#biggest real difference is that she fake smiles and tries to be the absolute best
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i think saiki kusuo would get emotional reading mafuyu focus event stories
#girl who rarely shows true emotion and usually masks but her breathroughs are shown by her being upset#vs guy who rarely shows any emotion at all and his breakthroughs are usually shown through him smiling for once#idk how to explain it- like its very different but also exactly the same#biggest real difference is that she fake smiles and tries to be the absolute best#and he hides himself and tries not to stand out#if i could draw i would draw comparisons of their expressions#i like how saiki is in constant shaded and sad eyes mode but mafuyu only gets that when shit hits the fan#saiki k#tdlosk#the disastrous life of saiki k.#saiki kusuo#mafuyu asahina#pjsk#meows post
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Sleepless
Kokichi can't sleep, so he breaks into Maki's room for comfort. And for pain.
[Kokichi/Maki]
[Killing game was VR, Reconciliation, Pre-relationship, Hurt/comfort, regret, insomnia, Introspection, Character Study, Maki POV]
She was still awake when he tried to sneak into her room. She knew that it could only be Ouma, because he was the only one that knew how to pick locks and she always kept her room locked. She picked up the glass of water from her nightstand and threw it as soon as she heard the door open. It hit the wall right beside the door, stopping him in his steps as she sat up to glare at him.
"What are you doing?" she asked harshly. It was hard to remind herself that he wasn't the enemy. That he had never been the enemy. It was all a trick and always had a been. A trick of the Mastermind, trying to divide them. A trick of Ouma's, trying to be the biggest and baddest just to protect himself. Seeing him in her doorframe, small and washed out in the dull colors of a hospital gown, reminded her of that.
"Harukawa!" he said cheerfully, smiling so brightly that she wished she could flip the light switch and turn him off. "I didn't think you'd still be awake."
That was probably true. Ouma had avoided her, and everyone else for the most part, during the day. He was skittish and secretive, which wasn't all that different from when they were in the killing game. It was easier to recognize in the real world though, when they weren't in a literal fight for their lives and she was pre-armed with the knowledge that Ouma was basically harmless.
If anyone was a threat, it was her. She was the one that had the memories and knowledge of having murdered planted into her brain. She was the one that could look at him and know exactly where to strike to hurt him the most. She was the one that had killed him, in a way. Had tried to kill him, over and over, until it finally stuck.
The guilt snuck up on her, in that way. Analysis bleeding into reality, into realization, pouring out of her thoughts and into her heart, into her throat until she choked on it. Choked on all the memories of her actions in the killing game, tripped over the weight of her life persisting when so many others had not, and the knowledge that she didn't deserve it.
She tightened her hands around her bedsheets as she focused on the boy still standing frozen in her doorway. "You didn't answer me," she said.
He was silent as he watched her. His movements were slow as he looked beside him where the mess of water and glass was lying on the floor. He stepped around it, pushing the door closed as quietly as possible, before meeting her eyes again. The smile was gone. Like a light switch, he'd turned it off. She didn't realize that she would miss it.
"Are you really okay in here all alone?" he asked her. He tilted his head, watching her closely for an answer.
"Why wouldn't I be?" she huffed.
"No reason," he chirped, flipping the switch again and placing his hands behind his head. He looked carefree and easy, everything that she knew he wasn't. She'd seen his shoulders hunched during the day, his eyes darting, his hands moving restlessly until he took hold of something to disguise the movement. Shuichi had asked her why she was watching him so closely and she pretended that she didn't know. It was because he was the enemy, had never been the enemy, and she needed to deprogram herself. Didn't know how, without watching for his weak points to tear him apart. (She'd already done so when he was at his best, his weakest, it wasn't fair that her thoughts kept pulling her like this.)
"You have absolutely no reason to be afraid!" He made a wide, sweeping gesture with his arms, with his smile. "You won, after all! You won the whole killing game! No one could touch you even if they wanted to."
The words made something uncomfortable itch under her skin. As did his smile, and the fakeness of his cheer. The entire act made her feel like the bad guy. And she was. Between the two of them, she was the one that knew what it felt like to hold his throat in her hands.
"Some of us weren't that lucky though," he said, dropping his voice, his arms, his cheer, all in one. "Some of us can't sleep through the night because it still feels like someone might sneak into our room in the middle of the night and throw us back in. Or kill us in our sleep."
They stared at each other. She didn't like what she saw in his eyes. She didn't want to know what he saw in hers. Her voice was much more quiet when she repeated her question. "What do you want, Ouma?"
"I want to be on the winning side for once," he told her, slinging himself into the chair in the corner of her room. She didn't understand how he could control each aspect of himself so fully. His voice, his body, his smile, even the air around him seemed to twist on a dime when he wanted it to. "I can't sleep on my own, so I might as well find someone to protect me, right? And you're the only winner that could protect the both of us."
"Why would you trust me?" the question was out before she thought better of it. She didn't want an answer to that. Ouma wasn't like Kaito, who acted on faith. Wasn't like Shuichi, who went where the current pulled him. Wasn't like Himiko, who was too passive to argue one way or another. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see the way he would turn malicious, using their past as a blade to tear her open and watch her bleed.
"Why shouldn't I trust you?" he answered. She was shocked into opening her eyes. "You've already killed me, Harukawa. You've already done the worst that you can do to me. So what does it matter if you kill me again?"
"Stop," she said softly. Too softly. Her voice didn't carry. There was wetness in her eyes.
"We were never supposed to be enemies," he admitted. "I don't want us to be enemies now. Before, I tried to protect you and I failed, and you killed me for my trouble. So I'm trying again. This time you protect me, and if I'm killed for my trouble, then so be it."
"Stop it!" The words broke free more harshly than she wanted. So did the tears. Her body was completely out of her control as she shook and sobbed, a highlight reel of all the times she hurt someone in the killing game flashing in her mind. "Don't..."
He watched her with dead eyes. He was a blank slate, no judgement or empathy to be seen. After a few moments he sighed, leaning further into his chair. "I'm tired, Harukawa. I can't sleep and I'm afraid all the time, but I don't care anymore. I lost the game. Everyone knows that I lost, that I'm nothing. I can't intimidate anyone. I can't protect anyone. I'm not going to try. So maybe if I sleep next to the biggest threat that I know, I won't be worried about someone sneaking in to kill me. I'm already sleeping with a monster in the room, there's nothing left to fear."
There was an apology on her lips, but she didn't speak it.
"But hey, we're the same, aren't we?" he asked her with a smile. "We both got the people we cared about killed. We both tried to bloody our hands to save others. We were both tricked by the Mastermind."
"Do you always do your best to make enemies?" she asked him with a glare. There were still tears in her eyes.
Ouma shrugged. "At the beginning of the killing game, I tried cheering people up and they hated me. And later, I tried to protect them and they still hated me. People hating me is the constant. I can't think of a single person that hates me more than you, Harukawa. No one else deserves to kill me. Either I can trust you or you're the only person suitable to give me what I deserve."
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She said what she should have said when he first walked into the room. "I'm sorry that I killed you." She was sorry for a few other things too, but she didn't say so. He didn't deserve to hear it when he'd made her cry.
"I know," he said softly. "Do you feel better though, getting to cry?"
"What?"
"You're a strong person, Harukawa. You don't cry when you need to, right? Only when something forces the emotion out."
"Did you..."
He closed his eyes with a smile. "It's no good to hold things in, you know. That goes for both of us."
She stared at him for so long that she was pretty sure he actually fell asleep. Once she was sure that he was asleep, she got up and went to the door, checking that it was locked before slipping back into bed. Part of her did want to hurt him still. The thought made another, larger part of her feel sick with guilt. Maybe he was right and she was holding in too much. She wasn't in the killing game anymore. She needed to remember that.
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let's talk about lily evans and the marauders, aka moony, wormtail, padfoot and prongs. given that i didn't use their actual names, i think you can figure out where this is going. it's also long as hell, so. canon vs fanon, marauder edition, except snek is sleep deprived.
now, before we begin, i don't dislike the marauders. or lily, tbh. if I'm being perfectly, genuinely honest, i still go back and forth sometimes but they've been growing on me for a while now. the canon versions, at least. fanon does them real dirty, and that's part of why i'm writing this, because i'm genuinely tired of it. it's an injustice.
you can at least make excuses for james and lily, who were so undeveloped that jkr practically dropped a fill-in-the-blank sheet of character information in our laps, but sirius, remus and peter were around long enough for y'all to get real acquainted with them.
in canon, sirius black is an unhinged mf. genuinely. this isn't to say he's a bad guy, in fact, we see that he's still capable of doing good things, still capable of love, still capable of all the things that prove he's actually not bad at heart, just,,, severely traumatised and very steeped in negativity from his time with the dementors. what i'm saying is that this man is absolutely, no questions asked, no holds barred demented, and how could he not be? the guy sat wrongfully imprisoned in azkaban for twelve years, a good portion of which he spent as a dog in order to protect himself from the dementors. he certainly wasn't completely insane, but you cannot tell me that he was all there. he got out of azkaban fuelled almost solely by the intent to get revenge on pettigrew, tried to commit murder in front of three witnesses who were also children—one of whom was his godson—ate rats and was also malnourished, which i'm certain did not help the situation any. this man is off his goddamn rocker, and you know what? you love to see it. good for him.
oh, but, snek, that's what he's like as an adult. what about when they were at school? before azkaban? my guy, the reaction he has to grimmauld place is not the reaction of someone without trauma. i don't believe that walburga and orion were the type to physically abuse their children, but whatever happened in that house helped to fuck him up enough that he skipped the joke of part of practical joke, and pranked snape by telling him how to meet a werewolf that he knew would be fully transformed and dangerous to humans. more than that, the werewolf was remus, whom he's friends with, and who—best case scenario—would be facing a trial if james hadn't stepped in. you can say that maybe he didn't think about or understand the gravitas of his actions, but at the end of it, that's not how properly sane people react to people they dislike, and that's not how they treat their friends. if anything, it reads like he was in the middle of a breakdown and absolutely losing his shit and he wasn't thinking at all.
my guy went through some serious shit, and was in no way completely mentally stable. we can see pretty clearly that he's got a serious dark side to him that probably would have gone unbridled had he not disagreed with his family, and yet, fanon took one look at him and went, "teehee, uwu bad boi go vroom."
fanon said padfoot is a pretty boy with nice hair who is tastefully traumatised from his horribly abusive household. sirius rides his motorcycle and plays jokes and flirts with anything that moves, but he can do no real wrong and always comes back to his soft, bookish, chocolate-loving boyfriend remus, who will laugh about his lycanthropy and quietly disapprove but secretly laugh at his friends' antics while hiding his smile in his cardigan.
respectfully, what in the absolute fuck.
i'd put that meme in here if i could, the one that's like, "well done, you've broken _______ down to its bare essentials," but no. i can't bc it doesn't even apply. this isn't a meme, it's theseus' fucking ship.
fanon broke it down, and replaced the pieces one by one until we got to this point, where we need to sit down and ask ourselves, "is this even the same character?"
the answer is no, by the way. it isn't. when people talk about woobifying characters—you know, taking away every flaw they have, romanticising everything they do and making them only capable of doing good, wonderful, lovely things?—this is what we mean.
and it'd be one thing if it was just the one character, but, no. fanon went all in and made them all squeaky clean and boring, especially peter, who draws the shortest of the straws.
remus got fucked, too. not just because fanon insists on sticking him into a relationship with sirius. which, we'll tackle wolfstar in a bit, but that's not even the worst of it. here, we have yet another example of blatant, rampant woobifying. again, is he a bad person? no. we know he's a good guy, we know he's generally kind and well-mannered, we know that he wants to fo the right thing but hey, fun fact. did you know that you can be nice and a coward? did you know that you can be benevolent and good and kindly and have the greatest of intentions and still be shady as fuck? no? ask dumbledore. the man played people like chess pieces when he needed to, and he was a twinkly grandpa. these are things that can coexist.
teenage remus is a coward who, understandably, does not stand up to his friends, likely for fear of being ostracised, and doesn't uphold his prefect duties as he should and takes part in their bullying of snape as a result. he lets them romp with him in werewolf form while they are in their animagus forms and then, he lets them continue to do so even after they have multiple close calls, which, again, had anything happened, would have resulted in a trial in the best case scenario.
grownup remus is still a coward, he tells no one that sirius can move about the school in his animagus form despite wholeheartedly believing that he's a mass murderer, he tries to run out on his wife and unborn kid. he isn't deliberately making attempts to harm anyone, but he's content to sit back and let things happen to him and around him so he doesn't rock the boat, although he is capable of action, which we see when he is more than willing to help sirius merk pettigrew in the shack. he can be careless, he runs out to the shack knowing he hasn't taken his wolfsbane and ends up transforming in front of the students he, as a teacher, is meant to be protecting. of course, this doesn't negate his good qualities, it just bears repeating that his flaws do exist, and they're pretty serious.
fanon moony is always pleasant and kind and soft-spoken and bookish, and he always has to have his chocolate. he knows when to tell off his friends, and he'll do it, even if he's secretly amused by everything they do and laughs about it with his best friend, lily evans, who coincidentally spends all her time with them so he and sirius can go on double dates with james and lily and no one has to remember peter exists.
why. theseus' ship 2.0. does the actual character still exist or is this something entirely different thing bearing the same name?
as for peter, who needs peter pettigrew, the actual, legitimate, fourth marauder when you have lily evans? canon pettigrew is opportunistic as fuck. he's latching himself to the biggest bad on the block and he's going all in. for teenage peter, that was james and sirius, and for adult peter, that's voldemort. canon peter is good enough at transfiguration to master the animagus transformation, just like his friends, and he's good enough at potions to brew the potion that gives voldemort a body. and honestly, you can't say he wasn't brave. he could've run off somewhere and died, or changed his identity or something after he faked his death and framed sirius, but, no. he goes and resurrects voldemort. that's fucked up, yeah, but it happened and honestly, i respect that it. he stuck to his guns.
fanon wormtail is lucky if he exists beyond being a spineless sycophant for james and sirius, or an evil conniving little rat who's looking to toss his entire friend group to the wolves at eleven.
of course, this isn't meant to negate his bad qualities, he still murdered people and framed sirius and sold out the potters to die, but his good characteristics do exist, and james, sirius and remus genuinely were his friends.
and now, we get to lily and james.
we have hardly any information on either of them. they're a pair of cardboard cutouts that we can paint and stick flyers to and colour outside the lines however we want. we can do whatever the fuck, as long lily is brave and smart and somewhat kind and james is brave and willing to die for his family. we were essentially handed a pair of ocs.
and yet.
what little bits of canon we have are thrown out of the window regardless.
james is privileged and rich, and he throws hexes for fun. he's willing to hex lily when she disagrees with him, and then, he goes behind her back to continue hexing snape after she believes that he's stopped doing so. and that's all we know about him until he dies for his family at twenty-one years old. once again, say it with me: this does not negate his good qualities. he definitely had them, he took sirius in when sirius ran away from home, he became an animagus to keep remus company as a wolf, and he saved snape in the shack, thereby saving remus and sirius by extension. him having flaws does not make him a bad person.
fanon prongs is a feminist. he fights for equal rights for women everywhere, and he constantly treats his girlfriend, lily, like an absolute queen. he's the hottest boy in school and everyone claps when he walks through the halls. mcgonagall and dumbledore are always patting him on the back and making jokes with him. he has a built-in dark detector that helps him sense when someone is a evil and needs to he punished.
give me a break. the dude's cool and all, but was the gary stu treatment necessary?
...oh, he needed to match fanon lily? right, right.
canon lily is a contradiction unto herself. she's supposedly a great friend, but since we see her at a point where they were already drifting apart, we see her putting little effort into keeping their friendship afloat. she victim blames based on rumours, she doesn't seem to care over much about what snape has to say about the people who have been tormenting him since day one. and she's justified, of course, she doesn't have to stick around. canon lily is a bit of hypocrite, she says that snape calls everyone of her birth mudblood, but then that begs the question why she still hangs around with him if that's the case. he calls her mudblood, she retaliates by calling him snivellus, and finishes up with a dig about his underwear, which, sure, it's kicking a man with a rusty spoon and pouring salt in the wound, but she's, again, justified. i get where she was coming from. and then, of course, she dies for her kid after marrying the guy who relentlessly bullied her quote-unquote best friend for their entire school careers. but, like i said, canon lily is, in many ways, a contradiction.
lily is basically a plot device. she pushes everyone's narrative but her own, and does little else.
of course, this trend would continue in fanon. fanon lily exists to be the perfect girl who gets really angry over the slightest injustice, and of course, she gets to be one half of one of the oldest enemies-to-lovers "it was just sexual tension" cliche pairings in the book. she's just,,, a mary sue. in so many fics, so many headcanons, she's just pettigrew's stand-in, a girl to form a gang with marlene, mary and dorcas—who happen to be more undeveloped ocs who also get the woobify mary sue treatment—to parallel the marauders. there is nothing compelling about her character when she's presented as a saint, and even less when she's supposedly the other moral compass for the marauders that doesn't actually work because she thinks that james is cute.
and this brings me to the next topic. jily. what, why, how. this was supposed to be a healthy, happy relationship that would have lasted in the long run? absolutely not. even for its time, i can't say that i see it lasting.
first of all, jkr presents james' crush on lily as just that: a crush. a mildly obsessive one, but a crush nonetheless, which she tries to liken to the pulling of pigtails. and then, we see that james' way of getting her to go out with him consists of blackmail, and when that doesn't work, he resorts to threatening her. this could have been set aside if he had actually, genuinely changed when they started spending more time together, but as we're told by sirius and remus, he didn't. he just got better at hiding what he was up to. and it has to be that he hid it, because if she knew, this further damages the character that she's set up to have and paints her out to be either unable to stand up to him or an enabler.
regardless, they get married. and while i have trouble believing that it was out of genuine love, there are scenarios that could make some semblance of sense. it's wartime, after all, and maybe lily is worried about her stability in the wizarding world, so why not marry into an established family whose son is already showing interest? or perhaps, she falls into the trap of every bad boy cliche ever, and she thinks to herself, well, i got him to be better then, maybe i can get him to do even better in the future. or maybe, she doesn't get into a relationship with him immediately and sees him on and off, until eventually, she accidentally gets pregnant and they scramble to have a shotgun wedding so as not to leave lily alone at nineteen with a baby. or maybe they marry each other because they're there and sure, neither of then is ready and they don't know what love even is but what else is there to do when there's a dark lord about? anyways, the point is, they get married.
and then what? if we count pottermore into canon, he goes on to further damage her relationship with petunia and vernon, to the point where she ends up crying. if we don't, she fades into the background enough that nobody has anything to say about her. she's harry's mum, she's james' wife, lily potter, she was kind and smart and brave and that's it. her agency is gone, anything else we have of her personality is gone.
jily just,,, wasn't built to last. and, yeah, this,,, this is a hill i'll die on.
same with wolfstar, honestly. there are so many reasons why it wouldn't work, but fanon has made it so fucking prevalent that it's literally everywhere no matter where you look.
first of all, i've said it before and i'll say it again. sirius is more likely to get with james that he is to ever end up in a relationship with remus. their chemistry is just,,, underdeveloped. net zero for a relationship.
secondly, sirius instigated the werewolf prank, and lupin would have paid the price for it. this could have been overlooked, but he doesn't seem the slightest bit guilty about any of it when it's brought up in poa. he could have been responsible for lupin losing the security of his place at hogwarts in the best case scenario, and in the worst case, his life. and he seems to look forward to full moons, even though they clearly aren't pleasant for remus, which,,, yeah, you're going to have fun, but like, maybe be concerned about the fact that your friend undergoes excruciating pain and it isn't a pleasant time for him? read the room, my g.
thirdly, they don't trust each other as much as fanon seems to think they do. they were both willing to believe each other the traitor before ever suspecting pettigrew. sirius thought remus gave away the potters, hell, he thought remus was a spy for voldemort, and remus was convinced that sirius was a mass murderer. neither of them needed to be convinced.
fourthly, maybe i'm reading too much into it, but like. sirius had money. remus had no money, since, yk, he was a werewolf and struggling for cash and still, sirius,,, did not leave him any money. i feel like if you had money to spare, you would give to your friend who is literally poor. but, again, maybe i'm reading too much into it and this isn't as valid a point as i think it is.
and ehh, the fifth reason is that it's,,, actually very much not the representation for the ltgbt community that fanon says it is but y'all aren't ready for that conversation.
anyways, just,,, even when you set the couple shit aside, the power dynamics between everyone here is fucked. like, james and sirius are clearly at the top of food chain calling the shots and egging each other on. then there's lily, who isn't even a marauder, but is always ever-so-slightly above remus but still not on their level, because, well. neither of them actually listen to her. remus is the novelty friend, the friend who's,,, alright, i guess, but you keep them around specifically because they're funny or they can dance or they have something that you can either show off to other people or keep as your little inside joke, your little secret, yk? and peter is just sort of there. like, yeah, he can do what we can but does that make him as good as we are? no. does he have a funny little something about him that we can exploit? nah. therefore he sits at the bottom. and like, yeah, james and sirius are on the same level, but james is yanking sirius' chain, not the other way around. anyways, like i said. power dynamic's fucked and it bothers me that we were given all of this, and fanon decided to take it all and throw it away so they could give us flamboyant!badboi!sirius black x softboi!motherhen!remus lupin going on double dates with feminist!trustfundbaby!james potter and saint!lily evans while ignoring peter pettiwho?
theseus' fucking ship, indeed.
anyways, this needed to be said. it might not make as much sense as i want it to, considering it's 4:12 in the morning as i'm posting this, after taking a break from writing to do some research and coming across way too much content about fanon marauders, but it's here and it still makes enough sense that you can read it and understand what i mean. and like, at the end of the day, you can go ahead and headcanon whatever you please, you can write fic and make art and do whatever you like, just,,, remember that they're exactly that. headcanons. stop presenting fanon as canon. please. i'm literally begging. we actually have evidence against it. just,,, acknowledge that they're headcanons and stop putting them forward as though they're able to fit into canon. please.
#harry potter#marauder fanon#canon vs fanon#lily evans#james potter#sirius black#remus lupin#peter pettigrew#the marauders#severus snape is mentioned a few times#but this isn't about him#i'm just#so sick of fanon#i need to like refilter my tags or smth bc istg i see more fanon marauder posts than i do anything else#anyways this is my take#and yeah it is 4:11 in the morning and i'm tired#i can't remember when i started this but yeah#point is i am so done#anti jily#anti wolfstar
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Wakana Spring Live ～magic moment～ 2021 Review
Note: I FINALLY got my package. Now that I watched the full live in HD, I thought I would share m thoughts and a little present below the cut ^_^ As always, I would like to encourage everyone to SUPPORT Wakana by BUYING her Blu-ray!!! Her sales numbers aren’t the greatest which is a huge shame since this is a solid release.
Overall thoughts: I got the Limited Edition of course since I couldn’t resist the pretty sleeve packaging, the bonus documentary (so insightful) and the photobook (scans coming up soon). It is quite pricey but totally worth the money, especially if you are among those fans who liked “Magic Moment” much more than Wakana’s debut album. The release comes with a gorgeous clearfile as tokuten so be sure to get it! Try going for the Regular Edition if you want to save money.
As for the live itself, it was a pleasure to watch and I can see myself rewatching it a lot (skipping a few songs though :P). Wakana’s voice coaching lessons are definitely starting to pay off. She has so much stamina these days. Can you believe that this was her SECOND live performance of the day? Her vocals were solid, even during her high-demand power ballads. At rarely any point did she sound overly-screechy to my ears, there were certain sections that didn’t sound 100% smooth but those parts definitely didn’t take away from my overall enjoyment. On a side note, this live was a feast for the eyes, Wakana looked absolutely beautiful in her white dress and I even liked her encore outfit even though it was a little “out there” XD During the more up-beat songs, her smile literally lit up the entire hall. Seeing her have so much fun on stage is healing. I feel like they may have gone a little overboard on the blurry filters from time to time but I guess that was on purpose.
1.揺れる春: 6/10. This is obviously the perfect cute intro for a Spring Lives so I understand why Wakana put it here but I would have much preferred “breathing” as a grand entrance. Still so sad that this is the only song from the “magic moment” album that didn’t make it onto the setlist of this live. I know, we already got an official audio recording but I would have loved some video footage to accompany it :P Anyways, back to Yureru Haru. I haven’t really warmed up to the song yet. It’s not bad and I honestly love the verses since they are super precious and feel kinda nostalgic but the chorus doesn’t stand out imo. Also, her singing style during parts of the chorus isn’t my favourite and not overly flattering.
2.where: 4/10. Oh no!! I was hoping Wakana would be singing the “ohhhohhhs”. She could have easily done it during the start and middle part of the song since it wasn’t overlapping with her other vocals. This seems so rushed? Is it just me? I haven’t listened to the studio version in a while but I know that I quite enjoyed that and it definitely didn’t make me feel as fidgety as this. Don’t know what it is exactly but it keeps me from getting into the song. I guess this is the biggest disappointment for me because I wanted to like it.
3.君だけのステージ: 4/10. I will admit it, this is not my favourite song. It’s just way too long :P But it is a very good and energetic performance, really no complaints when it comes to Wakana. But experiencing it live at the venue would have made it so much better for me. Oh well, nothing that can be done about it. The scat part at the end was a pleasant surprise. Would have loved to hear more of that.
4.442: 100/10. Honestly a masterpiece. One of Wakana’s best solo songs up-to-date and so very perfect to show off her vocals. Hearing it live like this with a band arrangement is a revelation. I love the wailing in the beginning and all the strength she conveys throughout the rest of the song.
5.ひらり ひらり: 3/10. Another song I haven’t warmed up to yet. No real thoughts. It’s one of those songs that’s just very forgettable, not bad per se but there is just nothing at all that attracts me to it. :-( As you can tell, I wasn’t entirely happy with some of the setlist choices. Wakana obviously wanted to include all the album songs but some of them are just not my cup of tea T_T
6.夕焼け: 6/10. This is one of the pieces that gets better every time I listen to it. And the latter half of the song is generally much nicer. I am always surprised by how much I actually like it when it’s over :P
7.アキノサクラ Acoustic ver.: 7/10. I am distracted by that harmonica sound-alike thingy Satoshi Takebe is playing XD Still, I have come to really like this song last winter so it is always appreciated, especially the acoustic version. Wakana is struggling a bit during the ending but nothing too bad.
8.myself: 100/10. Utter perfection. So much better than the studio version. And I am not saying this because I disliked the studio version, quite the contrary actually, I LOVED it but these two versions are honestly miles apart. Wakana’s live performance feels so much more raw and emotional. And her vocals in this are pretty much flawless, I can’t even begin to describe how this song makes me feel. A perfect ballad for Wakana.
9.メロディー (Cover): 8/10. My first reaction was boring. But by the third listen I was totally smitten and now it’s among my faves from this live. Be sure to give it a few tries, it really grows on you. I can tell why Takebe would choose this for Wakana.
10.元気を出して (Cover): 8/10. Ahhhhh, so freaking cute and old-school. Nothing beats a nostalgic, fluffy pop song from the 80s. I am here for this content. The “lalalas” at the end are LOVE.
11.オレンジ: 6/10. I like the song but I have to be in the mood for it. And here we have that fake harmonica thingy again. I enjoy the sound of a harmonica about as much as the sound of an accordion (which means not at all :P) but it fits the vibe of the song so I am okay with it. The bridge is usually my favourite part but Wakana’s delivery wasn’t as smooth as I would have liked. It was nice to have this right after “Genki wo Dashite” because both are encouraging pick-me-ups.
12.恋はいつも: 10/10. One day I wanna hear her sing the “baby, baby” part!! Please! Another absolutely highlight, you all know that I ADORE this song, I could listen to this FOREVER. It’s such a shame the corona guidelines do not allow the audience to sing along because the ending is so much more powerful if everyone is actually singing instead of just clapping.
13.Happy Hello Day: 8/10. Such a feel-good piece. Initially I didn’t like it much but seeing it performed with an audience during her Music Party and now here, has really made me fall in love with it. I have mentioned it before in my initial reaction to the YouTube leak but I wish she would have sung some lalalas at the end just as she did during her Music Party.
14.magic moment: 9/10. I KNEW I would love this song more once I got to hear it live. I still feel like the composition is a bit choppy and thus not as flowy as I would have liked from a power ballad like this but OMG, Wakana’s live performance is EVERYTHING. Blown away by her powerful vocals, she OWNS this song
15.時を越える夜に: 10/10. Two power ballads back to back. What more could I ask for? I know not many people liked Wakana’s solo debut but I personally always thought it was perfect for her. I consider this to be one of her best songs. Say what you will about Takebe but he certainly knows how to make Wakana shine, at least in my opinion. And the song has only gotten better with every live performance. Although I think I preferred the version from her Voice Tour. So very glad we got at least one track from Wakana’s first album. The original setlist actually included Kinmokusei and Kioku no Hito which are two of my faves (they were later exchanged with the two covers).
16.春を待つ (Kalafina Cover): 8/10. Despite this being one of Keiko’s favourite Kala-songs I never could bring myself to really appreciate it. It’s just an okay song for me. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy it quite a bit but I don’t go out of my way to listen to it. However, I very much loved Wakana’s cover though, she does a good job singing everyone’s lines and since the original doesn’t have any harmonies her solo performance doesn’t feel too lacking.
17.あとひとつ: 10/10. Always a treat. Can’t believe this STILL hasn’t gotten an official release :P But I understand Wakana’s reasoning, she wants to keep this song a unique live experience and it really is. I can’t help but tear up whenever she is singing this.
Documentary: I haven’t watched all of it yet but OMG, this is so cool. The first 20 minutes are dedicated to rehearsals. I love seeing Wakana like this, just being her cute dorky self. But poor baby, it was hard seeing her this exhausted after the big studio rehearsal (that’s what the gif is from - being her overdramatic self, she literally dropped dead to the floor). The second half of the documentary is Wakana talking about the production of the live and the different songs of the setlist.
*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:
Wakana Spring Live ～magic moment～ 2021
Google Drive (3,11 GB) 🎁
Documentary of Wakana Spring Live ～magic moment～ 2021
Google Drive (1 GB) 🎁
Wakana Spring Live ～magic moment～ 2021 MP3s
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Painkiller - 6
(It feels a little strange posting this right now, with the real Henry just going public with his new girlfriend, that looks exactly like my fictional (!!!) character Kelly. And I swear it's a coincidence that I chose the Daily Mail to reveal the pictures in my story...So if you feel uncomfortable with all this, don't proceed!)
It's time for the next chapter of "Painkiller". I left you with a bit of a cliffhanger, so here we go...
Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC (Ella)
Summary: Henry has to explain a lot to many different people, Kelly is taking advantage and Ella is a kinky girl
Warnings: RPF! Angst, mentioning of daddy kink, a little sex talk, nothing serious, but still 18+
Unbeta'ed, as usual...all mistakes are mine, English is not my mother tongue, so consider yourself warned...
Credits: Pics for the moodboard are from pinterest, I don't know Henry Cavill, not a bit, this is all fictional, fantasy and wishful thinking!
Parts 1-5 can be found here: nashi's masterlist
taglist: (please tell me if you want to be added or removed)
@hell1129-blog @lunedelorient @inlovewithhisblueeyes @willkatfanfromasia @summersong69 @omgkatinka @legendarywizarddetective @mis-lil-red @agniavateira @taebfada @xxxkatxo
~~~~~
6
Like every day Ella entered the store a good hour before opening time. It still felt strange to start the day without Katie who had decided to stay at home with little Lenny half a year before returning to the world of work. They had hired a help, Mr. Meller, who was the epitome of a middle aged bookworm and it worked perfectly. Ella got along with him very well, he reminded her of her father a lot, and the customers loved him. He wouldn't arrive until a few minutes before nine so Ella had almost an hour to have a coffee and prepare the shop and the cafe for the day. As usual she unpacked the stacks of shrink-wrapped newspapers and started to place them on the counter and the coffee tables in the cafe area. When she took a closer look at the headlines of the Daily Mail her heart skipped a beat before it started to clench. The pain that began to spread in her chest was dreadful and she felt sick all of the sudden. She sat down on one of the barstools at the cafe counter with wobbly legs before she looked at the pictures again.
Henry. He had a girlfriend. A girlfriend he showed up with in public. A girlfriend Ella didn't know about. A girlfriend that was apparently beautiful, young, sexy, curvy...not flat as a pancake. Ella swallowed hard and forced herself to read the little article underneath the pictures.
Henry Cavill was spotted with his new girlfriend yesterday by one of our readers, who sent us the pictures of the happy couple he was able to take in Kensington. "They seemed to be very in love." Our source reports. "Kissing and hugging all the time. Cavill couldn't keep his hands off of her and she kept gazing adoringly at him." It seems A-Lister Cavill has found a new love after a few years of being single. The actor, best known for his role as Superman, who is very discreet about his private life, has a long list of ex-girlfriends but -as he said in an interview lately- is still waiting for the one to fulfill his biggest dream: to start a family. Maybe the wait is over now and Superman has found his Supergirl. But who is the mysterious bombshell? Nobody seems to know…
A loud knock on the door interrupted Ella. She flinched when she saw Henry standing outside. Shit. She got up and walked over to the entrance with knees that felt like jelly, her heart racing at double speed. She took a deep breath before unlocking the door.
Get your act together.
"Henry, good morning. What are you doing here?" She was surprised that she managed to sound so normal.
"Hey. Good morning. Can I come in?" His voice was tense and he seemed to be nervous, tugging on his sleeve repeatedly with a sheepish smile.
"Sure." Ella stepped aside to let him enter the room. He glanced around and his eyes found the newspaper, the pics of him and Kelly staring right at his face.
"I'm sorry, Ella." He turned to her with a frown.
"Sorry? For what?"
He pointed at the Daily Mail. "For not telling you about Kelly."
"Kelly, huh? Well, there's no need to be sorry. This is none of my business, Henry." Ella took the newspaper and looked at the pictures with a nonchalant smile she had to force upon her numb face. "She's very pretty…"
"You're my friend. I should have told you. I didn't want you to read it in the papers…"
Ella just shrugged. She didn't know what to say without sounding jealous or disappointed or both. She felt incredibly empty inside.
"It's not even something serious...I mean we're right at the beginning of our...whatever. I didn't tell anyone about it…"
"A secret affair? How exciting." Ella winked at him when in fact she wanted to scream.
"Not really secret but it wasn't supposed to go public."
"Well, you should have taken her to Gianni's. I heard they are very discreet there." Now her voice was dripping with sarcasm.
"Ella…"
"Henry, listen...as I said. This is none of my business, okay? But I'm happy if you're happy." Ella clenched her teeth to prevent her eyes from watering. She was sure he could see her jaw work.
"You don't look happy." Henry's voice was almost a whisper now, a whisper that crept into her ear, through her veins and right into her hurting heart. She turned around abruptly and went straight to the coffee machine to clean it. She wasn't able to answer when she had to look at him.
Fumbling with the water container she finally was able to pull herself together.
"I guess I'm just a little disappointed that you haven't told me about her." She said as calmly as possible. "I thought you'd trust me."
"I do trust you, Ella." Henry leaned on the counter looking at her with a frown. "It's just...I didn't really know where this was going and I didn't want to bother you…"
"Bother me?" Ella turned around with something close to a smile. "You can bother me whenever you want with whatever is on your mind, Henry. You know that. That's what friends are for." She almost choked on her own words. Fake it till you make it.
Henry just nodded. "I know. I'm sorry."
"It's fine. You can tell me now. How did you meet her?"
"Well, that's kinda funny. She dialled the wrong number when she tried to contact a friend and so she had me on the phone and we had a pretty funny conversation and then we talked again the next day and texted and then we met and...yeah...well." Henry grinned and he felt like a fool.
"Oh...meet cute." Ella said and her heart clenched again. She couldn't help but think about the night she'd met Henry for the first time and the memory helped her to fake another smile.
Henry shrugged and let out a snort. "Yeah, guess so. A crazy coincidence at least."
"And now you're dating her."
What was he supposed to say? He wasn't dating Kelly. He wasn't in love with Kelly. He just had sex with her. But he didn't want to go down the rabbit hole and get confronted with more and more questions he didn't have an answer to. He simply couldn't talk about this with Ella without revealing his feelings for her. So he decided to choose the allegedly easy way out.
"Yes. I...we...want to take it slow though. We're just getting to know each other better."
"That sounds good, Henry. I hope you find what you're looking for. Can't wait to meet her." The lie tasted like acid, burning on her tongue. When Ella heard the door she was relieved and expected it to be Mr. Meller, but to her surprise it was Jax who stood in the doorway, holding the Daily Mail in his hand.
"Good morning."
"Morning, Jax." Ella and Henry said in unison, staring at him.
"I hope I'm not interrupting something." He joined Henry at the counter and threw the newspaper on it with a thud. "Congratulations on your new girlfriend." Jackson smiled at him.
