O Which Metal Bat notes the bat is ‘flimsy,’ with odd smoke coming out of it (I’m thinking, that’s his power the bat wasn’t tailored to withstand, and/or he wasn’t used to it yet), and that’s one of the reasons why they were able to take him off guard and subdue him with darts. Hmm. It’s like they couldn’t fully calibrate him; his ‘body’ caught their interest of course, but they had no idea by just how -much- he was capable of once revved up. The way they’re shocked at him breaking the chains after walking around for a bit while sedated shows that too; I bet they never calculated that happening either. Oho! Just how much is wc Metal Bat truly capable of? Unknown, but it feels we only got a tease (and not a showcase) of his abilities for now. 

(Ohhh~ They’re shook seeing him suddenly able to do that.) They allow him to walk away, under surveillance and confined from leaving the facility (oh boy, also their comment, ‘we’ll make sure no one lays a hand on your family Zenko,’ is a bit worrisome in the meantime too), while they investigate any espionage activity it seems. They suspect the HA wants to crush the Neos from the inside, but both Fuzzy and Blue’s shared sentiment that they should rather work together for the betterment and survival of humanity is a YES?! (Only...they seem oblivious to the Organization’s ties behind the scenes, likely using them as a front.) And that McCoy! Giving Fuzzy all the data to ‘control’ Metal Bat. I can’t help but feel he’s a piece of trash for selling out the S Class to make himself big at Neo, gah.

Now that Blue...looks like he does have some non-human enhancements by the way. 👀 Looks to me like his lenses, whether cyborg or implanted contacts, were to assess the ‘enemy signature’ from Erimin and Destro; how convenient they needed maintenance now, or he could have spotted more evidence on which to act. But he has a firm drive vs Blast and an honest but very naive sense of baby justice at heroing on his shoulders (making it easy for the adults to manipulate him imo), and wants the heroes from both associations to be allies. I find it really funny he took his meeting with Saitama in the Victim’s Assoc. the other day as his credentials to sway considerable influence and respect among the HA. X’D Oh no... (The HA higher ups are clueless about Saitama! Barring Bofoi’s observations about him, at least...) Thinking Saitama’s the key to relaying Blue’s message to the top...hoo, well good luck with that! Again I won’t be surprised if Saitama doesn’t even remember who he is, so witnessing Blue’s attempt to negotiate thru him shall be fun. :’D Let’s see how far he gets next time!

#opm #metal bat #webcomic spoilers #commentary #long post #Anonymous #replies #waaah this time the translation came out while i was asleep #anyway here's a summary of my thoughts and main observations that caught my attention

[thefanficmonster]

Some Fun

Connor Walsh & Michaela Pratt (How To Get Away With Murder)

Warnings: Spoilers for HTGAWM Season 1&2, Swearing, Sleazy/Creepy Behavior, Mentions of Heartbreak, Alcohol

Genre: Platonic Fluff, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: While the Keating 5 is out enjoying the first time they have been allowed to let loose in a long while, Michaela finds herself nursing a broken heart following the debacle with Levi. Sadly, heartbroken girls seem to be a magnet for sleazy guys at clubs.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Hope you had a great commencement ceremony, sending you my biggest congrats and hugs! Sorry you had to experience such an important event online and not IRL, but I still hope you got to make the most out of it and celebrated your success safely :) Hope you enjoy the fic as well hehe. Love, Vy ❤

“Girl, you weren’t even together for two weeks!“ Laurel says, handing Michaela her lipstick while the two fix their appearance in the bathroom they were happy to find empty at the club where they’re currently celebrating having avoided going to prison for the nth time. “I’m surprised you’re not over him already.“

“Honestly...“ Michaela trails off, pausing just as she’s about to apply the lipstick, “In two weeks, he made me feel more than Aiden ever did.“

Laurel rolls her eyes exasperatedly, “Either that or you got too attached too soon. No offense, you seem to have real shit taste in men.” Seeing the glare her friend is sending her in the reflection of the mirror, Laurel quickly defends herself, “I said no offense! Can you really say I’m wrong though?”

Michaela rolls her eyes, applying the nude shade of lipstick before gracing her friend with the reply she already knew she’d hear, “I can’t, you’re right. But that’s not helping my current situation in any way. So, care to share any helpful advice?” She turns to look directly at her with this strict and annoyed yet somehow still soft look in her eyes.

Laurel takes the lipstick from her and drops it in her purse, “There’s a bar out there with surprisingly cheap drinks and a ton of hot guys surrounding it. I’ll let you guess what I’m insinuating.”

Michaela’s face contorts in a displeased expression, “A hook-up with one of those lowlifes who waste their lives at underground bars like these? No thanks, I’d rather wallow in my sorrows.” She shakes her head with evident disgust and repulsion, her shoulders tensing at the mere thought of hooking up with anyone before seeing full info about said person. It’d be an understatement to say Levi only fueled her already existing trust issues that were already present even before Aiden. Laurel’s definitely right about one thing - all the ‘luck’ she’s had with guys throughout the years has led to these trust issues upon trust issues, creating a mountain-high pile of distrust.

“No, fuck no! I’m talking fun. Dancing, drinking, flirting and then going home alone, not with one of those assholes.“ Laurel explains, “See, that’s your problem, Michaela - you can’t just have fun with a guy and forget about him, can you?“ Michaela inhales sharply as though she’s about to snap a retort to shut her friend up, but she finds herself lacking words to say so she closes her mouth and clenches her jaw as her eyes wander around the white-tiled bathroom. Realizing she won’t be talked to hell, Laurel continues with a tad bit more caution this time, “Have you ever even tried to do that? Have fun and then dump a guy?“

Bracing herself to be laughed at and teased for her answer, Michaela bites her lower lip and shakes her head. It’d be a blatant lie if she said she had tried. Her and Aiden were high school sweethearts and she had never even gone on a date before meeting him. Following the break of their engagement, she threw herself into work and didn’t allow herself much partying or drinking out of fear she might start regretting the decision to call it all quits. Sober, she knew it was the right thing to do, so sober she stayed. And then she met Levi and fell for him almost immediately, distrust after Aiden be damned. So, in conclusion, this is her first time finding herself in a party setting in a very long while. Single and in a party setting, that is. Ok, single, heartbroken, and in a party setting. A perfect combination for getting drunk and letting loose. Laurel might have a point.

“In that case...“ She says, taking Michaela’s hand and giving her a mischievous smile, “Let’s break your ice.” She proceeds to drag her friend out of the bathroom and into the club where they get a friendly reminder of how loud the music really is. The bathroom must have one hell of sound isolation, considering the two girls nearly get deafened when stepping back onto the main and oud scene so abruptly.

The club is as crowded as it is loud and they have already lost sight of the male half of the Keating 5, but neither of the girls seem to care as they make their way to the bar, ordering themselves vodka shots which Laurel takes upon herself, winking at Michaela and mouthing the words, “My treat for your first time.”

Smirking, Michaela accepts the offered dose of alcohol, clinking the shot-glass against Laurel’s before they down their first of many shots for the night.  With each rush of vodka going down her throat, Michaela finds herself getting more and more relaxed, loosening up and she’s even starting to consider accepting the offer Laurel posed earlier about moving the party over to the dancefloor. The tipsy chat they’re having is lighthearted and fun, often swerving because of their inability to focus on one topic for too long without bursting out laughing.

Eventually, the two are interrupted by someone familiar but someone they weren’t expecting to see.