Ella was sure Henry wasn't realizing it but she knew Jackson good enough to know he was pissed. The way his eyebrow twitched gave it away.
"She's not…" Henry sighed and shook his head. "Forget it...thanks I guess."
Ella couldn't stand this anymore. She just wanted this conversation to be over and get rid of Henry. She couldn't look at his ridiculously handsome face right now, didn't dare to look into his eyes and she absolutely wasn't able to be in the same room with him any longer without bursting into tears.
"We were just talking about how much I want to meet Kelly.
"Oh really? Kelly..." Jax raised his eyebrows in an odd mixture of surprise and annoyance.
"What about dinner at my place on saturday, Henry? You, Kelly and I? Jax, can join us…."
"Yes, sure." Henry was much too surprised to make up a spontaneous excuse.
"Great. Jax?"
"Count me in."
"Fantastic. Ok, that's settled then."
She clapped her hands and turned to Henry.
"I'm sorry but I really got a lot of work to do…"
"Yeah, sure. I'm gonna leave you to it." He gave her a nod. "Talk to you later?"
"Sure." Ella gulped, avoiding eye contact.
When Henry had left she let out a deep breath and turned to Jackson who hugged her tightly. "I'm so sorry, Elsie." Ella sobbed into his chest unable to say anything. Jax kissed her head tenderly before he took a step back. "Listen, sweetie. I know you're hurting right now and you just want to hide in your bed with tons of crisps and chocolate but you have a job to do. So keep a stiff upper lip and be strong for the next 9 hours, okay? And tonight you come to my place and we'll have as much junk food and sweets and cherry coke as you want and you can break down and cry and moan and mope. And I'm going to listen and dry your tears. And tell you that I was right, of course."
He winked and Ella let out a grunt that was half sob and half laughter. "Okay." She wiped her eyes to dry the tears and straightened her back. She even managed to smile.
"That's my girl." Jax gave her a thumbs up and when Mr. Meller entered the store Ella was sure she was going to make it through the day.
****
When Henry looked at his mobile on the way back to his car he snorted with frustration. There were countless missed calls and at least a dozen messages. From his manager, his assistant, journalists and his family of course.
Wtf, brother. Is that your way to win Ella's heart?
Charlie had texted and his friend Corey seemed to be confused too.
What's going on? U have a gf? Call me!
He was going to take care of them later. Now he had to call Kelly to give her some instructions.
He got in the car and dialled her number. She answered almost immediately.
"Morning, Babe." She sounded way too enthusiastic. "Have you seen it? We're all over the internet!"
"Yes, I have Kell. And that's nothing to exult over. This is a worst case scenario."
"Why. I don't care if everybody knows about us."
"But I do and there's not really an "us". You know that."
"Yes, I do. Oh come on, don't be so grumpy. It's just two pictures. Just tell the press we're only good friends and they're gonna lose interest."
Henry took a deep breath. "Don't be naive, that's not how it works. This wasn't supposed for the public eye but now it's on the internet and in the papers. The damage is done."
"Is it about Ella? You don't want her to know?"
"I didn't want her to learn about it from the Daily Mail….listen, Kelly, don't talk to anyone about this, okay? Not to your friends and most of all not to the press or some internet freaks or whatever. Can you do this for me?"
"Of course. You know I'm discreet."
"Sure. I do. I just need you to stick to it."
"I promise. My lips are sealed."
"Thanks, Kelly."
"You know what, baby? Maybe this is a sign."
"A sign for what?" Henry had a notion what she was up to.
"Well, maybe we can be more than fuck buddies. Maybe it's time we start dating."
"Kelly…" Henry sighed.
"Yes, yes, yes...Ella. I know. And I'm cool with it. But maybe I can help you to get over her. Just gimme a chance, Henry. Let's date, everyone thinks we are dating anyway."
She had a point, he knew this.
"Yeah. Maybe you're right. But let's talk about this later, okay?"
"Okay."
"Oh and I almost forgot...Ella wants to meet you. She invited us over for dinner at her place on Saturday."
"You already talked to her?"
"Sure. I've just visited her at work. To explain…"
"I see. Well, I'm looking forward to meeting her."
"Yeah...so is she. I gotta go, Kelly. Talk to you later."
"Okay. Bye, babe."
After ending the call Henry closed his eyes and let his head sink back on the head rest with a deep sigh. It was just about 9 o'clock and he was already exhausted and done with the day. It fit in the picture that an angry looking traffic warden knocked on his window to point out to him that his car was parked in a no stopping area. He opened the window with an apologetic grin and took the ticket she handed him over with a sour smile.
*****
Henry spent the rest of the day at home on the phone and online, answering all kinds of questions about him and Kelly to his friends and family, his management and assistants. Of course he wouldn't comment on all of this with an official statement. He never had before and he wouldn't start now. Even if not denying it meant that the whole world considered Kelly to be his girlfriend. Maybe he deserved it for being so careless, for going out with Kelly more often after the dinner at the chippy went so well the other day. For taking her with him when he walked Kal. For going to the bloody supermarket with her. He still didn't know how this was even possible. They had stopped by at this supermarket to buy some food for dinner after a short stroll with Kal. Henry had worn a cap and sunglasses. No one had recognized him, he was 100% sure of that. He knew the way people looked at him when they were aware of who he was. He had taken off the sunglasses inside the shop and hadn't taken them back on when they'd left and when Kelly had taken off his cap to run her hands through his hair and kiss him. It was a short kiss. Only a few seconds because Henry didn't want her to kiss him in public. But it had been long enough for some random passer-by to take a picture and sell it to the press. A few damn seconds that ruined everything. It could have been so easy. A casual fling with Kelly, his friendship with Ella…at least if he'd had the guts to tell Ella about it...but now everything felt so fucking complicated. Now he was somehow dating Kelly and jeopardizing his friendship with Ella.
He was just about to call her when a Zoom call from Corey came in. When his face appeared on Henry's laptop screen, he seemed to be worried.
"Hey." Henry waved at him like an idiot.
"Henry, what the fuck is going on? You and your girlfriend are breaking the internet."
Henry took a deep breath.
"First of all she's not my girlfriend."
"Yeah...I thought so...I mean because of Ella."
Henry knitted his brows and shrugged sighing.
"Yeah…"
"So she's not your girlfriend, but…?"
"But she's a woman I have casual sex with…"
Henry told Corey the whole story from A to Z. How he'd met Kelly, how he'd kept it a secret from Ella and all the other shit that had happened lately.
"And you're absolutely sure that Ella doesn't want more than friendship?" Corey asked sceptically after Henry had updated him.
"Unfortunately I am, man. There have been so many intimate situations...and she never made a move."
"Intimate?"
"Yeah...we have been physically and emotionally very close so often. We even had this...I don't know...sex talk...but nothing's ever happened."
"You talked about having sex?" Corey seemed to be surprised.
"Well not about the two of us having sex together. But she once told me about a special kink. Man, Corey...that was a hard conversation...literally…"
His friend chuckled. "A kinky girl, huh. What kind of kink? Spill it."
Henry sighed with a strange look on his face.
"Okay. Let me tell you the story of horny Henry and how he wanted to be Christian Gray for his sweet elf Ella"
Henry and Ella we're sitting on her couch after dinner. Henry had made a vegetarian chili and they were both completely stuffed. They were just debating about one of the big questions in life -cereals or milk first- when Ella's mobile beeped repeatedly, signaling new WhatsApp messages. She took a look at them and a wide grin spread on her pretty face.
"What?" Henry asked curiously.
"Jax just sent me a link."
"And what's so funny?"
"It's a video called "Henry Cavill reads thirst tweets"."
"Oh that...let's see." He grabbed her phone with a quick motion.
"Hey." Ella protested laughing.
Henry looked at the screen
Look what Hunter sent
😇😎
😏
https://youtu.be/fHS2cqjijIk Henry Cavill reads thirst tweets
"Who's Hunter?" Henry asked and Ella took her phone off his hand.
"Jax's brother."
"He knows about...well...that we're friends?" Henry looked at her with a frown.
"Obviously. Don't worry, he's not even...he's trustworthy." Ella gave him a wink. "So let's take a look at Mr. Cavill reading his fan's dirty fantasies."
"It's really not that spectacular…" Henry rolled his eyes, feeling a little awkward.
Ella shushed him, laughing, before she opened the link and the video started to play.
"Do you get called "daddy" a lot?" A voice asked while an extremely good looking Henry, dressed in a gray suit, his white shirt a little unbuttoned, showing off his chest hair, fished a piece of paper from a plastic container. A snort, a smirk. "On the internet. Sure."
Ella gave him a glance and a lewt smile. They watched the rest of the short clip and Ella laughed a lot, admiring Henry's funny, quick-witted answers.
"This is hilarious." she shook her head, still grinning. "Daddy."
"Oh, come on. Spare me…" Henry gave her an awkward smile. "I really don't get this daddy stuff. I mean...daddy in a sexual context...that's gross, isn't it?"
He locked eyes with Ella searching for approval. "Not really. I used to think the same way, but I learned that it's not about, I don't know… incestuous fantasies or something. I'm not an expert, but you don't imagine being with your father or your daughter. It's a roleplay and it's more about a difference in power between the sex partners. The daddy dom is in charge, dominating the baby girl and she's agreed to obey. The daddy dom is not an abuser. He takes care, is a protector and teacher, and when the little one acts like a brat he's going to discipline her...yeah...something like this." Ella cleared her throat and bit her lip, a little embarrassed now. Of course her cheeks were dark red.
Henry tilted his head with a mischievous grin.
"For not being an expert you know a lot about it."
Ella shrugged, pretending nonchalance.
"Is that your kind of kink?"
"I...well...yes, sometimes. You know, I had some kind of affair after Craig and I broke up and my lover...he showed me a new side of love. Of sex."
"New?"
"Yeah, the rough side, beyond Vanilla. Stuff I hadn't done with Craig. He showed me that it's great to be in control but that it can be even better and very relaxing to let go of control from time to time. To stop thinking and just do what you're told. To let someone take care of you, reward you, praise you and sometimes...well...punish you."
Henry had no idea why, but hearing her talk about this turned him on a lot. His dick twitched at the thought of Ella acting submissive with a dominating partner.
"Are we talking about S/M?" He realized that his voice sounded hoarse and he looked her in the eyes longer and deeper than usual.
"No. Not really. It was more a little 50-shades-of-gray-ish. Nothing extreme, all very playful, but different to what I knew. I learned a lot about me and my sexuality with him. He opened my eyes in more ways than one." Ella held his gaze and Henry felt like his skin was on fire all of the sudden. He felt jealous of the guy...of her Christian Gray...of the things he assumed they'd done together.
"And what happened? Why did the affair come to an end?"
"He had to leave London. Moved to Berlin for his job."
"I'm sorry." Henry moved a little closer to Ella shifting his position, turning his upper body to her. She did the same before answering.
"It's no big deal. As I said, it was just an affair."
"Shortly after the break up."
"Yes."
"So you were ready for a fling back then but not ready to date me?"
This caught her off guard, Henry could tell by the way she flinched slightly.
"I did date you…."
"Yeah. Once. And all I got was a rejection and a peck on the cheek." He smirked, played it cool, but his heart was racing like crazy. They had never talked about this before.
"You mean I owe you a goodnight kiss?"
"Yeah...isn't that what good girls do? Kissing daddy goodnight." Henry felt his heart pounding in his throat.
Ella raised her eyebrows. "If daddy tells them to. Of course."
Their eyes were still locked, breaths going fast, hearts racing and they started to lean in slowly.
And at this point Henry's anecdote ended.
"Hey, wait...what happened next?" Corey wanted to know with a curious look on his face.
"Then you cock-blocked me." Henry laughed.
"What? How's that?"
"I'm just kidding. My mobile rang and the moment was over. You were the caller."
"Shit. Sorry, man."
"Nevermind. I doubt that something would have happened. We had quite a few moments like this and she never kissed me." He shrugged. "It's pointless thinking about it anyway. We're friends. I'm with Kelly now. Full stop."
"You could tell Ella you love her. Maybe she just doesn't dare to make a move after she friendzoned you."
"No, I can't. She doesn't want me. Not the way I want her." And Henry's tone left no doubt that he was done with the topic.
~~~~~
tbc
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the art of pretend | jhs + ksj
PAIRING; hoseok x seokjin (2seok)
GENRE/AU; fluff, humor
RATING: 18+
WORD COUNT; 4.7k
WARNINGS; swearing, innuendos, a Smidge of angst, overall stupidity, secondhand embarrassment probably
SUMMARY; An AU in which Hoseok is embarrassingly bad at first dates and Seokjin takes it upon himself to fix it.
— Written for the Be My Bangtanvine collab hosted by @kimtaehyunq 💗 —
MASTERLIST
— banner by @monotape THANK YOU I LOVE YOU 🥺💗
— special thanks to @j-sope for pretty much being the sole reason that this was able to be written. i love u so much u are my everything my favorite person ever ILYLYYLIYLILYYILLYIYILYILYILYLILYILYIYIY
Jung Hoseok is horrible at first dates.
Seokjin likes to joke that the unfortunate souls his friend corrals into going on dates with him are his victims, but that joke usually results in a pouting Hoseok, so he keeps it to himself when he hears the all-too-familiar sound of his friend entering their shared apartment with a loud sigh.
“How’d it go tonight?” Seokjin calls out after a moment of silence. The only answer he gets is an alarmingly loud groan from the entryway, the sound followed by a pair of heavy footsteps shuffling their way toward the kitchen.
Hoseok appears around the corner only a few moments later, a pained expression tugging at his features as he collapses into the chair across the table from Seokjin with a huff. “Bad.”
“I don’t understand how you managed to fuck this one up,” Seokjin sighs in exasperation. “Literally everyone gets along with Namjoon. He’s, like, the nicest person on the planet. What did you even do?”
“It wasn’t my fault!” Hoseok defends, pointing an accusing finger at Seokjin. “I’m offended that your first instinct is to blame me. Did you ever stop to think that maybe I was the one who rejected him?”
Seokjin levels him with a cool stare. Hoseok drops his gaze to the table before mumbling, “I accidentally set my sleeve on fire.”
“Jesus,” Seokjin groans, “Hobi, how the hell do you manage these things? What the fuck?”
“I’m sorry, okay!” Hoseok cries out, “It’s not my fault that they put a candle right next to the basket of breadsticks! What kind of restaurant uses real candles anyway? This is the 21st century! Fake candles exist for a reason, you know!”
Seokjin sighs. “This is the last time I ever set you up on a date.”
“Aw, come on,” Hoseok pouts, “That’s not fair. I promise I won’t fuck up the next one; I think I’ve got the hang of dating now. Really!”
“Hobi, I literally have nobody else to offer. You’ve run through my entire collection of single acquaintances in the span of a few months.”
Hoseok blinks. “What? No way. You have to have at least one more single friend. You know, like, everyone.”
Seokjin raises an eyebrow. “Hoseok, you have a problem. It’s time to accept it.” He pauses. “But I think I have an idea on how to fix it.”
“No, no, I know what you’re thinking,” Hoseok interrupts. “I wear an earpiece. You sit at a table nearby, you speak into a mic, you tell me what to say on the date. It’s a great idea, Jin, but let me tell you something—it never works. Taehyung and I tried that a year or two ago and it didn’t end well.” He pauses. “At least, I don’t think it did. I’m not sure. I think my brain blocked out that memory for my own mental stability.”
“That’s…” Seokjin trails off before shaking his head. “Nevermind. My plan was for us to go on a few practice dates together so I could train you to be less nervous on your real dates.”
“Oh.” Hoseok’s face lights up. “That’s a way better idea! Good thinking, dude.”
“Please never call me dude again.”
“Would you prefer if I called you daddy?”
Seokjin pinches the bridge of his nose. “Get out.”
“You can’t kick me out of our apartment,” Hoseok pouts, “I live here too, you know.”
“I reserve the right to kick you out when you’re acting like an idiot. It’s stated in section thirty-five of our friendship contract.”
Hoseok curses under his breath. “I knew I never should’ve signed that thing.”
“Well, you did. And you’re gonna have to live with the consequences if you do stupid things like calling me daddy when all I’m trying to do is help you out.”
“Alright, alright,” Hoseok frowns, “I’m sorry.” He pauses. “But you have to admit, it does kind of suit you—”
Seokjin groans. “Fucking hell.”
Their first date happens about a week later. Hoseok shows up at Seokjin’s doorstep with a bouquet of flowers, which isn’t saying much, because they already live together—but he thinks it’s the thought that counts.
“Will you hold my hand over the console?” Hoseok asks with twinkling eyes as he grins at Seokjin from the passenger seat.
“No,” Seokjin deadpans. “I don’t hold hands on the first date.”
“But this is a fake first date,” Hoseok pushes, giving his friend the biggest puppy-dog eyes he can muster. “Surely you can break a few rules here and there.”
“Hoseok, the very fact that this date is fake is only more reason for me to reject your hand-holding offer. I’m not in the business of sharing cooties with friends.”
Hoseok slides down in his seat with an irritated grumble. If Seokjin doesn’t want to hold his hand, that’s totally fine. He’s okay with that. He doesn’t mind at all.
Noticing the dark cloud that seems to have materialized over his friend’s head, Seokjin relents with an exasperated sigh, flopping his hand palm-up over the console in an offer to Hoseok. “Fine. But if I crash this car, I’m blaming it on you.”
Hoseok grins from ear to ear as he excitedly threads his fingers with Seokjin’s. He tries not to think too hard about how perfectly they fit together.
The evening has been… a struggle, to say the least. Hoseok managed to knock his chair over when they were being seated, which would have been fine, except when he tried to pick it up, he ended up tripping over the legs and falling face-first into the aisle beside their table.
Seokjin had been hopeful that the chair debacle would be the most eventful happening of the evening, but that hope had been squashed when Hoseok knocked over a vase of flowers with his elbow during an attempt to pull out a stack of notecards from his pocket. The water had gone everywhere—including his notecards—and the waitress had given Seokjin a pitiful look as she swept up the broken glass that decorated the floor.
(The stack of notecards was mostly blank, Seokjin eventually discovered. The ones that did have writing on them had subjects like ‘windmills’, ‘circuit boards’, and ‘wyoming’ scrawled in messy loops across the front. When Seokjin gave Hoseok a questioning look, he’d explained that they were possible topics of conversation, in case he ran out of things to say.)
And now, half an hour later, Hoseok is finishing up a very long and very boring speech about elephants, looking at Seokjin expectantly as the latter sits in stunned silence.
“Wow. That was… a very thorough explanation of the stages of elephant pregnancy.”
“Thank you,” Hoseok beams. “I did lots of research. Now, onto the history of the zipper—”
“Okay, you know what?” Seokjin interrupts his friend with a tight smile, “Just… ask me a question about myself. Try to get to know me.”
“Okay,” Hoseok nods, tossing the stack of notebook cards over his shoulder haphazardly. “Okay, I can do that. Easy.” He blinks. “Uh…. I…” He stares blankly for a few seconds before dropping his head into his hands, voice muffled as he mumbles dejectedly, “God, I can’t think of anything to ask you. My mind is blank. Where are my notecards?”
“Just—Just ask me the first thing that comes to mind,” Seokjin encourages with only a hint of exasperation, grabbing Hoseok’s attention before he can reach for the soggy lump of paper sitting on the corner of the table.
Hoseok lifts his head, staring blankly for a moment before his face lights up and he blurts out, “How big is it?”
Seokjin sighs. “Really?”
“Oh my god,” Hoseok wails, “This is hopeless.”
“It’s not hopeless,” Seokjin tries to comfort with a furrowed brow. “You just… need to learn how to calm down. That’s all.”
“It’s not like I’m trying to be a nervous wreck,” Hoseok laments, sullenly snacking on a breadstick. “I just… I get so nervous, you know? My mind starts to run through all the things that could possibly go wrong and I get so desperate trying not to do or say the wrong thing that I forget what the right thing is.”
Seokjin sighs, giving his friend a sympathetic look. “Try not to get too down about it, alright? We still have all the time in the world to go on these practice dates to help you get to the bottom of whatever this problem is. It’ll all work out okay, I promise.”
Hoseok perks up a bit at that. “Thank you, Jin,” he thanks, glancing between the elder and the breadstick in his hands for a few moments before tearing it in half and offering a piece to him with a big, goofy smile.
Seokjin takes it with twinkling eyes. It’s kind of pathetic, really, that as much as he teases Hoseok, there’s absolutely nothing he wouldn’t do to keep that heart-shaped smile on his face.
Seokjin takes a different approach on his second fake date with Hoseok.
After the disastrous first date, the elder had been left wracking his brain for reasons why Hoseok is the way he is. It’s a bit of an ambiguous question, and many people would simply shrug it off as Hoseok being more nervous in social situations than most—but Seokjin knew that there was something else at play.
Hoseok is a well-liked guy. So well-liked, in fact, that when Seokjin is out perusing the town with his best-friend-slash-roommate, he finds that they’re stopped at least twice a day by complete strangers on the street because of him. Granted, the strangers aren’t quite strangers to Hoseok—they’re usually acquaintances he met at the gym, the coffee shop or even the zoo—but the point is that Seokjin doesn’t think there’s a single living thing on this planet that Hoseok isn’t friends with.
Even their houseplants prefer the younger of the two. (Hoseok vehemently denies this, but Seokjin knows it’s true. He thinks it’s because they’re attracted to the sunshine that Hoseok seems to emit every time he flashes his heart-shaped smile their way.)
The point is that Hoseok is most definitely not a nervous person, at least when it comes to platonic human interaction. The younger man is bright and loud and happy all at once, his cheery aura serving as a welcoming beacon to everyone that crosses his path. He has the largest circle of friends Seokjin has ever witnessed, and he’s even been involved in a few long-term relationships over the years.
So why can’t Hoseok seem to just act normal on first dates?
After another conversation with the man himself and a bit of reflecting on their disastrous first date, Seokjin deduced that he still had absolutely no idea what was going on inside Hoseok’s brain. However, he did manage to come up with a new plan for their second date—one that Hoseok was most definitely going to hate.
Exposure therapy.
Of course, Seokjin wasn’t going to tell Hoseok about his plan before he enacted it. That would defeat the point of it all. So, when Hoseok shows up two minutes late to their fake date with a worried expression and a mouthful of apologies, Seokjin levels him with a disinterested stare.
“You’re late.”
Hoseok’s hair is sticking every which way, a few of the sandy-colored strands plastered to his forehead. His fancy dress shirt is one button off from being correctly centered, and his pants are a bit rumpled up from something, the crinkles standing out starkly against the dark material.
“I’m so sorry,” Hoseok apologizes profusely, eyes shining with genuine guilt as he takes a nervous seat across from Seokjin. “I, uh, had to… take my... niece... to.... badminton practice?"
Seokjin hums. “How lovely. Tell me, Hoseok—what’s your niece’s name?”
"Um......... Fuckson? No, no, that's not right... Chlorissa? Torple? America?" Hoseok gulps. Shakes his head. "That—that was a lie. I don't have a niece. Is it hot in here, or is that just me?" He loosens his already uneven tie, glancing nervously towards the bathrooms behind him. "I've gotta use the... the whiz palace. You know. That place. Where you go do your business. Yeah."
Before Seokjin can say another word, Hoseok is tripping out of his chair and making a mad dash for the restrooms, stumbling all the way there. Seokjin winces when his friend takes an accidental turn into the women's restroom rather than the men's, waiting for the accompanying shriek that usually comes alongside Hoseok's all-too-common accidents.
But instead of a terrified scream, Seokjin is met with the face of a nervous Hoseok peeking out of the doorway, his eyes wide and frantic as he makes eye contact with his fake date across the restaurant.
"Bathroom!" Hoseok shouts, ignoring the stares of the other patrons in the room. "It's called a bathroom! Hah!"
Seokjin throws the staff an apologetic smile before dropping his head onto the table dramatically. They have long, long ways to go.
“Hoseok is…. in worse shape than I thought,” Seokjin admits quietly, glancing over his shoulder when he hears the sound of familiar laughter echoing from the table a few feet behind him. Hoseok is sitting by himself, laughing at… nothing. Seokjin turns back to the bartender, a close friend named Jimin, with a look of disbelief. “Is he practice laughing?”
“Maybe you should take a different approach?” Jimin muses, eyes sparkling as he glances at Hoseok over Jin’s shoulder. “Try showing him what a bad date would feel like so he doesn’t psych himself out anymore?”
“I already did that,” Seokjin groans, “I don’t know what else to try. Seriously. He just… ran off to the bathroom. After lying about having a niece.”
Jimin hums. “Maybe try laying it on a bit thicker. You’re still being too nice; you’ve gotta channel your inner asshole. Think about all the shitty dates you’ve been on in your past.”
“Isn’t that a bit mean, though?” Seokjin asks. “I’ve been on some pretty bad dates; I don’t want to traumatize him.”
“Hoseok isn’t made of glass, Jin,” Jimin smiles. “He’ll be fine, I promise. Besides, he knows how much you care about him. He’s not gonna take anything you say or do to heart.”
Seokjin sighs in resignation. “You’re right.” He glances over at his friend once more. “I guess I should get back to him before he breaks anything else. Or has another conversation with an imaginary date.”
“Go get ‘em, tiger,” Jimin grins cheekily, “Have fun bullying your fake date!’
Seokjin flips him off before making his way back to the table, already in character when Hoseok greets him with a warm smile and bright eyes. He finds it hard not to immediately melt at the sight—not for any reason in particular; Hoseok just has that effect on people—and when he takes his seat across from the younger man, Seokjin has to push down the urge to smile back.
“What did Jiminie have to say?” Hoseok asks cheerily, fingertips drumming nervously against the tablecloth. Seokjin ignores the question and reaches over to take a french fry off of Hoseok���s plate. The younger man blinks at him in confusion, the ever-present smile on his face slipping slightly. “Jin? Is everything al—”
“So,” Seokjin interrupts loudly and leans over to snatch another fry from Hoseok’s plate, still chewing on the first one he stole as he speaks. “How do you feel about sex on the first date?”
“Uhh…” Hoseok trails off uncomfortably, shifting a bit in his seat. “I’m sorry, w-what?”
Seokjin pauses in his chewing and stares at Hoseok silently for a few seconds before swallowing dramatically, eyebrows raised in slight annoyance. “I said,” he drawls, “How do you feel about sex on the first date? I need to know if tonight is gonna be worth my time.”
“That… that’s....” Hoseok murmurs in disbelief, “Um. Wow. Okay then.”
A few beats of silence pass, the two men staring at each other uncomfortably until Seokjin breaks the silence. “Another important question. How do you feel about full moons? I love them. Personally, I feel really connected to wolves. I’m pretty sure I was a wolf in my past life, actually.”
“Wolves are… cool, I guess?” Hoseok agrees, the end of his sentence twisting to sound more like a question than a response. “They look fluffy.”
“Fluffy?” Seokjin splutters, “You’re kidding me. They’re ruthless killing machines, Hongjoong. The epitome of what an alpha male should be. I was definitely an alpha wolf in my past life.”
“Hongjoong?” Hoseok asks, pointedly ignoring whatever the hell else Seokjin just said.
“Oh. My bad. I have a date with my boyfriend later tonight—his name is Hongjoong—and I got your names kinda mixed up.” He pauses. “Wait, what’s your name again?”
“Hoseok,” he grits out.
“Ohhh,” Seokjin grins lazily, “I remember now! You’re the dude with the flat ass. Your profile said you were a dancer, though, so I thought there was a good chance you’re good in bed. We all have to make sacrifices, I guess. You get it, right?”
Hoseok’s jaw drops to the floor. It’s going to be a long, long night.
“I can’t believe you’d say that, Seokjin,” Hoseok murmurs, his eyes widened in disbelief. “That dog was my best friend, it crushed me when we had to let him go—”
“Brring brring,” Seokjin interrupts, holding up his phone before pretending to talk to someone on the other end of the line. “Oh, hey Hongjoong. Yeah. No, I’m not busy. Just on a date with the flat ass guy I told you about.” He’s silent for a few moments, never once breaking eye contact with Hoseok as he speaks into the receiver. “Yeah. Hold on, I’ll ask him.” He covers the receiver with the palm of his hand. “Hey, wanna watch a porno with me and my boyfriend tonight?”
Hoseok sits there in shocked silence for a few moments before a line of anger creases his brow, eyes narrowed in irritation as he sends a disgusted scowl Seokjin’s way. “No, Seokjin, because you’re disgusting. I am disgusted.”
Seokjin stares blankly for a few seconds. “So, it’s definitely a no?”
“I don’t understand why you’re being so horrible!” Hoseok raises his voice, gesturing wildly as he groans in frustration. “We’re just two people trying to go on a date. It’s supposed to be fun!”
“You’re right,” Seokjin grins, placing his phone down on the table. “It is just a date. Well done, my friend.”
Hoseok tilts his head, brow furrowing in confusion. “Huh?”
“I’m sorry I was so rude to you,” he explains, “But now you see that even if everything goes wrong, you’ll survive. Dates are meant to be fun, Hoseok—there’s no need to put so much pressure on yourself.”
“Oh.” Hoseok blinks. “Ohhh,” a grin begins to stretch across his face as he leans back in his chair, “I see what you did there, you sneaky, sneaky smurf.”
Seokjin shakes his head, watching with a small smile as Hoseok immediately delves into his opinion on the newest Scooby-Doo live action movie. Some things never change, he thinks to himself, unable to keep the wave of fondness that washes over him at bay.
It’s on the third date that Seokjin realizes he loves Hoseok.
Now, in a normal situation, Seokjin would agree that the third date is a bit soon to be making such powerful declarations. But this isn’t a normal situation, and Seokjin is pretty sure that he’s actually been in love with his best friend for a long, long time.
He isn’t sure why it took him so long to figure it out, nor does he know why the sight of Hoseok laughing at a joke he made while sipping on a strawberry milkshake is The Moment™ that the realization dawned upon him—but that doesn’t matter; not really. Because Hoseok is smiling at him with crinkles by his eyes and dimples on full display and he thinks his heart is about to beat clear out of his chest.
Seokjin isn’t an absolute disaster on first dates like his friend tends to be, but he hasn’t had a long term relationship since moving in with Hoseok two years ago, either. He never really took the time to think about why that is—he always assumed he just hadn’t found “the one” yet—but looking at it in hindsight, it’s because nobody compared to Hoseok. Nobody compares to him now, sitting across the booth from Seokjin with his twinkling eyes and excited hand gestures.
Hoseok is doing far better than he did on their past two dates. Seokjin managed to convince him to leave the notecards with topics of conversation on them at their apartment, and while Hoseok was nervous that he’d run out of things to discuss without them by his side, he soon realized he had nothing to worry about.
He had nothing to worry about, because Seokjin is completely and utterly enamored by every little thing that Hoseok says, clinging to the words that fall from his lips no matter how silly they might be. Because Hoseok’s words have a warmth to them; they’re instilled with pure joy, spoken with a bright smile and sprinkled with love.
“Jin?” Hoseok’s voice breaks Seokjin out of his thoughts. He’s waving his hand haphazardly in front of his face, peppering in a snap of his fingers every so often for added effect. “Anyone home?”
“Cut it out.” Seokjin bats away Hoseok’s hands, fighting the smile creeping onto his face.
Hoseok pouts. “You weren’t paying attention to me.”
If only you knew, Seokjin thinks to himself. Instead, he says: “You haven’t done anything yet to grab my attention. By now, you’ve usually broken at least one inanimate object and offended at least two workers.”
“That means I’ve improved!” Hoseok points out with a grin, chomping down excitedly on a curly fry dipped in ranch. “I think I’m just about ready for a real date, Jin.”
Seokjin freezes. “You are,” he agrees slowly, trying to fight the sinking feeling in his chest.
“You know, there’s this cute boy who gave me his number the other day at the ice cream shop,” Hoseok babbles mindlessly as he scrolls through his contacts, “I could shoot him a text. He seemed nice enough, and it’d be a great way to test my improvement out in the real world, don’t you think?”
“Yeah,” Seokjin murmurs as he fidgets with the strings on his hoodie. “Yes. That sounds great, Hobi.”
The fake date carries on like normal. Seokjin rolls his eyes at Hoseok’s antics one too many times, and the younger man laughs a little too enthusiastically at his cheesy puns and dad jokes. It’s nothing out of the ordinary for their fake dates—except this time, Seokjin finds himself wishing it was real.
It’s been a long time since Seokjin has allowed himself to sulk, but he’s pretty sure that being hit with the realization that he’s in love with his best-friend-slash-roommate and knowing that his feelings aren’t returned are good enough reasons to dig into his emergency stash of ice cream.
Hoseok is out on a date tonight. A date that isn’t with Seokjin. He left about fifteen minutes ago, Sekojin notes as he glances at his watch in dismay. He’s probably out cracking jokes and knocking over chairs and breaking water glasses and embarrassing himself—all with a stranger.
Not Seokjin.
Never Seokjin; at least, never again.
His thoughts are interrupted by the sound of knuckles rapping clumsily at his front door. He sets his ice cream down on the coffee table with a huff, because he has a sinking feeling that his perfectly valid plans for a lonely night filled with self-pity are about to be interrupted. He just wants to eat his ice cream in peace, dammit—not to mention he hasn’t even had time to be sad about Hoseok’s date yet.
But when Seokjin opens the door to see Hoseok standing there with a smile on his face and a bouquet of flowers, his heart can’t help but tremble.
“Hobi. This is literally our apartment, you don’t have to knock.”
Hoseok winks. “I know.”
“Did you forget your keys or something?” Seokjin asks, the hint of exhaustion tinging the edge of his words suddenly fading away to make room for confusion when the smattering of pink, yellow and white flowers in Hoseok’s arms suddenly registers in his mind. “Wait, why do you have flowers? I thought you were meeting that boy from the ice cream shop? Oh my god, did you already run him off, that has to be a new record for you—”
“I’m the one who called off the date,” Hoseok interrupts, his grin never fading as Seokjin continues to look at him with growing uncertainty.
“What? I thought you liked him?”
Hoseok shrugs. “I went to buy him flowers before we met up, but I realized that I didn’t really want to be buying flowers for him after all.”
“I… don’t think I’m quite following what you’re saying, Hobi,” Seokjin drawls, eyes wide and brows raised. “You called off the date because you didn’t feel like buying flowers?”
“I called off the date because I realized that I wanted to be buying flowers for you, not the cute ice cream guy,” Hoseok says cheerily, like it’s the most casual thing in the world. “I wanted to be buying a bouquet of flowers for you. I wanted to be meeting you at that restaurant, for a real, actual date.”
Seokjin blinks. Hoseok carries on.
“You see, I was looking at all the different colored roses and I thought ‘Hey, these colors remind me of Seokjin’, and then it hit me that I’m kind of in love with you. Like, really in love with you. Head over heels. Absolutely bonkers. Unbelievably enamored, if you will. Hey, has anyone ever told you that you have really kissable lips? They’re, like, super soft and shiny and pretty. I really wanna kiss them. Can I? Is that too forward of me?”
Hoseok finally halts his rambling of words with an excited grin, completely oblivious to the way Seokjin stands flabbergasted just a few feet in front of him. His chest feels warm and fuzzy and he doesn’t think twice before reaching out and pulling Hoseok into a kiss. It’s messy and uncoordinated and their teeth accidentally clash when Hoseok makes a loud noise of surprise, but it’s perfect, their bodies fitting together like two missing puzzle pieces as they sink into each other’s embrace.
And when Seokjin finally pulls away after an indiscernible amount of time, he finds that the only words he can manage to say are, “That was the least romantic confession I’ve ever heard.”
“Sorry,” Hoseok grins, not actually sorry at all. “Does this mean that you like me back, though?”
Seokjin throws him an incredulous look. “I literally just made out with you in our front doorway. Where all the neighbors can see us.”
“Bros kiss all the time, my dude. I just wanted to make sure that was an ‘i’m-in-love-with-you’ kiss, not an ‘i-know-we’re-bros-and-all-but-i-kinda-wanna-kiss-you-because-you’re-hot’ kiss.”
“Why would it ever be the second option?” Seokjin asks, dumbfounded. “Wait—which of your ‘bros’ have you been kissing? Why didn’t I ever know about this?”
“Jungkook. Only when we’re drunk, though.”
“Oh my god,” Seokjin groans, “Is that where the two of you would run off to every time we went to a house party together?”
Hoseok snickers. “Maybe.”
“I did not need to know that. Please, take it back. Wipe my memory away with one of those little Apple TV remotes from Men In Black.”
“Don’t worry, Jin,” Hoseok laughs, leaning forward to press a light kiss to his lips. “You’re the only person I wanna sneak off with now. Besides, Jungkook has his eyes on Taehyung these days.”
“Whatever,” Seokjin grumbles in a voice that the both of them know isn’t truly bothered. “And to be clear, that kiss earlier was actually a ‘you’re-an-idiot-but-for-some-reason-i-love-you-too kiss. Now get back over here and let me kiss you again.”
//
Seokjin and Hoseok’s dates still manage to end in disaster more often than not. But Hoseok always reacts with an embarrassed giggle and a smile on his face, and Seokjin wouldn’t want to have it any other way.
A/N; yes i’m alive. sorry 😳
MASTERLIST
© ughseoks 2020, all rights reserved. do NOT modify, translate, or repost my works. modification, translations, and/or redistribution of my works on any platform is strictly prohibited.
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Takanobu Aone + “Shattered (turn the car around)
This is the 14th Oneshot for the Valentines Day Event, thank you so much to @cowninja1 for requesting and participating in the event!!
Character: Aone x reader
Today had been you and Aone’s last day of high school, also known as your graduation. For the past 3 years, you and Aone had been seatmates. Him not having anyone else to sit next to, and you being completely unafraid to sit next to him. To most the two of you seemed like oil and water, where he was quiet and shy you were more bubbly and outgoing, where he was intimidating and scary, you were easy going and approachable. That never stopped the two of you from being friends, or becoming close.
And it certainly didn’t stop the romantic feelings that began to grow, and grow. You never concerned yourself with what people said, let them talk! Nothing they say has any effect on your decisions...But they did have an effect on Aone’s. He was ever aware of the stares and whispers that seemed to follow you two, nearly always catching the snide remarks or rumors that were quick to spread.
He knew they’d follow him forever, I mean how could they not? No one outside of you and the volleyball club knew just how different he was than what he seemed. The man has a pet turtle for goodness sake! But none of that mattered, because people would always talk. He accepted it a long time ago, but he couldn’t accept putting you through that, you didn’t deserve that...That’s why he rejected your confession.
He liked you a lot, actually, he loved you a lot. But he couldn’t put the person he loved the most through that..it..wouldn’t be fair...at least that’s what he told himself. It’s been a month since that happened, and Aone hasn’t brought himself to talk to you since. He felt terrible for having to reject you, and he didn’t want to waltz into your life like nothing had happened. He thought you wanted space. And part of you did, hence why you were now packing for a trip to the states.
You had originally planned to go to school in Miyagi; you had gotten a pretty good scholarship and they had your major! But after what happened you started looking at other options, options that would take you far away from Miyagi. Far away from your heart break. A part of you didn’t want to talk to him, you just wanting to let everything go in hopes it would make it hurt less. But the biggest, and arguably less sensible part of you, could never want that...you truly loved Aone, and even if he didn’t return your feelings you couldn’t hate him.
Aone sighed as he held his head in his hands, frustration and heartbreak seemingly tearing him apart from the inside out. “Dude, just go talk to her.” He shot a half hearted glare at Futakuchi, who put his hands up in defense before running one through his messy brown hair. “I still don’t even understand why you told her you ‘didn’t have feelings for her’, dude, you’ve been in love with her since 1st year!” Aone just looked down.
“She’s not gonna be here forever...she’s leaving for America tomorrow...” Aone’s head shot up as his eyes widened, frantically looking towards his friend. “She’s.....leaving?” Futakuchi glanced at his friend with sympathy, “Yeah- wait, you didn’t know?!” Aone feverishly shook his head, “Shoot, sorry I would’ve told you sooner...What are you gonna do?” Aone thought for a moment. What could he do? No, he can’t do anything, it’s better this way. You’ll meet someone better, someone who could give you better, it’s what you deserve it’s what you..would...want...Wait a minute.
You wanted him. You loved him. You wanted to be with him, knowing better than anybody what he faced. You knew every imperfection; every flaw, and you chose to love him, you chose him...and he pushed you away....but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t going to fight to get you back, to fix things.
Aone looked down to his watch, checking the time. ‘7:43...the flower shop around the corner is still open if I hurry..’ Standing up he bid his friends goodbye. Luckily for him he had been out to dinner with the other Alumni of the Date Tech volleyball team, so he was already in town, and only 25 minutes or so from where you lived. He made a trip to the store, minding to get your favorite flowers as he ran to your house, ignoring any and all odd glances that were spared his way.
After cutting a 25 minute trip down to a 13 minute run, he stopped hunched over in front of your house, flowers tousled but still in good condition. He didn’t know if you’d as much as open the door, but even if you gave him 1 minute, he’d try his absolute best to fix what he had broken. Stabilizing his breathing and trying to steady his heart beat he stood, walking to your door and knocking. He only saw one car in your drive way, it was yours, so he figured it was probably only you and your siblings home.
You opened the door, eyes widening as you saw who it was. Pushing down the pang of pain in your heart, you smiled, even if it wasn’t real you hoped it was convincing. It was not, Aone could always tell when your smiles were sincere or not. “Takanobu! What are you-” Before you could finish, he held the flowers, your favorite flowers, out to you. “Y/n, I’m sorry.” You smiled, a little softer this time as you took the flowers, shaking your head. “You- *sigh* you don’t need to be sorry...It’s...it’s my fault, I misread things, I shouldn’t have said anything...”
He shook his head, you tilting yours a bit in question. “It’s not that...I’m sorry for lying to you...” Your eyes narrowed in confusion, opening your mouth to say something when he beat you to it. “I have feelings for you Y/n. I have since we were first years....I...I didn’t say anything because I didn’t want to put the person I love above everything else through...the stares, and whispers..and rumors...you don’t deserve that Y/n...you deserve the best...and I can’t give that to you....But i’m going to try.”
You gulped as you tried to keep your composure, Aone looking you in the eyes with determination. “I love you Y/n, and maybe you don’t feel the same any more, maybe I missed my chance, but even so I will never stop loving you...I don’t think I can...I know you’re leaving tomorrow, so, if you still have feelings for me, I’ll wait as long as it takes for you to come back, even if it’s 2, 4 or however many years from now...I’ll always come back to you.”
You wiped your tears on your sleeve before you quickly set the flowers down on the entry way table, turning, and launching yourself at the tall man, latching onto him like your life depended on it. “I love you. I love you so, so much. You didn’t miss your chance...Because, oh gosh, even if you didn’t feel the same, I would never be able to just let you go....” He sighed in relief before wrapping his arms tightly around you, burrowing his head into your neck.
“...How long will you be gone...?” You smiled, “Well, now, just a week.” He pulled away a bit to look at you, eyes narrowing in confusion. You chuckled as you looked down, “I was just going there to scout out some colleges...but now that we’re together, I don’t have to do that anymore....” You paused for a second before realizing what you had said, whipping your head up and your eyes boring into his, “I mean, only if you want to date me! I don’t mean to force anything-” You were cut off again by his laughter. Something you didn’t hear a lot, or really at all.
Usually the most you got out of him was a smile or a small, small chuckle. But he was full on laughing. “What?!” Despite the fact he was laughing at you, you couldn’t help but crack a smile, being brought an infinite amount of happiness from hearing his laugh.
“I just spent the last 30 minutes running around town, getting your favorite flowers, confessing to you on your doorstep, and you worry about me not wanting to be your boyfriend, after that?” You stuttered a bit before mumbling ‘shut up’ before nuzzling into his chest. “ANyways, I’ll be going to Sendai U...like we talked about.” Aone smiled as he held you that much tighter, sighing in content as he held his girlfriend in his arms.
Even if you hadn’t taken him back, or you had gone to America, he would have done everything he could to make things right. Even when he felt like he was on his last leg, he’d always go back to you. And he knew, you’d do the same.
“How many times can I break 'til I shatter? Over the line can't define what I'm after, I always turn the car around. All that I feel is the realness I'm faking, Taking my time but it's time that I'm wasting, Always turn the car around”
#aone x reader#aone x y/n#aone takanobu#haikyu x reader#Haikyuu!!#haikyuufanfiction#dateko#date tech#y/n#Valentines Day Event 2021
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Golden Cage - Chapter.11
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: She’s a spoiled little princess — at least that’s what people say. Her father is the King of all Kings, the man who everyone fears. Then, along comes Dean Winchester, the one guy who manages to see into her soul, but —
— is Dean really who he says he is?
Chapter Warnings: Teasing, violence, angst
WC: 5607
Beta’d by: @deanwanddamons <3
Series Masterlist ~ SPN Masterlist
Become a Patron ~ Buy me a coffee
Y/N’s in Dean’s bedroom, getting herself ready while Dean talks on the phone. It rang after he came out of the shower and he walked into the living room. She doesn’t know if it’s to give her privacy or if he doesn’t want her to hear. Either way, she doesn’t have time to dwell on it because she has to get herself ready for a meeting. The first outing that she’s allowed to have in the name of the family.
Her clothes are all laid out on the bed and while she applies moisturizer to her body. She puts the outfits together in her mind, thinking about what would suit her best, what would be the best outfit that’ll show that she means it. An outfit that shows that she’s a woman who can keep up with the men. Nothing too revealing, she guesses, but something fierce enough to make them gasp. Her mind’s setting on the pencil leather skirt, now she just has to see what blouse would fit best with her skirt and the shoes she’s packed.
Dean’s still talking outside and she hears that he’s trying to keep his voice down. She slips into her panties. The fabric of the little garment rubs a little too hard against her sensitive clit. She thinks about ditching them later, wonders if it would matter. Nobody will know if she’s wearing panties or not, right? Also, there’s chafing from Dean’s scruff that doesn’t support the argument of her having to wear panties. She’s sensitive all over, feels like her nipples are raw from his sucking, too. God, that man will definitely be the death of her, but it’s not like she minds.
Everything is super sensitive now because they did it again in the shower. Dean’s shower is not as spacious as the shower at her home, but they made it fit and he fucked her standing up against the wall, pressing her back into the tiles and hooked one arm below her knees, lifting her leg up while he rubbed at her clit.
Blood rushes to her head again when she thinks about it.
So now, she’s standing here, and debates between two blouses. One’s white with long flowing arms and the other one’s red, sleeveless, with a bow around her neck.
She can’t possibly make up her mind because she likes them both, so she decides to ask Dean. He knows exactly where they are going, he would know what would fit, wouldn’t he?
Still in only her panties, she clutches the blouses to her chest to hide that little modesty she still possesses, even though she knows that Dean’s seen it all already anyway, and he probably likes her best without any clothes on at all. Knows it, because he had stated it a couple of times, and it always makes her flustered all over.
Dean’s standing at the dining table and her cheeks get hot again thinking about what they’ve done on there. He’s not dressed either, a towel hanging dangerously low around his hips, making him look absolutely delicious with damp ruffled up hair. The scars on his body have a certain edge to them, but the freckles round the edges up. He’s devine and that’s not really fair. He has no business being so perfect.
Biting on her bottom lip, she approaches him, but he’s not paying her attention. He’s looking down to the hand that fidgets around the back of a chair. It’s as if he’s a little nervous, a little on edge.
“Hey,” She hisses and Dean frowns, but still he doesn’t look.
“Dean!” She tries again and he only holds a forefinger up at her to shush her while he concentrates on listening to the conversation. He still doesn’t look up at her. It’s as if he tries to avoid her at any cost.
Rolling her eyes, she tries to think of a way to get his attention, grinning when she gets a flash of an idea.
Y/N drops the blouses to the floor and shows him her boobs, “Hey!” She hisses again, louder, while she squeezes them together and jiggles them around.
Well, she gets his attention now, but he’s looking less than amused. Dean frowns, and waves at her to stop.
Then she hears it.
“Yes, sir, goodbye.”
Fuck.
He’s talking to her dad.
And she just flashed him.
Dean hangs up and sets the phone onto the table and exhales deeply before he rubs a hand over his face.
He turns to her after and speaks. His voice is loud and he sounds annoyed, “Jesus fucking Christ, princess!”
Oh, so now she’s back to being princess. She guesses that when he’s upset with her, she’s forever going to be princess to him.
“You can’t just show me your tits when I talk to your father! Fuck, now every time I talk to him I’ll see them in my mind!” He growls low.
She’s smirking and tries not to laugh because honestly, that is a little funny?
Dean begs to differ though, because he strolls closer. One hand goes below her chin, fingers cupping it and turns it upwards to meet his eyes while his other hand cups around one of her tits, palms kneading, fingers pinching at her nipple, she squirms.
“What is it that couldn’t possibly wait until I’m finished with a call?”
“I don’t know what to wear,” She mumbles and Dean groans out in frustration before he bends down to kiss her.
“You know,” He says when he parts, his hands leaving her completely to pick up her blouses from the floor, “One day, you’re going to kill me with your bratty behavior.”
She grins as he hands the blouse to her, “You like it, though?”
At least she hopes he does. Like, he knew what he had gotten himself into when it all started, so he really can’t blame her for acting the way she does.
He rolls his eyes briefly, but it’s all fake because he’s grinning now when he bends down to peck her lips, “Love it.”
Smiling, she holds up the blouses and lifts her eyebrows.
“White.” He nods toward the white blouse, “Although I would love to see the red on you, but I think white would suit better tonight. Makes you look more like someone to take seriously and not some eye candy hanging off someone’s arm.”
“Thanks,” She says and thinks that’s what she likes about Dean. He says things like it is, doesn’t sugarcoat it and he’s not just babbling to shut her up.
“Go get dressed before I can’t hold myself back from taking you all over again.” He smacks her ass on his way to the bathroom.
“Who said I would mind that?” Y/N calls after him and Dean chuckles.
She almost threw him off his balance with her jiggly tits. It’s not really fair. And really, he hopes that her tits won’t be the first thing that comes to his mind when he sees Azazel’s caller ID.
The boss had informed him that Benny would be at the meeting too and that rubs him the wrong way. What’s so fucking important for Benny to be there anyway? Azazel made it clear that Benny’s not allowed to interfere with Dean’s business, but Dean will only believe it when he sees it.
He’s gnawing on his bottom lip as they drive towards Atlantic City.
It’s a two hour drive and they made it halfway when she turned in her seat. The leather underneath her ass makes a loud sound. That’s right, she’s wearing leather. He almost choked on his own drool when he saw it.
Dean gets weak for leather. Especially for her in leather. The skirts so tight it accentuates her round ass. He couldn’t help but spank down on it a couple of times while they walked down the stairs from his apartment. Every time she would stop and stare at him with a rolling of her eyes and every time, Dean would giggle like an idiot.
It’s good between them. They’re relaxed. He likes that. Would like to keep it that way, but he knows that it’s just only the start of a hardship he might have to go through. She might have to go through.
After they laid in his bed for a while, with her in his arms, he stroked her back, with neither of them speaking. Sometimes there’s just nothing to say and he liked that the most. The comfortable silence. There were no sorry excuses, no thoughts of having made a mistake, no small talk just to get over the awkwardness of the situation after the lust has worn out. And that was the moment that he thought about the future for the first time. That he could just grab her and run away. Nobody would know, nobody would find them. It would be good, he just knows it. It’s only — Dean doesn’t know if she would want it. If she was even ready to leave everything behind, and the last thing he wants to be is selfish. But yeah, maybe he would do it all for her, leave everything behind and screw up the Bureau for a woman. Which is really a stupid thing to do, but it would probably be worth it.
They drive past a big advertisement for Roman Empire. It’s the biggest and apparently the best casino in Atlantic City. Of course, it is. The Roman’s wouldn’t settle for second best.
“We’re going to meet the Roman’s?” She asks curiously, and Dean can hear it in her tone of voice that she’s not really keen on meeting them.
“Yeah, they have some proposals.”
“They’re dicks.” She mumbles under her breath.
Dean has to chuckle at that, because she’s not wrong. The Roman’s are the number one mob family in Atlantic City. They are the equivalent to the Lehne’s. They own every casino, hell, they even own New Jersey. Their wealth is immense.
He cocks an eyebrow at her, “You’ve met them?”
“Yeah, at gatherings where Dad allowed me to attend. Dick is a real big dick. I heard he moved to California, set up his own thing there. His father is a sleazeball.”
“I know,” Dean reaches over, takes her hand in his, “Just, don’t let your emotions overrule your head, okay? We’re there to make deals.”
“Ugh,” She groans with an eye roll.
“That’s the spirit,” He smirks and takes her hand, places it to his lips to kiss it quickly.
She sighs, “What if he touches me?”
“Who?”
“Zachariah, Dick. Both of them.”
Frowning, Dean looks over to her, “Have they done that before?”
“Yeah,”
Dean’s grip tightens around her hand. Jesus, he feels like punching something all of a sudden.
His voice is deep, and he growls a little when he speaks again, “Does your father know that they have touched you inappropriately?”
“He was right there.”
Fucking Christ, now he really wants to shoot someone. His heart absolutely aches for what she had to go through growing up in this family. Growing up in a world reigned by men. It’s not a great environment for a girl to grow up.
“I’ll put them in their place if they do,” Dean says. It’s the only thing he can say, really. He can’t erase the past, but he can make sure that he’s here in the present.
“What if you aren’t there?”
Dean catches a glimpse of her little pout when the street light illuminates up the inside of the car.
“I’ll always be beside you.” He assures her, because yeah, after finding out that piece of information, he doesn’t really have the urge to leave her unattended at all.
“Promise?”
He places another kiss on the back of her hand, “Promise.”
*
They arrive and Dean gets out of the car, walks around to open up the passenger side for her, and holds out a hand to help her out.
“You know they have valet parking, right?” She asks before she takes his hand.
Dean shrugs, “I feel better knowing where my car is and can reach it at all times.”
She only frowns a little as she gets out.
“Remember, no weapons.” He says as she’s standing before him.
She waves her clutch around, “Duh, how can I fit that into my clutch?”
“Y/N,” Dean looks at her sternly. She thinks he’s joking but really, he’s not. It’s the rule. No fucking weapons when they come in peace. The Lehni’s have the same rule and it’s only fair that they play by the Roman’s rule, even though Dean hates the rule himself. He looks at her again, cocks one eyebrow because she’s still looking at him like she’s innocent. Dean hates that look because she’s not. She’s not innocent when she grins up at him while she licks at his asshole, she’s not innocent when she moans for him to fuck her harder. No, she’s not and he shouldn’t get weak, “Put your gun back. Now.”
Rolling her eyes back dramatically, she lets out a loud sigh. Dean has to hold back a chuckle. He watches her lift up her leather skirt, watches her take out her gun from her holster, and turns around to put it into the glove compartment of his car.
“How did you know?” She whines when she turns back to him, bracing her arms across her chest and fucking pouts.
“I’m just good like that,” He grins cockily before he weaves an arm around her waist to help steady her in her heels as he guides her towards the entrance of the casino.
*
They are led into the back of the casino, where there’s a strip club. Dean has since taken his arms from around her waist because it’s back to acting like they aren’t more than what they are. It pains him a little. Irritates him a whole lot. And from the way her body’s drawn to him, leaving him no space, he can see that she’s not entirely happy about it either.
He leans closer, nose brushing against her temple, “Just this, okay? I’m right here.”
She seems to nod. Dean can’t really see it because she’s following the employee who’s walking ahead and he waits a couple of seconds, walking a safe distance after her.
The door to the strip club opens and loud music spills out of it. The room is dark, neon lights everywhere. It’s a tad over the top, he thinks. A little cheap, like who the hell uses neon lights nowadays anyway? It makes him feel like he’s in a dingy strip club and not a high-end one.
Dean seems to be the only one who thinks it’s tacky because the club is packed. There are girls dancing on stage, girls grinding on men’s lap and he notices Y/N stalling by the door. She doesn’t look comfortable at all.
He reaches out, touches her arm, “I’m going first,” He whispers, “Follow me,”
She does, follows him and catches up to him pretty quickly. They are walking beside each other now and she takes glances left and right while they still follow the employee around.
“You've been to a strip club before?” She asks underneath her breath.
“Yeah,” He chuckles.
“Huh,”
“Not lately, though.” Dean tries to talk himself out of his mistake, but he knows that he’ll probably get an earful when they’re alone.
“Huh,”
She crosses her arms over her chest while they walk and he thinks it’s adorable how she’s jealous. It makes him a little proud to know that he’s not the only one feeling the things he does.
The employee leads them along across the club, and there were a couple of girls who gave him the eye, some of them make themselves known by bumping into him. Dean tries his best not to look. Tries to fucking stay focused and walk on because he’s here to do his job and well, maybe it’s also because he doesn’t want to upset her. It’s not like he’s interested anyway. Not when the girl he actually wants sitting on his lap is her.
Y/N only rolls her eyes as she sees him trailing along, and Dean smirks, which earned him another eye roll. He thinks it’s cute. She’d deny.
They were led onto the second floor where there was a group of chairs sitting around a table. They spot Benny and his two right-hand men Ed and Nick. Nick has risen up in his ranks, as Dean can see. What Dean didn’t account for was to see Azazel sitting with them, his two bodyguards standing behind him. Women in skimpy bikinis are serving them drinks and there’s one sitting on Nick’s lap.
“You didn’t tell me they’d all be here,” Y/N whispers through her gritted teeth, loud enough for him to hear.
“I didn’t know about your dad, okay?”
“But you knew about Benny?”
“Yeah, from the phone call which you flashed me your fucking tits.” Dean hisses while they walk over slowly, so they can have this exchange of words.
They both try to smirk while not letting people see that they are talking to each other.
“Oh, please,” She chuckles, “You love them.”
“I’d love them more if I wasn’t associating them with your dad,” He says and nods at the waitress who just walked past him.
“I wish you would have told me at least about Benny.”
“Why? Would that have changed your mind?”
“No, but I would have worn fucking panties.”
Dean stops mid-stride and she looks back at him with a grin. He watches her walk up to her people, greeting them and taking a seat next to her father.
He wished that she would have kept that fucking detail to herself, though. Now he won’t be able to think of anything else than her sitting there with nothing underneath her fucking leather skirt. And she’s probably still dripping his cum while she looks her father straight in his eyes.
This is pure torture and he’s been tested, he knows.
This fucking girl.
Y/N greets her dad with a kiss to his cheek and sits down, only nodding to the other men around.
“I think you should leave,” She says to the girl in Nick’s lap, even before Dean sits down and the stripper looks at her in bewilderment. She smiles politely, “You heard me.”
“I’ll tell her to leave whenever I want,” Nick snarls.
“And I’m telling her to leave now. It’s not a fucking party, Nick. We’re here for business.” She says firmly, stands by her point that nobody should listen in. They can’t be careful enough with possible snitches around.
Dean sits down next to her, rights his suit jacket and nods towards Nick, “You heard the lady, man. Ditch the stripper,”
Nick gasps and looks over to Benny for some back up but Benny ignores him completely. Reluctantly, he pushes the stripper away and the girl stands up and struts away angrily.
“Since when does she call the shots around here— Ow!” Nick yelps out and everyone knows that Benny kicked him under the table.
God, her dad really works with an immature bunch of men, doesn’t he?
Her dad leans towards her, whispering in her ear and she tunes out all the other ramblings she hears from Nick, “You’re doing good. It’s a whole new side I see. I like it. Did Dean explain to you and teach you what tonight’s all about?”
“Yes, he did.” She tries to not think about other things he taught her about, the things that make her whimper in pleasure.
“Good,” Her dad nods.
Five minutes passed until a big bulky bodyguard walks in and calls for them. Zachariah is ready to meet.
They have been led through another door where they step into an elevator. The eight of them, plus the bodyguard, stand close, chest to chest and she’s glad Nick and his filthy hands were far away from her, glad that it’s Dean who’s next to her, not so glad that her dad is on her other side of her.
Y/N feels something warm between her legs, feels Dean’s cum trickling out thickly, has to squint her eyes and frowns a little. Of course Dean notices, looking down at her and raises his eyebrows. She doesn’t say anything, can’t possibly talk when everyone can hear her.
When they arrive, everyone scrambles to get out of the confined space pretty quickly, but Dean stays.
He looks down with worried eyes, “You okay?”
“Yeah,” She says, “Your cum dripped out. I might need some tissues.”
“Jesus,” Dean mutters under his breath and shakes his head as he steps out of the elevator.
She can’t help but grin as she catches up with the lot.
Goddamnit, he’s really being tested right now. How can he sit still and concentrate when he knows she fucking leaks him while sitting next to her fucking father?
She’s going to be the death of him, Dean just knows it.
They arrive at a heavy door, which is held up by two other big bulky men and they step in, where Zachariah is already waiting, sitting at a big round table with his son. The table only fits six, so Azazel takes a seat, beckons for his daughter and Dean. Benny takes a seat too and Dean still hasn’t figured out why the hell the dude’s here.
“Do the two losers need to be here?” Zachariah asks into the round, pointing his chin towards Ed and Nick and all eyes are on Benny.
“Uh, no, they don’t.” The man says and Dean has to hold himself back not to speak that Benny too, doesn’t have any business to be here.
“Then they should leave. Go to the club. My treat.” Zachariah says with a sleazy grin.
Y/N was right when she said that he’s a sleazeball. Dean has to smirk a little thinking back on how she said it.
The two men’s faces light up and they immediately disappear, muttering something about a lapdance while Benny shakes his head. Benny’s probably questioning his entourage right now. A bunch of unprofessionals is what they are.
“Why are you here?” Zachariah asks and he stares at Y/N, his tongue darts out to lick his lips and Dean balls his hands into fists. God, he would just love to punch that fucker for looking at her like that.
“She’s dipping her toes into the business, Zach,” Azazel says, and maybe Dean’s mistaken, but he can hear something in the tone of his voice. Something that says that Azazel’s a little proud.
“Sweetheart, you shouldn’t be doing this,” Dick, who hasn’t said a word until now says, smirking a little, “Don’t you have somewhere else to be? Spending daddy’s cash or organizing some catering for parties?”
Dean’s lips are already parted, he already wanted to put Dick into place, but Y/N cuts him off.
“I actually do have better things to do, yes. But you wanted a meeting and that’s why we’re here. Can’t choose where you’re born into, can you, Dick? I bet you have better things to do in California as well.”
She says it with a calm voice, but he knows that she’s not. Her hands are shaking a little and he knows that she wanted to say so much more. She wanted to run her mouth, put Dick into place, but she chose to stay professional. He absolutely admires her. Dean lays a hand on her thigh under the table, some kind of a reassurance that he’s here. A way of telling her that she’s doing great so far.
Dick looks at her father, a frown on his face and Zach just clears his throat, “Right, so shall we? We want to get this over with before we go to the next part which is more relaxing to me.”
Dean doesn’t even know that there’s a next part, but he agrees that he too, wants to get this over with.
“We’ve been in contact with Winchester before,” Zach nods at Dean and Dean nods back, “We have not one but three shipments on their way over from China. It’s the biggest deal we’ve ever made with the Chinese. All we need are some old warehouses where we can set up labs.”
“You don’t have enough of this in New Jersey?” Azazel asks and Dean knows why. Azazel is keen on dealing but not keen on cooking the drugs himself.
Zach laughs heartily and elbows his son who starts to laugh too, “No we don’t. Not for that amount of goods,”
“How many are we talking about?” It’s Benny who asks.
“About sixty to seventy warehouses.”
Azazel whistles under his breath, “That’s a lot.”
“It’s a lot of money we can make.” Dick chimes in.
The King clicks his tongue and exhales loudly, “What’s our cut?”
“We will provide the infrastructure, provide the cooks and the people manning the warehouse. We will pay you rent.” Dick says, and adds, “But we know that you don’t like to have your fingers deep in cooking so we’ll reward you for renting it out to us. 30% of the profit.”
“That’s how much?” It’s Y/N who asks. Dean’s a little proud, a little stunned too that she followed the conversation. Well, he knows that she’s not dumb but they don’t. Everyone is looking at her now and notice that she’s still here.
“Roughly about $600k a month,” Zach says proudly.
“So, say, we let you rent seventy warehouses and you make $30k a month per warehouse. That would mean you make over $2m a month and will give us our $600k cut,” Y/N calculates it in her head, “How can you be so sure that you’re going to make that much money?”
“Girl can do some math, congratulations!” Zach shouts out in mockery and really, Dean has to fucking hold himself back, “We know this because it’s not the first time we’ve cooked, sweetheart.”
“And why only 30% then? We have more risks, people are disposable, warehouses aren’t. If they find a warehouse, it will somehow lead back to us. We have more risk than you do, I’d think we need to raise the stake.” She drums on her notepad with her ballpoint pen while she cocks an eyebrow at Zach and Dick.
Christ, Dean finds that side of her highly attractive. It turns him on when she has them by the balls.
“What do you suggest?” Dick looks at her with a smug grin on his face.
“50%,”
“What?” Zach spits and Dick has to calm his father down, laying a hand on Zach’s arm.
“What’s your guarantee for us?” Dick asks as he feels his dad calming down enough.
She looks into the round and Dean just knows that she has something in mind. He can see from the glint in her eyes, sees it in how her lips curve up into a smile.
Tonight before they left, she wanted to look at the files and she sat there for an hour, looking through what little information Dean had, and when she finished, she started to smile and that’s when Dean knew that she wanted to lead the deal and he knew that he’d gladly let her. It’s also for her to show her dad that she’s capable, that maybe Azazel doesn’t have to tighten the leash around her as much as he had. That maybe, when this deal is a success, she’ll get to have more rights, gets to have her own car, gets to have a little freedom. Dean fully supports it.
Dean hands her the documents with a nod and she smiles at him. Her dad cocks an eyebrow while Benny frowns. They have no idea what’s going to hit them. Well, he doesn’t really know either, because she wouldn’t tell him, but he trusts her.
Y/N rolls out the map of the city where she had circled warehouses they own in red circles. She stands up and braces her hands on the table, “As you can see, we own 120 warehouses and counting.”
“Did you know we own that much?” Azazel whispers to Dean behind her back and he shrugs.
He did, Azazel doesn’t have to know it, though.
They sit in silence when Y/N continues, “My idea is to move production around. Never stay in one place for too long. That will be less suspicious for the neighborhood of the warehouses. That way, the chance of getting busted is as good as zero.”
“But that’s a lot of moving infrastructure around.” Dick states.
“Would you rather you get busted?” Dean chimes in, he just had to, “When they get us, they’ll get you.”
“No, of course not.”
“Here’s my offer,” Y/N says and sits down, folds her arms on the table while she looks Zachariah straight in the eye, “120 warehouses to do as you please. Only seventy will be occupied at the same time, not more, not less. 50% of your profit.”
They are all holding their breath as they watch Zach and Dick turn in their chairs to whisper something into each other's ears. Dean reaches over under the table again, squeezes her thighs and she looks at him, grins a cocky grin. Jesus, maybe he just fell in love a little more than he already had.
Azazel leans back in his chair and over to his daughter, “You did your homework, princess. I’m proud.”
Her face beams.
It’s adorable really how she longs to be recognized. How she wished to be heard all those years. It’s really sad too, and there’s the thing Dean feels in his gut again that makes him nauseous. Makes him want to protect her at all cost and show her that she’s worth fucking everything.
“Okay,” Zach says after clearing his throat, “Congratulations, Y/N, you got yourself a deal there. Our lawyers will be in contact.”
Her smile grows wide, and he can see that she’s all giddy. Dean really wants to take her into his arms but he knows that it’s uncalled for. That he shouldn’t act like he’s closer to her than what he is.
Azazel nods his approval, smiling a little and it’s creepy. Dean had never seen the man smile before.
“Great, onto the next part, the weapon deal, are you involved in that too?” Zach asks, and Dean knew that he missed something because he wasn’t involved either.
“Nobody knows, because we just only talked about it briefly last time, Zach,” Azazel says.
“Okay, then please everyone who’s not involved may leave the room.” Zachariah announces and Dean can only look at her.
She has to leave and she knows it, even though he doesn’t want her to, but it’s not a made deal and she has no clue, she can’t stay, not when her dad is here, too. Subtly, she nods at him, as if she understands.
“You can go to the club, Y/N, my treat!” Zach says, it’s more mockery than anything else and Dean really really wants to punch that fucking dude square in the face.
*
The meeting is over quicker than he thought it would be. It’s just talks that bore him to death with weapon deals that aren’t even fixed yet. Dean really doesn’t know why she had to leave the room and he feels so fucking bad because he promised her that he’d be by her side. It’s a good thing that he had control over Dick and Zach, though. So at least they couldn’t have come on to her and touch her inappropriately.
Everyone is making their way up the elevator, with Dick and Benny in deep conversation and Azazel and Zach. Apparently, Dick and Benny has some other issues to work through which Dean shouldn’t know about, but as hard as Dean tried to eavesdrop, he can’t make out a word because Zach was raving to Azazel about the casino and the strip club, inviting him to show him around because they have this new spa in the newly build wing where you can even gamble while relaxing. It’s ridiculous really.
When they get out of the elevator, Azazel taps Dean on his shoulder, falls into step beside him, “Can you take my daughter home? I’ll probably stay the night and I don’t want her to wait and stay with me. I know she doesn’t like to be around them.”
Dean knows who he means by them. So the little detail didn’t slip Azazel’s eyes and Dean’s actually quite glad that the man knows how uncomfortable the men are to his daughter.
“Of course,” Dean answers, has to fucking try not to show too much emotion.
“Thanks,” The King nods, and places a hand on Dean’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze of approval.
God, Dean doesn’t know if he’d still be thanking him if he knew that Dean’s already fucked his daughter not once but three times.
They make their way down the stairs to the club and already something seems off. The people are talking in hushed tones, the strippers aren’t stripping and the girls aren’t dancing.
Dean spots it then, spots her at the back, where Nick has pinned her against the wall, his hand around her throat. People around them watch in horror and Ed tries to talk Nick out of it, but the dude already lifts his hand and slaps her across the face.