Michaela spots him first, “Frank? Who the hell invited you? Were you sent here to babysit us? We’ll pay you to leave if that’s the case.“ Yeah, after a few rounds of shots it’s safe to say she’s lost any kind of thought-to-speech filter and is being 100% honest which is quite amusing to observe.

At the mention of that name, Laurel whirls around in her bar stool, eyes wide when they meet Frank’s, “Wonderful, Annalise has sent her hitman to keep a watchful eye on us.“

Surprisingly unbothered by Laurel’s comment, he smiles, “Nice to see you too, Laurel. And no, I wasn’t sent by anyone. You just happen to be at a bar a buddy of mine owns. A bar I frequent too.” He explains, his claims backed up by the lack of his professional suit that has now been replaced by jeans and a button-down. He glances briefly at Laurel who has turned back around, downing her Margarita with frustration. His smile turns into a smirk as he points at her and turns to Michaela, “Is she bothering you? I can escort her away if she is.” He sends her a subtle wink, clearing up the message for her hazy brain to properly pick up on.

When it does, she returns the smirk right back at him, “Please do, she’s a real party-killer.”

Laurel turns to face her and Michaela can swear on all she’s ever owned she has never received such a betrayed and pissed-off look from anyone. It almost cracks her up to the point of laughter but she knows better than to fuel the the rage fire within her friend at the moment who has already hopped off the bar stool and is slowly being led through the crowd by the aforementioned ‘hitman’. Before she’s completely out of view though, she mouths a quick ‘I’ll kill you’ at her.

That manages to break Michaela down as she starts laughing, calling after her without any hope that she’ll be heard: “I won’t be your first.”

“You could be my first.“ An unfamiliar voice appears right next to her ear, startling her. 

She turns around and sees a guy, a stranger, smirking at her. Even in her drunken state she finds herself unwilling to enter a conversation with him. But then she hears Laurel’s words repeating in her mind, telling her to have fun.

Ok, I don’t really need to like the dude in order to have fun, do I? She thinks to herself, briefly contemplating the whole situation before finally replying.

“First what?“ Her voice has a friendly tone to it - friendly, but not quite flirty.

“First lady to dance with me tonight.“ The stranger replies, “If I play my cards right you may also be the only.“ He winks at her and she can’t help but find it more repulsive than appealing. She finds herself comparing him to Levi all of a sudden, despite the two having nothing in common at least appearance-wise.

In order to push those thoughts away she makes the rash move of offering him her hand, tilting her head towards the dancing crowd, “I don’t know. Let’s test that theory out, shall we?” She definitely sounds more confident than she feels but she’s prepared to do almost anything to get Levi and that whole ordeal out of her mind, so a quick dance with a stranger doesn’t seem like such a big deal.

Oh boy how quickly she regrets it.

The guy has no chill nor patience. He’s handsy right from the get-go: touching her inappropriately any opportunity he gets, grasping at the chance he’s been given seeing as how she has no escape and no room to get further away from him without bumping into other people dancing carelessly. However, when he starts grinding his hips against hers, she’s finally had enough planning her escape and instead chooses to act on impulse.

Looking around the unfamiliar faces for the odd chance she might spot someone familiar, she slowly inches further and further away from him, despite the fact she’s not able to put much distance with his hands on her waist, keeping her close to him. The alcohol seems to have evaporated from her system as she’s in critical survival mode, wanting nothing more than to leave the situation or maybe even the whole club for the night, finding it too uncomfortable to stick around after this event.

And then, like a literal miracle, she spots him and he has very clearly spotted her and is giving her this confused yet concerned frown.

That’s all she needed really. Pushing the stranger’s hands away, she pushes through the crowd, ignoring the people calling after her, calling her names for bumping into them or shoving them a little harder than intended.

“Connor, baby, how’s it going? You’re having fun?“ There’s a grin on her face, but her eyes are screaming ‘help me‘ at him. Something he clearly doesn’t pick up on because the frown of confusion remains mounted onto his face.

However, before Connor could reply, the creep has appeared next to her yet again, having followed after her from the spot they were dancing at, “Is this your boyfriend?“ He asks, not hiding how pissed and disappointed he is by the sudden emerging of Connor.

Michaela parts her lips to answer but Connor beats her to it, “Yeah, her boy space friend who has a boyfriend. And you are?“ He narrows his eyes, analyzing the guy’s face as much as he can in the dark, vaguely strobe-light illuminated club.

“Interested in the young lady.“ The creep smirks, giving Michaela a once-over look, taking in her body from head to toe with a gaze that makes her shiver with disgust.

Connor, thank God, picks up on this and takes a step forward so that he’s standing between the guy and Michaela, a serious and intimidating look on his face. “Well, she’s not interested in you. Go find someone willing to put up with your inappropriate and downright disgusting behavior.”

The creep laughs, his jaw clenching as he licks his lips, frustrated that things aren’t going the way he’d like, “Whatever. She’s a 4/10 anyway. A four who thinks she’s all that with her head in the clouds and playing eye-candy and then running away. I know her type quite well.” He shoots a look at her over Connor’s shoulder before turning around to walk away.

Michaela is not at all bothered by his words, she’s just glad he’s off her back. However, she can tell Connor is far from done with the case, seeing as how he takes a step to go after the guy and go off on him. To avoid further complications of what’s supposed to be a fun night after so much stressful shit in their lives, she quickly takes hold of his arm to stop him in his intentions.

“Connor, let it go, it’s ok. Let him be. Don’t waste your time and energy on a sleazy fucker like him.“ She tells him, gripping tightly on his bicep until he finally turns to look at her, seeming significantly calmer.

“But it’s not ok, Michaela. I was planning to leave.“ He says, his voice stern, “What if I had left? God knows how that asshole would’ve progressed his creepiness. Shit like that’s not ok and it’ll keep happening if fuckers like him aren’t put in their place.“

“There’s no putting them in their place. You think pep-talking him was gonna prevent him from doing the same to another girl in this very bar?“ She looks at him expectantly, knowing full-well she’s proved her point. When he sighs in defeat, she claims her win in the argument and changes the subject, “Also, leaving? Why?“

Connor shakes his head, grimacing as he motions at their surroundings, “All this, not really my scene. Plus I’m starving. There’s a Burger King down the street so yeah, that was gonna be my stop before going home. After all the crap we’ve been through, some of us might appreciate a little partying, but I’d rather have a quiet night in, you know? A fast-food-and-movie type of night.”

A genuine smile spreads across Michaela’s face. “Makes two of us. I prefer partying when I’m completely free from my worries. They just end up resurfacing after a couple drinks.“

Connor scoffs, returning her smile, “Who knew we could have more things in common than the need to be better than everyone else?” This comment actually manages to earn him a laugh from Michaela - something he rarely gets from her so he’s willing to hold onto it as a positive sign for the progression of their frenemy-ship. And so, he pushes his luck, “Wanna accompany me?”

Although surprised by the offer, Michaela feels the sudden urge to accept it without much thought. Even so, she decides to say: “As long as we’re not watching a rom-com, I’m in.”

Connor smirks, “You pick, boss.”

She rolls her eyes, “That’s the problem, I’ll pick a rom-com out of instinct. You know they’re one of the top five medicines for a heartbreak?”