Chapter.12
#golden cage#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x you#dean x reader#dean x you#dean winchester fic#dean winchester fan fic#dean winchester fan fiction#nathalie writes
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season 2 of she-ra rated by catradora content
the frozen forest: “aw, cute, you can turn your sword into stuff.” very interesting how adora has to literally train not by fighting any real soldiers in the horde just... catra. light hope scanned her brain and knew she wouldn’t bother to run after anyone else :/ which. is true. call her out!! she fights bots too but she has more or less no issues with them even though she’s no expert with turning her sword into stuff yet, but then catra comes out, and suddenly adora can’t even block a single punch because catra laughed at her :( AND suddenly her sword can’t turn into anything but a cup. why adora? are you thirsty? it’s even funnier because none of this is real, and adora KNOWS that none of this is real, but she’s still Affected when fake catra says her seductive “hey adora” and she decides oh i know! i’ll turn my sword into a d*ldo with holes! oh wait never mind, is that a flute? damn it now she wants to Serenade catra. that’s even gayer than wanting to have sex with her. “did you mean to do that? because if you did it’s a terrible weapon.” “is not! >:(“ adora’s comebacks are like. kindergarten quality shit. i would make fun of catra’s insult too but in her defense that’s not actually catra. so adora tries to hit fake catra with her musical instrument and it doesn’t really work so she tackles fake catra and pins her to the ground. and looks,,, low key aroused as she does it okay adora.... she’s not real please remember that.... ur already a furry please don’t also be a bot fucker “what are you waiting for? you gonna play me a song on that thing?” yes she WAS catra! that’s what i’ve been SAYING don’t be mean to your girlfriend when she’s trying to serenade you :( adora gets angry after this latest act of oppression so she raises her hand, about to hit fake catra, but she stops right before the weapon can make contact, and her face softens. “i knew you couldn’t do it.” fake catra fades and the audience finds out something adora already knew. none of this was real, and even if she had hit fake catra and killed her, real catra would be fine. And Yet,,,,, big fucking sigh bros. haha y’all ever so hung up on a chick that you can’t even kill a fake simulation of her? even though she’s your enemy? lmaoooooo anyway the training simulation ends and adora is so depressed she transforms out of her she-ra form and asks “did you have to make her so mean? :(“ even tho light hope is about to come out and yell gay slurs at her. light hope shows up and is very confused. is catra... not mean? was my catra ooc miss adora? :/ did this catra hit different? too hostile? not like what ur used to? :/ go to hell adora if you made catra into a sim and picked her defining trait it WOULD be MEAN god everyone’s a critic. and then adora is like ok ur right :( catra is mean.... but have you considered making your simulation’s fake catra one that will hold me gently in her arms? have you considered that maybe i don’t want to fight her and that i want to kiss her instead? god damn it light hope you bitch. you fucking homophobe.
light hope is like okay cool. this latest performance was ur worst one btw and adora is like why do you THINK and is like i wanna be the very best :( like no one ever was :( and protecc etheria :( “but catra, she’s just in my head” ;) oh yeah i bet she is adora JFJSJDJSJD “when you grow up with someone, they know how to push your buttons :(” that’s very true adora. but you also grew up with many people such as lonnie, rogelio, and kyle. and you don’t seem to give a shit about them :/ so i guess “grow up with someone” really means “be in love” huh. i love you but do NOT lie to me ever again. after this, we see the real catra :’) she’s back at the horde training kyle, lonnie, and rogelio. “she-ra is too strong to defeat with force alone. but she’s slow and easily manipulated.” yeah maybe for you! maybe she slows down when she fights you because ur pretty and ur voice is sexy! way to flex ur privilege :( not everyone can manipulate she-ra because she’s not in love with all of them ok :( just u :( later on, we’re back at the war meeting in bright moon. bow says “we’re defeating the bots, but more keep coming. while we’re using our resources to hold our borders, the horde hasn’t had to deploy a single soldier.” hey! that’s a perfectly normal statement right! one that does not mention any specific person. there should be no reason for anyone to respond to this by bringing up any individual. guess what adora says. guess what she fucking says. i’m so fucking done oh my god. “typical catra >:(“ did... did bow MENTION catfkakdjsjdjsjs????? i’m fucking WHEEZING. adora. baby. could u. like. chill out? :/ re catra? for like one second? no? okay guess i’ll have to live with it. adora is so hung up over the “hey adora ;)” she heard from fake catra during training that she has to repay the favor when she fights entrapta’s upgraded bots. adora looks into the camera of one of the bots and just. she just KNOWS catra is watching and she’s correct. and she’s like “hey catra ;)” before punching the camera and cutting the live stream. catra’s response isn’t to immediately ditch the horde and go kiss adora (booooooo) but to. try and explode she-ra using one of the other bots. okay. i guess we all cope with arousal in different ways :/ when the bot explodes and adora realizes her attempt at seduction did not work out the way she intended (press f to pay respects), she gets all “>:( catra” which is very cute and iconic of her. and it’s apparently her way of coping with the situation so i’ll just let her be! 9/10
ties that bind: fuck you swift wind. what the FUCK. i can’t believe adora had to go on some stupid quest with the horse all because she would be fiFTy sEVeN pERcenT mOrE eFFeCtivE with him. who gives a shit. catra getting kidnapped and tied up is clearly the superior plot here and adora wasn’t there for it?? which, i know is the whole point, but also, why did they have to put her with the horse. would’ve rather seen adora with literally any of the princesses instead. haha jk. but also, am i? it is important that adora gets over her hatred of swift wind and bonds with him. but also, is it? sigh, let’s get on with the show. bow and glimmer set out to go bring back entrapta. “let’s go get adora!” bow baby. u r so woke. i love that attitude. yes y’all should’ve absolutely brought adora along. no she was not doing anything important. “adora’s training!!!!” glimmer baby i love u but why :( why would u do this :( anyway, bow and glimmer get tricked into thinking the horde is torturing entrapta so they (accidentally) kidnap catra. bow is an absolute sweetheart who just. is sweet to everyone so he tries bonding w catra and is like “come on, i bet even the horde has friends. what about adora? :3 you two grew up together. what was she like as a kid? :3” because adora is bow’s best friend and he wants to know more about her <3 best boy <3 and catra just hisses at him because if she spoke she would probably say. adora was everything to me. adora made me laugh, she played with me, she took care of me, she protected me even when everyone else looked the other way. just seeing her would put a smile on my face. she held my hand. she hugged me. she was my shoulder to cry on. adora was the only good thing in my life at the horde. i have been in love with her my entire life. and now she’s she-ra. anyway. catra decides to annoy glimmer into letting her go, and glimmer gets so frustrated that she says “how did adora take years of this? she didn’t run away from the horde. she ran away from YOU” which. is about the most horrifying thing you could say to catra since she like. really believes that. and adora’s not even there to defend herself :( and say shit like. Well It Helped That I Was In Love With Catra And That Every Moment We Spent Together Was Filled With Laughter And Joy Because No One Else Has Ever Made Me This Happy Even When We Were Stuck Together In The Worst Place On Etheria—stuff like that u know? :/ anyway catra is like :’( —> >:’( “adora’s gonna dump u one day too glimmer!!” + “you and adora are perfect for each other, i’ll give you that. earnest, naive, ridiculously easy to manipulate. it’s adorable!” wow catra. u think…… adora…. is…. adorable? wow…. :’) djdjdjdjdjdj but yeah. she really said my gf is cute! my gf is earnest! and that’s pretty much it on the catradora front. notice how i didn’t say a word about the horse plot. yeah. :) i mean i physically couldn’t because this is a catradora based evaluation post. but ya. u get the point. 7/10
signals: huh! nothing! except when glimmer says “catra was right!” and adora’s face is like... u kno. u know how she gets when catra is suddenly brought up. 2/10 but the whole ghosts thing is cute. adora believing and wholeheartedly being scared of ghosts makes me think... catradora buzzfeed unsolved AU
roll with it: the absolute RIGHTS of this episode. adora planning obsessively because “you’re not taking the biggest variable into account :( catra </3 she’s been behind every horde plan, she led the attack on bright moon, she’s devious, she’s very cute—“ and everyone is like omg adora calm down,,,, okay fine we’ll fantasize about ur gf. so everyone is all: this is my catra headcanon <3 glimmer is like. catra is a sexy femme fatale. bow is like. catra and i would make so many sick fucking puns. and adora is like :( y’all are all headcanoning catra WRONG :( she’s sexy and funny and cute the Way She Is :( why mess with the original recipe? :( except she’s wrong because season 4 and 5 will exist one day. but she is not wrong because season 1-3 catra is also very good. adora u do u. have fun laughing at everyone’s interpretations of ur gf. go ahead and brag about how uve been in love w her ur entire life. adora is like. all ur plans suck. obviously catra would block or duck or jump up really high or look really cute or smile and dazzle u with her charms. how DARE you underestimate my enemy gf. and then everyone devolves into their cool plans again and adora is like CATRA CATRA CATRA >:( so everyone is like ok fine we are going 2 bully her. and we get this epic scene where they do impressions of catra, but it is visualized like: different versions of catra keep flanking adora, and she in that scene is clearly very seriously considering having a fourway with femme fatale catra, prom catra, and punny og catra. but in like uh.... a cool platonic way. anyway, everyone is like. hey adora. we know ur paranoid and obsessed with ur gf. but can we just attack the horde now? could you chill the fuck out? and adora is like. u wanna know the worst that could happen? fine. “i’m the heaviest hitter, so catra will separate me right away. trap me, take my sword, do Something so i’m helpless when she turns on you. she knows Everything about me, EXACTLY what i’ll do, EXACTLY how to take me out. they’ll overwhelm frosta and mermista with bots, they’ll fire on perfuma, and use her to draw bow out into the open, pinning him between the bots and the horde soldiers. glimmer will teleport in to save him, but she won’t have enough magic left to get out, trapping them both. catra will make me watch all of it before she Finishes Me Off.” which..... weirdly kinky, but okay, and also weirdly sweet if u think about it? like catra grew up thinking she was never as good as adora but adora even with her new she-ra powers now is convinced that catra is so good that she can predict and counter and overpower anything adora throws at her, even with her super-powered friends and allies <3 and she...... lets it paralyze her with fear and blames herself for anything that could possibly go wrong which is really sad and not good :( but stuff can be two things! and. we’re kind of trying to be gay here so let’s continue on the gay train <3 the princess alliance realizes that adora has major issues and give her love and support so adora is like oh nice!!! time to run in without a plan and stay true to my brute strength colors <3 and she’s so excited to see her gf..... only to find out, her gf isn’t there?????? the fuck???? she spent hours planning their fight date only to get stood the fuck up??????? she’s so distraught over it as she fights scorpia she goes through the five stages of grief. she’s like... catra’s really not here?? and she left you in charge???? and babe i get that ur jealous and upset that ur gf didn’t show up but hey :( don’t hate crime scorpia like that :( 8/10
white out: adora is upset that she hasn’t seen her enemy gf in a while so when the squad finds out that the horde is doing stuff in the north(?) adora decides that they must immediately go there in case the horde (catra) is doing stuff that she must stop the horde (catra) from doing immediately. and it works! they bump into the super pal trio! but before that, we see entrapta show catra the red disk that makes she-ra go RAGE and adora go floop. it’s basically a Make Adora Delirious/Drunk Crystal <3 catra gets an evil hate boner when she hears that the disk “takes away she-ra’s powers” and is like damn entrapta ;) why didn’t you tell me about that sooner ;) later on, the best friend squad bumps into the super pal trio! adora sees catra and is like. hey remember last episode? what the fuck was that babe. step the FUCK up. run away with me? <3 but here’s a more literal break down of what really happened: catra is threatening entrapta as she... tends to do when she’s interrupted by adora who says “catra! >:(“ completely ignoring that there are other people there who she should also greet. i mean it’s just manners u know? “it’s been a while.” is not an excuse. u haven’t seen entrapta either for an even longer time. and u had nothing to say to her? i get that ur gay and in love but have some respect okay :( catra is happy and decides it’s time to seduce her. we get yet another “heyyy adora ;)” for the books. adora starts to ignore everyone present again and banters pettily with catra about how catra lost the battle of bright moon, because you know :( she hasn’t seen her gf in a while :( and she didn’t get to rub things like that in her face :( and catra is like haha lmaooooo loserrrrr and it really pisses adora off so she’s like okay down to business then! go away >:( and catra’s like oh u want me to go away? make me ;) and so they literally. run away from everyone else. i’m not making this shit up they literally said those things and just ditched the group. and both groups, who have not said a fucking word to each other since this confrontation began because the lesbians are so fucking loud and clearly everything they discuss is personal and not an invitation for group convo, they’re all left there to be like..... i guess we should fight each other now? and scorpia is like UGHHH goddamn it. and u really feel for her u know? :/ u try and u try to ask a girl out and she’s so stupid she doesn’t know ur asking her out on a date, but her stupid ex walks in and all she has to do is run and catra runs in front of her ready to go on a date. what the fuck. anyway, catra and adora are also fighting. adora’s better at transforming her sword into stuff now so she summons a rope (ok kinkster) to grab catra’s leg and pull her towards her and she threatens catra with her sword, saying “don’t move.” catra’s response? “oh, please. you’d never have the guts.” and god damn it catra it’s not that she doesn’t have the guts! :( it’s that she loves you and doesn’t want to hurt you! and also she’s not into necrophilia! catra continues with “you know, as much as i love our fights, it’s way too cold for this.” i hate them so fucking much. they really do get off on this shit!!! i hate them but also mood!!!! stop flirting with each other ur both so goddamn annoying omg. “why don’t we try something new? ;)” yeah. something new like hmm what if y’all kissed? haha, just a suggestion! but no, catra decides to use the red crystal thingy :( haha SIKE i’m not :( at all i’m very much :) because we’ve been WAITING for drunk adora. i love that delirious baby. what a fucking cutie. but because she-ra’s sword is the one who gets poisoned, she-ra goes all angry and evil and catra is like that’s hot! but it’s not what i signed up for but also... oh lmao she’s fighting her friends? nice. this is hot again. complacently, catra goes “this is the greatest thing that’s ever happened!” causing evil!she-ra to realize she exists and trying to kill catra for real, and catra is like NEVER MIND I DID NOT SIGN UP FOR THIS and she’s like “adora wait :(“ which is like. babe no :( babe u were supposed to turn evil in a sexy way :( we could be sexy and evil together baby :( babe :( thankfully for catra adora’s not the only one who has a crush on her so scorpia tackles she-ra, separating her from her sword, and she goes back to adora. catra gets the sword, laughs, and says “that went so much better than i could’ve ever hoped.” did it?????? ur so stupid ur gf was about to murder u and u were ready to simp for ur life. then she goes “looks like you’re mine now, adora. >;)” and like. lifts adora’s face up by the chin with the tail end of the sword. and. let me just take a deep breath here. uh. What The Fuck Is That. HELLO?????? why is that. okay. HHHHHH. why!!!! good god!!!!! i hate sexual tension. anyway, catra tells scorpia to carry adora inside bc adora’s not wearing enough layers and she doesn’t want her gf to get cold :( jk but uh, they get adora inside, and catra is once again obsessed with her. she sits right next to her and pines like “always so perfect.... look at you now.... (i HATE how sexual this sounds) you’re coming back to the horde under my command.....” like. COME ON. why is she like this. ur allowed to be evil but i draw the LINE at u flirting with adora she’s not even AWAKE. and scorpia is like. could u. could u not be obsessed w adora for one second? it’s kinda harshing my vibe :/ and catra is like hehe she ra go >:( haha funney. we can turn the rebellion’s own hero against them. That’s Good™ i wonder which of your friends i’ll have you annihilate first... and then she giggles to herself and it’s so cute but babe. once again. stop flirting with adora while she’s out cold she won’t be able to flirt back :( and then the most. upsetting part of the ep happens. catra LEAVES and makes scorpia watch over adora before adora even wakes up so we don’t get! to see! catra with drunk/delirious adora!!!!!! what the FUCK. what is the POINT. i am DISTRAUGHT. hello?????? why were we robbed. whatever. it’s still good but come on not even one scene? :( scorpia is annoyed as she should be and is like UGH just wanted to be alone with catra but nooooo im stuck babysitting her “”””””ex-best friend””””””” which we all know is code for just. ex. LMAO fkdkdkdk like this isn’t even reaching we BEEN knew. anyway adora is being. so cute. so goddamn cute i am in love. adora barely even remembers her name but when scorpia is like hm what’s the passcode to the lab? adora goes BOOP BOOP BOOP BOOP BOOP and puts in catra’s super long fave number. that is so fucking cute that she knows and remembers that and thinks that catra would use it even tho she’s not even. in the right state of mind. and scorpia gets jealous obviously like ohhhh u know catra’s favorite number and i don’t! u grew up with catra and she’s been in love with you her whole life and i don’t have that! fuck u adora. even when u and catra are fighting each other tryna kill each other u can tell there’s a real bond there :( and like scorpia I’m so sorry baby I know :( they’re in love and it’s very annoying :( and i know adora is very annoying but have you also considered that she is very cute? that she is so lovely? and yeah that’s why catra is in love with her and shit :( seahawk and scorpia fight over adora and adora is like. hehe. catra mean <3 she’s so mean <3 and so hot and cute and sexy <3 omg im gonna marry her hehehehe <3 both sides reconvene to fight the bug, and adora finds glimmer vaguely familiar but doesn’t recognize who she is exactly. but she’ll remember catra’s long ass fave number. ok whore. catra, who’s also stupid, sees adora and is like guess I’ll drop all other priorities to get her! and tells scorpia to find the sword because she’s going after adora again. she’s so determined to keep adora that she.... catches a moving arrow. and throws it away. fjdjdjdjddj DAMN ok sheer gay determination is THAT strong huh. but it’s also sad because catra’s so busy fighting she doesn’t get to see adora being super cute :( it’s fucking wasted and not FAIR. catra thinks it’s funny that anyone would expect her to willingly give the disk up, because she’s got control of adora now, and control of adora means that adora won’t leave her.... which is not healthy :( but also HHHHHH but also it’s okay because their relationship gets healthy in the future and that’s very sexy of them <3 the disk is broken by scorpia in the end, and as adora regains.... conscious???ness????? idk??? her sense of reality??? sobers up???? anyway she and catra exchange this one last very heavy look, right before catra is grabbed by scorpia 9/10, except i want to take away so many points because of the wasted potential, but also i wanna add back so many points because of “looks like you’re mine now, adora ;)”
light spinner: ewwww shadow weaver ewwwww hordak i’m so sorry catra baby so sorry u had to interact with them instead of adora :( 0/10 </3
reunion: I AM SO SORRY. I AM SO FUCKING SORRY. THIS EP IS SO GOOD. BUT. I CANNOT BELIEVE I HAVE TO SAY THIS. THIS IS ONLY BECAUSE THIS IS A CATRADORA EVALUATION OK. therefore the rating is.... is..... :( 0/10 :( i know i am distraught too. :( despite what a masterpiece it was... there was no catradora :(
#text#she ra#catradora#spop#yes hello welcome back to whatever the fuck this is <3#yes i had to put the readmore in the middle. of the 2x01 evaluation#because. it was long. and i don't want the post to look so long on dashes#so please reblog it u guys <3#i really loved all the replies on my s1 evaluation#i really hope y'all like this one too :(#if u think i am funny please tell me uwu#i love. to read tags#and asks and replies hehe#anyway have fun!
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proud ~ cillian murphy
word count: 2015
request?: yes!
@shady80smusicsingercolor “The reader was always tried to get them proud,but nothing,one day the reader remembers their parents how they were never supportive or proud,the reader cried, cillian was passing by their dressing room,he stop cuz he heard the faithful tears,he came in,he ask what's wrong,and the reader explain how their parents never were proud of them but their siblings yeah,and ask him"what's wrong with me"and cillian reassures the reader nothing wrong with them but with their parents yeah,he told the reader he was Damm proud of them”
description: when you’re reminded of your rough childhood, your co-star is there to lift you up when you’re feeling down
pairing: cillian murphy x female!reader
warnings: swearing, angst
masterlist
You were in the middle of taking a picture of yourself in your costume when your phone buzzed. A notification at the top of the screen read that you had you were tagged in a post on Facebook, by your mum.
You cringed, immediately knowing what it would be.
A picture of your mum, dad, and sister sat around a table at a restaurant popped up on your screen. The caption for it read, “A special dinner for our beautiful daughter, who just scored another win on a case!” As per usual, she had tagged your dad, your sister, and you. Not because they wished you were there, but to remind you of your sister’s accomplishments and their pride in them.
Your parents made it very clear at a young age that your sister was the favourite child. They had a vision for the future of their kids, one that included a high paying job and eventually a family, and your sister was the one to follow this vision, in their eyes anyways.
Your sister was a straight A student all throughout her school years, and was accepted into law school with a full scholarship right out of high school. You, on the other hand, found yourself falling in love with acting. You were in drama club all through school and often starred in the school plays and musicals. When you graduated high school you were accepted into one of the biggest art schools, and of course you went.
Your parents were less than enthusiastic about your path, even after your acting career took off. They viewed acting as not being a “real job” and often ridiculed you, comparing you to your sister or reminding you of your sister’s accomplishments at every opportunity.
You took a deep breath to calm yourself. You had to remind yourself that just because your parents weren’t proud of you didn’t mean you should be so hard on yourself. You had a successful career, you were happy as an actress. You weren’t going to let them bring you down.
You went to the family group chat to send a congratulatory message to your sister, one that your parents would see and realize they weren’t going to get to you this time.
“Congrats on your case win sis!”
Your sister responded a moment later, “Thanks sis! you're fantastic on Peaky Blinders! I can’t wait until the next season!”
The text gave you a brief moment of happiness. You and your sister never had bad blood. You both understood that you took your own paths and there was no reason to give in to your parents patronizing.
The happiness faded when another message came, this time from your mum, “Did your sister tell you she was seeing someone? It’s pretty serious, we might have our first son in law soon.”
You tossed your phone to the floor and buried your head in your hands. Of course they were going to start taking jabs at your love life now. Now that your sister had a serious boyfriend they had something else to belittle you about.
You were trying to hold back your tear when a knock came at your dressing room door. You sighed and swallowed the lump in your throat. “Come in!”
Your co-star, Cillian, opened the door. You looked at him through your vanity mirror. “We’re about to start filming soon, are you ready?”
You nodded. “Yeah, just give me a minute and I’ll be out.”
“Are you okay?”
Being asked if you were okay when you were on the verge of tears was always the worst question. You had to look down so Cillian didn’t see the tears forming in your eyes.
“I’m fine,” you replied. “Tell everyone I’ll be out soon.”
Cillian crossed the room to sit next to you. You kept looking down at the vanity’s desk.
“For an actress, you’re not the best at acting like you’re okay,” he teased, causing you to laugh. “What’s wrong? And don’t say it’s nothing because you know I’ll force you to tell me.”
You knew there was no use in lying. Cillian knew you better than most people, he’d know you weren’t telling the truth.
You picked up your phone and passed it to Cillian, allowing him to read the most recent messages. His eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. “I don’t get it, what does her love life have to do with either of your jobs? And why would your mum make a comment about him being a future son in law? Your sister even told her that she’s only been seeing the guy for six months.”
“Exactly!” you snapped. “It has nothing to do with the conversation, my mum just wants to tell me she has a new reason to ridicule me. I don’t have a real job, I haven’t had a serious relationship, I’m nowhere near having a kid or being married. But my sister, oh she’s the star child - a lawyer, has a boyfriend now, will probably give my parents their first grandchild.”
You buried your head in your hands again, finally allowing the tears to start flowing freely. You knew the makeup artist was going to be pissed, but you could care less at that moment. You couldn’t leave this frustration to build up while you were filming, it would just guarantee that you'd fuck up the scene and feel even worse.
Cillian took you into his arms, resting his head against yours as he ran a hand soothingly over your body.
“It’s alright,” he said. “It’s alright, let it all out.”
You felt comfortable in his arms, like it was the best place to be, and honestly, it was. Cillian was your closest friend on set of Peaky Blinders, probably your closest friend all together. There were many a times when he would hold you like this, whether it was a friendly hug, a scene on set, an idle gesture when the two of you were hanging out together. Being in Cillian’s arms was so soothing, it was exactly what you needed.
You finally pulled away and looked at yourself in the mirror. Luckily enough, since you were filming a show that was taking place in the early 1900s you didn’t have to wear too much makeup, mainly mascara and enough foundation that you didn’t look shiny on screen. The makeup artist on set had given you waterproof mascara, which again was lucky for you, but your foundation, however, was ruined from water streaks running down your cheeks.
You grabbed a makeup wipe from your vanity and began wiping the foundation from your face. You had foundation in your dressing room for moments like this, so that you could fix your makeup before scenes so no one would realize you were so upset.
“I get that they may not have viewed acting as a possible job back when I was in high school,” you said as you fixed your makeup, “but I’ve made an actual career from it. I’ve been in countless shows and movies, I’ve been nominated for awards and even won countless ones, and they can’t accept that. They can’t be proud of me for making a name for myself in my own way. They’ve never been proud of me. What’s wrong with me?”
“Nothing!” Cillian told you. “Nothing is wrong with you. You’re an absolutely amazing person, and you’re so talented and amazing. Just because you chose a different path from your sister and because you’re not following in their footsteps or the path that your parents wanted you to take doesn’t mean that there’s something wrong with you. There’s something wrong with your parents, they’re the assholes here.”
You sighed and shook your head, putting the foundation away. “This thing with my sister having a boyfriend is what’s really gonna start getting to me, I already know that. Being an actress I don't really have the time for a relationship, and I haven’t found a genuine guy that I want to be with because so many Hollywood guys are fake assholes who want to date you for their own professional gain. By the time I find someone to be with, my sister will probably be engaged with a child along the way and my parents will never let me live that down.”
As you spoke, Cillian was listening intently, until you got to the end of your rant. That’s when he cupped your face in his hands and pulled you towards him, pressing his lips to you. The gesture shocked you at first and you almost jerked your head away, but, just like being in his arms, kissing Cillian just felt so right. You relaxed into the kiss, cupping his face as well to hold him close.
He pulled away after a brief moment, smiling at you as he did so. “Am I one of those asshole famous people do you think?”
You giggled. “Oh God no, you’re the nicest person I’ve ever met.”
“Well then, this nice person thinks you’re the most amazing person he has ever met, and that your parents couldn’t be more wrong in the way that they treat you. And this nice person wants to take you out on a date when we’re finished with filming today.”
You smiled brightly. “I would love to go out after filming today. But to do that, we should get to filming.”
Realization passed Cillian’s face. “Shit, you’re right. Let’s go.”
“I’ll be there in a minute,” you said as Cillian stood. “You go and tell them I’m sorry I’m late but it’s family issues.”
Cillian nodded, leaning down to kiss you once more, before leaving the room.
You took your phone in your hand and checked the family chat to see that the last message was from your sister, explaining to you that her and her boyfriend hadn’t even been together for long and chastising your mother for her message. You took a deep breath and began to type out one final text message.
“I’m really happy for your relationship, sis, and I’d love to meet him, but this is my final message in this groupchat. I’ll be leaving the chat and taking mom and dad off of Facebook. I also probably won’t even tell you guys when I’m visiting home since you’ve made it clear that you don’t even want to see me. I know that I haven’t conformed to your beliefs of “success”, but I love where I’ve gone in life and I’m happy with my career. I’ve been in countless TV shows and movies and I’ve won awards for those things. I love my job, and I wouldn’t change that for the world. As for my love life, if either of you ever cared enough to check in on me instead of flaunting (Y/S/N)’s accomplishments in my face you’d know that I too am seeing someone. Too bad you’ve officially burned all bridges and won’t be meeting him now, but what can you do? Feel free to call if you ever decide to be proud of your youngest daughter for where she is in life and not just for your oldest because she followed the life that you tried to force upon us (I love you sis, don’t take this as an insult)”
After hitting send, you left the chat and promptly blocked both of your parents on Facebook. You took a deep breath and sighed heavily. It felt like a weight had been taken off of your shoulders then.
You inspected your makeup in the mirror to make sure it looked fine before getting up and finally walking to set. The rest of your co-stars were gathered, waiting, when you finally arrived.
“Sorry I’m late,” you told them. “Family stuff. I’m ready to go if you guys are.”
Everyone started getting in place. As the camera was being set up, Cillian looked at you with a little concern on his face. “Everything alright?”
You smiled at him, suddenly feeling more confident than you ever had. “I feel great. Let’s kill this scene.”
#cillian murphy#cillian murphy imagine#cillian murphy x reader#peaky blinders#imagine#one shot#request
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Just Friends| Part Four
A Timothée Chalamet Imagine: Part One| Part Two| Part Three Part Five
Female!Reader, Dancer/Actress!Reader, CoStar!Reader, FrenchSpeaking!Reader//A whole 4,679 Words
Summary of part one, two, and three// Reader and Timothée are best friends. They are going to be costars on a new movie where Y/n plays a dancer and has a small, but still important, role, and Timothée’s a lead. There’s a storm and Y/n’s hotel is having issues, so she has to stay in Timothée’s apartment. She stays with him really realizes she likes him, then he starts dating Lily, asks to go out to dinner so you can all meet her.
Warnings// Grammar/spelling and lack of proofreading. angst then FLUFF, alcohol, lots of cursing
Key: French writing (english translation), Y/n/n-Your nickname, Y/f/n-Your first name, Y/l/n-Your last name
(Added July 2020) Note: this whole series was written before Ansel Elgort’s allegations arose, and honestly, in the most disrespectful way possible: I hope he rots in hell. I ALWAYS stand with the victim, and if that’s going to be a problem, find another series to read. If the mention of his name is triggering to you, PLEASE do not read. If you or anyone you know has been sexually assaulted or abused, do not be afraid to speak up, but if that’s not the route you personally want to take: you can call 1-800-656-4673, available 24 hours every day and 100% confidential.
Not my gif: also...we’re pretending Lily has a younger sister for this because I wrote it without even looking that up, I don’t know if she has any siblings...also I copied the Giselle summary from a website online :)
The restaurant was gorgeous, but to be honest, not exactly your scene. You’d always known how to get yourself through high profile dinners, at this point they’d become a cake-walk for you, but this was different. You’d be less nervous if you were out to dinner with Queen Elizabeth than you were right now. Your eyes drifted back to the table, a circle booth, of course a circle booth. There’s nothing wrong with circle booths, everything was just bothering you right now, especially her. She looked so pretty, effortlessly pretty, I mean she was a model. Lily Rose-Depp, one of the most gorgeous girls you’d ever seen, she sat comfortably next to Timothée, grabbing his hand and squeezing it as they chatted. And him? He looked, well, happy as her pale pink painted fingernails grazed his skin, if only she knew how much he hated the color pink. Zendaya rested her hands on your shoulders, bring you out of your daze.
“Stop staring, let’s go sit, make conversation, I swear we’ll get you out of here as quick as we can,” she rubbed your shoulders before shaking your body a little bit, “come onnnn.”
“Fuck this, I need a manicure,” you muttered as you walked over with her. Zendaya took the opportunity to approach Timothée first so you didn’t have to. That gave you the pleasant task of being the first to greet Lily. She had the biggest smile on her face. She walked towards you and smiled, her eyes were brown, but soft like honey, and her smile was enough to light up the dimly lit room. You put on your best fake smile possible and pulled her in for a hug.
“It is so nice to finally meet you, I love your dress.” fuck she gives great hugs. Her voice was soft, kind of firm, but gentle and sweet nonetheless. She had the slightest tint of a French accent, probably from being in Paris, you’d forgotten she was part French as well, realizing how much that must’ve added to the bond she had with Timothée.
“Thank you beautiful, it’s nice to meet you too, I can’t believe we didn’t run into each other in Paris,” you pulled away from her hug, keeping your hands rested on her lower shoulders.
“Aw, that would’ve been so fun, we should do something together soon,” and not only is she a good hugger, she’s nice too, and not fake nice, actually nice.
“Yes, that would be lovely,” you walked away from her to approach Timothée, having calmed yourself down enough to approach him after at least learning Lily wasn’t a blood-sucking shell of a person. You met his eyes and he pulled you in for a warm hug.
“I missed you,” you knew he didn’t mean it like you wished he did, but it didn’t stop your breath from hitching in your throat, and it definitely didn’t stop the ache in your heart from how much you missed having his arms around you, “Thank you for agreeing to this, I know how much you hate these dinners,” you thought back to the night you’d agreed to watching a horror movie with him, Z, and Ansel even though you absolutely hated them, he held you while you squealed and blocked your eyes during the worst part. You hated yourself for how bad you wanted to go back to that moment, how bad you wished Lily wasn’t here right now, and how bad you wished it was you holding his hand at the table.
“It’s okay, I wanted to come.” He raised his eyebrows at you, no matter how good of a liar you were, he could see right through you, “Non, je l'ai vraiment fait, (no, I really did,) I wanted to meet her,” at least that wasn’t completely a lie, you did want to meet her, you wanted meet her and you wanted to hate her. Zendaya and Ansel gave them hugs as well and you sat down, Ansel sat in the center next to Lily, Zendaya next to him, and Timothée on the outer edge, that left you on the opposite outer edge, right across from him. Fuck me you silently cursed yourself.
The waitress came over and asked what you’d like to drink, Ansel ordered wine for the table. You nudged the waitress over, whispering to her to only give you virgin drinks, not caring that she’d probably assume you were pregnant. You were too scared what you might say if your inhibitions went down, even though all you wanted was to black out in this moment. You chatted for a while, keeping yourself poised as you spoke. Lily was easy to talk to, she was nice, smart, and of course she had a great sense of humor, not to mention her laugh sounded like the ring of a million adorable little bells. You felt surprisingly comfortable after a while, your fake smile even sometimes morphing into a real one. Maybe it was just the numbing feeling that came along with your attempt to avoid eye contact from Timothée as much as you could. You talked about Paris, and the movie, you asked Lily about her movies and modeling, and she did the same for you, but you still winced a little every time Timothée’s arm brushed up against hers.
“So, what have I missed in the past week?” Timothée asked taking a drink out of his glass.
“Y/n has news.” Ansel nudged you and you shot him daggers.
“News?” Timothée asked as he turned his gaze from Lily to you.
“Um...,” you sighed, taking another sip of your glass, realizing you were in deep shit now, “the American Ballet is doing Giselle,” you looked down at the ground, “and they want...me.” You smiled, of course you were happy about this opportunity, thrilled actually, but other stuff, him and Lily, got in the way of you celebrating. Sleeping Beauty was great, and you felt so incredibly lucky to get that opportunity, but Giselle was your dream role, not to mention Giselle was a tad more high-profile than Sleeping Beauty, and you’d get to work with a couple of your friends from college.
“For. Giselle.” Z added and you kicked her under the table. Timothée’s jaw was practically on the floor.
“I didn’t even know you auditioned?” you made eye contact with him for the first time since he hugged you earlier in the evening.
“Leighton reached out, said they were drafting their cast list and wanted me to come in for a private audition, it all happened really fast,”
“Don’t be offended, she didn’t even tell us until this morning.” Ansel said as he took a sip out of his glass and you made a mental note to strangle him once the night was over.
“This morning! How could you not call me the moment you found out?”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it slipped my mind, I swear,” it didn’t “slip your mind”, but that was easier to say then telling him you were about to call him when you spotted a magazine with a picture of him and Lily playing tongue hockey, so instead of calling him you cried for forty-five minutes.
“That’s incredible Y/n, I’ve heard so much about the production, but I’ve never seen it, what’s the story again?” Lily seemed so genuinely interested in you, throwing you off a bit at her kindness.
“Um..., well the short, but official, version is, on an autumn day, a peasant girl named Giselle – who loves to dance but suffers from a weak heart condition – is pursued by Albrecht, the Count of Silesia; she is unaware of his noble status as he disguises himself as a peasant. She initially denies his advances but upon plucking the petals of a daisy, his love for her is confirmed. The gamekeeper Hilarion is suspicious of Albrecht and tries to warn Giselle, with whom he is also in love. She ignores his warnings while he continues to investigate. The villagers are visited by the Duke of Courland and his daughter Bathilde who is betrothed to Albrecht. When it is realized that both young ladies are engaged to the same man and that indeed Albrecth is a nobleman, Giselle is heartbroken. She attempts to kill herself with Albrecht’s sword but upon failing, goes mad. This frenzy of despair is too much for the girl’s heart and she dies...” Lily, Ansel, and Z just stared at you, stunned, you just laughed and sipped your drink, “I’ve had it memorized since fifth grade...”
“A woman of many talents,” Lily nodded in your direction, and you smiled back at her, “you know, I can barely walk in heels, I just don’t have the balance for it, so I can’t imagine doing what you do.”
“Well, we’ve all had to carry her up to her apartment at some point,” Ansel spoke through a laugh.
“I have bruised toes...” you playfully frowned.
“I’m sorry, I’m still pissed you didn’t tell me. I am never, ever, letting you off the hook for this...” Timothée interjected with a laugh, then he turned to Lily and lightly put his arm around her, “oh yeah and where are you hearing about the American Ballet?” You missed his laugh, a week, it was a week without him, and you really missed his laugh, but you couldn’t deny how broken you felt in this moment. You’d rather he stayed in Paris with Lily forever than to sit at a table with them right now, and you know what? It wasn’t even Lily. She was an angel, so easy to talk to. Honestly if you’d met her before she was with him, you’d probably be best friends. The real problem was with Timothée. He gave you these feelings. Feelings that came from watching him with her. The feeling it gave you to see them together, the feeling you got when you saw how well they got along, and how fucking hard seeing them together made you want to hate her, but you couldn’t. You also couldn’t blame her for being with Timothée. Your feelings for him were another thing the two of you had in common.
“Bree.” She leaned into him as she answered his question. Timothée let out a little “ah” as he understood her. She turned back to face you, “My little sister’s a dancer and actually when I told her I was meeting you, Y/n, she freaked out. She’s gonna die when she finds out about this, Giselle’s her favorite production,” your heart hurt. God, you couldn’t believe how much you liked Lily.
“When tickets come out, I can probably get her backstage passes, I’d love to meet her,” word vomit. It was all word vomit. Everything you said, word vomit, yes you were more than willing to meet her little sister, but you felt yourself wanting her to like you.
“My god, she’d lose her mind if she ever saw you in person.” she giggled, leaning herself comfortably in his arms, your favorite place to be.
The night went by pretty fast, you ordered the lightest thing you could find on the menu, in fear of throwing up all over Lily--now that would’ve been a great first impression. Zendaya subtly convinced everyone out of dessert so you could get out of there. At the end of the night she excused herself to the bathroom, Lily going with her--which was good, you wanted them to be friends, you weren’t sure why, but you did--and Ansel went to call in the car service and check your coats, Timothée asked you to stay, leaving you alone next to each other at the table.
“So?” He smiled at you.
“So what?” You smiled back.
“What do you mean so what? What do you think of her?” This could’ve been your opportunity, part of you knew that if you didn’t approve, Timothée wouldn’t keep dating her. However, you’d practically lied to him all night, so you might as well give him one truth.
“I like her T, she’s a good one,” you stared at your drink, avoiding his eyes.
“Good, she was nervous to meet you, ” you looked back up at him, but for only a second, he looked pleased, relieved to have your little stamp of approval.
“I really want her to like me, I hope she does,” you downed your drink, before remembering it didn’t have any alcohol.
“She does, everyone likes you,” not. everyone. not the people that matter, not you. And on that note, Lily and Zendaya came back to the table, and Ansel returned with your coats, saved by the bell, you stood up almost instantly.
“Well, we better get going,” Timothée gave you all a quick hug, Lily doing the same.
“I’m gonna follow up with you on those tickets, I’ll tell Timothée to send you my number.” Lily gave you an appreciative smile, and you could tell she meant it, she was happy you were wiling to do something nice for her, and you felt as if you owed it to her. As if that could be your way of making up for the terrible image you painted of her in your brain before you met.
“Will do,” Timothée lightly placed his hand on your back. You reacted instantly, taking in a quick breath as you flinched a little bit and stiffened under his touch, “you okay?” he asked, obviously noticing your lack of comfort, which had never existed with him until tonight, but Z, being her great self, quickly grabbed your arm, pulling you a little in her direction.
“Looks like our car is here, we should really get going too, early day tomorrow.” She grabbed your coat from Ansel and laid it across your shoulders, “It was lovely meeting you.” She squeezed Lily’s hand before pulling you with her towards the door. You walked a little bit before relaxing your shoulders.
“I owe you the world and more,” you hugged Z from the side, relieved to be out of there.
“I told you it wouldn’t be that bad,” Ansel said. You nodded, knowing he was right, but you would’ve rather been literally anywhere else in that moment.
“Yeah, let’s just go get you drunk, we’re going back to my apartment,” Zendaya said as the car pulled up to the restaurant, and the driver opened the door to the car.
“That sounds like the best idea I’ve heard all night.” Ansel spoke and you laid your head on his shoulder as he did.
“No, no, I just think I should go home and go to sleep,” you weren’t exactly feeling up for a fun night at this point.
“It’s either you go home and get drunk, cry yourself to sleep, and wake up with a terrible hangover to deal with yourself, or you come over, get drunk with your best friends, watch a shitty movie, and then have a hangover king to walk you home in the morning,” she motioned to Ansel, and she was right, he’d never had a headache after drinking in his life. So, you caved, you drank as much as you could, and woke up in the morning with a terrible headache, per usual, in desperate need of food. You put some of the concealer in your purse and Ansel promised he’d take you out to breakfast.
You were walking down the street with him when you were bombarded by paparazzi, half for you, half for him. They questioned him about his music and movies, and they questioned you about movies and Giselle rumors, you answered politely, ignoring your pounding head from last night. But of course, they had to ask you about him.
“Y/n, you must be pretty upset I assume?” A man asked you, while shoving a camera in your face. You kept a smile, not really knowing where this particular question was going, your journalism skills and instincts both failing to prep you at the same time.
“And why would you think that?” You laughed, not sure why you’d be upset over being the lead in your favorite ballet.
“Well, Timothée has a new girlfriend, thought that might bother you a little bit?” You kept your smile, but gritted your teeth together, walking a little faster as Ansel started to pick up on what was going on, quickening his pace as well.
“And why would that bother me?” You turned to make eye contact, testing him.
“C’mon Y/n, everyone knows you and Timothée have a special friendship.” You stopped in your tracks, and the paparazzi stopped with you.
“Jason, is it?” you motioned to the name-tag he had on his black shirt. A name-tag? Tacky, made you sick, “I have a question for you as well. Why am I being asked about a relationship involving two different people, a relationship separate from my life, a relationship that doesn’t involve me, at all? Timothée and I are good friends, nothing more. He and Lily are very happy together as far as I know, and no matter how close I am to Timothée, the ins and outs of his relationship are none of my business.” You gave him one last smile, and kept walking. After a couple steps the press backed off and Ansel playfully nudged your shoulder with his.
“Badass, Y/n, badass,” he nodded as you approached the restaurant you were headed towards.
“Too bad it’s only half true,” your smile faded for a second, before another one came on your face. You let out a loud laugh.
“What? What’s so fucking funny?”
“Kelsey’s gonna slit my throat.” you walked up to the hostess and told her table for two.
The next couple of weeks consisted of two things: training and avoiding Timothée’s calls. You’d become good at it too, not the training, you were always good at that, but at avoiding his calls. It was simple really, you’d let your phone ring, and then there were two options. He’d always leave a voicemail, with something about what he was about to go do, and if it was something you knew he wouldn’t have access to his phone during, you’d call him back a little after, making up some shitty excuse and asking him to call you back later, the other option was to completely ignore the call and return it during an hour he wouldn’t be awake or would be working. And if he got creative and called Z while you were with her, you’d immediately excuse yourself. As for hanging out with him, you’d been able to get around it well, holing yourself up in your apartment when they’d hang out, but of course, to seem alright, you’d comment sweet things on him and Lily’s posts. You were weirdly incredible at this.
It had been a month and a half of this tactic when he called you again. He left a voicemail, saying he was on his way to a photoshoot in a little bit, but wondered if you wanted to get coffee first. You waited until five minutes after the phone stopped ringing to give him a call back. Please don’t pick up, please don’t pick up, please don’t pick up. You let out a sigh of relief as it went to voicemail.
“Hey, T, sorry we keep missing each other, I actually can’t go out right now, I’m not home. Send Lily my love,” there was a knock at the door of your apartment, you made your way over to the door as you ended your message, “I’ll talk to you later, bye.”
You opened the door. It was Timothée, resting in your doorway. He was holding up his phone and he started to play your voicemail. You were shocked, and your eyes clearly reflected it.
“You’ve been avoiding me.” he didn’t look mad, in fact, he didn’t have much of an expression on his face, which was scarier than if he did.
“I...,” he cut you off.
“Can I at least come in?” He put his phone in his pocket, you motioned for him to come in to your apartment. He didn’t sit down, he just looked at you, silently asking you to explain yourself. You looked down at your feet and played with your fingers, not sure what to do with your hands. The silence was deafening, and he knew how much you hated confrontation.
“I...I have been avoiding you,” you broke the unbearable silence.
“No shit, Y/n, but why?” he looked at you, anything you’d say right now would probably just upset him more, “Is it Lily? Did something happen? If you don’t like her you can tell me, because it’s fucking insane that you and Z were able to go out to a friendly little lunch with her, but you can’t even answer my calls.” He was right, you did go out to lunch with them the other day, to be fair you tried to get out of it, but you couldn’t, a rookie mistake.
“Lily’s great, T, she’s really nice” you said quietly.
“But...?”
“That’s the problem, there is no but,”
“Then I don’t get it. What’s the issue? What happened?” He looked worried, worried she did something, but more worried he might’ve done something.
“Timothée, even if our relationship is platonic-”
“If...?” your eyes snapped up, then back to the floor. shit. Your face went red.
“Just um...just let me finish,” you had no idea how you were gonna get yourself out of that one, but he nodded and let you continue, “Can you imagine how much it would hurt her to see you with your arm around me, I still wanna be your best friend, and of course I still want to hang out with you, and I am sorry for avoiding you, but I need you to understand that me avoiding you really shouldn’t be an issue. There is nothing wrong with your girlfriend being your first priority, that’s how it should be, she should be your best friend,”
“Y/n,” he walked towards you, but you backed up until you were far enough away from him to not trip over your words. You raised up your hands, and he stopped in his tracks.
“...and I’m not trying to tell you how to have a relationship, but I know how it feels to see the one guy you wanna be with around another girl. I couldn’t live with myself if I knew I was making her feel that same feeling, because really T, she’s the person your arm should be around, no matter how touchy of people we are or how little touchy she might be, you should be holding her at night, not me.” You looked up, realizing you hadn’t really looked at him this whole time, well you did, look, but you hadn’t noticed. Noticed what he was wearing: a white t-shirt and black jeans, something you’ve seen him in a million times, but never seized to create butterflies in your stomach, but what you really noticed, was his smile, nor the fact that he was, smiling. Standing there smiling with his hands in his pockets. He was giving you a look. You thought you knew all his looks, but this one was different. He was smiling, but not his normal, cute, sweet, smile. It was more of a “you have no idea what I’m thinking” smile.
“We broke up.” Three words, the last three words you could’ve possibly imagined coming out of his mouth, your eyes widened in reaction.
“You what?” Your jaw was basically on the ground.
“I went over to her apartment, all ready to break up with her, and then before I got the chance,” he was still walking towards you, backing you up even more, “she told me she got offered a huge eighteen-month modeling gig in Bay of Kotor,” he started to walk towards you, you got the urge to back up, but you were, figuratively and literally, up against a wall, “that’s in Montenegro, a country in south-eastern Europe, but anyway she told me if she was staying in New York it would be a different story, but she doesn’t do long distance. Then she said something about a connection not really being there, which I agree with,” his body was only inches away from you now, “but like you said, that’s the problem, I couldn’t put my finger on what was wrong with her, because you’re right: she was great. And then, while you were busy avoiding my calls, it came to me...”
“What, um,” you swallowed, trying to force down the lump in your throat as you struggled to get words out. His face was so close, just like the night you fell asleep on his chest in Paris. When you woke you found yourself looking into his eyes, and all you wanted to do was close the space between your lips, “What came to you?”
“The problem was that,” he pulled a piece of your hair out of your face, “she’s not you,” you couldn’t believe his words. He rested the piece of hair behind your ear so he could place his hand on your jaw, causing you to take in a deep breath, “Détends-toi,” (relax) he looked into your eyes, then your lips once again before finally closing the gap between yours and his. You melted into the kiss as all the emotions you’d had since the night you met him at the premiere came back, making you wish you kissed him the second you met him. His lips were soft, just like you’d imagined so many times, except now you didn’t have to push the feeling away, it was right in front of you, and it wasn’t going anywhere. He placed his other hand on your waist as his tongue swiped over your lower lip, silently asking for entrance. You obliged, letting your hands fall along his neck, one hand running your fingers through his soft curls. The wall he had you pressed up against was cold, but luckily both of your bodies were radiating heat. He was a good kisser, you knew he’d be a good kisser. You’d seen Call Me By Your Name and you’d seen Hot Summer Nights, but it was different in the way he was gentle, so delicate as if he might break you, but still firm enough to make your knees weaken. He came up for air, resting his hand on your waist to meet the other one, placing his forehead against yours, pausing for a second to take in what just happened. A year of disregarded emotion pressed into one moment. You could feel his breath on your swollen lips, opening your eyes to meet his. You had the biggest smile possible plastered on your face, letting out a little laugh.
“What?” He laughed with you, smiling just as big as you were.
“It took you a year and a girl to realize how I felt about you? You’re supposed to be smart, T,”
“Shut up,” he smiled into another kiss, pulling you up against him once again. You felt his phone ring against your hip, but he ignored it.
“You should probably get that.” You pulled away.
“Nope, not important,” he said between kisses, you pulled away again, urging him to at least check who it was. He reached in his pocket pulling it out, “it’s Celine,” he sighed, then checked the time, “probably because I am going to be late for my photoshoot.” You leaned up off the wall and starting walking him to the door as he gave you another quick kiss, “I’m calling you the second we get done,” he whispered up against your lips, your face broke out into another smile.
“Yeah, yeah, maybe I’ll pick up this time, get out of here,” He rolled his eyes as you shut the door. You leaned up against it and slid down the doorframe.
Then you dialed Z’s number in your phone, she picked up almost instantly, “You aren’t going to believe what just happened.”
YAYYYY THEY KISSED WOOOOO!!!!!!!!! we have two options: continue it, and create more of a story, or leave it at them together. Up to you guys!! let me know, and thanks for all the love on this series!!!!
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@sspidermanss @fandom-food-fire @gigi-maria-argu @meaganl124 @danidomm @ewistel @booklover240 @daygiowvibe @spiderdudetom @tom-hollond @ilsolee @iidontgiveafuckuniverse @plsdontfindthisblogpeople @antoouu @xahnah @ethevenly @doobdabdib @ahoyparkwr @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch
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『 Haikyuu!! Week 2020 | Day 6 』
· Sept. 30th → We Don’t Need Things Like Memories ·
Characters: female!reader, Sawamura Daichi, Sugawara Koushi, Kuroo Testurou, Ushijima Wakatoshi, Oikawa Tooru
Prompts: B. beginnings and endings
Tags/warnings: Haikyuu!! (anime), PG, fluff, some serious angst, beginnings and endings, headcanons, HaikyuuWeek2020
A/N: I thought I'd just go ahead and rip my own heart out by writing these headcanons about what some of the Haikyuu boys are like when the relationship starts out (beginnings) and what they're like when you break up (endings). I mean, why not? Fluff, angst, emotional pain and suffering? I may as well 🙃
All of my Haikyuu Week 2020 posts are SFW, but I write NSFW stuff on my blog too *wiggles eyebrows* Feel free to take a look! Thanks for reading 🙏 Please enjoy ♡
Haikyuu × reader / beginnings and endings
☆ Sawamura Daichi ☆
Beginnings
You probably confess to him first
He's a bit dense when it comes to picking up on the signs. He tends to get his hopes up and then brush it off as friendliness
'She just likes you as a friend, Daichi. Stop reading into it' *entire theatre of people smack their foreheads in unison*
He's dumbfounded for a second or two, processing what you just told him
Then he asks you out. No hesitation, no shyness, no awkwardness. Just pure, confident Daichi
He's literally living on cloud nine for the next few weeks because, holy shit, he's dating you
Has the biggest smile on his face whenever you're out together
And he's very protective, but not in an overbearing way
Sometimes, he places his hand on your thigh while he's driving and slowly strokes this thumb over the soft skin
And he gets all adorably bashful when he has to keep introducing you to people as his girlfriend!!
There's literally nothing he wouldn't do for you, and that's coming from a cop
Endings
When you tell him you want to break up, he hears it over and over in his head like a broken record
He keeps asking himself how this happened, and he wants to beg you to change your mind
But he respects your decision. He won't keep an immature grudge or start yelling. He just regrets
With a small, fake smile, he says he's actually been thinking the same recently
l i a r
All because he doesn't want you to feel bad or awkward about leaving him behind
Daichi's civil when you come to collect your things from his place, and when he sees you out with some other guy, even though his heart is literally cracking inside his chest
He blames himself, of course. He should have done more to keep you. He should have made more time for you. He should have stayed as loving and attentive as he was at the beginning
But he got comfortable. Complacent. And he started taking you for granted
Oh, the stinging irony of hindsight
☆ Sugawara Koushi ☆
Beginnings
He approached you at a café with a bashful smile and a hesitant hand behind his head, and asked you for your number
A few weeks of texting, sexting, and casual encounters later, you went official
He couldn't be a better boyfriend. He's always so kind, and attentive, and loving, and cute
He covers the bed in rose petals on special occasions like an absolute sweetheart
He loves buying couple's items: shirts, bracelets, mugs, necklaces – you name it. He's old-school cringy like that
He showers you with kisses, praises the hell out of you, and can't stop asking how he got so damn lucky to be with you
He gives the softest hugs, the most sensual kisses
When he snaps a new photo of you, he sets it to his lockscreen so he can stare at you even when you're not there
He innocently kisses your nose in public, only to grab a handful of your ass for a second or two, below the level of everyone's eyes
You always loved it when he did that
Endings
There's a pit in his stomach when the words pass your lips, and a voice in the back of his head telling him 'Oh. Right. Of course. You knew this would happen. You were never really good enough for her, anyway'
He has to fight back the tears because he refuses to cry in front of you
It's a painful, stinging acceptance that laces his mind and tongue. It never really would have worked. Would it?
When you leave, Suga attempts to go about his regualr routine. To be fine
But his hand is shaking uncontrollably and he drops the mug in his hand, and watches as it smashes into pieces on the kitchen floor
You bought him that mug. And that, of all things, is the one to break him
The tears come over him in weak, silent sobs as he doubles-over the sink, his throat too constricted to allow any sound to escape
He cries so hard that he throws up in the sink
The weeks pass, melt away into months, and he's doing better. Doing well
Until he comes across an old shirt you left behind and never came back for, and the memories all come flooding back
That night, he cries himself hoarse, until he can't feel his face
No matter how hard he tries, he can't forget you. Your nails are dug into him even now, holding him down in his misery
☆ Kuroo Testurou ☆
Beginnings
He asked you out with some cheesy pickup line, something that made you groan and grin at the same time
He couldn't believe his luck when it worked
He tries to take things slowly, be reasonable. But all that caves in when you melt him with that smile of yours
You quickly become the centre of his world
He sends you flowers and chocolates to your work, just so you know he's thinking about you
He'll kiss your hands when you're cuddling together on the sofa, like an old married couple
He constantly texts you to make sure you're okay, sometimes sexting you to demonstrate just how much he's thinking about you
He takes his time and explains things about science that you don't get, just so you don't feel left out
When a guy's been looking at you too much, he grabs you by the waist and pulls you in for a messy kiss, his hands working their way down to your ass
For your sixth month anniversary, he surprises you with a cockapoo to raise together, and suggests the name Furby, for some reason it sticks
He somehow always makes time to walk through the park and look at the cherry blossoms with you, even though he's really busy
He dances with you down the vegetable aisle at the grocery store just because, and couldn't care less about the people watching
He's constantly trying to make you laugh with the dorkiest things, because he thinks that's when you're at your prettiest
He would do anything to keep seeing that smile every day
Endings
You tell him he's moving too fast
He's in denial. He tells you he understands, but he doesn't
You leave the dog with him. And he knows it's unfair, but Furby reminds him of you
But he's lucky he still has the dog, because it's the only thing that keeps him going normally
As the weeks pass, he tries to leave you be and give you your space like he promised, but he just can't. His heart won't let him
It's 11:00 pm and he's knocking on your door, begging for you to open up and talk to him. To give him a another chance. To reconsider
He can hear you quietly sobbing on the other side of the door, and he knows you're second-guessing your decision, maybe even regretting it
It gives him hope that, if he doesn't give up, you'll come back to him, because it hasn't been the same without you
He hears your favourite song on the radio and has to sit down on the floor of the vegetable aisle at the supermarket before his legs give out
He sees your favourite restaurant and he can't pass without ordering a meal and crying into his food
He goes looking for fights with assholes at the gas station so he can let off some steam, and doesn't care if he spends the night in a cell with a black eye and bleeding knuckles
He hasn't been thinking straight, he doesn't care what happens to him anymore
And the crazy thing is, he'd still do anything for you, because you're the first real love of his life, and he can't forget you
He won't give up on you. It isn't in his blood
☆ Ushijima Wakatoshi ☆
Beginnings
Ushijima never really knew what to do when you expressed an interest in him
You only started going out because Tendou read between the lines and made things happen
So now that you're finally together, he never really does anything that differently
It's just business as usual...plus you
If you want something from him, you have to ask specifically, or he won't pick up on it, so you have to be proactive in the Netflix and chill department
He actually thinks you just want to watch TV and relax
He's painfully blunt, but without any hidden agenda or meanness about him
And he cannot deny the small, warm glow he feels when you're there for him at his games
But he does try to make you happy
He shares his food whenever you ask, he lets you wear his clothes and thinks it's adorable how they dwarf you, he pats your head when you've done well, and holds you when you're feeling sad
And slowly but surely, he gets accustomed to you being there for him at every turn
And you're happy together, as honest best friends and close lovers
Endings
At first, he doesn't feel anything. It's what you want, so it's fine, right?
He got on just fine before you came along, and he'll do just fine with you gone. And it isn't spiteful, he genuinely believes it
He goes about his regular business, and everything's okay, just the same as it was before you
But as the days pass, it creeps up on him. He doesn't even know what it is as first, this dull, painful ache settling in the middle of his chest
He even Googles the symptoms when the pain gets too strong
It takes seeing you laughing in the arms of another man for him to realise that it's heartache
Crippling, agonising heartache, because he misses you
For the first time in his life, his legs go so weak underneath him that he can barely stand. He has to leave. He can't watch any more
He sits alone in his room, staring at the wall opposite, trying to get his head around it. To try and understand
Because he doesn't. He was fine before you came along. So why now? What had changed?
Ushijima comes to the conclusion that he's changed. And that you changed him
You showed him something he never thought he'd understand, reconstructed the fibres of his nature, made it so he couldn't live without you
And now you're gone
☆ Oikawa Tooru ☆
Beginnings
He was hesitant. He doesn't just let people in. But he can trust you, that's what he keeps telling himself
He hopes it doesn't feel condescending that he chose you over every other girl, and tries desperately to make it apparent just how much he loves you
He makes an effort to show that he cares. He prioritises you, over everyone and everything
Your wish is his command. He wants to be that Prince Charming. That knight in shining armour
He's softer, more fragile, on the inside than you thought he'd be
He needs a lot of reassurance, and loves it when you gently stroke his hair
You share your deepest, darkest secrets, and you realise what a broken, vulnerable boy is in front of you, offering you his heart
But he sure knows how to laugh. His dates are the best. He always knows just where to take you
Those nights when you end up tangled together on the sofa, just listening to each other's heartbeats, are like Elysium to you
Endings
He can't believe what he's hearing. You promised you'd never hurt him
Disbelief, doubt, realisation, confusion anger, sadness – he gets mental whiplash as it all washes over him in a matter of seconds
Tooru punches the wall, leaving a crumbling hole the shape of his fist in the drywall
"YOU PROMISED," he shouts, red hot tears threatening to spilling over his eyes and down his cheeks. "You...promised..." he repeats weakly, sinking to the floor
You go to touch his shoulder, but he shakes you off and tells you to get out
Once you're gone, he breaks down in a sobbing heap on the floor, angry at himself, angry at you, angry at world for making him think he actually had a chance at happiness
He burns whatever you left at his place. He can't stand the sight of it
He tries to get over you by going to party after party, downing bottle after bottle, hooking up with girl after girl – but it's hollow. Empty. Meaningless. Because none of them are you
He convinces himself that that's a good thing, as he stares at the hole in the wall that he refuses to fix
Because if they're not you, they can't hurt him
© imo-chan-imagines 2020
#imo chan imagines#haikyuuweek2020#haikyuu!!#hq!#haikyuu x reader#headcanons#haikyuu headcanons#sawamura daichi#sugawara koushi#kuroo testurou#ushijima wakatoshi#oikawa tooru#sawamura daichi headcanons#sugawara koushi headcanons#kuroo testurou headcanons#ushijima wakatoshi headcanons#oikawa tooru headcanons#sawamura daichi x reader#sugawara koushi x reader#kuroo testurou x reader#ushijima wakatoshi x reader#oikawa tooru x reader#angst#fluff
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title: epiphany
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summary: Fix-it Fic. After Jughead finally came back to life, Betty finds herself thinking about the time she had to live without her boyfriend. She helped fake his death, investigate possible suspects and even pretend to date her best friend, Archie Andrews— who also happened her first love. She went through a lot during the past few weeks, and now that is finally over, her heart can’t stop thinking… What if?
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a/n: okay, this is probably my first time writing a fix-it fic (unfortunately) and I've tried my best to make some justice to our beloved Bughead. If they really wanted to explore any kind of thing Betty might have felt towards Archie while she had to pretend, well… that’s how I would’ve done it. Oh, and needless to say, all that cheating crap didn’t/ won't happen. Hope you like it, and remember, #bugheadforever
Also, this is unbeta’d because I just needed it out of my system.
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‘All I’m saying is…your secret is safe with me.’
It had been almost a week since Cheryl said those words to her, and ever since then, Betty couldn’t seem to keep them off her thoughts. At night, while trying to sleep, she tossed and turned, pushing the covers away as she sighed like a damsel in distress haunted by her own thoughts. Her golden locks were messily splayed across her pillow, and she could only thank the superior forces for Jughead to be sleeping at the bunker that night.
He didn't deserve to be disturbed by her troubled thoughts. He didn’t deserve to lose a single minute of his precious sleep because of her, especially not when the one thing keeping her eyes open was actually asleep one window away.
Archie Andrews. Her best friend. Her first love and the one who pretended to be her boyfriend so people would believe that her real boyfriend was actually dead. They’ve spent a couple of days holding hands, sharing milkshakes and even kissing in public for the sake of their master plan, and according to Veronica, their acting had been simply perfect.
An act. That was all it was supposed to be, and it was all that really was, right? They did it for the sake of Jugead’s life, and both of them were fully aware of that the whole time they were playing lovebirds. It had all been just a big lie— one of the endless lies hidden in this small town— so why on earth was she feeling so frustrated?
She turned one last time, her eyes now facing the ceiling of the room. Her arms rested on both sides of her body over the duvet, and she could only feel herself growing more irritated by the time she was wasting with that nonsense. ”What's wrong with you, Betty?” She whispered to herself, thinking that, maybe, if she threw the words into the universe, she might actually find a logical explanation for all of those feelings. Maybe, if she could tell Jughead about it, he would find her an answer.
Yeah, right. Telling Jughead that she was actually losing sleep because her stupid heart was actually rummaging around the biggest ‘what if’ of her young life.
What if Archie hadn’t rejected her? Would they still be together? Would things have gone so smoothly as when they were pretending? And what about Jughead?
What about Jughead?
Would their friendship still be as it used to be if they hadn’t started dating? Would they still investigate all of Riverdale’s dark secrets if Archie was more present in her life? Would his life have been so different without her love?
Her eyes widened at the thought and slowly, she sat up on the bed, her legs now on the edge of the mattress. Golden hair was falling on the sides of her face, as she found herself deeper into her thoughts. Betty had never even considered how her life would’ve been if her beanie-clad knight hadn’t climbed up her window and stolen a kiss from her that day. Their lives were now so entangled that she just couldn’t picture herself without Jughead anymore.
He understands her better than anyone. He accepts her for who she really is, and their love is the only truly good thing in Riverdale. Their love is real— way more than whatever she used to feel for Archie— and even if she was now trapped in that dilemma, not even once had she doubted her love for him.
It was just… just — She couldn’t even describe what she was feeling, for god’s sake!
She has always prided herself in how well she could use words to describe her mind’s tricks in her journals, but this time, Betty was freaking out over it! She could feel her anxiety peaking, making her heart beat faster and her lungs urge for more air as she just couldn’t find the right answers for her questions. What even were her questions, to begin with? She wanted to work with facts, just like when they’re investigating things, but there was no such thing as logic in her feelings at that moment.
All she knew was that she had been moved by the time she had spent as Archie’s fake girlfriend. Even if had only been for just a couple of days, it was undeniable that she had to pretend to be everything her younger-self used to wish for. She had to pretend to be happy with her ginger neighbor while living in a world without Jughead Jones by her side, and perhaps, she allowed that stupid illusion to meddle with her reality. By not knowing how long Jughead would remain considered K.I.A, her mind began to spiral out and project herself a new, distorted future.
A future in which Jughead and her are no longer together.
Her hands were quick to cover her mouth and suddenly, a terrified expression took over her face as she was hit by that realization. Of course, she thought, quickly standing up and rushing to the drawer where she kept her photo album. She sat back on the carpet and started to go through older pics of her and the boys during their childhood, when they were always together and life was but a walk in the park during a warm, summer day.
Those really were simpler times. They had absolutely nothing to worry about and Riverdale—well, for all they knew— was still just a small town with pep. Back then, kids were still allowed to have fun and people weren’t being killed by their own neighbors. Her father was still a good man, Cheryl still had a twin brother and she was still the perfect, girl who was so young and in love with her best friend.
Her entire future had already been decided back then. While her mother had taken care of her education and what she would have to do in order to achieve the best colleges in the country, Betty herself had already written in her journals about marrying Archie and how they would manage a life of happiness and success before their thirties. That future used to be clear as the day in her naive imagination, and perhaps, that was also the future she had started to imagine during their little game of pretending.
Betty found herself to be impersonating her younger version during those days because that Betty had everything figured out. She knew what to do and where to go; and most of all, she knew everything would work out in the end. She wasn’t afraid of anything or anyone— herself included on this huge list— and perhaps, that ignorance was enough.
Enough for her to feel loved and confident, and mostly, enough for her to be happy.
Her eyes sadly softened at a picture of her smiling next to Archie. Things would’ve certainly been easier if that fantasy future of hers had come true. She wouldn’t have cried as much as she did in the past years, and she would only have to worry about winning prom queen during her senior year. She wouldn’t be a nosy, Nancy-Drew-wannabe and instead of breaking into people’s houses to investigate their pasts, she could be just another student walking down the hallways of Riverdale High.
Who wouldn’t want a life like that? A normal life.
Her heart suddenly ached at the thought. She could feel tears threatening to pool under her eyes, and it didn’t really take her that long to reach the first and most important conclusion of the night.
She wouldn't want a life like that.
In fact, she would hate a life like that.
Though simple and serene, a life like that would be nothing but a huge lie. If she were to follow all of her old dreams, Betty would be trapped in a world blinded by a curtain of pre-made decisions and overwhelming expectancies that she would most likely be unable to reach. And then, knowing her old-self like she does, the blonde knew it would be just a matter of time until she blew that whole facade up and got herself hurt. Really hurt.
More than when Polly was taken away and more than when Archie rejected her after she told him about her feelings. Oh, that’s right… On that night, while wearing that pink dress that made her look like a barbie doll, her ideal life ended before it even began. She was left crying on her porch because her prince charming thought she was just too perfect for him. In all of those years of planning, she had never expected not be chosen back because she had become the supposedly best version of herself.
She used to be too much and too unreachable. Without knowing, she built a wall around herself that no one even tried to trespass in fear of never being good enough for her. She was a perfect and lonely girl who had isolated herself in her pristine world, where no one could hear her pleas.
Poor Elizabeth Cooper.
But she would be okay, right? She would eventually find someone worthy of her perfection. Eventually, she would find someone who could fit into her pretty, little world and she would finally have a brilliant, happy and simple future.
Right?
No fucking way.
She could never be happy like that. That future could never be right, and right now, as she looked at her white window, she couldn't thank him enough for saving her from her own solitude.
Right now, instead of looking at that window and thinking about her neighbor, she thinks about the boy from the wrong side of the tracks who climbed his way up to her room, called her crazy and kissed her with all the love and kindness she had been denied for ages. He wasn’t perfect and he was nothing like the man she had pictured to be her husband, but that was the best thing about him.
He saw her as more than just that fake image she had adopted as her identity. He saw the girl behind that mask and that included all of her flaws, her passions, her scars and her peculiarities. He saw all that, and yet… He didn’t run away. Jughead Jones stayed by her side during the best and worst moments of her life, and it was the first time she felt like she was wanted.
She felt loved.
She felt loved and excited and—damn— she felt so free. For the first time in her life, Betty was feeling everything so deeply and with such intensity that made all of that old numbness seem like a distant nightmare. Of course, there were a lot of painful moments, when her face was soaked in tears and her heart was breaking, but even that felt better than that emptiness that took over her life.
Betty could finally find some relief building up in her stomach as she looked at what was probably her favorite photo of them. Officially, that was a picture Archie and Veronica took of themselves during their Labor Day escapade, but standing there, on the background, Jughead and her were swimming together, warm bodies entangled and surrounded by the cold water; and she will always remember how much she wanted that moment to last. His blue eyes were so beautiful that day, and through them, she saw the reflection of what was certainly best version of herself.
And that version only exists because of him. He took her out of her own life so they could start something new together, and ever since that, Betty just couldn’t imagine herself wanting to go back.
So screw the simpler times— they are never coming back. Screw her expectations and all of the words she has once written in her journals. Screw her first love. It was never the love she deserved.
A bright and warm smile was now taking over her face and she had never felt lighter before. Her heart was beating faster in excitement right now and— damn it— she just felt the urge to see Jughead. She wanted to tell him everything she had just finally concluded, and more than ever, she wanted to tell him how much she loves him. Perhaps, she could go after him at the bunker, and then—
Fuck. Her eyes drifted to the digital clock on her nightstand and the green numbers were marking 3:27am. There was no way she could just go out there and wake him up after he had probably spent the whole afternoon working so hard to catch up on their studies. A wave of disappointment hit her, and through her mirror, she saw herself pouting like a contradicted, spoiled child.
She wanted to be with him. She needed to see him and that unique beanie of his.
And thankfully, he felt the same way.
When Betty had finally decided to put the photos back on the drawer so she could go back to bed, her ears captured the roaring of a very familiar engine right before it suddenly died out. Her eyes widened, and she wasted no time before rushing to the window to confirm the expectations of her now thrilled heart. She glanced towards the streets, and she could never describe how happy she was when she saw him taking off his helmet and leaving it on his motorcycle.
What a sight for sore eyes, she thought, as a blush crawled up her cheeks. She saw as he yawned and scratched the back of his neck, and even if she knew he was clearly tired, Betty just couldn’t keep her own excitement for herself at that moment.
That was the man she loves. The man she's going to marry.
The blonde, then, took a deep breath and wasted no time before running out of their bedroom and down the stairs so she could finally meet him. When she got down there, the red door was already been unlocked, and as soon as it was opened, her heart skipped a beat at the sight in front of her. Jughead was half asleep, with his messenger bag hanging on his right shoulder, and she saw as his eyes widened as soon as they met hers.
“Eh? Betty? It’s 3am. What are you—“
The raven haired boy didn’t even have time to finish his question before his girlfriend literally jumped on him. His keys fell on the floor and so did his bag, and as in an automatic movement, his arms encircled her waist so he could properly hold her up. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, and her lips were already pressed to his in a strong and breathtaking kiss.
It was warm, soft, intense and it was filled with pure and sincere love. An everlasting that love that has already faced so many hardships and only grew stronger amidst the adversities. Her cheeks were blushing as her bare feet were still far from touching the ground, and the pressure of his fingertips on her small body was strong enough to make her feel safe.
He would not let her fall, she knew. And even if he did— even if, one day, he’s not strong enough— then they will fall together.
Neither of them knew how long they had remained like that, but eventually, he slowly put her down, his hands now resting on her lower back, as their eyes looked at one other. The Jones boy was left speechless, and all she could do about it was suppress the urge to laugh. If anything, she’s one of the few people in the world who are able to leave him speechless, and she can’t help but to feel proud of herself for that.
“I…You…What—“ He cleared his throat, then, closing his eyes for a couple of seconds as he finally tried to find the words she had stolen from him. “Hey, Betts. Nice to see you here."
“Hi, Jug.” She smiled. “Nice to see you, too. I thought you weren’t gonna come home tonight.”
“Yeah, I thought so, too, but I ran out of coffee there. And you know I can’t survive without it.”
“Oh, you really can’t live without your midnight coffee. Though it’s still a mystery how your stomach doesn’t complain about it.”
“Years of practice, Betts.” He smirked, his fingers unconsciously drawing circles on her hips. “But the real mystery here is why on earth are you awake, young lady?"
“I had an epiphany!” She said, a little louder than she needed to, joy clearly present in her voice.
“Oh…” His eyes widened, a mild surprise taking over his expression. “Cool, I guess? Hope it was a positive one.”
“It was a wonderful one, Jug!”
“Well, I’m really happy for you, then. And happy for me because of this unexpected and very pleasant display of affection. What was it about?”
“You.”
“Me?” He arched his brows. “Could it be that you’ve finally realized who’s the best detective of this duo?”
“Definitely not. I already know it’s me.” She smirked. “I was actually having some trouble sleeping with all of these thoughts about us, but now I’m much better.”
“Sounds really great, Betts. Do you wanna talk about it?”
“Definitely! I can’t wait for you to hear it all. I need you to hear it all.” Her eyes grew fonder at such words, and she watched as his expression mimicked her own. Jughead knew whatever had stolen her sleep was an important matter to her and if she needed him to hear all about it, then, he would.
He wanted to. He really wanted to.
“Okay…” He started, his voice filled with tenderness and honesty. “Then let’s get inside, make some coffee and you can tell me all about it.”
"Right now?"
"Yeah. Why not?"
“Actually…” Betty said, her voice laced with a certain tone he knew way too well. “I was thinking that we could go to our room instead.”
“Do you prefer talking there?”
“Not really, but… Maybe we could leave it for tomorrow. It’s not like I’m in a hurry to tell you or anything.”
“What? But we’re both awake now. What else could be more important than that?”
“Well…” She leaned in, slowly, and whispered something only for his ears to hear. It was a fast and productive talk that, in a matter of seconds, made his eyes widen and a silly smile take over his lips. Betty, then, returned to her previous position, and she knew her words had served their purpose.
“We can certainly talk tomorrow.” He said, eagerly, leaving his belongings on the floor next to the entrance right after he closed the door behind him. The blonde let out a muffled giggle, and before she could take another step, he lifted her up to carry her upstairs. Her hands delicately cupped his cheeks, and softly, she planted another kiss on his lips.
Once more, they were just two teenagers in love, enjoying their night together. They didn’t care about anything else at that moment, and their minds weren’t even thinking about trivial things such as the future, his coffee, her mother waking up or the fact that they both had english classes in a couple of hours.
At that moment, nothing else mattered. Nothing but their love.
And their future—oh, what a delightful adventure awaited for them.
fin.
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Power Play (m)
⇥ written as part of the Lights, Camera, Action! pornstar collab ⇤
➾ 27.6k
➾ warnings: degradation/ humiliation, unprotected sex, creampies, cum eating, thigh riding, ass play, spitting, mentions of religion (porn scene involving a Catholic priest and school girl- please skip over if this offends you!), mentions of impregnation
➾ a/n: thank you so much to my deli fairy @jimlingss for hearing me out when i was ranting about how hard it was to write this. you gave me so much inspiration and motivation to write, and this fic would not be here without you :D @parkmuse you are the absolute mvp for offering to beta read this monster. thank you for validating me when i needed it TT i know you’ll just nut over this so enjoy ;-) and of course!!!! @winetae I'm so happy and grateful to be a part of this collaboration 😭 im honoured to be able to fulfil your porn star dreams :”D
happy valentine’s day 🌹❤️
please do check out the other lovely writers in the collab too!!
➾ summary: You know him as the A lister of all porn stars; a man who sits pretty in his place at the top of the food chain. But you also know him as the Park Jimin who single handedly humiliated you and ruined your own career as a rookie just starting out, the epitome of the biggest dick in the entire industry… and you’re not talking about his assets. But when Park Jimin comes to you, saying he’s in a slump that only you can get him out of and begs you to sign an exclusive contract with him; things get messy… in more ways than one.