He shakes his head, unamused, “No they’re not.“ He takes her arm by the wrist, guiding her through the crowd towards the exit, “Fast food is though“, he tells her, flashing her a quick smile over his shoulder as he adds, “And ice-cream. My treat.“

Once again left at a lack of words, Michaela just accepts what’s been offered to her. Never did she expect spending the night watching a movie with her main rival would be more appealing to her than partying under strobe-lights but here she is, leaving a club to head for Burger King with Connor and she doesn’t care enough to dwell on what that means for the constant war they’ve had between them. Guess it’s put on hold, but just for tonight.

Who knew wars could be paused by a fast meal and a movie? 

#how to get away with murder #htgawm season 1 #htgawam #htgawm #htgawm season 2 #connor walsh #michaela pratt #connor & michaela #michaela & connor #laurel castillo #flaurel #frank delfino #asher millstone #wes gibbins #annalise keating #bonnie winterbottom #sam keating #levi wescott #fic #fan #fanfic #fandom #fanfiction #platonic relationships #rivals to friends #frenemies #enemies to best friends #request #requests open

[imperialstark]

breathe me in

a/n: this is the fic i promised for my 900 follower celebration! i’ve had this blog a for a while and it’s crazy to think that there’s people let alone 900 of them that care about my stupid opinions on stony. thank you guys so much!

summary: Tony tries to have a heart to heart with Steve after their fight on the Helicarrier and gets more than he bargained for. Set during The Avengers.

rating: Explicit, so explicit

warning(s): tony has self confidence issues but what else is new, heavy smut

edit: this fic has a sequel now!

choke on me—chapter one

—————

Almost dying, Tony decides, really puts one's life in perspective. They weren't kidding when they said your life flashed before your eyes, right up until your last breath. His life flashed alright, in a riot of color and noise, camera flashes, cheers, and jeers alike. And when he opens his eyes, he's greeted by Rogers kneeling over him looking distraught.

His almost death aside (he'll deal with that trauma later) Tony does what he does best to break the tension; he cracks a joke. And because today is just chock full of surprises, Rogers laughs. He laughs, and his eyes are as brilliant as the sky above them. Tony swears his heart stops again. It's happened enough for him to recognize the feeling.  

Tony knows he can be an asshole. He can be rude and obnoxious and interruptive, all very much asshole behaviors. The majority of the time, it's just an act. People have come to expect a show from him, whether they know it or not, and Tony's never been one to half-ass anything. The public wants a rich, smarmy bastard? He can do rich, smarmy bastard. He's the fucking poster boy for rich, smarmy bastard. 

But Rogers, laughing with him, smiling at him after dealing with Tony Stark: Peak Asshole Edition™? It makes Tony pause. The joke isn't that funny (you try coming up with a zinger after sacrificing yourself for the sake of the world), so why is Rogers smiling? It's not that Tony hates himself so much to the point where he immediately distrusts any signs of affection. But Tony's Tony. And Steve is Steve. 

"That's why," he tells himself. "This is Steve Rogers. Being kind is in his blood." There's only death in Tony's. 

"You're a real piece of work, aren't you, Stark?" Steve says, chuckling to himself. There's no heat to his words.

"You wouldn't like me nearly half as much if I wasn't," Tony says and immediately wants to shovel the words back into his mouth. He and Steve aren't friends. Steve isn't like Rhodey or Happy or hell, even Romanov, who Tony's still not sure what the status of their relationship is. 

Instead of rolling his eyes or sighing, that slight smile stays on his face. 

"Okay," Tony thinks. "That's new."

***

Tony's got a new perspective on things. Maybe Rogers isn't that bad. That doesn't mean that they're friends, not even close. But, Tony thinks, as he shuffles from foot to foot outside the soldier's makeshift quarters on the Helicarrier, that doesn't mean he doesn't want to at least try. 

Tony knows how to be the bigger person when he wants to be. 

He knocks on the door, and before he can change his mind and retreat to Stark Tower like a recluse, Steve is opening the door. 

Tony must have caught him while he was stripping out of his uniform; Steve's still wearing the bottoms of his suit, utility belt and combat boots in all. Aside from that, Steve is shirtless. Which is fine. Tony isn't going to question why Steve is shirtless, but it is hard to make direct eye contact with him when his abs are right there in front of Tony's face. And it's not like Steve didn't have time to put on a shirt before he answered the door. 

"Stark?" Steve says. "I'm surprised to see you up and running."

Right. Near-death experience. "I may have bribed the doctors in the med-bay into letting me leave early," he says. 

Steve frowns. Tony's quite familiar with Steve's frowns now. There's the "I can't believe you just said that" frown and the "Captain America is disappointed in you" frown, but this one, Tony can't seem to pinpoint. 

"Your heart stopped."

"After the second time, you get used to it," he says with a shrug. "Look, I didn't come to talk about my medical issues." 

A muscle works in Steve's jaw. Tony shouldn't find it as attractive as he does. "Why did you come, then?"

"I wanted to apologize." 

Steve arches a brow. "For?"

"For being an ass." It comes out sounding like a question. "I...said some hurtful things, and I want to own up to them instead of sweeping them under the rug."

"It wasn't just you," Steve admits. "We both were at each other's throats."

"Still," Tony says. "You're not a lab rat. Not even close."

Steve's lips quirk up. "I'm a step up from rat, now?"

"Yes," Tony says. This is good. Steve is smiling instead of punching him in the face. Tony can handle this. 

"You know...what you did today, that took courage."

Oh, God. Tony doesn't want this to be about him. (Despite popular belief, his ego isn't that fucking big.) 

"Don't even mention it. Please," Tony says. "If you're not gonna let me apologize to you properly, at least let me do something for you, or buy you something. I'm great at buying things."

Steve frowns again, but his interest is piqued. "Like what?"

"I don't know, like a vintage car or something. A blowjob. Whatever floats your boat." Why did he say blowjob, why did he say blowjob, why the fuck did he say blowjob? 

Steve's staring daggers into him. "Did you just offer to blow me?" 

Seriously, why the fuck did he say blowjob? 

"It was a joke," he says lamely. 

"Oh," Steve says, his face dropping and—is Tony crazy, or does Steve actually look disappointed?

"I'm sorry. You don't have to if you don't want to," Steve says. "I thought...you know what, never mind." Steve's retreating back into the safety of his room, a blush flooding his cheeks. 

Tony has two options, and he has to pick fast. He can either let this whole thing go and pretend it never happened, as that seems like it's what Steve wants to do. Or...he can roll with it. 

"Wait," Tony says, grabbing Steve by the arm. His skin is hot to the touch. "It...it wouldn't be a chore or anything." 

Steve swallows, looking Tony up and down. Tony feels oddly naked in front of him like Steve is seeing past every mask he's ever donned. "You mean that?" Steve says.

"I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it," Tony confesses. His stomach twists into knots. During their fight he had thought about Steve pinning him against a wall, wrapping a hand around his throat, kissing his mouth like a savage—

"Yeah?" Steve says, and his tongue darts out, wetting his lips.

"Yeah," Tony breathes. The hallway feels like it's closing in on him. 

Their eyes meet, and it's a matter of seconds before Steve's yanking Tony by his arm into the barrack. 

Tony barely has any time to close the door and observe the room before Steve's on him. 

He's kissing Captain America.

Tony Stark is kissing Captain America. 

Steve kisses like he fights; All confidence and barely restrained power. Tony's back is pressed against the wall, but he can't find it in himself to complain as Steve's tongue finds its way into his mouth. 

Tony doesn't know if they closed the door or not, and that sends an electric thrill running down his spine. Anybody could walk past and see him ready to fall to his knees and give Captain fucking America the blowjob of his life. 