“Longer thrusts, we want to see that cock sliding in and out, and more power please,” the director calls out as Jimin grunts mid thrust. “And watch your expression! You look like you’re fucking a garbage disposal. Get it together, Park!”
Sweat is pouring down his face as he gathers the last bit of his strength to push his co-star’s legs up onto his shoulders. Below him is one of his fellow A listers, the hottest, most on demand porn star in the industry. Everything from Sana’s bouncing, voluptuous breasts to her tiny squeaks and moans should serve as motivation for him and help him to perform his best, but there’s somehow… something lacking.
He’d been wanting to work with Sana for the longest time ever, even his manager was enthusiastic about two top A-listers coming together (no pun intended), but looking down at her now, it’s blatantly obvious that he isn’t as physically attracted to her as he thought.
“Cut, makeup team please,” the director motions for a touchup to be done, and Jimin groans as he pauses his thrusts and a few stylists fuss with his hair and his face. The sweat is carefully sponged off his forehead, the shading on his abs touched up a little, and being in this position, with this many strangers crowding around him nearly makes him go soft inside Sana’s pussy.
“You okay?” Sana frowns in concern as she can feel him start to slide out of her, gripping him with her walls tighter.
Jimin brushes aside her concern with a nod, just as the director calls for them to resume, and he starts pumping his hips into her again, driving deep with every thrust. Something he’s doing must be right, since the director is calling for close up shots and urging him to go faster and harder.
“Money shot in two minutes, Park please get ready,” the script writer reminds him somewhere from behind, and he grunts low in his throat, reaching down to wrap his hands around Sana’s waist to pull her onto his cock more firmly. “When you’re ready, pull out till just the tip. We want a nice big creampie there, tell us if you need the backup…”
Jimin forces himself to go harder, feeling his balls tighten up as he tries to cum on command, something he’s never had trouble with since the beginning of his career. He’s practically built his entire reputation as a porn star on creampies and facials, not to mention he knows he looks like sin incarnate when he throws his head back while he cums.
“Oh fuck, yes,” Sana gasps under him, and when her walls flutter around him, it occurs to Jimin that she’s not acting right now, she’s actually about to cum around him. “Pl-lease cum inside me, I want your cum so bad, fill my pussy up.”
Her passionate moans make her scripted lines even more believable, this is why she’s an A-lister, because she actually enjoys having sex on camera. Hearing her beg for his cum is almost enough to push him over the edge, just almost. But today he needs just a little bit more, so he squeezes his eyes shut and calls to mind a random image from his wank bank.
The first thing that comes to mind is a red plaid skirt under him and his hands around a waist, translucent white shirt stretched tight over small, perky breasts. His gaze travels up to her neck, and just almost reaches her face before—
“Fuck,” Jimin swears under his breath, hopefully disguising it as a grunt of pleasure when he realises that he doesn’t have the money shot today, too distracted by the suddenness of that mental image. He makes a discreet gesture behind his back, hidden from the camera, and that’s when one of the assistants steps in with a tube in between his spread legs.
The tube goes below his cock and inserted shallowly unto Sana’s pussy, so when Jimin groans and jerks himself off with one hand, the assistant pumps the lube up into the tube, making it seem as if Jimin had just blown his load. He feels the lube surround the head of his cock as he attempts a few small thrusts to spread it around a little, make it more realistic, before pulling out.
The fake cum that drips from Sana’s pussy looks far too realistic, that even Jimin himself is amazed. He spreads her lips with both fingers to show the camera the thick white liquid leaking from her, playing with her clit and coating it with the mixture as he rubs her to a final orgasm that makes her walls clench around nothing, squeezing out even more of the fake cum onto the mattress.
And then he moves off the bed as the camera zooms in for the last frame as Sana spreads her legs wide to show off her creamed pussy, fingers dipping into the mess and then licking it clean with her tongue, giggling as she licks her lips.
“Cut!” The director draws the final scene to a close, and just in time too, because Jimin’s cock is going soft even though he didn’t even cum.
Sana flashes him a smile in thanks as she sits up to peer in between her legs, and a few assistants help her to clean up.
“Hey, you okay?” Manager Sejin hurries over to bring him his robe and a wet wipe, and Jimin shrugs it on silently, swiping half-heartedly at his thighs just to go through the motion of it all before he ties his robe closed and runs a hand through his sweaty hair, adamantly turning his back towards the director who is still talking with a few set assistants and script writers.
Not a few minutes later, the director strides over with a few script writers and exchanges a few laughs and jokes with Sejin, and Jimin is forced to turn around as well.
“The famous Park Jimin, what a show stopper,” he grins, slapping Jimin on the shoulder a few times with a huge grin on his face, seemingly pleased with how the whole shoot went today. “I knew it was a good call casting you and Sana together. You both look like a real on-screen couple! Both hot as fuck with bodies to die for, now that’s what I call chemistry!”
Jimin can only manage a half-hearted smile, which the director is entirely smitten with as he makes promises with Sejin to be in touch for Jimin’s next project soon. If that’s what the director thinks is chemistry, then he hasn’t seen many movies. But then again, what counts as chemistry in the porn industry is totally different from Hollywood. Here, as long as you act like you’re having a good time, say your cheesy lines and cum on command, anything goes.
His teeth sink into his lower lip as he makes his way to the car, getting in without a single word. Fooling the director is one thing, but there’s one person he’ll never be able to fool, and that’s himself. Jimin has never felt as if he was on the verge of losing an erection during a scene. The first five minutes of the car ride is spent in silence as he reproaches himself over and over, and Sejin casts him a wary glance.
“You’re doing it again, aren’t you? Blaming yourself over something that can’t be changed,” Sejin interrupts his thoughts.
“No, it’s just…” Jimin denies it, but gives in a second later. “I was struggling during that last scene. Like really, honestly struggling. I think I’m losing it.”
To admit it out loud might be the scariest thing he’s ever done in his entire life to date. Saying it out loud makes it seem all the more real, and although it might be childish, Jimin thinks that if he keeps all these thoughts buried away in the corners of his mind, then everything will be alright again. All his doubts and insecurities will turn out to be nothing but lies, and everything will be okay.
“I know. I saw,” Sejin says. “Everyone struggles once in a while. What’s important is that you pulled through.”
His sincere words somehow makes Jimin want to keep talking. “I think… I’m tired. Tired of fake cumming in girls, tired of slapping random asses every day. The director said we had fucking chemistry. Can you believe that? Sana and I wouldn’t last two seconds in a science lab.”
Sejin chuckles as Jimin gets himself all worked up, muttering under his breath. “People see what they want to see, kid.”
“Do you remember anything about a girl in a white shirt and red plaid skirt?” Jimin asks suddenly, and Sejin is somewhat derailed by the change in topic, but decides to go along with his plucky charge’s demands. “Maybe one of my ex co-stars?”
“Park, this is porn. Red plaid skirt is a porn category all on its own, you must have fucked at least a dozen girls in that get up. So you gotta be more specific,” Sejin says as he turns into Jimin’s driveway, bringing the car to a stop.
“Oh. Right.” Visibly disappointed, Jimin leans back in his seat for a moment before reaching for the seatbelt to unbuckle it. “Well, thanks for today, hyung. I’ll get going now—“
“Wait, Park, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about this for a while now,” Sejin turns to Jimin with a contemplative look on his face. “It’s about a new project I had in mind. I’ve been discussing this with a few people from the brand department, and I think it’ll get you out of your slump.”
“That’s what we thought about Sana, remember?” Jimin fidgets with the tie on his robe. “Who is it this time? Another blonde bombshell? We pretty much exhausted the entire A listers already, so I don’t see who else—“
“Except she’s not an A lister,” Sejin turns and rummages around the mess that is the backseat of his car for a few minutes before pulling out a tablet and unlocking it with a few swipes. “But she’s a rising star. A face you don’t really see that often in porn, and her concept is unique too.”
He clicks open a few folders and swipes through a few albums before he finds what he wants, handing the tablet to Jimin. “Here. This girl. I don’t think you’ve ever worked with her before, but—“
The tablet feels like stone in his hands as he stares at the image, and suddenly, he’s able to put a face to that girl in the white shirt and plaid skirt from earlier. This must be a slightly newer picture, since your hair looks different from how he remembers it. You’re wearing a white lace babydoll set, looking more innocent and pure than anything he’s ever seen in his entire life.
Jimin’s seen way too many girls in lingerie by now, such that he’s almost desensitized to it already. But there’s something different about this picture that makes his blood rush through his veins almost immediately. Unlike the hundreds of girls he’s seen, you’re more modestly covered in this picture, your breasts are fully covered in the delicate cloth, and Jimin has to tear his gaze away from it before his mouth starts to water, the lace allowing him peeks of your skin through the material. The way you’re seated on that chair—luscious thighs spread apart, your pussy just hidden from view—is the most provocative sight he’s ever seen. Your head is propped on your hand and you are looking somewhere off camera in a slightly bored expression, but it enraptures him nevertheless.
“As you can see, her concept isn’t about showing as much skin as possible. Her brand is pretty much the opposite of yours—softcore domination, that is—and since opposites attract, I was thinking a miniseries… that is, if you guys have the chemistry. If you really like her and you gusy can work well together…” Sejin glances over at Jimin to gauge his reaction, only to find him still staring at the picture on the screen with a laser like intensity. The tell-tale bulge in his dress pants makes Sejin burst out in laughter. “I’m guessing little Park approves? What’s with you, popping a boner just by seeing a girl in underwear?”
Jimin sends him a side eyed glare, hastily using the tablet to cover his lap as he mumbles defensively, “it’s leftover from the shoot just now.”
Sejin hits the steering wheel with a victorious fist. “I knew it! I knew you’d like her. When I first saw one of her videos a few days ago, I immediately thought of you. I don’t know why she looked so familiar, but I guess there aren’t many girls doing the modest concept these days—“
“You’re wrong, hyung,” Jimin interrupts before Sejin can get too carried away. “I haveworked with her before, five years ago.” Jimin’s memory is now crystal clear, he remembers that day as if it was yesterday.
“Really? You have?” Sejin frowns in confusion. “I think I’d remember a face like that…”
Jimin sighs as he tosses the tablet into the backseat in resignation. “Your project sounds great and all, but it’ll never work.”
“What? Why?” Sejin fumbles for the tablet again, struggling to understand Jimin’s sudden change in mood.
“Because she hates me to the core. There’s no way she’ll ever agree to work with me.”
“And that’s a wrap, thank you!” The slates clap one last time, and your co-star breaks character immediately to brush his thumb at the corner of your eye to make sure that one bit of cum doesn’t accidentally get inside. Inwardly your heart stops at his tender gesture, as if you hadn’t been on edge the whole scene.
Cha Eun Woo is one of the most handsome porn stars you’ve ever seen. His face is a work of the gods; when he smiles he is all shy boyish charm that has all his older female viewers quaking in their panties (you included), but when he clenches his jaw tight he is anything but a flower boy. You consider it a privilege to get to work with someone like him, and even though this scene isn’t exactly up your alley—bondage and face fucking—you’d do it all over again if it only meant getting to look at his beautiful face.
Eun Woo reaches for the restraints on your wrists and starts undoing them before his manager drapes a robe over him and tries to usher him away. Good looking and has manners? You need to get on that dick immediately, preferably not with a dozen cameras surrounding you.
He insists on undoing at least one side of your restraints before he allows himself to be dragged away by his manager who insists that he has another shoot to get to. He throws you an apologetic smile over his shoulder which you return as one of the set assistants helps you with your wrists and hands you a robe along with a wet wipe for your face. The back view of him isn’t too bad either, in fact it’s just as good as the front. You continue staring till it’s regrettably covered by his robe, and then you migrate your gaze down to his thighs.
You wish you’d written your number on the backs of those hard as steel thighs. Never mind that you don’t have a pen, there’s plenty of cum on your face for you to-
“Done ogling your co-star yet? Didn’t you get enough in the past four hours already?” You sigh in disappointment when your manager finally appears in your field of vision, blocking your view of Eun Woo’s thighs as she hands you a bottle of water.
Regrettably, you unscrew the cap and take a sip, following Wendy to the changing room. “Even a lifetime together with that man wouldn’t be enough.”
Before you enter the changing rooms, there is a flurry of activity behind you and a few screams here and there. You whip your head around, clutching your robe to your chest in terror as the most horrifying scenes cross your mind. Maybe you’ll be burnt alive before you can collect your day’s pay, resigned to a tragic death without ever having a chance to try that new all you can eat buffet. Or maybe it’s a gunman looking to shoot down the most attractive person in this set, and seeing as Eun Woo has left the building long ago-
“It’s Park Jimin, oh my god!!!” Wendy squeals in your ear, abruptly putting an end to your macabre imagination as she scurries towards the set, stopping halfway when she realises your expression has darkened over.
You can spot a gaggle of fangirls- mostly set assistants and even the director himself- crowding around him as he runs an unbothered hand through his silver hair, pushing his dark circle lenses further up his nose as he shoots them a polite smile. Jerk. Asshat. Pretentious bastard. Who the hell wears sunglasses indoors? You hope he trips an invisible crack on the floor and falls flat on his stupid face. Why would an A-lister like Park Jimin be here in the first place?
Just then, the man in question raises his head as if he’s looking for something, and while you can’t exactly be sure, you feel his gaze lock onto you, and you hurriedly turn away to the safety of the changing rooms.
You open your locker to start changing into your shirt dress, your robe half off your frame when you hear the door open. Thinking that it’s Wendy, you don’t bother to speed up your actions at all; she’s seen you naked plenty of times. Sometimes when she breaks into your house to wake you up for morning schedules you don’t even bother putting on clothes till the very last minute, so—
“I must say, you’re a lot hotter than I thought you’d be. You look like you’ve grown a cup size or two.”
The sound of a male voice makes your heart leap into your throat, and you drop everything you’re holding, but thankfully your robe remains clasped under your arms. Park Jimin lowers his sunglasses to the very end of his nose as his eyes linger on every bit of exposed skin, even tiptoeing to get a better look, the bastard.
“Long-time no see, hmm?”
He looks conspicuously out of place in his immaculately pressed dress pants and white silk shirt, arms folded against his chest with an amused look on his face as you scramble to cover yourself up as quickly as you can. Arming yourself with a glare, you turn around to face him fully, your back against the lockers and feeling as if you’re being cornered.
For the first time in five years, you come face to face with the source of all your misery. He looks just as cocky and suave as he did all those years ago when you were just a rookie starting out in the porn industry, fresh faced and hopeful, desperate to make a quick buck to pay off all your tuition fees.
“I don’t think we’ve met,” you deliberately force yourself to turn back to your locker, acting as if his gaze on your back doesn’t bother you in the least. “What are you doing here? It’s not your shoot.”
Jimin looks a little disappointed when you’re decent again. “Why so shy all of a sudden? It’s not like I don’t know what you look like under there. That video where you get titty fucked? They’ve definitely grown a cup or two since then.”
You cast a cursory glance towards the entrance of the changing room, wondering why Wendy isn’t storming in by now. Granted, people in the porn industry are a lot more relaxed when it comes to nudity and personal space. In fact, just last month, management proposed to merge both sexes’ changing rooms into one in favour of an onsite barista serving custom made coffee and drinks, and everyone jumped on that bandwagon like a man with blue balls at an orgy.
Thankfully some people still had brains enough to protest it and overturn that decision.
“As if you’ve ever seen any of my videos,” you tell him with a roll of your eyes, fumbling around for your underwear so that you can get the hell out of there as fast as you can, to spare yourself from any more humiliation in front of this man. “As if that tiny pea brain of yours could contemplate anyone else’s existence other than your own.”
“Ouch, that’s harsh,” Jimin pretends as if you shot him straight in the heart, and you honestly wish you had a gun just so you could. The world would be a much happier place without him.
Jimin bends down to pick something up from the ground, and you’re horrified when you realise that it’s your plain old white cotton bra, the ratty one that’s been in the wash one too many times and may or may not have its underwire poking out. He dangles it from his finger by the strap with an accompanying smirk on his face as he examines it thoroughly, eyes flitting towards your face every now and then.
“Looking for this? I was right. You did grow a cup size.”
You snatch it from him and decide to bite the bullet, shoving your robe off and pulling your shirt dress over your body as fast as you can. You can already feel him gearing up to make a greasy comment about your lack of underwear, but you stop him in his tracks as you slam the locker closed.
“Watch it, Park. My body’s only a free for all when the cameras are on. Apart from that, I charge by the minute.” You swing your tote bag over your shoulder and make a beeline for the doors, but Jimin isn’t letting you get away so easily.
“Then how about I film you with my phone? Does that count?” He grins cheerfully as he whips out his phone from his pocket, but all you see is just sleaze personified on his face. “I’ve never done amateur porn before, but I’d do anything to fuck that pussy of yours.”
The nerve of this guy. Just because he’s an A lister, he thinks he can just show up all willy nilly at someone else’s shoot, scare them while they’re half naked and say these kinds of disgusting, lewd things. Honestly, you have no idea why he’s even here at your shoot in the first place when he could be doing a number of other things instead. Namely, working out and ingesting copious amounts of protein, and also checking himself out in the mirror. You can’t say that you’re intimately familiar with his hobbies, but it seems about right for someone as vain and cocky as Park Jimin.
“In your dreams. Now if you don’t mind, I have other places to be.” You shut him down again as you head outside to look for Wendy’s car.
“I’m serious. I have a preposition for you.” Jimin stops you with a hand on your arm. “A mini-series with me.”
“Save it, Park. Why would I want to do a scene with you?” You wrinkle your nose at him as you unscrew the lid of a bottle of water to take a few sips. “Actually, scratch that. I’d love to do a scene with you. It could be the shortest shoot ever in the history of porn. A tiny dick like yours couldn’t last even an hour. We’d be done in thirty minutes!”
While you are exclaiming in glee to yourself, clapping your hands with mirth at the thought of poor little Park Jimin prematurely ejaculating all over himself while the rest of the set watches on in disappointment, you don’t notice his eyes narrow and his lips press together in a firm line. You’re all too absorbed in the fantasy of watching Park Jimin embarrass himself in front of you and a whole bunch of other people, instead of it being the other way around, for karma to kick his ass and give him what he deserves after all these years.
You turn back to him when a thought suddenly strikes you. “Hey, you were there watching me and Eun Woo today right?”
Jimin folds his arms across his chest, all traces of glee wiped clean from his face. “Yeah… why?”
“Did you see how long he lasted? He didn’t even need a fluffer in between scenes. He fucked me like a pro,” you sigh dreamily, unconsciously gripping the bottle tight as you call to mind how thick his cock was. “And he’s so good looking too. I heard he once sat on a nail and he didn’t even feel a thing. Can you imagine how fine that ass of his must be?”
“My ass is pretty great too…” Jimin mumbles in consternation. “Why won’t you do a scene with me? Look, if it matters that much to you, I’ll even sit on a nail too. I’ll sit on two nails. Just to prove it.”
You don’t hear him over the sound of your phone chiming with a text. Unlocking it to check your messages, you throw in a few random belongings from your locker into your bag and get ready to leave, but Jimin still has more to say.
“My team’s already done the market research and analysis, you’re just that tiny bit short of making it to A list. If we collaborate, I’m pretty sure you’ll sky rocket to fame—“
You shrug his hand away violently, turning to face him with the immense urge to slap him hard. “What if I don’t want to be an A lister? Ever thought of that, Park? I’m no longer a charity case for people like you who’ve had it smooth sailing all along to take pity on. I made it this far on my own merit alone, and I sure as hell don’t need your help now—“
“Is this because I turned you down that one time?”
For someone who hasn’t seen you in five years, Park Jimin sure knows you well enough to hit you where it still hurts. Before you can stop it, the memories of that terrible, awful day come filtering back in despite your feeble attempts to block it out.
“Who’s this?” Park Jimin wrinkled his nose as he glanced at your poor fitting outfit.
You were well aware that your attempt at a sexy schoolgirl outfit didn’t quite meet the mark- it had come out of your own closet after all- but still, there was no reason for him to be quite so harsh, and you were at a loss for words. “I-I’m—“
“Is this my co-star?” Clothed in his perfectly pressed suit with his hair perfectly coiffed and standing at the other end of the table, Jimin glanced off to the side at the camera crew in doubt. At their confirmation, Jimin turned back to you and broke out into laughter. “PD-nim, I know you were aiming for an innocent school girl getting punished, but isn’t this a little too much?”
The entire set went silent, all eyes were on you and Jimin as you pushed yourself into a sitting position. Now that you looked down at yourself, you saw everything that was wrong- your skirt should have been a good three inches shorter, your blouse tighter, and you should have thrown on that pair of knee socks too-
“I-if there’s something wrong with my outfit, o-or my makeup, I’ll fix it real quick, I promise,” you were mumbling, tripping over your words in anxiety. You knew that this was your big break- appearing on screen with someone as famous as Park Jimin would give you the exposure you needed. More pragmatically, that day’s pay alone would be enough to pay off three months of rent that you’d been late on, and buy some much needed food other than instant noodles and bread and-
“This isn’t something that can be fixed with clothes or makeup,” Jimin shook his head as he turned away to walk off set. “PD-nim, I specifically requested a hot co-star right? Not her. She’s just too cute. No one would take her seriously. She looks like she belongs in a church choir! I’d feel like I was committing a cardinal sin. I don’t even think I could get it up!”
And you were left staring at his back as he walked away, pride wounded. You could hear some of the staff whispering amongst themselves, shooting you looks of pity. But the thought of the bills stacking up made you fight back tears and push yourself off the table as you ran after him.
“M-Mr Park, please, I really need this,” you hated the way your voice sounded, hated putting yourself at someone else’s mercy. But having this opportunity disappear right in front of your eyes made you desperate, you were already clutching at straws, right at the end of your rope, and this was all you had. “Just tell me what I need to change. I’ll do anything.”
“Nothing you do could make me want to fuck you.” Jimin shrugged out of your grip as he pushes back the sleeve of his blazer to reveal a gold Rolex on his wrist. He began to unbuckle the watch from his wrist. “Here. Take this. Compensation for your time.”
He threw the watch onto the ground carelessly as he walked away with his hands in his pockets.
You turn to face him fully, clenching your jaw as you force the remnants of the past back where they belong: out of sight and out of mind. “So what if it is? You think just because you’re an A lister everyone is dying to work with you? I wouldn’t work with Mr Four Inches even if you begged me to.”
How the tables have turned; if only someone had told you on that fateful day after Park Jimin left you in tears, that five years later he’d be crawling back and asking you to work with him. But revenge is sweet and a dish best served cold.
“Listen, back then I was an arrogant jerk, and I said things I shouldn’t have,” Jimin removes his sunglasses so that you can see his eyes now, and it actually looks as if the bastard is truly sorry. Too bad a mere apology won’t fix things now; neither will it negate all the hardship you went through just to make a name for yourself. “Just tell me what it’ll take for you to agree to work with me. I’m open to anything.”
You take a step closer to him, securing yourself a front row seat to the guilt and remorse that plays out on his face as he averts his gaze downwards. This is the moment you’ve been waiting for the past five years, even fantasised about it while going to bed hungry only to wake up at the crack of dawn the next morning to get to your shoot by yourself. This is the moment that makes all that suffering worth it.
“Nothing you do could make me want to fuck you.”
On days that you don’t have a schedule, your guilty pleasure is lying in bed doing nothing. Maybe scroll through some social media on your phone. Go back to sleep for a couple of hours. Nothing strenuous like getting out of bed even for food though. And besides, no one ever visits you other than your manager anyway.
So when your doorbell rings on your day off, you groan and push yourself out of bed, taking a whole five minutes just to muster the energy to get to your feet. Your body is still healing and recovering from your last session with Eun Woo—the script had called for some love bites and marks, and you have to let them fade a little before you can do your next shoot.
You stumble to the door and open it, only to find Park Jimin at your doorstep.
“What the fuck are you doing here? How did you know where I live?” You’re almost instantly awake now, fumbling for your phone. “Get the fuck out of here, or I’m calling the police.”
“Wait, please,” Jimin pushes against the door as you attempt to slam it in his face. “Just hear me out. Five minutes, that’s all. Please.”
Something about the tone of his voice makes you hesitate, and Jimin is able to shove the door open a little wider and wedge his body in between the small space. You’re pressed up intimately against him, much closer than you’d like to be, so you back away immediately just to put some distance in between you. You should have kicked this cocky bastard out when you had the chance.
To put aside his pride and humble himself, coming all the way to your doorstep to beg for you to hear him out takes more out of Jimin than he’d ever thought. But your moment of hesitation means a chance for him, and he’ll take it.
“The clock is ticking,” you show him the timer on your phone as you cross your arms.
Jimin almost laughs, he never thought you’d actually be timing him.
“I’m sorry,” he says, figuring that the simplest approach is the best one. “Look, I’m not going weave you a sob story about how much I’ve changed since then, since you most likely won’t buy it anyway. Instead of that, I’ll be honest with you. I’m in a slump.”
You snort with laughter as you cross your arms, leaning back against the counter. This isn’t all too bad, seeing Park Jimin get all desperate in front of you actually helps close those wounds a little. “The great Park Jimin, most sought after porn star in the entire industry, in a slump? Yeah, right. Tell that to your viewers, tell that to someone who actually cares.”
“It’s true,” Jimin insists, and he clenches his fists tight. As much as it hurts him to admit it, he knows this is the only way he’ll ever have a chance of getting through to you. “I know it may not seem like it but I… I’m just sick of fucking a random girl every day. Every shoot feels like a blur, and I’m just… not happy with my performance. If you watch any of my recent videos, I-“
“Watch your videos? Why would I want to watch someone with a tiny dick acting like he’s got it all?” You toss your hair over your shoulder as you walk towards the kitchen. Since you’re up, you might as well get something to eat. “Hey, I have a question. How does the cameraman manage to get a good shot with your big head in the way?”
Okay, he definitely deserves all this, but that doesn’t mean that your insults don’t hurt. Jimin follows a few steps behind you, casting a surreptitious glance downwards. Is his dick really that small? He knows he doesn’t conform to the porn industry norm of seven and up, but he knows he’s got a good girth, and none of his co-stars have ever complained about his size…
“Just… please. It’s not like you aren’t getting anything out of this either, you’ll get on the A list in no time-“
“Do you think that’s what I really want? To get on that fucking A list?” You shoot back at him, fury reignited once more at the mention of rankings. Someone like Park Jimin would never understand how hard you had to work just to get here. And why to be offered a leg up to ride on his coattails is all the more insulting. “Even if it meant more money, even if it meant more fame, I’d rather die than be on that list, if it’ll make me turn into someone like you, who looks down on others beneath them. Newsflash: not everyone is as obsessed with rankings as you are. Some of us are happy with things the way they are, if it’s enough to get by on, then that’s all I need.”
Jimin looks as if he’s been slapped, and his eyes dart around uncertainly, well aware of your indignance, but having no idea how to proceed from this point on. “I’m sorry if I made it sound like that. I was just trying to help you out too, but I-“
“Thanks, but I don’t need it,” you shove his chest, pointing to the door. “Get out of my sight.”
“I haven’t had an orgasm in ages, alright?” Jimin finally exhales in defeat, shoulders slumping as he admits the one thing that he hasn’t told anyone, not even his manager. “And you can laugh at me all you want, and I deserve it, but it’s hard to even get it up these days. There’s only so many pills you can take before it starts to fuck with your health, and if that snowballs, there goes my entire career, my everything-“
Jimin cuts himself off, turning to face you with an inscrutable look on his face.
His sudden confession has you stumped, and you struggle to find the right words as you stare at the man that has been the bane of your existence during the most difficult time of your life. Your first instinct is to mock him and gloat over his misfortune, but the man standing in front of you isn’t the Park Jimin that you know and hate- making fun of him now wouldn’t be morally right. You know of plenty of porn stars who’d been through the entire system and come out the other side worse for wear.
“So? What does that have to do with me? What makes you think I’m the miracle cure to all your problems?”
Jimin is encouraged when you don’t immediately chase him out or laugh at him. To think of how the tables have turned since five years ago makes him feel like an utter jerk- he hadn’t even given you the time of day back then. You’re a better person than he could ever be.
“I’m attracted to you. Physically, at the very least.” Jimin doesn’t have anything to lose now as he shrugs. He’s always been shameless to a large extent. “I popped a boner for the first time on my own when my manager showed me your photo.”
Now this is just plain ridiculous. Your eyes immediately drop to his crotch out of instinct, and the greasy little shit actually smirks. Before you can avert your gaze, he grabs his own dick through his dress pants, and your cheeks immediately heat up as you look away.
“And you expect me to believe that? Out of all the girls you’ve fucked, you’re not attracted to any single one of them, but you pop a tiny little boner for me?” You clear your throat hastily, trying to get your cheeks to cool down. It feels as if the room suddenly became a few degrees hotter, and-
“Why not? Is it that hard to believe?” Jimin shrugs as if it’s no big deal, leaning against your kitchen counter as he watches you gulp an entire glass of water.
“Listen, Park. I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing here, or if this is just one of your tricks to humiliate me again-“
“I’ll prove it!” Jimin is at his wits end, the timer on your phone ran out what seemed like ages ago, and he’s getting kicked out any second now.
“Prove what?” You turn around, and nearly drop the glass you’re holding.
Park Jimin is most definitely not Mr Four Inches. His pants are bunched up around his thick thighs- you’re privy to the very intimate fact that Park Jimin likes to go commando when he wears dress pants- and his dick is standing straight at attention. Even though he must have only been half hard when he grabbed himself just a few minutes ago, right now he is sporting a full erection, and you can’t help but stare at his one-eyed monster with a horrified look on your face.
You’ve seen many dicks in porn while sucking and fucking your way to the top. Park Jimin’s dick should not have this effect on you. But for some reason you can’t take your eyes off it no matter how hard you try, you can’t meet his eyes. “Dude, what the fuck is wrong with you?”
This at least seems to shake his confidence a little. “Wh-what do you mean? If you’re talking about the underwear, it’s good for my balls-”
“How are you hard that fast? Just a second ago you were-“ you cut yourself off as you close your eyes, massaging your throbbing temples. It feels as if you’ve aged ten years since Park Jimin showed up at your house and flashed you his dick in your kitchen.
“This isn’t even my final form yet, if you show me your pussy I can-“
“Did you get a boner just from arguing with me? Wait, you know what, I don’t care. I really don’t care. Just get out. There are knives in this kitchen and I’m not afraid to use them. In fact, I have this special knife I like to use just for long things like pickles and sausages.” You mime a chopping action while staring directly at his exposed dick, and Jimin winces, covering himself instinctively.
Grabbing him by his ear, you half drag him to the door, giving him almost no time to pull his pants up before you toss him out on his ass. Tomorrow you’re putting in a request to end your lease and shift somewhere into the corner of the city so he’ll never be able to harass you again.
That’s the last you’ll ever see of Park Jimin.
You must be drunk. You must be out of your mind.
At least one of the above is true, judging from the almost empty bottle of wine on the table, and if sitting in front of your computer browsing porn in your underwear is considered normal, then you can write off the second one.
But this still doesn’t account for the fact that you’re on Jimin’s homepage scrolling through his top ten most popular videos, learning from his bio the very precise measurements of his dick. And very bizarrely, the fact that he has an especially tiny pinky is… cute?
There must be a virus on your computer. How else would you explain the fact that your mouse is moving of its own volition towards the most popular video on his page and clicking on it? Someone must be controlling your computer from a remote location, forcing you to watch porn videos of this stupid punk who probably can’t even last more than a minute max-
No, no, you can’t do this. You close your eyes tightly as the video buffers. You’ve never seen a single video of his in your entire life, and you’d do anything to keep it that way. But then the sound of Jimin’s low grunts and whines forces your eyes open again, and you’re met with an intimate view of his spread legs as he wraps one hand around his cock. The sight of his precum dripping over his knuckles as he grips himself harder makes you squeeze your thighs together in response. From this perspective his balls look so tightly drawn and swollen, and your mouth waters at the prospect of taking them into your mouth, wondering how he tastes like.
There is a giggle from a girl offscreen, and Jimin looks off to the side with a smirk on his face, spreading his thick thighs wider and letting his cock fall against his abs with a heavy thump. “Your pussy looks so tight, you sure you can take me?”
The camera pans to his female co-star, and you recognise her to be Sana, top A-lister who has a body to die for. She giggles and spreads her lips, lowering herself down on Jimin’s cock as he hooks his arms under her knees. Sana leans back against Jimin’s chest as he begins to fuck into her roughly, her stuffed pussy front and center on camera as her breasts bounce and she screams and cries his name.
Your underwear is suspiciously wet, and you shift uncomfortably, unable to take your eyes off his cock, pumping in and out of her pussy. Sana is actually one of your role models, and you’ve seen enough of her videos to know when she’s putting on an act and when she’s truly screaming her head off from being dicked down so hard. They change positions several times, and it looks as if she manages to have an orgasm every single time.
You forward to the end, somehow curious to see Park Jimin’s famous money shot. The last thirty seconds of the video shows Jimin’s tip buried in her pussy as he jerks off furiously, sweat shining on his abs as he grunts. Sana is egging him on, asking him to cum inside her, and Jimin complies with a groan, giving a few thrusts with his hips as white liquid begins to seep out around Sana’s pussy. You recognise it immediately as the fake stuff even as Jimin thrusts a few times to make it more realistic, before pulling out. The camera switches angles to focus on his fingers that are pulling her lips apart, exposing her to the camera as he leisurely plays with the fake cum, licking his lips and following the stream of cum with his eyes as it drips from her.
The close up shot of his face doesn’t lie- Park Jimin is one hell of an actor. If he hadn’t told you he was struggling, you’d be entirely fooled by the way he’s kissing Sana’s inner thighs on-screen, post orgasm glow on his rosy cheeks as he praises her for taking his cum so well. Jimin’s face is lit up with reverence and fascination as he runs his fingers through her used cunt, spreading his cum around and using it to rub her clit. The camera then focuses on Sana’s face, gasping and writhing from Jimin’s fingers, but the sound of his voice telling her to cum like the dirty girl she is, suck up all his cum deep inside where it belongs, steals your attention.
You can’t help but start to fan yourself. The soothing lilt of Jimin’s baritone voice is enough to make you feel like he’s actually talking to you right through the screen. With Sana’s face cut off from the frame, it’s easy to just close your eyes and immerse yourself in his praise, like some kind of ASMR porn. Your panties are unbelievably sticky. Now you know just why Park Jimin is an A lister, not because of his good looks or just Lady Luck smiling down on him, or god forbid, his not-as-small-as-you-thought dick. He is truly talented, he works hard, and he knows he’s good at what he does.
As much as you hate to admit it. But you are a person who gives credit where credit is due.
If what he says is true- that partnering with you will go a long way in helping his performance- then you wonder just how well this man can fuck. But yet… collaborating with him would mean having to deal with his insufferable cockiness, not to mention that you’ve already seen enough of him to last a lifetime by now.
But the stickiness between your thighs that just begs for your attention conjures up the filthiest, nastiest thoughts of what it would be like for Jimin to actually say all those things to you. Since everyone says he’s just that good at his job, why shouldn’t you test him out for yourself to see if he really lives up to his name? It’ll be like test driving a car with no intention to buy it whatsoever. Or just going to the showroom for the free biscuits and coffee. No commitment, no getting involved, nothing.
Easy as pie.
A part of you hesitates as you reach for your phone, fingers hovering over the send button long after you’ve typed out your message. Indecision has always been your weak spot.
Oh fuck it, what’s the worst that could happen? You hit the button and send the message to your manager before giving in to temptation and reaching for the rarely used vibrator that you stash away at the corner of your desk drawer.
Tell Park I’m in.
“Mr Park will see you now,” the receptionist gestures you toward a meeting room down the hallway, and you have to force yourself to aim a friendly smile at her instead of just turning right around and leaving immediately.
After having been made to wait a good ten minutes past the agreed meeting time- you can see through the damn meeting room’s glass doors that Jimin is just twiddling his thumbs, doing absolutely nothing at all- you utterly regret your decision. You should never have agreed to work with this prideful asshole.
Park Jimin is absolutely obnoxious. You’ll bet a hundred bucks that he told the poor receptionist to quote that line from Fifty Shades.
“Well well well… look who we have here,” Jimin grins smugly from his seat when you enter, legs spread wide so that your eyes are forced to take in the broad expanse of his well-muscled thighs and slowly travel up… up to-
Already beyond annoyed that you had to come all the way here- your number one rule when it comes to men and business is to let them come to you- you plop yourself down on the plush sofa, feeling out of place in your denim skirt and white shirt. Jimin, as usual, is dressed to the nines, white dress pants stretched tight over his thighs, and his light blue shirt draping slightly off one shoulder.
“What made you change your mind?” Jimin twirls a pen with interest as he crosses one leg over the other, nodding his thanks when a man clad in a full suit sets a tray with tea and coffee on the table. “Let me guess. I’ll bet it was my dick. It was, wasn’t it?”