Steve slots his thigh in between Tony's legs, silently prompting him to spread them, and it's no skin off Tony's back to comply. 

Steve's tongue is quick and clever, eliciting moans from Tony's mouth. Steve's a practiced kisser, and Tony's not sure if that bothers him or not. He had assumed that Steve was a precious virgin with 1940s sensibilities, but obviously, he had been with somebody. Tony wonders if it was recent and if Steve still thinks about them in his spare time. 

The thought of Steve with another lover fills him with jealousy, and Tony finds himself kissing Steve harder. He winds his hands into Steve's hair and grinds his rapidly growing cock down on Steve's thick thigh. 

Steve pulls back, chuckling as Tony chases after his lips. 

"You're a needy one, huh?" he says, working at the fly of his tac suit. 

"Like you're any better," Tony says, marveling at how out of breath he sounds. "You can barely get your pants down, you're so eager." 

Steve raises his hands. "Alright, genius, you do it. I'll just stand here and look pretty." 

Tony bites back a smile and instead makes quick work of Steve's fly. 

"Oh, wow," he says softly when he pulls out Steve's cock, already hard and leaking precome. He's not a poet, but he's never seen a dick that looked so...nice. It's so hot in Tony's hands, like a brand. Steve keeps himself trimmed and neat, which makes sense, given the rest of his appearance. 

Tony can hear his heart beating a rapid rhythm in his chest as the gravity of what he's about to do hits him. It's not like he's never given a blowjob before, far from it. But this is Steve. Steve, who lied on registration forms just so he could serve his country. Steve, who freed prisoners of war with little to no help. Steve, who plunged a nuke-laden plane into the ocean without a second thought. 

"Hey," Steve said. "I meant it when I said you don't have to do this if you don't want to. Are you still okay with this?" 

Something in Tony's heart softens at that, and he silently pushes it down. This is a one time only situation. He can't afford to get feelings involved, so instead, he nods. "Yeah," he says, "You think I'd say no to this?" And with that, Tony fully sinks to his knees.

He takes Steve into his mouth before he can ask any more questions. A sharp intake of breath escapes Steve's mouth. Tony's hands come up to rest on Steve's well-muscled thighs. It's hard to breathe at first—Steve is so big, Tony would bet his fortune that he had been like this before the serum too. 

Tony takes his time, and Steve lets him adjust to the foreign weight in his mouth. He breathes through his nose because he's not a goddamn amateur, and settles into a steady rhythm, bobbing his head along the length of Steve's dick. 

Tony savors the little gasps and moans that Steve emits whenever he swallows around him or flicks his tongue a certain way. He commits them to his memory like a raven collects shining trinkets. 

Steve's hand curls into Tony's hair, not necessarily pushing him down, though. Just a steady, almost comforting weight on Tony's head that makes something in the back of his mind purr in satisfaction. 

"You're doing so good," Steve whispers it like it's a secret. 

Tony looks up at him, and Steve looks just as wrecked as Tony feels. The blue of his eyes is naught but a thin ring overtaken by a pool of black. His skin is sweaty and flushed, his lips red and swollen from where he had been biting them to stifle his moons. Tony wants to devour him. 

Steve's fingers tighten in his hair, and Tony's moaning himself now. Steve's eyes flutter shut, his mouth dropping into a slight 'o'. 

"How can someone be so fucking beautiful?" Tony thinks. 

His own cock tents his jeans, leaking precome, but Tony will deal with it later. He's not expecting Steve to return the favor. This is an apology, after all. An unconventional one, sure, but an apology all the same. 

"I'm close," Steve says. "Do you want me to—"

Instead of answering, Tony hollows out his cheeks and sucks. His teeth ghost over a vein along the length of Steve's cock, and Steve's coming with a muffled shout into Tony's mouth. Tony's careful to swallow it all, not wanting any of Steve's come to go to waste. He tells himself that it's just so that there's less of a mess. 

"Jesus, Tony," Steve says, his voice all scratchy like he had been the one on his knees for the past fifteen minutes. 

Tony pulls off of Steve and looks up at him with big eyes, his lashes shining with unshed tears. Something primal crosses Steve's face, and he snaps. The next thing Tony knows, he's being hauled to his feet, and Steve's tongue is down his throat like he wants to become a part of Tony. A pang of arousal hits Tony in his stomach like a sucker-punch at the fact that Steve would still kiss him after what he had just done. 

Steve unbuttons Tony's jeans with deft fingers and shoves one of his hands down Tony's jeans. He finds his cock with ease. Tony wraps his arms around Steve's neck and digs his fingers into Steve's skin as he jerks him hard and fast like he's trying to punish him.

It should hurt. But a savage part of Tony's brain revels in Steve's loss of control. Steve isn't Captain America right now, America's golden boy. He's Steve fucking Rogers, and he's taking what he wants, consequences be damned. Tony doesn't even bother trying to hide his cry when he comes hot and wet into Steve's hand, pleasure lighting up every single one of his nerves as if he has been struck by lightning. Tony's knees tremble, and if it weren't for Steve pinning him against the wall, he surely would have fallen to the ground. 

Steve breaks their kiss and tucks his head into the nape of Tony's neck. 

"God," he says, his voice like sandpaper. "God," he repeats as if that says everything that needs to be said. In a way, it does. 

"Hell of an apology, huh?" Tony says. He's always known how to ruin a moment. 

Steve gives him a breathless chuckle in return. "If that was your apology, I'd kill to see your 'thank you,'" he says. 

"Give me something to be thankful for."

"Yeah?" Steve says, lifting his head up to look at him. His eyes are bright, but there's a glint to his gaze that makes Tony feel like he's being hunted. 

"Yeah," Tony says. Steve's smile cuts like a knife.

#stony #steve rogers #tony stark #stevetony #steve x tony #superhusbands #marvel #mcu #nsfk #imperialstark fic #imperialstark writing #my fic #my writing #this one isn't too long but i'll still put it under a keep reading #lemons #lemon

[hysterialevi]

Eitr | Chapter 10

Fanfic summary: In an alternate universe where the Raven Clan is wiped out, Sigurd ends up being rescued by the son of a Saxon ealdorman, and is tasked with being the boy’s new bodyguard. Upon meeting the boy’s father however, Sigurd soon realizes that the ealdorman is responsible for his clan’s destruction, and secretly plans for revenge while hiding behind the guise of a Norse pagan turned Christian.

Point of view: third-person

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male OC

Author’s note: Thanks for being patient with me guys. I know I’ve been sucking ass in terms of getting these chapters out at a frequent rate, but I really appreciate you all being so understanding with me. Hope you enjoy this part, and thanks again for the support.

This story is also on AO3 | Previous chapter | Next chapter

ONE WEEK LATER

ELMENHAM, THE LONGHOUSE

Oswald threw an incredulous stare at Eivor upon hearing the news, unable to deny the doubt that was settling into his mind.

“The ealdorman of Wedenscire did this?” He asked. “Are you certain?”

Eivor shrugged, fidgeting with his axe as he relaxed in a chair.

“That’s what Gjuki tells me. There is still much information to be uncovered when it comes to the nature of this ambush, but based on what he has brought to me so far, I think it’s safe to assume that Aegenwulf was involved with the attack at the very least.”

The king placed his hands on his hips and began to pace around the room. “I just... I find it difficult to believe that he would act so brazenly -- especially in the middle of a war, no less. Aegenwulf has never been fond of the Danes, that is true, but he is a man of honor; a man of God. If he truly is behind the attack on Ravensthorpe, why would he do such a thing? What reason could he have to treat your people in such a way?”