This man is so full of himself, it makes your temples pound immediately. Yet, you can’t bring yourself to disagree entirely, even as you try not to gape at how luxurious Jimin’s label company is. This entire room alone is bigger than your company’s entire office, and you’ve most certainly never been served tea and biscuits at a contract negotiation before.
“I’m…” you fumble around for a plausible excuse to feed him even as you panic a little. “I’m adopting a cat!”
Jimin’s brows furrow in slight confusion. “O-ookay?”
You want to kick yourself. When you go home today, you need to write out a list of excuses to use in a pinch when cocky bastards ask if you like their dicks. Jimin looks amused as he raises his eyebrows, that stupid infuriating smirk telling you that he sees through your excuse as if it’s nothing but cling wrap. But you’ve made your bed. And now you have to lie in it. “A-and I figured the extra money couldn’t hurt.”
“How much money does one need to adopt a cat?” Jimin queries, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees now. The stupid little punk has a tiny smirk on his lips, but his eyes seem as if he is genuinely curious.
“It’s a… a very expensive cat, a purebred,” you say defensively. You’re just pulling all this out of your ass now, but you can’t, refuse to back down. “He’s gonna need lots of vet checks and toys and um… cat things.”
“Cat things. Right. Very expensive, those. I would know, since I know pussies very intimately.” Jimin nods, the corners of his lips twitching as he struggles to fight back a grin.
“You told her to say that, didn’t you,” you accuse him, desperate to change the subject. “On purpose, just to annoy me.”
Jimin merely raises his brows, taking a slow sip of his tea and staring at you from over the rim of his cup. Stupid, cocky, obnoxious, handsome bastard.
You roll your eyes and tilt your chin toward the reception. “’Mr Park will see you now’.”
Jimin’s eyes light up with mirth immediately as he sets his cup down, licking his lips, feigning innocence. Or ignorance. Or both. “I’m not sure what you mean by that... she is a receptionist, and that is her job, so I’m not sure why you’d think-”
“You were waiting in here doing nothing for ten minutes!” You finally explode, pointing a finger at him. “I fucking saw you through the glass door!”
Jimin seems to be utterly amused by your explosive anger, and he only shrugs nonchalantly. He has this stupid shit eating grin on his face as he revels in your irritation.
“Ah yes, that. I was meditating, you see. Very good way of calming the mind and the body,” Jimin is still grinning from ear to ear as he twiddles his thumbs. “Speaking of, you might want to try it yourself. Maybe you can get rid of some of that... pent up anger.”
You are still fuming at him, grabbing a biscuit off the plate and popping it into your mouth, chewing silently for a few minutes as you continue to seethe. Jimin admits you look cute like this- cheeks puffed out from chewing- bickering with you is actually fun, and it’s entertaining to see how easily he can rile you up.
Jimin silently praises himself for coming up with that idea, beyond pleased that Sandra came through as promised- if only he could have seen the look on your face when she said that to you.
He clears his throat, resting his arms on his knees and lacing his fingers together. “Anyway, before you sign anything, I just wanted you to know what you’re getting yourself into.”
Immediately, you narrow your eyes in suspicion, turning your knees away from his lewd gaze as he eats up the expanse of your legs with his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I’m sure you know by now, after much… research,” Jimin pauses to lick his lips- that bastard knows exactly what he’s insinuating- as he uncrosses his legs. “You’ll know all about my style, and I guess you could call it a brand that I made for myself. Mainly I do submissive and occasionally softcore dom-“
“Wait, what?” You nearly spit out your coffee. Images of your late night ‘research’ session assault you, and although you would never admit it, Park Jimin is anything but submissive and softcore dom. You remember being awed at his hidden strength as he tosses his girls around, bending them into positions that give the camera the best view, almost felt the stinging sensation of his spanks on your own ass, the sharp bite of his teeth sinking into your own skin, marking you all over. His girls end up thoroughly fucked and marked, and his trademark is that his videos always end with a leaking pussy. Jimin likes to play around with the cunts that he’s fucked, tongue lingering teasingly around his girls’ inner thighs, almost but never quite coming close to licking up the mess that he just made. The video would always cut to black in a very unsatisfying manner, and that’s how you found yourself clicking from one video to another in the hopes of finding one where he actually eats his own cum. Or the fake cum, that is.
“You? Submissive? Softcore?” You nearly snort with laughter. “Maybe in your next lifetime, Park-“
The shit eating grin that spreads across his face lets you know that you’ve been caught red handed. Park Jimin pushes himself off his seat to join you on the sofa, crowding into your space as he sits so close to you that his thigh brushes yours. One arm goes around the back of the sofa to curl around you, and the other casually rests on your bare knee. His agonizingly plump lips just brush against the shell of your ear. “Caught you, princess. Been watching my videos? No wonder you look like you didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“I wasn’t- I just…” words elude you for the nth time today, and a bubble of frustration rises in your chest. Just what is it about this man that makes you so tongue tied, when usually you have no problem saying whatever comes to mind?
“What if I told you I’ve watched every single one of your videos too?” Jimin’s lips ghost across your cheek, following your jawline. “And I like the ones where it’s just you on camera. Your lips sucking my cock, eyes tearing up because I’m fucking your mouth so good. Your pussy getting creamed and filled up so that it leaks everywhere. Your ass bouncing on my cock while you whine and moan because you’re just that. fucking. tight.”
You do all you can to keep your breathing level, even though your body reacts instinctively to his words just as it had the night before. The tone of his voice, the filth that spews from his sweet plush lips awakens your lust once more, lust that you spent the better part of last night trying to quench. The difference is, this time Park Jimin is actually here whispering these words into your ear and you can reach out and just-
His thigh feels like steel under your touch. You slide your fingers up till you almost reach the apex as his breaths on your neck cause your nipples to harden and ache for his tongue.
Abruptly, Jimin draws away with a satisfied smirk on his lips. “There. I think I gave you just a tiny little taste of the weeks to come hmm? Now, let’s go over the contract together, shall we?”
The contract ended up to be pretty standard, nothing you’ve never seen before, except for the exclusive part. You’re bound to Jimin for three shoots exclusively, and over the span of these shoots, you’re not allowed to take on any other projects, and neither is he. As for the actual script and content of each shoot, Jimin left it open to negotiation. But having spent the past few years doing every single porn cliché imaginable, you’re pretty much fresh out of ideas and don’t really mind leaving it up to Jimin, as long as he runs it through you for your approval first. A part of you is actually even a little curious to see what he can cook up that he hasn’t already done.
And with that, you’d just entered an exclusive contract with your nemesis, the man you swore you’d never fuck. He’d turned you down all those years ago and left you high and dry, what’s to say that he won’t do the same again this time? For years after you’d cringe at yourself when you look in the mirror, forced yourself to fight through the crippling panic attacks before every single shoot as his words come to mind again and again.
Everyone is their own worst critic, but your own self-degradation is only bolstered by the ghost of his words uttered when you were at your lowest. Even the memory of letting someone see you at your most desperate and dire causes a physical shudder to run through your body. Never again will you be in such a position.
But at least now if he decides to revert back to his arrogant self again, you’ll be protected by the contract you signed. You’ll make sure to sue his balls off.
When Jimin emails you the first script, you’re too shocked for words when you read through it. It’s nothing he’s ever done before, at least not from what you remember. The premise is you as a high end prostitute being rented out exclusively by CEO Jimin, only he’s found out that you’ve been seeing other customers behind his back. His lines are definitely not soft-core, nowhere near it. It is degrading, slightly humiliating, and there is plenty of name calling.
Just the thought of letting Jimin have the upper hand in this scene brings back all the unpleasant memories, and bile threatens to rise in your throat. It seems like he wasn’t joking when he said he likes to dominate his girls. You know you could always just write him back and tell him that it’s too much, too fast for you. While Jimin might be an insufferable bastard with the biggest ego you’ve ever seen, he isn’t unprofessional. He’ll change the script if you tell him to, no questions asked.
But a stubborn part of you is desperate to prove to him that the events of five years ago no longer hold any power over you. To show him, and maybe yourself too, that you’ve long ago moved on from it. You don’t want to run from it anymore, and the best way to do it would be to accept this script, willingly put yourself in a subservient position below the man who’d rejected and humiliated you all those years ago.
You sigh and reach for a bottle of wine before you read any further. Why can’t moving past trauma be as easy as finishing an entire bottle of wine by yourself?
Nursing a glass of wine, you read on. The kinks… oh god. Spanking, for one. There’s also a part where you’re required to do a lapdance for him, accompanied with stripping. As you read through both your parts, you try and visualise the entire scene in your head. There’s no way you’ll be able to dance confidently, that’s for sure. The rest of it is a slight stretch, but for now that’s the only change you want to make, and you type back a brief line to Jimin.
And then, there’s nothing left to do but search for strip tease videos and learn the heck out of them.
Doing a shoot with Park Jimin has its perks.
Proper make-up artists, for one. And an actual chair to sit in while your hair and makeup gets done professionally. There’s even a manicurist on call who gives you a quick touch up when she sees your bare nails. And the wardrobe… usually the lingerie that gets shoved at you is two sizes too small, scratchy and doesn’t fit well, and even once or twice looks like it hasn’t been washed. But today the stylists prepared a custom fit scarlet lace bralette that supports you just right, enhancing your natural cleavage and making you more confident than you’ve ever been about your tits. The lace of it just skims your waist, accentuating the petite curve of it, while the low rise panties come with matching garters. You’re also given a black lace see through cardigan to drape over your shoulders, and overall the entire outfit is very tasteful, very much your style of not exposing too much skin.
As you sit in the chair and go over the script one last time, you can’t help but feel the nerves right in the pit of your stomach. The makeup artists are working their magic on you, transforming you into an entirely different person altogether, so when you look at yourself in the mirror, it feels foreign. After they’re done, you ask to be left alone just for a moment so you can calm yourself down.
“Hey… how’re you doing?” Wendy approaches you and places her hands on your shoulders from behind. “Okay? Nervous?”
You put on a brave smile for her, meeting her eyes in the mirror. “No, not nervous. I mean, maybe a little.”
“It’s normal,” she reassures you, kneading your shoulders to get at the tense knots. “You’ve never done something so… intense. Actually, I was surprised you even accepted it in the first place.”
You give her a muted shrug as you focus on looking through your script. You haven’t seen Jimin since stepping on set, assuming that he is off somewhere also getting his hair and makeup done.
The director’s assistant pops her head in soon after to let you know that it’s time for the preliminary lighting checks. Placing your script on the table in front of you, you take a deep breath, meeting your own eyes in the mirror once more before sliding your feet into your four inch black heels that you’d been given and making your way to the main set area.
Today’s set is simple- what looks like the interior of a bachelor’s pad. The first scene takes place in the living room over the sofa, and you wait awkwardly by the side for the director’s cue. You notice Jimin laughing and joking with him from afar, giving him a brief side hug before he notices you staring at him and makes his way over.
“Morning,” your co-star greets you with a lazy half smile, and you wobble on your heels, nearly twisting an ankle. Irritated with yourself, you bite your lip hard.
Jimin reaches out to steady you with his hands on your waist through the flimsy material of your cardigan, and when he sees what you’re wearing, he raises an eyebrow in approval. He doesn’t take his hands off your waist, seeing it fit to pull you into his body so that you can feel his hips against yours. You can feel the ice cold metal of his rings on your skin, and it makes you shiver. Jimin doesn’t look all that different since he is wearing a suit, but his hair is slicked back and his makeup dark and smouldering. He exudes an aura of power and control.
“Morning,” you mutter back, taking a step away from him and averting your gaze to calm your racing heart.
Jimin lets you go with a chuckle, but then he glances down at your heels. “Are those bothering you? You should take them off if it’s uncomfortable.”
A little taken aback at his sudden concern, you glance down at your feet. “It’s fine. Maybe later, during the strip tease. For this scene I won’t really be standing much anyway.”
Jimin hums an agreement as he absent mindedly plays with his rings, briefly directing his attention to the set technicians as they adjust the lighting and check the camera angles. Having his eyes off you sets you at ease a little, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding, causing Jimin to turn to you.
“You look a little tense,” he comments, noting your crossed arms and hunched shoulders. “Was there anything else you wanted me to change in the script? I’m still open to last minute changes. Don’t force yourself to do anything you’re not comfortable with. I’m serious about that, I’ll handle everything with the director, so don’t hesitate.”
At the mention of the director, you turn your head toward where he is currently surrounded by a few script writers. This director is known for being short tempered and very direct, although of course Jimin has an excellent relationship with him. The director probably doesn’t even know who you are, doesn’t care about a nobody like you.
“Nothing?” Jimin raises his eyebrows. “Last chance to cop out before you forget everything but my name.”
The bastard is grinning like a Cheshire cat now, and in spite of your nerves, it actually sets you at ease to see Jimin acting the way you’ve always known him to be.
“Please. I think it’s you who should be nervous,” you roll your eyes at him, glancing at his crotch pointedly. The material of his dress pants are dark so you can’t really tell if he’s hard or not. “Little Park up to the task today? Or maybe you need me to flash you first? Are you gonna cum once you see my tits?”
The back and forth banter feels familiar. It feels right.
“Are you offering a sneak peek? I’m not in a position to turn that down, although…” Jimin actually reaches forward to grab your hand and pull it to his crotch, and you gasp when you’re met with his semi-erect state. “I’ll make you eat your words today.”
The playful glint in his eyes makes you forget about everything you were nervous about.
“Maybe you should have written in some against the wall action,” you direct your gaze down to his covered thighs. “Your thighs and ass look like they need some work.”
Jimin just laughs as if the thought had never occured to him before. He does suppose his ass has got a little flat recently... and Jimin can think of more than one way to get his famous bubble butt back. One that involves you being naked, on his back while he does some squats.
“You’ll be seeing plenty of my ass and thighs, I assure you,” he lowers his voice as his lips brush against the shell of your ear.
One of the assistant producers directs you on set, and you walk ahead of Jimin and take up your opening position against the back of the sofa. Jimin follows and crowds up against you, every inch of his body against yours as you spread your thighs to accommodate him. He presses his nose into the crook of your neck, his hand running up your side and lifting your cardigan so that your ass is exposed. He cups your cheek with his other hand, and up close like this, it’s actually quite magical to witness Park Jimin getting into character.
All traces of humour and boyish playfulness fades, and in its place is a poker face: eyes hard and unforgiving, jaw clenched with a muscle that jumps in his cheek. His grip around your waist is punishing and no doubt leaving finger marks, yet the way he strokes your cheek is completely opposite; a gentle caress with his thumb on your chin, playing with your bottom lip. Your heart skips a beat from how cold his gaze is.
The director gives his approval for the cameras to start rolling. “Scene one, action!”
“My favourite whore,” Jimin mumbles with a slow smile, eyes dipping down to appreciate your cleavage from his vantage point. His hand leaves your cheek to tangle in your hair, giving it a few firm tugs as the camera focuses on your side profiles. “I’ve missed that mouth of yours around my cock so much.”
He reaches to push the lace cardigan off your shoulders, and it falls to your feet, exposing you to the camera and also to his gaze. Wearing a devious smirk, you let one bra strap fall off your shoulder. “I missed you too, Mr Park.”
“Oh really?” He comments with a raised eyebrow when the other strap falls down too, and you lean forward to show off your cleavage to the camera circling the both of you. “Then maybe you’d care to explain why one of my acquaintances just bragged to me mere hours ago about fucking that sweet pussy of yours?”
As the script calls, you freeze immediately in his gaze. But there is no need for you to put on any sort of pretense, because the look on Jimin’s face is enough to make your heart skip a few beats. He looks genuinely displeased, unimpressed with the little show you’re putting on for him that it makes you doubt if you’re doing a good job at playing the sultry prostitute or not.
He makes his way over to the couch, sitting with his thighs spread, motioning you to stand in between them.
“I-I wasn’t, Mr Park, I just-“
“Save it, dollface,” he waves your excuse away with a disappointed sigh. His eyes travel the length of your body passively. “The terms and conditions of being my whore were clear, were they not? Surely even a slut that’s as cock hungry as you would understand how many girls out there would kill to be my personal fuck toy. I don’t share my toys, and I don’t fuck sloppy seconds either.”
Jimin waits a beat or two before he continues, his voice now a low growl. “Take your panties off, turn around, and bend over. I want to see your pussy.”
Trembling in your heels, you do as he says, inching the lace fabric down over your hips as the camera relocates behind you. The humiliation that burns on your cheeks is real even though you keep reminding yourself that it’s just a scene. You bend over so that your chest touches your thighs, putting yourself fully on display for him. You can only imagine what kind of view the camera; and by extension, Jimin, is getting now.
“Spread your lips with your fingers. Let me see inside,” he demands, and you reach back to pull apart your already damp pussy lips with both hands.
“Look at that,” Jimin marvels. “Didn’t even bother to clean up before you came over to fuck me. What a fucking cumslut you are, you let him cum in your pussy? You think you could fool me? Make me take disgusting sloppy seconds?”
There is a hitch in your breath when Jimin goes slightly off script, mentioning cum that isn’t in your pussy. Thankfully you aren’t too far gone to think on your feet. “N-no Sir! I made him use a condom.”
A sudden sharp sting on your ass elicits a cry from you.
“It still doesn’t excuse your behaviour. In case you forgot, I’ll remind you again. Your. Pussy. Is. Mine.” Jimin punctuates each word with a slap, causing you to wobble on your heels as your walls clench around nothing. “Dripping for me already?”
You can feel your pussy start to drip down your inner thighs, and a blush heats up your cheeks involuntarily.
“Why don’t you get on my thigh and show me how sorry you are, and maybe I’ll consider letting you suck my cock. And lose the bra.”
Scrambling to kick off your underwear, you turn around to face Jimin again, and he is leaning back against the sofa, a proud smirk on his lips as he spreads his thighs invitingly. You manage to take a few steps towards him before Jimin grabs your waist and pulls you down, situating his firm, thick thigh right against your bare center. Embarrassingly, you can feel yourself start to soak through his dress pants almost immediately as he watches your chest heave with an unimpressed raise of his eyebrow.
Jimin tugs down the lace cups of your bra to expose your breasts, pinching your nipples harshly. “What’s a slut like you doing wearing underwear? Cumwhores like you should go around with a bare pussy, since you like cock so much, hmmm? Don’t you think?”
With his hands around your hips securing you on his lap, Jimin makes eye contact with you for a brief second to check your reaction. Imperceptibly, his thumb brushes against your skin softly, and the touch reassures you that it’s all just for the camera, and you relax slightly.
“Yes, sir,” you whisper as you arch your hips up, showing the camera your pussy and Jimin’s soaked lap.
“Good girl, now grind like you mean it,” Jimin spits onto your right nipple, watching perversely as his saliva drips over your erect bud, soaking the red lace.
With a moan, you begin to work your hips against his thigh, feeling his muscles tense to give you just the right amount of friction. Your clit rubs against him just right, and Jimin reaches down to spank your ass before he gropes it lewdly.
“That’s it… fuck, I knew a whore like you’d be good at this. Show me how much you want my cock. Look at your dirty pussy, you made such a mess of me.” He spreads your ass cheeks apart to show the camera your tight asshole, and you lift your hips for a moment to grant your poor clit some reprieve before you cum prematurely like a rookie. Jimin reprimands you with a sharp slap. “Did I say you could stop, whore?”
With a barely concealed whimper, you lower your cunt onto his thigh and start to grind again, but Jimin shoves you off roughly, and you land on the couch with your thighs spread, pussy already red and swollen. Jimin pushes himself to his feet with a disappointed sigh as he looks at you, utterly unimpressed as he delivers a spank to your clit, followed by three more. You sob and cry for mercy, thighs quivering as you jerk and wriggle on the couch, trying to close your legs.
“Keep your fucking legs spread, or I’ll have to tie you to a spreader bar,” Jimin growls as he digs his nails into the soft flesh of your inner thigh. His eyes are hard, cruel and cold as he spanks you a few more times. “Sluts like you should know how to keep their legs spread right?”
“Please, Sir, please,” you pant and whine, tears gathering in the corner of your eyes as he soothes the crescent shaped indents with a caress.
“Give me one reason why you deserve my cock. A dirty little whore like you who fucks every man she meets.” Jimin slaps your clit again before spitting at it in disgust. You can feel his saliva on your clit, dripping down over your slit. “That’s all you are; a desperate, cock hungry slut.”
“M-make it yours,” you gasp, thighs trembling in Jimin’s grasp even as your breath comes in uneven heaves, cheeks burning in humiliation that is all too real. “Make my cunt yours, Sir.”
“Should I?” Jimin pretends to consider for a moment, and the ice cold sensation of his rings against your skin are the only thing keeping you sane right now. Your cunt is throbbing, desperate for any kind of relief, you are covered in sweat, tears and Jimin’s spit, utterly wrecked and he hasn’t even taken off a single article of clothing yet. “We’ll see how well you suck cock, whore. Get up.”
“And cut!” The director calls an end to the first scene, and Jimin immediately releases his grip on your thighs.
The director’s voice is like a wakeup call, and you take in the sight of the cameras and crew surrounding you with a renewed clarity. The cut came at a good time; for a moment there you almost forgot that this is merely a scene from a porn script, and it’s never happened to you before. Your breaths are coming in harsh pants and you recognise that you are about to hyperventilate if you don’t regulate your breathing soon.
You push yourself to a seating position and close your thighs, taking a moment to regain your senses as Jimin crouches in front of you. He is fussing with a tissue at your tearstained cheeks even though there are two make-up artists hovering behind him, and you are thrown off by this 180 degree change.
“I didn’t hurt you did I?” Jimin frowns as he glances at your thighs. “I cut my nails this morning, but…”
“I’m fine,” your voice is wobbly as you push his hand away and get to your feet, stepping around him and letting the makeup artists do their thing. Letting your impeccable mask slide back into place as the tears are sponged off your face. A few swipes of a brush here and there, and they step back. And you are good as new. No sign whatsoever to indicate that you were this close to almost breaking into tears.
Jimin is still way too close for comfort, you feel as if having him look at you up close like this is enough for him to realise how affected you were by that scene. And that’s not something you’re willing to divulge just yet.
Jimin looks as if he’s about to protest, but then the director cuts in, ordering everyone to move to the bedroom for the next scene. You start to walk towards the set, but Jimin stops you with a hand on your wrist.
“Hey, look at me. Are you okay? I need to know before we go any further,” his grip on you is insistent as he pins you in place with his eyes. “This is a rough scene and I need you to tell me when you need a break or if it gets too much.”
Jimin is genuinely concerned as he searches your expression, refusing to relinquish his grip on you till you give him an answer. He doesn’t seem to care that the director is left waiting on the new set; all his attention is focused on you only.
“The dialogue was a little much,” you admit as you look away from him, crossing your arms over your naked chest self-consciously. The thought of admitting just how much it affected you nearly makes you sick to your stomach. “But it’s fine. I just need to get used to it.”
Jimin releases a breath as he nods to himself. “Good. And also- I should have asked you this earlier, but my partners and I have a signal we use for each other during scenes to act as a non-verbal safeword. Are you familiar with that kind of practice?”
You hesitate a little before answering, since it’s hard to reconcile this Jimin with the domineering, cold man just moments ago. Also, you’ve never done shoots that even came close to requiring such a protocol. “No. I can’t say I’m very familiar with that.”
“Just touch my earlobe once if you need to slow down. Twice to stop completely.” He says as he begins to lead you to the bedroom. “In my shoots, my girls have all the power. Just one word from them and everything stops. I’m serious, ______.”
Thrown off by how seriously he takes all this, you take a seat on the foot of the bed first. Hearing him refer to you as ‘his girl’ admittedly makes you a little giddy, and what makes it worse is when Jimin kneels down between your thighs with one hand stroking your knee, eyes fixed on you intently as he studies your expression. You’d never expected this degree of attention and concern from your co-star, but it seems as if your pre-conceived notions about Park Jimin may have been wrong.
You’re aware that every single pair of eyes in the room is on you, waiting for your signal to go ahead. Suddenly you don’t feel like the no-name extra on set any more like you’re used to. Even the director himself looks concerned as he strides over to check if everything is alright, calling over a few scriptwriters too. It’s clear that they are all waiting for your approval to go ahead, and you just barely hear Jimin’s voice when he checks in with you.
“Hey, you okay? Get her some water,” he says to an assistant, but you wave her away.
“I’m fine, it’s fine,” you scramble to reassure everybody. “We can continue, really. I’m good.”
“You sure?” Jimin confirms one last time, and you reply with a nod. Then, all the crew and the director return to their assigned spots, and you shift off the bed onto your knees to prepare for the next scene.
Jimin positions himself in front of you so that his crotch is directly at eye level, and you realise that he’s only half hard. It must have been all the delay in between scenes, but when you consider helping him out, Jimin looks down at you, and you can feel his eyes appraising every inch of your body.
“You look so good down there on your knees. Can I?” Jimin palms himself with one hand and the other reaches down, gently cupping your breast when you nod.
The cameras aren’t even rolling yet, and the director is busy checking some camera angle, so you whisper-hiss at Jimin, “what are you doing?”
“What does it look like?” He shrugs nonchalantly, rolling a nipple between his fingers and tugging at it, letting it go to watch how your breast bounces. “I’m getting myself hard. Usually I’d sneak a pill right about now, but with you around I don’t think I need it. Maybe you’re my Viagra.”
“Gee, thanks, what an honour,” you grumble under your breath, but you can’t really complain because his warm hands feel quite nice on your skin. The air conditioning is ramped up on set, so your skin feels a little chilly, but Jimin continues to massage and tweak your nipples, and you can feel yourself start to drip onto the floor, shifting from your position to rub your thighs together.
His knowing, cocky grin irks the shit out of you as he switches to the other breast, abandoning his grip on his dick to push both tits together as he admires your cleavage. “Y’know, I think I’ll write in some titty fucking in the next one. What do you think about that?”
“Let’s see if you even have that much dick first,” you quip back at him just as the director calls for everyone to be on standby.
“Rolling for scene two, let’s go!”
Immediately Jimin’s face shuts down into a cold, sombre expression as he slaps your breasts hard. You feel the heavy weight of them swinging under his gaze as he buries one hand into the hair at the base of your neck as he tugs your head up to look at him.
“Take me out. No hands, use that filthy mouth of yours, whore,” Jimin’s voice is bone-chillingly sharp, and you rush to do as he says.
Undoing his dress pants and dragging down his zipper with your teeth is something you’re practically an expert at, having done it for practically every single shoot since you started porn. It’s part of the niche that you carved for yourself as the innocent, angel incarnate. You can tell that Jimin is slightly surprised at how fast you are and how easily you drag his pants down to reveal his fully hard cock by the slight widening of his eyes before he covers it up by slapping his cock against your cheek, leaving a sticky trail of precum.
You can see the pleasure in his face when he drags his cock all over your face, ruining your makeup as he slaps his cock against your cheek several times. You open your mouth for him, showing him your tongue as Jimin buries his cock into your mouth at an angle, pushing against the side of your mouth and thrusting a few times so that your cheek protrudes obscenely. Then he lies his dick on the centre of your face so that your mouth touches his balls and his tip is leaking onto your forehead, precum dripping down your skin. This is ultimate degradation, your face is used as nothing but a bed for his cock.
“Lick my balls like the cockslut you are. Don’t miss a single inch, bitch.”
You comply and lave his balls with your tongue reverently, taking them into your mouth as Jimin spreads his thighs for the camera to get a good view. You take one of them into your mouth and suck on it, wishing you could play with the other one with your hands. He feels big in your mouth, heavy on your tongue as you roll him around, coating his balls in saliva. Jimin pulls your head away and pushes his cockhead against your lips, demanding you to open up for him.
You part your lips and he slides in almost immediately, sinking all the way into your throat without a warning. He may not be as big as some of your other co-stars you’ve had before, but damn is he thick. Your eyes water immediately and you gag a little, to which Jimin grunts in approval as he strokes your cheek.
“Choking already? Shouldn’t a whore like you do better than that? Show me how well you can suck dick, I know you’re better than this.”
You glance up to meet Jimin’s eyes directly- with the camera focusing on your face, Jimin lets his stone cold expression loosen a little as he raises an eyebrow- issuing you a direct challenge. Somehow the mischievous spark in his eyes motivates you to reduce him to nothing but a whining, moaning mess just with your mouth, so you force down your gag reflex and start sucking him as if your life depends on it.
Spit and saliva is everywhere- all over his dick, covering your chin, dripping down to your breasts- but you don’t give in as you deepthroat him completely, swallowing a few times before pulling back and running your tongue along the veins of his cock. Jimin is so thick that your jaw actually starts to ache, but a tiny little flicker in his expression when you let his head touch the back of your throat spurs you on. Somewhere in the distance you can hear the director’s approval, but all you can concentrate on is the sloppy sounds emanating from your own mouth, and Jimin’s dark, heady gaze trained on you as he supports your head with his hand, gathering your hair into a messy ponytail.
He is biting his lip hard, a surefire sign that you’re affecting him at least a little bit. Jimin, for his part, is doing his best to fuck your throat evenly and keep his expression unreadable, but when your throat closes and grips his dick, he has to pull you off his cock before he loses his load way too early.
Jimin can see the look of triumph on your face as you pant for air, lipstick smeared around your lips and mascara running down your cheeks. He grips his dick at the base hard, breathing heavily for a few moments to regain control before he bends down to grab you by the waist, tossing you onto the bed.
“Arch for me,” Jimin whispers just under his breath, palm smoothing along the dip in your back. There is a grunt of approval when you push your ass out for his viewing pleasure. “I knew you were good with that mouth, but your punishment isn’t over yet, baby.”
A visible shudder runs throughout your entire frame at the unexpected nickname, exacerbated by the way Jimin strokes the small of your back almost reverently. He spreads your ass cheeks apart to appraise your most intimate parts, and he chuckles when he sees your dripping pussy.
“So here’s what’s going to happen next,” Jimin palms a handful of your ass as he strokes his dick with the other. “I’m going to spank this pretty ass, and you’re not allowed to make a single noise. If you do, there will be consequences.”
Your cheek against the mattress, ass up high for Jimin, you can feel yourself start to drip down your thigh. “Wh-what consequences, Sir?”
Jimin makes no answer, but suddenly you feel the blunt head of his cock against your unlubed asshole, and you pretend to whine and wriggle away from his grasp.
“No, Sir please, please not there,” you are struggling as Jimin grips your waist and pulls you against him just as the script calls for.
“It starts now, slut. Every little noise you make means one inch in your tight ass.” Jimin pulls your cheeks apart to see the head of his cock pressed against your asshole, and he delivers a slap to your right cheek before he leans down so that his tongue traces your earlobe. “I’ll go up to fifteen today, I think. And as much as I’d like to tear that pretty ass open… I’d advise you to keep quiet, dollface.”
Jimin has one hand on the base of his cock, the other alternating between your left and right cheeks, so that your skin burns a bright red with every strike. You can feel Jimin actually putting in his full effort with every slap, not the kind of half-hearted pretending that you’re used to with your co-stars. On his seventh slap you can’t help but cry out into the sheets, the burn on your skin radiating right down to your clit, and Jimin clucks his tongue in disappointment.
“We were so close too…” Jimin sighs as he taps his cock few times at your tight entrance, and you sob in response, clenching your muscles automatically. You can feel Jimin chuckle in amusement as he draws his cock away for a brief moment, and you hear him spit, before feeling a wet and warm substance drip down your asshole. He spreads it around a little with the head of his cock, and despite your scripted pleas and cries, Jimin pushes his cock into your barely lubed ass.
“How’s that feel, slut?” He murmurs as he caresses your bright red and sore ass.
All you have is his saliva and precum lubing you up, but it doesn’t hurt as much as you thought it would. You can feel Jimin’s tender touches on your waist as his way of checking in with you, and the minute action sets you at ease even though you can’t see or touch him to activate your safeword.
“It-it hurts, Sir,” your voice is a low sob as you bury your cheek into the soft bedding, amidst all your arousal, it’s a wonder how you can still remember your lines.
“Then you’ll keep that slutty mouth of yours shut the next time,” Jimin responds with another strike, and this time he can feel the way your muscles clench around his cock, and he swears under his breath, grabbing a handful of your ass to keep him grounded. “Fuck, I can feel your tight little ass around my cock. What a disgusting whore you are, so desperate to get fucked up the ass, hmm?”
Jimin spits again, and his saliva lands right on his cock buried in your ass. He withdraws the tip just a little to work his spit into your ass, as he delivers more spanks. You manage to bite back your cries until the twelfth strike, where you barely whimper against the sheets, but Jimin’s keen ears pick it up. His hips work to drive his cock another inch into your ass, spreading your cheeks apart so that the camera captures every sordid detail.
His cock isn’t the biggest you’ve ever taken, but having him slowly go deeper into your ass like this somehow makes it feel as if he’s stretching you out so good. Your muscles are trembling and you can barely remember to keep your back arched for the camera and Jimin, but if he feels this big in your ass only two inches in, how is he going to feel when he’s balls deep? You clench involuntarily around him on that thought, and a part of you is tempted to just fuck the script and make him bury himself inside your ass fully.
Jimin completes the fifteen slaps sooner than you would have liked, and he rewards you with a kiss between your shoulder blades as he smooths his hands over your ass, pulling his dick out slowly to watch your ass gape for him and the camera.
“Fuck, that’s so hot. Turn around and legs spread, whore, I want to fuck you now,” Jimin climbs onto the bed on his knees, hand on his cock guiding himself to your soaked entrance.
His hands grip the back of your knees, forcing your thighs apart for him as he sinks his cock into your pussy. The burn of his penetration nearly makes your eyes roll back into your head- the satisfying girth of him stretches you wide in ways that you’ve never felt before. Jimin works his way deep into your pussy with small strokes, finally bottoming out with your legs on his shoulders and his balls against your ass.
“How are you so fucking tight still? After fucking so many men,” Jimin grunts as he secures your thighs against his chest, leaning over your body and folding you in half. “How many cocks have you had other than mine? Answer me!”
His mouth is against your neck, teeth sinking into your flesh as he marks you. Between his deep thrusts hitting your cervix and his hands around your neck, the cold metal of his rings digging into your skin, it’s all you can do to summon your lines from the recesses of your memory. “Just o-one Sir, I swe-ar, please.”
“Stupid fucking whore,” he growls as he slaps your cheek hard. “How dare you fucking lie to me? Your slutty pussy needs to be stuffed with cock all the time, and you dare tell me you only fucked one other man? I’ll say it was at least five. Five cocks have been in this whore cunt. Tell me, did you make them take turns? Or did you get fucked by two dicks at once?”
“I di-didn’t, please, I’m sorry Sir,” your voice comes in sobs and whines. You scrabble for purchase against his still clothed torso, and you wish you could feel his heated skin under your fingers, mark him with your nails.
“Did you let them cum inside?” Jimin demands again, drawing back and pushing your thighs to your chest so that he can see his cock spreading your pussy lips apart, see your tiny little clit practically begging for attention. “Tell me!”
“No, I didn’t,” you answer him immediately, and something about the possessiveness of his voice seems a little too real, the jealous glint in his eyes that fuels his anger sends a very real thrill that sings through your veins. All you can see is his dark eyes as he fucks into you with his cock, and it is a gaze that is all-consuming, a gaze that makes you forget about all the cameras and the crew, erases them from the background until it is just you and him alone.
“Doesn’t matter, I’ll fuck all their cum out of you,” Jimin holds your legs apart as he drives himself deeper into your cunt, stopping when he’s balls deep. “No one can ever fuck you as deep and hard as I can.”
The sounds of skin against skin resonates throughout the set, accompanied by your whines and sobs as Jimin sneaks a hand down to rub your clit even though it isn’t in the script. Caught unaware by his sudden move, it sends you over the edge as you orgasm around him, walls clenching deliciously and body contorting under his grip, screaming his name. He fucks you through your orgasm without missing a beat, and you moan and thrash under his grip from overstimulation, but Jimin only grips your waist with both hands.
“Take it, fucking take my cock, you whore,” he demands as sweat drips down his forehead. “I’m gonna cum so deep inside your pussy, and you’re taking every drop. After that you’re going to walk out of here with cum dripping down your thighs so that everyone knows what a cum slut you are. My favourite little cumslut.”
His thrusts are getting harder and sloppier as a few assistants crowd around behind him, ready to deliver the fake cumshot, but Jimin waves them away impatiently. He can feel his balls churning with the biggest load of his life, and with the camera trained on your bouncing tits, he glances at the director to let him know he’s ready. With the director’s go ahead, he skips to his final few lines just before he cums.
“You ready for my cum, slut? Say it, I want to hear you beg me to cum inside you.” Jimin slaps your cheek once with measured strength. “Fucking beg, or else I’ll finish all over your tits instead.”
“Fuck, no please, don’t cum on my tits,” your mouth is open, clinging on to Jimin’s shoulders as he fucks you into the bed, pounding your cunt with every last bit of strength he has. “In my pussy, please cum in my pussy. I want it, so fucking bad, please sir!”