Eivor sighed, tracing the edge of his blade. “I do not yet know, but his crimes go beyond what happened at Ravensthorpe. He also has my brother.”

That caught Oswald’s attention. “Aegenwulf has Sigurd? Is he holding him prisoner?”

“Not officially, but he may as well be. I have only heard fragments of the entire situation in Forangal, but Gjuki tells me Sigurd is slowly being brainwashed. He bears their sigil, and raises a blade in the ealdorman’s name. He obeys Aegenwulf’s every word, and apparently, has expressed some hesitation in terms of going along with my plans to assault the fortress. There are even whispers that he might convert to Christianity soon. They are turning him into a thrall.”

The Saxon king shook his head in sympathy, gazing blankly at the floor. “I’m... so sorry, Eivor. You’ve made it quite clear how much Sigurd means to you. I can’t imagine what it’s like watching a loved one lose sense of who they are. I wish I could make all this go away with a snap of my fingers, but we’ll need more men if we are to breach the walls of Forangal Castle.”

Eivor rose from his seat, sliding his axe back into its sheathe. “Have no fear, Oswald. We will have the forces we need soon enough. I have just finished securing an alliance in Eurvicscire. A couple more, and we should be ready to get Sigurd back.”

“Good. In the meantime, I will do all I can to prepare. A fragile peace hangs over East Anglia, but if there’s any chance we can save your brother, I’ll be there when you call for me. So will Valdis.”

“Thank you, Oswald.” Eivor said sincerely. “I know I’m asking a lot, but if we don’t rescue Sigurd from Forangal, he could end up dead. Or worse.”

“I understand. This is not something we can simply let go. If Aegenwulf really is at the heart of all this, we must bring him to justice. He has the blood of many innocents on his hands, and that cannot go unpunished.”

Oswald strolled back to his throne, finally having a seat after a long day of work.

“Carry on with your plans, Eivor. I will inform Valdis of what is to come. In the meantime, do your best to keep your head high. I know these are trying times, but Sigurd is going to need your strength if his situation is truly as bad as Gjuki reports.”

Eivor gave him a nod, making his way out of the longhouse. “I know, Oswald. And I will. I’m not giving up on him yet.”

~~~~~~~~~~

THAT NIGHT

FORANGAL CASTLE, SIGURD’S CHAMBERS

Dragging a small stone along the edge of his sword, Sigurd sharpened the blade underneath the pale moonlight as he sat by the window, continuously checking to see if Gjuki had lit the brazier yet.

It had been about a week or so ever since he began searching for Algar’s hidden crypt, and with no further updates to inform Sigurd of what was going on, the man couldn’t deny that he was starting to grow anxious.

What if something had happened to Gjuki? What if he had been caught? What if all this was for nothing? What would he do?

The last thing Sigurd wanted was to think about the possible outcomes that could arise if their plan was foiled, but the thoughts continued to creep into his mind regardless. There were so many risks at hand and so many lives to consider, that he was beginning to wonder if all their effort was doomed to end in futility.

After all, they were heavily outnumbered in this part of England. Aside from Gjuki and his men, Sigurd really had no one else to rely on in Wedenscire. Of course, he had the support of Aegenwulf’s children to back him up, but in the face of true monarchy, he doubted that their approval of him would mean much to the ealdorman in the end.

Still, he supposed there was no use in worrying until he had a solid reason to believe something was amiss. Gjuki had already proven himself to be a skilled warrior in the past, and with Eivor waiting just beyond the horizon to bring Aegenwulf to justice, Sigurd remained confident in the fact that they would reunite someday.

Though, of course, that didn’t mean he wasn’t frightened.

“...Sigurd?” A man suddenly said from behind the door, their gruff voice muffled by its material. “Are you in there?”

The viking placed his sword down and walked over to the entrance, straightening his tunic along the way.

“One moment.”

Swinging the door open with a firm pull, Sigurd paused in surprise when he saw an unexpected face greeting him from the other side, admittedly confused about their presence here.

“Thegn Raedan?” He said. “Is there something you need?”

The nobleman took a moment to observe the Norse in front of him, flicking his eyes up and down.

“So...” Raedan replied quietly, not wanting to wake Forangal’s people, “you’re Sigurd the Lone-Wolf. I apologize for the abrupt visit -- especially at such a late hour -- but I wanted to speak with you face-to-face. After all, I don’t think you and I have had the chance to sit down and have a proper conversation yet, have we?”

“No, we haven’t.”

The Saxon quirked a brow at him. “...May I come in?”

Sigurd stepped to the side, allowing him entry. “Of course, my lord.”

Walking into the dimly-lit chamber, Raedan strolled towards the window and leaned against the wall beside it, resting a hand on the hilt of his sword as Sigurd closed the door behind him.

“So,” the viking said, “what did you wish to speak about?”

Raedan was quiet for a second. “...Well, a few things. But mainly, my wife. Moira. You’ve met her a handful of times by now, haven’t you? I know she’s been giving you some trouble since we first arrived, and I’m sorry about that. She is a good woman, but she’s also very protective. And I fear that the history between our people and yours has been anything but peaceful.”

The viking crossed his arms. “I assume her distrust towards me isn’t without reason.”

The Saxon nodded. “And you’d be correct. I’ll spare you the details, but... just know that she lost her own mother to the vikings. Many years ago. It’s the main reason her father arranged a marriage between the two of us. He wanted to secure an alliance with my family in order to drive the Danes out of their lands. It worked in the end... but at a great cost.”

Sigurd’s tone softened with empathy. “...I’m sorry to hear that. I know how it feels.”

“I imagine we all do, nowadays. Unfortunately. It’s rare to find someone who has evaded the tragedy of this war, and even rarer to find someone who hasn’t been changed by it. But I digress...”

Raedan approached Sigurd, lowering his voice so that it was barely above a whisper.

“May I ask you something, Lone Wolf?”

The Norseman nodded. “Certainly.”

“...From what I understand, you’re quite close to Aegenwulf, aren’t you?”

Sigurd shook his head. “Not particularly, no. In fact, I hardly know anything about him.”

“Is that so? Well, I must admit, that’s somewhat of a surprise. I simply assumed you were friends since he’s allowed you to stay here. Most Danes that cross paths with Aegenwulf end up with a severed head.”

“It was mostly his children who influenced his decision to spare me,” Sigurd explained. “Initially, Aegenwulf was going to have me executed.”

Raedan chuckled softly. “Ah, yes. That’s more what I expected. Still, it doesn’t sound like the Aegenwulf I knew all those years ago. He’s always been a stern bastard, mind you, but... I feel as if he’s changed lately. And not for the better.”

Sigurd recalled what Edric told him. “Well, he did lose one of his sons.”

“Aye. Gareth. I heard about that. Such a horrible death, and one that I fear has left Aegenwulf in a perpetual state of despair. He always puts on a smile when he’s around me, but I can’t help but feel as if it’s no more than a facade.”

The viking picked up on his tone. “You’re worried about him?”

“I am. That’s why I came to you. I hate to talk about a man behind his back, but I thought you might know something that could help. Seems he’s keeping secrets from everyone these days, though.”

Sigurd couldn’t hide the sharpness in his voice. “Not everyone.”

“Oh? You have someone in mind?”

The Norseman sighed out of hesitance, somewhat reluctant to answer the question. Part of him trusted Raedan to handle information like this with an objective mind -- he seemed quite rational, after all -- but the other part regretted saying anything in the first place.

Still, he wondered if it’d be best if someone from outside of Forangal knew the reality of the situation. Sigurd wasn’t willing to open up to Raedan about everything just yet, but... maybe it could’ve helped if one of Aegenwulf’s oldest allies had the gist of what was going on.

He only prayed he wasn’t wrong.

“...It’s Algar.” Sigurd finally confessed.

Raedan furrowed his brow. “Algar? You mean Aegenwulf’s housecarl? What about him? Have you noticed anything strange?”

“Nothing specific,” he lied, “but it doesn’t take much to see that he’s influencing Aegenwulf’s way of thinking -- and not in a good way.”

Strangely enough, the other man didn’t seem too shocked. “Yes... I’ve heard the folks in this castle whispering about him. Edric’s mentioned him a few times as well. I get the impression that no one here is really fond of him, and now I’m starting to suspect there’s more to it than mere speculation.”

“Indeed. Everyone I’ve met so far has called him a snake. Perhaps it’d be worth keeping an eye on him--” 

Sigurd came to an abrupt pause, suddenly noticing a lone flame glowing in the distance. It appeared to be coming from the pier just as Gjuki said it would, and he could’ve sworn he saw someone moving around in the shadows.

It must’ve been him.

“Sigurd?” Raedan said, pulling the viking from his thoughts. “Is... everything alright?”

The bodyguard brought his gaze back to the nobleman, quickly conjuring up an excuse.

“Erm, f-forgive me, my lord. I hate to cut our conversation short, but I just remembered I have an important matter to take care of. I’m afraid it can’t wait. If you’ll excuse me...”

Raedan nodded, giving him a casual wave. “Of course, Sigurd. Do what you must, and thank you for lending your ear to this old dog. I’ll keep in mind what you said about Algar, and I think we’d both do best to observe his every move. In the meantime, keep Aegenwulf’s children safe, understand? I don’t know what’s going on with his housecarl, but those little rascals don’t deserve any harm.”

“Understood. You have my word.”

The Saxon began heading for the exit, satisfied with the information he gathered. “Very good. I’ll see myself off, then. Take care of yourself, Lone Wolf. This place is far from safe, and I fear it’ll stay that way for quite some time.” He gave him one last glance. 

“Until we meet again.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A FEW MINUTES LATER

THE PIER

Tugging his hood further down his face, Sigurd stuck to the path as he navigated his way through the darkness, doing his best to stay concealed in the overwhelming blackness of the night.

So far, he had yet to notice anyone tailing him through the wilderness, and the foliage around him remained calm with inactivity, but he couldn’t seem to fight off the sense of dread that was crawling underneath his skin.

It just felt... ominous out here. There was too much silence; too much stillness. The world was devoid of any life during this time of day, and it didn’t reflect the same atmosphere Sigurd experienced when he went hunting with Edric at all. 

Perhaps it was just nerves, he thought. The night always seemed to draw out a certain type of fear from people’s hearts, and the fact that he wasn’t supposed to be out here in the first place certainly didn’t help.

His mind may have been racing with about a thousand different thoughts at the moment, what with all the anxiety that was building up in his chest, but he had to remind himself to stay calm.

Panicking would only make him stand out more after all, and he couldn’t afford to be caught.

“...Gjuki?” Sigurd whispered cautiously, quietly approaching the pier as he stepped into the brazier’s circle of light. “Gjuki, are you there?”

There was no response.

“Gjuki,” He repeated a bit louder, starting to grow concerned. “It’s me, Sigurd. You can come out.”

Still, he received no answer.

Where was that damned bard? He wondered. Had Gjuki been forced to flee prematurely due to some sort of threat? Or had Sigurd simply mistaken this flame as his signal?

He assumed the fire had been lit by Gjuki, considering that this pier was abandoned. No one else had any reason to make use of this place, and the timing of its appearance had to be more than just a coincidence. 

Though, in spite of all that, the bard remained nowhere to be seen. There was no trace of Gjuki lying around the vicinity, and if Sigurd looked closely enough at the wooden floor of the pier, he could’ve sworn he saw some type of red liquid staining its surface.

Wait a minute. 

Was that...?

“Hello, Lone Wolf.”

Whirling around at the sudden voice, Sigurd barely had any time to react before he felt the sharp sting of an armored fist bashing him in the face, causing him to fall to the ground.

He heard a group of footsteps swarming him as soon as he hit the floor, and within the blink of an eye, a pair of men had grabbed him by the arms, restraining him in their grasp.

“Hold him down!” A familiar voice bellowed over the commotion.

Sigurd struggled violently in their grip and desperately attempted to break free, only to receive a firm kick to the stomach. His head was still spinning from the initial punch, and now, his organs felt as if they were about to climb up his throat too.

“Stay still!” One of the men barked, shoving Sigurd’s face into the ground as he bent the man’s arms behind his back. But the viking wasn’t done fighting yet.

Despite being somewhat dazed from the attack, Sigurd wrestled even harder with the guards and let out an aggressive grunt, trying to weaken their grasp.

Before he could resist their seizure any further however, a metallic scrape suddenly reached his ears, forcing him to bring his attention to the dagger that was now kissing the flesh on his throat.

“Move one more muscle,” his captor hissed, “and I’ll plant this little beauty straight through your eye.”

Sigurd glared at the man on the other side of the blade, instantly recognizing their face.

“...Algar.”

The housecarl grinned widely, leaning in closer to him as he pulled his hood back. “Well, well. If it isn’t the blue-eyed demon. I had a feeling you would turn up sooner or later, Sigurd. I’m so glad to see you again.”

Sigurd ignored the man’s taunts, focused entirely on the absence of his friend. “Where’s Gjuki? What have you done with him?”

Algar raised a brow. “Oh, you mean the bard? There’s no need to worry about him, mate. I assure you, he’s receiving the exact treatment he deserves.” 

The viking glowered at the malevolence in his tone, horrified to imagine what Gjuki could’ve been going through at the moment.

“I’ll kill you for this, you dog...!” Sigurd growled through clenched teeth.

The Saxon offered nothing but a chuckle in response. “You’ve certainly got a fire in you, Lone Wolf. There’s no denying that. I almost... respect it in a way. But unfortunately, I doubt you’ll be doing anything in your position.”

Algar grabbed Sigurd by the hair, yanking his head upwards from the ground with a hard tug. 

“Did you honestly think I wouldn’t figure out what you and your friend were doing? How blind do you think I am? I warned you what would happen if you defied me, Sigurd, but it seems my threats fell on deaf ears. A shame, really, seeing as how you would’ve made a great warrior. All you had to do was follow our fucking orders. Now though, I’m afraid your fate rests in Aegenwulf’s hands.”

Algar let go of the viking’s hair and stood up from the ground, giving his men a series of commands.

“Tie him up, and bring him back to the castle. I’ll inform the ealdorman of what has transpired here. In the meantime, make sure this one stays put in the dungeons. I don’t want him to see even a sliver of sunlight until Aegenwulf permits it.”

“Right away, sir.” They answered in unison.

“Good. Then our business here is concluded. Oh, and Sigurd?” Algar shot a smirk at him. “Have no fear. I’ll personally see to it that your friend Edric hears of this. Can’t wait to see what he thinks.”

Sheathing his weapon, Algar swiftly walked over to his horse and prepared to return to the castle, dousing the brazier’s fire with a splash of water from the river.

Meanwhile, his men wrapped a cloth around Sigurd’s mouth and secured him with an abundance of ropes, ensuring that the man couldn’t move. Afterwards, they hauled him up from the ground and threw him over the back of one of their mounts, rendering him completely defenseless.

Sigurd was terrified right now. He had no idea what Algar intended to do with him, nor if Aegenwulf would spare him a second time -- and considering the fact that Gjuki could’ve been dead, he assumed he had lost his only chance to discover what the housecarl was doing behind closed doors.

Everything was going to hell. 

Not only would he be a prisoner of Algar’s now, his identity would also be exposed to everyone in Forangal. They would learn his real name, and finally hear the truth of his cryptic background. Edric would believe that his clan was responsible for the death of his brother, and the trust that they had built thus far would crumble into ash.

Blood of Tyr, Sigurd thought to himself. What on earth had done? Would he even survive this next week?

How was he going to contact Eivor now? Were Gjuki’s people aware of what was happening? Surely, Eivor would realize something was amiss with the bard’s disappearance. 

Or perhaps... he would just assume they were dead. Hope was in short supply nowadays due to everything going on in the war, and it wasn’t much of a stretch to believe that Sigurd had been killed whilst in the hands of Saxon enemies. Eivor probably had many other things to worry about at the moment, and the viking could only pray that his brother would be vigilant enough to notice that something had gone wrong.

Otherwise... Sigurd didn’t know what else he would do. There weren’t many chances to escape in a situation like this, and the odds were heavily stacked against him. 

Right now, his only option seemed to be compliance. He imagined his stay with Algar would simply worsen if he fought back, and any defiance would’ve surely swayed Aegenwulf towards a less forgiving approach.

Edric was the one person who had any hope of changing the ealdorman’s mind, and just like before, Sigurd had no choice but to rely on the young man’s help.

He was the only one who could’ve saved him now, and unless his view of the viking changed after hearing Algar’s report, Sigurd hoped he would be able to see reason. 

There was something deeper connecting the two of them, and now, after all this time, he would finally see for himself if it ever actually meant anything.

#assassin's creed valhalla #ac valhalla #sigurd styrbjornson #male oc #sigurd x male oc #ac valhalla fanfic #eitr

[dayseternal-blog]

Summary: Naruto and Hinata join the Twelve Guardian Ninja of the Land of Fire's Daimyo.  (But not really.)  Their mission is to smoke out the rat among them who's selling political secrets to insurgents, while making sure the other Guardians don't figure them out.

Neither can tell when their acting became so convincing.

A fake relationship canon-divergent AU.

Rated E for eventual shameless smut.

Written for @naruhina2020 March - Bodyguard Theme

Chapter 1: Introduction: Motives

She’s called for a mission at an expected time, about 9:00 in the morning, rather than some odd hour of the night.  Whatever it is, it must not be a real emergency.

He uses the rooftops to get to the Tower, as is his preferred route these days, rather than get caught up in conversations with groups of giggling girls.

She enters the Sixth Hokage’s office, surprised to see that Shino is not already there before her.

He makes his way through the hall, wondering who he’ll be partnered with, or if he’ll have a partner at all.

“He never knocks,” Kakashi laments, and right on time, the door swings open.

He excitedly wonders aloud, “Who am I working-”

She honestly can’t remember the last time she worked with Naruto.  Their skills are too similar.  Close combat.  Sensory.  And he’s simply too good to need anyone with the same specialties as him.

“Hinata!  You’re my partner this time?!  This is going to be great!”  He’s not going to fight over stupid things like he does with Sakura, Kiba, and Ino.  He’s not going to be overworked with Lee and Tenten, who are both used to a level of workouts that no one else has been conditioned to enjoy.  He’s not going to be creeped out by Shino.

Shikamaru’s his usual partner.

But Shikamaru’s been out on a ridiculously long mission.

“It must be a tough one if I’m partnering with Hinata,” he casually observes.

She doesn’t say it out loud, but obviously, if Naruto’s on the job, the mission must actually be some kind of emergency.  A or...S-rank. For Naruto to say that something’s going to be tough...

“Yes,” Kakashi starts, hands folding together, lackadaisical attitude turning serious.  “An extended S-rank.  Estimated for a month or longer.”

They kneel before the Fire Daimyo, officially pledging their loyalties to a man who’s never known mud on his cheeks, never seen a comrade fall, perhaps never even broken a sweat in his life.  Yet somehow he carries far more political clout than their own Hokage.

Not our Hokage, Hinata corrects herself.  Or at least, she needs to pretend that she’s no longer a shinobi of Konoha.

They’re Guardians now.

On paper and in the assessing eyes of their new peers, their abilities and bodies belong to the Daimyo, to fight and protect this leader with their lives.

She can feel their judgement boring into the top of her head.  Unlike Naruto, whose reputation precedes him, she’s often underestimated.  Small.  The only kunoichi in the room.  She’ll be tested in some way by the others.  But she’ll do whatever it takes to gain the other Guardians’ trust, and, eventually, smoke out the conspirator among them.

“Uzumaki Naruto.  Hyuuga Hinata,” the Fire Daimyo addresses.

They stand at his call.

“Starting from today, you no longer serve just the interests of Konoha.  You are now shinobi of the Land of Fire.  You lay down your lives for me, you lay down your lives for the entire country.”

In the corner of her sharp vision, she can see Naruto bristling.

It’s no secret that Naruto has never held high regard for this man, whose decisions did very little to help during and after the war, who refused to fund Sakura’s mental health initiative for children, who seems to always defer to the loudest voice in the room.  

If he could, he would tell the daimyo to stick his little speech up his ass.  But he can’t fail, here, now, already, only a few minutes into their undercover mission.  Kakashi made it a point to make clear that he didn’t have to pretend to be anyone but himself...but that he still had to show some level of respect to their political leader.  While they’re out here in the capitol, the daimyo is their only contact to Konoha, the only one who knows of this charade.

After all, he commissioned them.

The reasoning being that the daimyo didn’t want to stir distrust among the remaining Guardians.  They had already caught two informants on their own.  Morale among the rest was high now.

But the daimyo had suspicions that there might be another hiding among them.  Rather than having them turn against each other, he decided that this was an outside job.

And if this man fails to make a good decision in every other area of being a leader, Naruto needs to make sure that at least in this, they do not fail.

Failure could mean a coup d’etat.

Civil War when the rest of the shinobi world is at peace.

They can’t let that happen.

“Your accomplishments and track records in your career thus far have marked you as the strongest and most loyal to our nation.  You join the ranks of the most elite shinobi in not just the country, but in the entire world.  Here you stand among the greatest, and your names will forever be remembered for your service to me.”

Hinata keeps her face placid, not difficult at all for a Hyuuga.

She can only hope that Naruto’s doing the same.

But based on the furrowed brow of one of the Guardians, who steps forward, holding the branded waistcloths out to them, she can deduce that Naruto’s not doing a very good job hiding his thoughts.

They take the waistcloths, tying them on in the same way as the others.

The kanji for Fire emblazoned on their hip, meant to announce their status.

It’s a recognition that neither of them need, but Hinata knows she can’t ignore its meaning.

The ten Guardians who stand lined up before them, gathered from across the country, really are the best, on par with at least her own skills, and needing to take down even just one of them qualifies as an S-rank mission.

They haven’t even left the main office yet when four of the Guardians who were meant to show them the ins-and-outs of the administrative buildings turn them into an empty hall.

“So you think you’re better than us?” snarls one, a bulky man by the name of Geiiro.

“They’re Konoha shinobi.  What did you expect?” laughs Tacchi, his pretty features marred by a long, raised scar cutting through the side of his head.  “Konoha’s Hero, Saviour of this World,” he sneers.  “It’s all gone to his head.”

Naruto holds his tongue.  It was his mistake to not hide his dislike of the old man.  These men are not his enemies.

At least not right now.

Geiiro huffs, “If you have no interest in being out here in the real world, then run back to your ‘hidden’ village.”

Naruto raises a brow at that.  He didn’t know that that’s how the outside villages see Konoha.  But he knows they suffered damages just as much from the war, if not moreso.  And they don’t pledge the same prided allegiance to their country’s Hokage.

If they want to rant, he’ll listen.  He’ll learn.

The tallest of the group, Eizan, steps forward, cocking his head, eyes trailing over her.  “And what about the Hyuuga princess?”

They both tense.

She expected to be tested, but not quite so soon.

“So it’s true what they say.  For you to have accepted a position here…you were replaced by your younger sister,” murmurs Hukukane.  He stands in the back, hands on his hips like a casual observer.

Like a long-range fighter.

She doesn’t care about her sister taking the helm for the clan.  She hasn’t cared about that in a long time.  But she pays careful attention to the men before her, their formation, their “relaxed” stances.

Was this planned from the start?

“So she’s trying to prove her worth to her clan here?” Eizan laughs, earning smirks from the others.  “Pretty little princesses should play at home-”

Her eyes flash up to his, just as his hand grabs at her chin.

“Don’t you fucking touch her!”  Naruto’s rasengan is only centimeters from Eizan’s chest.

The warping chakra is close enough to exert the pressure of a fist pushing against his skin.  

He glares furiously at Eizan, even as the edges of his senses tingle at the knowledge that the others have taken on their own cautionary stances.  “She doesn’t need to prove anything to anyone!”

“Naruto-kun,” she tries, as calmly as she can, hoping she has just enough force in her voice to remind him to stay calm, too.

But Naruto doesn’t budge.  If he doesn’t make a point now, then what else might they do to her?  Eleven men and only Hinata?  Why aren’t there any other women in this group?

It’s just another reason to hate the current daimyo.

“So that really is why he’s here,” Hukukane interrupts.

“Yeah,” Eizan agrees, frowning at the jutsu threatening to burst a hole in his body.

“We all have reasons to be here,” Geiiro says.  “For us, not part of Konoha’s shinobi system, this is a steady job.  Money to send home to our families.”

Naruto reluctantly turns his attention to him.  But he doesn’t back down.

“Money for my younger siblings,” Tacchi adds on.

“I send money home for my wife’s aging parents,” Hukukane continues.  “Believe us, we don’t like the daimyo’s decisions much either.  But he’ll pay us to protect him.  So long as we keep him alive, we have income.”

Naruto turns his attention back to Eizan.  What their stories have to do with this guy touching Hinata, he still hasn’t figured out.  But he’ll let Eizan explain.

“I never had a family.  The Guardians are my family.”

That’s something Naruto can understand.  Still doesn’t excuse the guy from touching and insulting Hinata.

“My family has no room for secrets.”  This time Eizan’s eyes gain a fire that wasn’t there before.  “What are two Konoha shinobi doing here?”

Hinata answers quickly, knowing these men are certainly sharper than they initially seemed.  This confrontation was all a ploy to get them to reveal themselves.  “We wanted to gain insight on affairs outside of Konoha.  Our actions are limited within the village’s walls, we’re under constant surveillance.  We only interact with other Konoha citizens and the occasional visitors or people we meet on missions.”

“For a Hyuuga to say that, certainly that makes sense,” Hukukane responds.  “We figured that.  They say clan lives are stuffy.”

“Naruto-kun,” Hinata tries again.

He lets his rasengan disperse.  He lets a second pass before he finally steps back, closer to Hinata than before.

“Relax, Naruto,” Eizan starts.  “None of us are stupid enough to touch your woman.”

She can’t help the reactive heat that touches her cheeks, even though she knows the obvious implication completely flew over Naruto’s head.

A glance over, and she can see only a contemplative distrust on his face.

“Sealed a goddess, ended the world war, master of the Kyuubi, next in line to be Hokage?  We couldn’t think of any logical reason for someone like you to leave Konoha to join us,” Eizan continues, suddenly conversational.

“But love can make even someone like Naruto make irrational decisions,” Geiiro barks out with a laugh.  “You two don’t have to keep your relationship a secret.”

“What?” Naruto asks, trying to catch up with the shift in atmosphere.

Hinata flushes even worse than before.  She thinks to correct them, but that would only earn worse scrutiny on their reasons for joining the Guardians.

They can’t let them know they’re here on a mission.  Any one of them could be another spy for the insurgents.

So...maybe she needs to play along.  Even if it’s mortifyingly embarrassing.

She just has to make sure Naruto understands, too.

She swallows her own fears.  And steps up to him.

She has to choose her words carefully.  She still doesn’t know what abilities the other Guardians might have.

She closes her hands around her mouth, leaning in toward his ear, knowing it’ll look intimate to the others.

“Hinata?” he asks, finding her pressing against him.

“They know we’re lovers,” she whispers.

“W-what?”  He steps away, eyes wide.  “Hinata-”

She grabs his hand with both of hers, keeping him from backing away too far.  “It’s okay.  It’s better if they know.”  She looks hopefully into his eyes.  Hoping that he catches on.  Hoping he doesn’t say anything in denial.

He just stares at her, mouth wide open, attention shifting down to her hands firmly around his.  She’s acting really touchy with him.  She said they’re lovers when they’re not.  Hinata doesn’t usually act like this, so why-

“You really don’t have to hide it.  We don’t operate on the same rules as Konoha,” Tacchi explains.

She nods, pretending to agree with him.  She blushes harder with what she wants to say next.  But she has to make him understand.  “Naruto-kun,” she calls, as sweetly as possible.  It sounds so embarrassing.  Like she’s really trying to catch his attention.

He looks back up at her, eyes growing wider still at her flirtatious tone of voice.

“This way, maybe we can spend more time together...”  She looks as meaningfully as she can into his eyes.  “...alone,” she adds on, in a whisper.

The other Guardians start laughing and hooting.

She’s flaming red, she knows, she doesn’t remember the last time she felt so hot.

He can see the vibrant color on her fair skin, but he can also feel the searing heat pressing into him from her hands.  He realizes she’s incredibly embarrassed.  She’s not under some genjutsu or trying to play a trick on him.  She’s pretending.  So that they can meet to talk about their mission.  “A-aah, yeah!!” he stutters out, embarrassment belatedly catching up with him.  “W-whatever you want, Hinata!”

“He’s whipped!” hollers Geiiro.  “Poor boy’s got it bad!”

She smiles in relief, trying to ignore the teasing of their new comrades.

He looks down, suddenly very, very conscious of her hands around his.

She lets go of him quickly.

“You two can hold hands!” Geiiro continues, laughing harder and harder.

Hinata shakes her head furiously.  She got her point across, and she needn’t embarrass either of them any further.

And by Naruto’s blushing grimace, she knows she really embarrassed him.

#naruhina fanfic #canon divergence au #no the last #fake/pretend relationship #bodyguard #undercover missions #romance #eventual smut #minor original characters #naruhina 2020 #nh2020 #thank you for reading! #naruhina fanfiction