Jimin is apparently pleased with your begging, and he rewards you with a rare smile, stroking your cheek to soothe the stinging slap he gave you earlier. “Good girl… that’s my cumslut.”
You glance down to where his cock is fucking in and out of your pussy, and Jimin focuses the rest of his attention to hitting you as deep as possible, throwing his head back and letting out a strangled moan as he cums deep inside you, filling you with warm, real cum for the first time in any of your shoots. The real stuff feels so good, so wet and messy, and Jimin’s cock twitching against your walls feels intimate as he thrusts to prolong his orgasm.
From your vantage point you have a front row seat to watch Park Jimin as he revels in his pleasure, and everything from his moans to the way he throws his head back is entirely intoxicating, and you find yourself squeezing your walls around him to prolong his pleasure.
“Fuck, that’s my whore,” he pants as he slowly comes back to his senses, allowing the camera to zoom in on your cunt as he slowly slips out of your used core.
Following the tradition of every one of his videos, Park Jimin gets on his elbows and spreads your pussy lips wide, showing off the globs of real cum that drip from your center as you squeeze your walls to make it even messier. He whispers praise against your skin as he dips two fingers into the unholy mess and coats your clit with it, rubbing you to a final orgasm that makes you whimper and moan, fingers clutching the sheets and hips bucking under his grasp.
“And that’s a cut! Well done everyone!” The director interrupts with a gleeful clapping of his hands, but to your surprise, Jimin doesn’t move from his position between your thighs, not even when his manager comes up behind him with his robe and a bottle of water.
He is still staring at his cum leaking in a steady stream from your pussy, running his fingers through it and playing with your folds with an intrigued look on his face. When you make a move to get up, he glances at you first, then at his manager.
“Hyung, just give me a minute?” Jimin directs this at Sejin, and the older man looks a little confused, but nods and turns away. Around the two of you, all the crew is starting to dismantle the equipment and hurrying around, but Jimin remains focused on you. “Can I?”
“C-can you… what?” Now that the scene is over and the cameras are off, it’s as if the spell has been broken, you are once again self-conscious and all too aware of how vulnerable you seem to be around this man. When Jimin dips his eyes to your pussy and back up to your eyes, your heart nearly stops in your chest. He can’t possibly be… why would he want to…?
“Can I?” Jimin strokes his thumbs against your inner thighs softly, placing a gentle kiss on one side as he licks his lips. “Please? I really want to.”
Breathless, you nod at him, afraid that one more word out of you will make Jimin realise exactly what he’s offering to do, and that he’ll snap out of his lust induced haze. And then gone will be that genuine smile that lights up his entire face, only to be replaced by the condescending smirk that you know all too well.
Jimin starts with wet kisses on both inner thighs, kissing his way to your soaked lips as he begins to gently lick up his spilled cum, gathering it with his fingers to make sure he gets every last drop. This is the scene that you’d been waiting for all this time, clicked through nearly a hundred of his videos in vain. But nothing could compare to seeing it live and up close in person like this. Watching him eat you out when there are no cameras around is strangely intimate, what’s even weirder is the way he maintains eye contact as he continues to suck at your clit, his own cum smeared around his lips as he eats your pussy as if it’s the best dessert in the world.
“Delicious,” he draws back and wipes the back of his mouth with his hand. “Your pussy tastes exactly like how I imagined it. Better with my cum too.”
You clear your throat, still a little sore from deepthroating him earlier as you awkwardly close your legs and scoot away from him, feeling a burning desire to get as far away from this damned man as you can before he sees right through you. “Do you do that with all your co-stars?”
“Would you be jealous if I did?” He shoots you a cocky little wink as he gets to his feet, reaching over to help you up from the bed with his hands around your waist, dipping down to inspect a few bruises on your neck with his fingers. His touches are so gentle and tender that they don’t hurt at all, but you brush him away.
“Jealous? Who? Me?” You laugh it off as Wendy hands you your robe and you snuggle into the warmth of it. As you hide your naked body from his view, your walls come back up, and the defensive mask slides back into place. “You wish, Park. Although I might have to be a little concerned, since fake cum tastes like shit.”
“Well, I wouldn’t know,” he shrugs. “I only eat the real stuff, and it wasn’t bad, for a first taste.”
Jimin lets his eyes linger on yours for a few moments to allow his words sink in before he turns away to pull on a pair of grey sweatpants and perhaps review the footage a little. “Rest well before next week.”
This is just ironic. Plain and simple, Park Jimin is trying to mess with you.
The second script is a cardinal sin. That’s all you can describe it as. Father Park Jimin with a Catholic schoolgirl confessing her sins in a confession booth.
You run your fingers through your hair in distress. Noting that the costume requirements are red plaid skirt and white shirt. As you read through the entire script, it is a short one, but still present are the elements of degradation and humiliation that require you to position yourself as subservient to the man who shattered your hopes and dreams all those years ago.
It must be a coincidence. There’s no way Park Jimin remembers exactly what he said to you all those years ago.
For you, it might have been a life or death experience that remains etched in your memory forever. But for him, it was just another day on another set humiliating some poor rookie.
It’s fine. You did it once before and you survived. So who’s to say you won’t survive this one either? You are stubborn and obstinate, you refuse to write that damn email to Jimin and tell him you can’t do this. So you just have to pussy up and fucking commit to this, dammit. Just two more damn shoots.
You have to give it to him though, he is pretty creative as a scriptwriter himself. Or maybe these are just his lewd fantasises?
Thankfully there’s nothing in this script that requires any preparation, other than learning your lines. Over the next few days as you go about your routine on none schedule days- working out at the gym, indulging in wine and movies, you can’t help but keep the pit of nerves at bay in your stomach. Acknowledging them would give it too much power over you.
When shoot day comes, you nervously change into the outfit provided for you once you reach on set. Donning these clothes bring with them a hoard of heart pounding memories and associations, and it’s all that you can do not to throw up right then and there. You are unusually sweaty as you sit in the chair for hair and makeup.
“Everything okay?” Your makeup artist checks in with you as she powders your nose for the third time. “Nervous?”
You pretend to laugh it off a little. “Yeah, a bit.”
“From what I heard, you and Jimin killed it last shoot,” she grins at you as she replaces the cap on one of her lip glosses. “Don’t need to sweat. Just keep doing whatever you did last time.”
You accept her encouragement with a strained smile even as you stare at yourself in the mirror. From your vantage point, it feels as if you have regressed to that shy, insecure girl from five years ago- you might as well be looking at her now. The same scared expression, except maybe the clothes are better fitting and you’ve definitely grown into your body a little.
“Ready?” The director’s assistant pops her head in with a smile. “We’re all set up and raring to go.”
Shakily, you get up from your chair and follow her with a wobble in your step and an uneven breath. The plaid skirt is tight around your waist and restricts your breathing a little, but you force it to the back of your mind as you see Jimin adjusting his robe. Today he has his hair in a deep side part off his forehead with circle glasses perched at the end of his nose. The rest of him is concealed in long priest robes, and when he spots you, his face lights up.
“______! What do you think of my outfit?” He flourishes his robes and raises his eyebrows. Typical of him to ask someone to tell him how good he looks. Park Jimin looks damn good alright, and he knows it, but it’s not enough unless someone compliments him.
“Very, um… sinful,” you offer him half-heartedly before turning away to let your stylist adjust your hair. You are not in the mood to jibe with him today, even less to stroke his ego.
“What did you think of the script? You didn’t reply to my email, and I realised I don’t have your phone number so I can’t contact you except through your manager, so…” Jimin frowns as he turns to face you. “Ironic, isn’t it?”
His comment catches you off guard. “Wh-what do you mean?”
“Me. Committing a cardinal sin. Like I said all those years ago,” Jimin casually turns to face the set, fluffing his hair with a careless hand. “I’m really getting my just desserts, aren’t I?”
A sharp intake of breath betrays your surprise, and you cross your arms tightly over your chest, wanting so badly to just disappear right at that moment. He remembers? He can’t have. Why would someone like Park Jimin remember some fleeting comment he made about not wanting to fuck a rookie? Sure, it may have cut deep for you, but surely for him it can’t have been that memorable. Is he doing all this just to mess with you? What could he possibly want?
“_____? Why aren’t you saying anything?” Jimin’s expression turns sombre as the cocky look on his face disappears. “Is it the script? Is it too much? I can change it if you need me to-“
“Is this some kind of joke?” You accuse him, deciding to just strike first with aggression rather than risk being ridiculed in front of the entire crew later. “Some kind of sick little torture to recreate… this? For your own twisted pleasure?”
Faced with your overly defensive posture reminds him that he’s not dealing with that girl from five years ago anymore. You have changed, the years hardening you over and coating you in a hard little shell that’s almost impossible to break through. Jimin almost wonders why you always immediately assume that everyone is out to belittle or hurt you, but then he realises with a guilty start that it’s partially his own fault.
Blame it all on the stupid arrogant jerk he was five years ago.
“No, it’s not a joke, and neither is it some petty revenge,” Jimin says as calmly as he can. “I don’t know if its sunken in by now, but I told you before that in my shoots, my girls have all the power. So yes, at surface level it may seem like I’m dominating and humiliating you, but what the camera doesn’t see is that you are the one who controls me. A single word from you and I stop.”
His breath is stuck somewhere in his chest. Never before has he felt so vulnerable in front of someone else. Not only do you seem to throw a wrench in the casual uninterested disposition he’s carved out for himself with it comes to his co-stars, there’s something about the way you truly hold his heart in the palm of your hand, even if you don’t know it yet.
Your eyes are brimming with disbelief, posture still defensive as the director calls for everyone to take their places. But you remain silent, thinking his words over as you heed the instructions given by the crew. Jimin follows you closely till you stop just outside the small wooden confession box.
His hands are slightly sweaty as he steps in front of you. Reaching out slowly, to gauge your reaction, Jimin gently places his hand on your chin to tilt your head up towards him. “I’ve always been a believer in actions speaking louder than words. I know you still think of me as that arrogant small dicked jerk who can’t think about anyone other than himself. But let me prove to you that I’ve changed. That’s why I wrote this scene. I want to show you that you are the one in control of me, not the other way around.”
Looking into your eyes, Jimin can see the residual fear and trauma leftover from that incident all those years ago. Silently he begs for a chance, knowing full well that you could just walk out right now and he can’t do a damn thing. Just one chance for him to remedy his mistakes and prove to you that he’s a changed man.
“Let’s get this over with,” you say as you turn and step inside the box, and Jimin lets out a sigh of relief as a staff member ushers him into the other side.
Your knees are shaking slightly as you perch on the chair inside the confession box. Separating you and Jimin is a mesh screen that obscures most of his features, and on the table in front of you are a few props- some candles, a rosary and a fake Bible that looks almost real.
“Scene one rolling in three, two, one… action!”
You pick up the rosary in front of you, feeling the beads with your fingers as you settle into your role, trying your best to drown out your obsessive thoughts and worries. The dark confession booth lends you some anonymity- you’re sure that the lighting has been purposely fixed so that the camera can only catch a glimpse of your silhouette.
“Father, forgive me, for I have sinned,” you recite your first line, clasping the rosary beads in your hands and bowing your head in repentance. “I have come here to confess, Father, to a terrible sin that has been occupying my mind and soul for the past few weeks.”
“Pray, tell my child. What is bothering you?” Jimin’s low, soothing voice comes from the other side. “The truth shall set you free.”
“In school, I can’t concentrate on the lessons, and in mass, my mind is always somewhere else… lately I’ve been feeling so restless, Father,” you sigh, resting your head in your hands. “My thoughts haven’t exactly been… pure.”
There is a brief noise from the other side, as if Jimin is shifting in his seat. “What kind of thoughts are you having? Child, if you do not come clean with me, I cannot cleanse you of your sins.”
You play it up for the camera as it focuses on your face, wearing an expression of conflict, embarrassment and distress all in one. This script that Jimin wrote really tests your acting abilities. “U-unholy ones, Father. They get worse at night, when it’s just me alone in my bed… I can’t help it, it just gets so unbearable…”
“Child, sins of the flesh are against the Holy Scripture,” Jimin clucks in disappointment, and you can feel his look of disapproval singe your skin directly, even though you can’t even see his face. “What do you do in your bed when you’re all alone? Are you engaging with these unholy thoughts? Come clean with your Father if you want absolution.”
“I…” you swallow hard in embarrassment, pressing your thighs tightly together as you tug your skirt down, playing the role of the innocent school girl. The skirt is barely long enough for you to sit on, so you can feel your ass, left bare by the thong you’re wearing underneath it, come into direct contact with the chair underneath you. “I… I touch myself, Father.”
Another sigh of disappointment from Jimin as you hear him flipping a few pages of the fake Bible. “You have to be more specific, my child. Where do you touch yourself? Tell me, or else I cannot help you, and you shall be damned to Hell.”
“M-my… I touch myself… down there,” you whimper, feeling yourself dampen against your thong as you start to grind into the chair, thighs parting sinfully as the camera relocates itself to between your legs. You give it a few glimpses of your covered core as your hips rotate slowly. “Please don’t make me say any more, Father… it’s so sinful, so embarrassing, and I…”
There is a slam on the other side as if Jimin has closed the Bible forcefully. “A sinful whore like you, embarrassed? I think not. Look at yourself. Confessing to your Father that you touch yourself, and you can’t even bring yourself to say the word ‘pussy’. You think you’re still an innocent little girl, but your actions tell me otherwise. Go on with your confession, slut. We’re not done yet.”
You whimper as your thong is getting more and more soaked, and your breasts are heaving against your tight shirt. “I… I think about it at school too, Father. At mass. I sneak out in the middle to rub myself in the toilet, and then I… I come back to mass. Sweaty and my fingers still sticky.”
“In school too?” Father Jimin’s voice is a low purr now that sends shockwaves all the way to your core, and you can’t help but rub yourself against the chair, legs parting all the way. To a certain extent, the embarrassment on your cheeks is real, for Jimin has yet to touch you or even see you to get you this worked up, and even though you despise it, his degrading and humiliating words only serve to spur you on and add to your performance.
He surely knows how to bring out the best of you.
“What about boys?” Father Jimin suddenly demands. “Do you have a boyfriend? Do you let him touch your sweet little pussy? Put his fingers inside you at mass while you recite the Holy Scripture? Rub your pretty little clit until your sinful mouth cries out? I bet a little slut like you wants all the cock she can get. Tell me, do you lift your little plaid skirt for any boy who passes by?”
Hearing the jealousy and possessiveness in his voice only sends a fresh wave of arousal to soak your panties, and at this point you’re pretty sure that the chair is wet too.
“No! No Father Jimin, no boys,” you beg and plead earnestly. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”
Jimin makes a low groan in his throat, a noise that makes your nipples ache. “Fuck, then you’re a tease. Nothing but a little cocktease. Look at you. Do you really think I don’t know you’re rubbing your little pussy against the chair while you confess your sins?”
You gasp in shock as the script calls for, hips immediately stilling. “Father Jimin, please, I can’t help myself.”
“If I have any say in it, your sweet pussy will remain pure and untouched except by the Father himself,” Jimin groans lowly from the other side, and you can hear his slight panting. “Tell me, my child. Do you want to receive forgiveness for your carnal sins?”
“Yes,” you gasp immediately, feeling your hips jerk and your clit catch deliciously against the chair through your soaked underwear. “Please, Father forgive me. For I have sinned.”
“Ask and you shall be rewarded, seek and you shall find,” Jimin says as he gets up from his chair. “Bend over the table for me, sweet child.”
Raising yourself on shaky legs, you prop the upper half of your body on the table, back arched as the camera relocates behind you to give Jimin time to cross over from his side of the confession booth. You can feel your thigh high socks rub against each other as your thighs chafe in your impatience.
“Look how slutty you are in your school uniform… fuck, boys would be all over this ass in an instant,” Jimin gives you a harsh spank to your right cheek, and you gasp and writhe under him. “In order for me to rid you of your sins, I have to thoroughly cleanse you here.”
His fingers massage your ass, splitting your cheeks open and revealing your most intimate places to him and the camera. Jimin runs his fingers along your inner thigh, just shy of your thigh high socks, up until he brushes against your swollen pussy lips. The crotch of your little white thong is soaked, and Jimin uses his fingers to push it into your pussy.
“That’s it, sweet child… show Father Jimin all your sins,” he massages your panties deeper into your pussy with two fingers. “Show Father Jimin how sweet your pussy looks when its stuffed.”
“Father,” you whine low in your throat, wiggling your ass against his thighs. To which he responds with a sharp spank on your left cheek that smarts.
“On your knees, harlot,” Father Jimin commands, pulling you off the table by your hair and taking a seat on your chair, spreading his legs. “I think you need a taste of the Holy Staff to cleanse that impure mouth of yours.” He parts his robes to reveal his dress pants, unzipping and revealing his cock, red and throbbing with precum already leaking out of it. “Time for Holy Communion, my sweet child. Open up wide and receive the gift of Christ.”
You feel the saltiness of his cock against your tongue as he slides in deep, spearing your throat open as he thrusts into your face. Jimin’s balls brush against your chin as you swallow him deep, tears springing to your eyes as he controls your movements with his hand buried in your hair. You are choking and gasping around his cock noisily, and Jimin just eats up every single sound as he continues to ravish your mouth mercilessly.
From his viewpoint, seeing you on your knees has Jimin confident enough that he can muster up two loads for this scene. He just wants to watch your mouth fill with his cum, watch you swallow every drop of his salty essence, and show him your empty mouth after that.
“Suck me, yes, good, just like that, harlot,” Jimin demands as he pushes you down on his cock. “Suck your Father and feel my cum fill your mouth. Swallow down my blessing, so that you may strive for the salvation and absolution that you so seek.”
He can feel you twitch in surprise at the sudden demand for you to swallow his cum, but you sink down on his cock readily, looking up at him with wide and innocent eyes that nearly makes him blow his load right then and there. He looks off to the side to the director to gain his approval before Jimin starts to thrust again, feeling his balls tighten. With a strangled groan, Jimin feels his cock swell in your perfect mouth between those red lips, and he unleashes a torrent of bitter, salty cum into your mouth, swearing as you suckle on his cock like an infant, coaxing every drop from him.
“Swallow every drop,” Jimin pulls away from your mouth, his spent length twitching. You flash him a naughty little smirk as you clean a drop of cum from your mouth salaciously, opening your mouth to show him the reservoir of cum inside before your throat swallows, and you show him your empty mouth.
“Enough, harlot,” he declares as he pulls you up. Jimin watches as you pant desperately for air, tear stained cheeks and precum staining your chin. “You have dabbled in impure and unholy thoughts, my child. Sins of the flesh must be purified, for your body is a gift from God and not a receptacle for lust. Your body must be kept pure and untouched except for the man God intends you to marry and have babies with.”
Jimin leans back, thighs spread as his eyes linger over your thighs. “Sweet child, have you followed the rules of the Catholic Church? Are you on birth control, or any form of contraception that isn’t allowed by the Church?”
“N-no, Father,” you whimper. “My body is pure and untouched, as nature intended it to be.”
A pleased yet somehow also wicked smile crosses his face, but vanishes just a second later. “Good, my child. Be seated on your Father’s lap.”
“And cut!” The director yells, and Jimin lets go of you immediately, his spent length limp against his inner thigh. You turn around to watch a stylist clean him up carefully, an odd sensation in your throat when you see how unbothered Jimin is as he lets random strangers touch his soft cock.
Jimin is coated in a thin sheen of sweat, his thick, plush lips parted and looking like the devil himself as he gulps down some water that someone hands him, running his hand through his sweat soaked hair. Droplets of water travel down his neck as he drinks carelessly from the bottle, and you can feel your core pulse painfully. He catches you looking at him as an assistant sponges his soft cock, and he raises his eyebrows before glancing down at his crotch.
You step outside to have a few breaths of fresh air.
Jimin looks over at you as his stylist removes his circle glasses for a polish. “Doing okay? First half was intense.”
In your mind’s eye you have no doubt that you look wrecked beyond belief. Cheeks flushed with arousal, nipples hard and straining against your thin shirt- they didn’t give you a bra today- and you try and tamp down your embarrassment, replacing it with professionalism instead as you give him a taciturn nod. “Was alright.”
Someone hands you a bottle of water and you gulp gratefully. You can feel the wet stickiness between your thighs start to drip, and hope to whatever deity residing above you that Jimin can’t smell it.
“You were doing great,” Jimin says unexpectedly, getting up and tucking himself back into his pants just for modesty’s sake, especially as he moves closer to you. “Really got me so fucking turned on without even seeing you.” With his nose and lips dangerously close to your neck, you can feel your heart pounding against your ribs. “Now I know why you’re so good at what you do. The innocent yet naughty thing really works for you.” Jimin gives you his greasy little smile that doesn’t make you feel as disgusted as you thought you would be and is almost… endearing?
And as a scriptwriter he knew perfectly well what kind of role would suit you. You didn’t see it before, but you’re able to show off your innocent charm in the best ways possible with this script, and Jimin as an actor complements you perfectly as well.
As much as you try to deny it- you have to admit that this man turns you on. Park Jimin has this intriguing charisma with his offscreen personality that draws you in. Although it’s a whiplash from his cold, domineering onscreen persona, you can’t say that his dominance isn’t equally arousing either- it’s all just so confusing. You never thought you’d enjoy letting the most hated man in your life dominate you, but here you are, getting wet after a few insults from him.
“Can I kiss you?” He says suddenly, and you realise he’s been staring at your lips for a while.
The question shocks you to your core, and you take a step back involuntarily but Jimin follows your body with his, his hand coming around your back, but not touching your skin. Around you, various crew are still running around changing the lighting and modifying the set and doing who knows what, so no one is paying any attention to the two of you. Jimin still holds your hand in his as he stands with his body mere inches away from yours. “Just once. Please.”
You realise you’ve never kissed any of your co-stars before, much less outside of a scene. Jimin looks at you so earnestly that you almost can’t recognise him as the man who so cruelly put you down all those years ago, nor can you reconcile it with your perception of him as a selfish, cold bastard. Your head dips ever so slightly, and Jimin grins as he leans in.
His lips are soft and pleasant against yours, a very relaxed kiss with him leading and his hand soft against your back. It seems to be over far too quickly though, for he pulls back with a genuine smile on his lips.
“I’ve been wanting to do that since I saw you that day in the locker room,” he admits as he glances away, rubbing the back of his neck in a gesture that you recognise as embarrassment.
The great Park Jimin, embarrassed? You must be seeing things. He grins at your expression and boldly takes your hand in his, pulling you to feel his crotch where his cock is hard, again. In a mere span of minutes, just from kissing you alone.
Your cheeks heat up, whether in embarrassment, arousal, or flattery, you have no idea. But Park Jimin doesn’t seem the least bit ashamed as he palms his cock with your hand over it, licking his sinful, thick lips as he admires the curve of your neck, the soft flesh that he wants to mark with his teeth.
“It… it wasn’t a bad kiss,” you begrudgingly allow him to grin at your half-hearted compliment. “Not the best, though.”
You feel Jimin chuckle briefly against your neck, his breath skimming your heated skin. “Playing hard to get. I love it. You’re better than Viagra for me, sweetheart.”
Before you can react to the tender nickname, the director calls for everyone to take their places, and you step away from him with your heart pounding, back into your side of the confession booth. Standing in front of the chair as per where you left off last time, you feel more than see Jimin follow you into your side now. His thighs brush against your ass as he sits down, getting his once again hard cock out of his pants before he places his hands on your waist. With your back to him it’s easier to calm your racing heart even as you prepare yourself for the next scene.
“It’s gonna get a little rough from here on, you know that right?” Jimin’s voice is a low murmur as you feel his hands on your waist soothingly. “Just remember you can tap out anytime. You have all the power.”
“Okay.” You turn your cheek to the side to get a glimpse of him smiling back at you. Once the director starts rolling, however, it disappears entirely into a cold mask again, and porn star actor Park Jimin is back.
You turn and step backwards, feeling his hands on your waist guiding you as you start to sit down. His cock brushes against your ass, and you whimper in fear as the script calls, struggling to stand up again.
“Shhhh, my child, do not be afraid, for your Father is here,” Jimin whispers, pulling you firmly down and spreading your thighs for the camera. His sticky cockhead brushes against your inner thighs, and you fight against his strength as Jimin seeks to impale your tiny virgin hole with his cock. “My beautiful child, cursed and sinful harlot, are you ready to receive your anointing? Are you ready for the Holy Spirit to enter your impure body and cleanse you from the inside out?”
Your pussy is still wet and dripping despite the cut, and you can almost feel Jimin smirk as he takes in the implications of this.
“Yes, Father Jimin please… please enter me,” your legs are trembling as Jimin slowly lowers you onto his cock, and the head of him breaches your entrance.
“Lower yourself fully, my child, and accept your position at the Lord’s feet where you belong,” Father Jimin pulls you to sit fully upon him, cock now buried deep in your supposedly virgin pussy as you cry out. He bends to gather your thighs in his grip, fully opening your legs and exposing your stuffed cunt to the camera, bidding you to rest your full weight upon him. “Recite your rosary, sweet child, and rejoice in your blessing.”
And then he begins to fuck up into your cunt with measured strokes, reciting a prayer under his breath as he does so. His hands grip your thighs apart and his thrusts are harsh, punishing against you as his cock bottoms out all the way to your womb.
“Fuck, this sweet pussy, meant to be used for your Father’s pleasure, meant to worship your Father’s cock with reverence,” Father Jimin pants as he watches his cock disappear into your pussy. “You won’t let any other boy touch it, will you my sweet? Only Father Jimin.”
“O-only Father Jimin,” you repeat after him as he fondles your clit with his expert fingers that makes you wail and thrash on top of him, the camera zooming in to capture your expression as your orgasm around him, switching to your pussy to focus on how it grips him like perfect velvet.
His thrusts are speeding up and getting sloppy now- you recognise the cadence of it as he races for his climax.
“Are you ready to receive your blessing, harlot?” Father Jimin growls as he tightens a hand around your throat, cutting off your air supply. “F-fuck, forgive me, God!” He groans loudly as his hips thrust a few more times and he is spilling into your depths, filling you up with his second load of the day, covering your cervix with his thick, warm anointment and blessing.
You can do nothing but writhe on his cock as your walls clench around him, feeling your womb swell with his gifts. He is still twitching and spurting inside you; it feels strangely intimate for him to hold you as he comes down from his high. Whether it’s because Park Jimin is the first man to ever cum inside you bare like this, or if it’s because of something else, you’ll never know. The camera focuses on his rapidly softening cock as it slips from your pussy, cream immediately leaking from your centre and dripping down your ass and inner thighs.
Jimin’s fingers skim down your body to play with the remnants of his offering left at your altar, and his other hand is over your lower belly suggestively. His fingers slide over your dripping slit, gathering up some of his cum mixed with your arousal as he brings it up to your clit, rubbing and pinching as you continue to leak his cum all over his softening cock that is resting against your inner thigh.
With a cry, you cum again, swollen cunt clenching around nothing and oozing more of his cum out. Jimin soothes you with a few kisses to your neck that feels oddly intimate, and are definitely not in the script as you come down from your high.
His lips are poised close to your ear as he delivers the final lines of the scene. “My sweet child, I have a feeling you’ll be back here with another confession in 9 months. May your time away from me bear fruit.”
“CUT! Brilliant, amazing, I was blown away!” The director claps his hands as you sag against Jimin, thighs slipping off his frame. “Someone help them clean up, and it’s a wrap! Thank you!”
Jimin situates you more firmly on his lap so that you won’t fall off, carefully helping you stand up as his cum leaks from your centre. An assistant hands you a wet tissue and you take a few steps away from Jimin so you can clean yourself up, but he follows you, snatching the wet tissue from you and cleaning your inner thighs himself.
“Jimin, stop, I can do it myself,” you start to protest, but it seems like nothing can stand in the way of Jimin’s obsession with his cum on you. He purposely catches a glob of it on his finger and brings it to his mouth, making eye contact with you as he licks his finger sinfully.
“Any chance of doing a sequel with that?” Jimin grins perversely, pushing himself to stand as he hands the used wipe to an assistant. “The title can be, ‘Blessed with my Father’s Baby’. What do you think?”
“I’m not doing a pregnancy porn shoot with you, Park,” you roll your eyes and put on the robe your manager hands you. “If that’s the last script, consider me out. I’m breaking the contract.”
Even as you walk out with Jimin’s amused gaze still on your back, a thought occurs to you that this shoot wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. There was no signs of the panic attacks, traumatic memories and actual, real humiliation even though you spent most of the scene grovelling at Park Jimin’s feet, sucking his cock and being used thoroughly by him. In fact, as you walk away from the man himself, you start to realise that maybe he is right about this whole domination business—you had the upper hand all along.
The last scene is so unlike the previous two that you have to pause and make sure that the sender of the email is Park Jimin. After you confirmed it three times, you click back to the pdf file and read it through again, just to make sure you’re not seeing things.
A newly-wed couple on their wedding night, consummating their marriage for the first time.
You swallow hard, noting that there isn’t any of the dominance and humiliation that Jimin usually has in his scripts. Instead, it seems to require intimacy and chemistry between the two actors, seeing as there are barely any lines for you to memorise. All he’s given you is a brief premise and description of positions from start to finish, and at the end he put a director’s note that all of this is to be very loosely followed.
The premise of the script remains in your mind even as you go through your workouts at the gym. Sweat drips down your face as you increase the speed on the treadmill, wishing that life was as easy as just running away from all your problems like this.
Can you even act that well? Jimin seems to have too much faith in your acting skills, though you know that he probably has no problem mustering up the appropriate emotions for this scene. But you on the other hand… your feelings towards Jimin have been getting more and more confusing. If this goes on any longer, it’ll be hard for you to draw a firm line between the two of you, much less keep on convincing yourself that he is the selfish, proud and egotistical bastard you always thought he was.
Why does he have to write such a corny and awful script? This will really put your acting skills to the test. You swear at him under your breath as you punch the stop button on the treadmill, grabbing your towel and stepping off. Taking a swig of your water, you continue to curse his obnoxiously handsome face as you walk to the locker room—
“Did you just say my name?” A familiar voice startles you and you nearly drop your phone as you turn around.
Jimin has his silver hair slightly matted and damp, sticking to his forehead. He’s obviously here for a workout, dressed in a thin white shirt that is see through with his sweat, and some workout shorts that show off the thickness of his thighs. You’ve never seen him in anything but a suit or perfectly pressed dress pants, and you can’t help but let your eyes wander over how built his physique is. Slim, yet wiry, he is the epitome of sleek, elegant power as he pushes his sweaty hair off his forehead, giving you a glimpse of his firm biceps as he does so.
“Wh-when did you start coming to this gym?” You avert your gaze by taking a gulp of water.
“Since I heard you went here,” he grins shamelessly, stopping at the water cooler for a refill.
This is the first time you’ve interacted with him outside of a porn shoot, and even though you’ve practically seen his dick, had it inside you, done all sorts of sordid things with him— you feel awkward around him, especially when you think about the shoot you’ll have to do with him soon.
“I’ll um… see you tomorrow then. Ha-have a good workout,” you mumble under your breath, making a wide berth around him to head for the lockers and showers. The stutter in your voice makes you cringe.
“Hey— you didn’t get back to me about the script. Is it okay?” Jimin turns off the tap at the water cooler and follows you for a few steps.
You turn back to him and study his face carefully. He doesn’t seem to be teasing you or making fun of you, in fact he is completely serious. Should you be honest and tell him what you’re really worried about, or should you beat around the bush?
“… it’s a different script. Different from what you usually do,” you finally say.
Jimin shrugs, unperturbed. “Different, yes. But different is good, and I wanted to try something new since… since it’s with you. I thought since our last two shoots were more of my style, we could incorporate yours for the final one. So that there’s some kind of balance. Is there a problem? Or did you change your mind about that pregnancy shoot?”
His little teasing voice makes your cheeks heat up involuntarily. You are irritated with yourself, at how you always seem to be at a loss for words around him, at how he always affects you just so.
“It’s just… it’s very brief. I’m not sure I know how you want it to go.” You fret with your hands a little, avoiding eye contact with Jimin. “If there were more lines, more stage directions, more things like that. I’d feel more confident about doing it with you.”
“Ah, it’s about that,” Jimin makes a humming noise in his throat as he considers your words. “I purposely didn’t include many scripted lines because I thought it wouldn’t fit with how I envisioned this entire scene to go. In my mind I saw two lovers, passionate yet innocent, celebrating their love for the first time. Lines would make everything kind of awkward and artificial, don’t you think? We should let it flow naturally. Get into the mood and character with each other.”
While Jimin is speaking, you can sense that he really does have a passion for acting, and not just the scripted trash that porn actors usually dole out. You’ve witnessed his genuine talent when it comes to immersing himself in a scene, admired him for how he seems to have two sides to his personality, and how he can switch between his on and off screen persona so fluidly.
“I definitely won’t have a problem getting into character. I could help you if you need me to… but somehow I feel like you don’t.” His voice is a low baritone against the shell of your ear, and his words are suggestive. Jimin smiles confidently as he steps closer to you. “At least, I hope by now you don’t think I’m still that stuck up jerk.”
Jimin’s eyes are fixated on your forehead, and he’s so close that you can feel his breath on your skin. He reaches up to wipe a drop of sweat from your forehead, and then his thumb brushes against your cheek. “If you need more stage directions… then let me just say I think we’ll be doing a lot of kissing. A lot.”
He lets his hand drop as he meets your eyes again, waiting for your response as a he grins at you. Jimin drops his eyes to your lips as his tongue dips out to caress his own plush ones. You think back to the last time he kissed you in between scenes, and you can feel your traitorous heart skip a beat in your chest. It flusters you so much that you can only step away from him and throw a hasty goodbye over your shoulder as you flee.
“Last shoot of the contract!” Wendy sings as she brings you your iced coffee. “Are you relieved?”
The useless script sits in front of you as you take a sip from your drink absently. “Why would I be relieved?”
“You get paid after this, and they’ll be releasing the first film shortly after. And I thought you hated Park Jimin, so isn’t it a relief that you won’t have to work with him anymore?”
You consider her words carefully as a few stylists adjust your outfit, hair and makeup. Today you are wearing all white, a lace bralette that skims your waist and accentuates your breasts, along with a pair of matching panties and a garter set. Over it all you have a sheer lace cardigan that drapes over your shoulders. “I don’t exactly… hate him, I guess. He isn’t as bad as I thought he was.”
You set aside the script and take a few sips of your drink before handing it to Wendy, nerves fluttering in your stomach as you follow the assistant director’s cue to get ready on set. As usual, Jimin is already on set and mixing with the crew, but when he sees you, he comes over straightaway.
His eyes are taking you in from head to toe, and for once it’s his turn to be speechless. This is exactly what he fell for the moment Sejin hyung showed him your picture, an angel draped in white. For a moment Jimin actually lets himself believe that all of this is real, that you and him are actually newly-weds waiting to consummate your marriage... all for the sake of helping him get into character, of course. Not for anything else.
“You look beautiful,” he says honestly, nervously putting his hands in his pockets to keep him from running them through his hair and ruining his stylist’s hard work. “I’m a lucky man.”
Jimin is talking as if all of this is real, and it sets you on edge. This is dangerous. You should never have agreed to doing this script in the first place. Out of all the shoots you’ve done with him, you feel as if this is the most nerve wracking and outside your comfort zone you’ve ever been.
It’s all for the shoot, you remind yourself, forcing yourself to put aside your feelings and remain professional. All for the shoot, and nothing else. Since Jimin has a distinction between his on screen and off screen persona, you should have one too.
“Everyone on set, and initial positions please!” The director calls, and Jimin takes your hand in his, leading you to the door frame of the bedroom set they have today.
He pulls you in closer to him, arms around your waist so that your body is touching his intimately. Abruptly his legs give out and you fall into his lap, his arms around your waist and chest to chest with Park Jimin as he grins insufferably.
You make a sound of protest even as you try to get off his lap- this position is far too intimate, you can feel the heat of his thighs against your core- but Jimin halts your movements with a pout. He nestles you comfortably straddling his hips, eyes glittering as he grins at you.
“Jimin, filming hasn’t started yet-”
“I know, I know, get into the mood with me? C’mon, I promise it’ll help. We’re supposed to be married, you know.” He plays with a strand of your hair in his fingers, tucking it behind your ear.
Reluctantly, you start to relax in his lap as you wait for the crew to get ready. Being on his lap like this isn’t all that bad. It isn’t awkward like you thought it would be. Jimin is holding your waist and humming in his throat as he leans in to smell your hair, his lips ghosting against the shell of your ear. Each and every one of his actions is so natural and thoughtless that if you let yourself go for one moment- you could almost believe this is real and not reel.
The thin layers of your lingerie do nothing to obscure how warm and firm he feels, and you can see Jimin admiring every inch of your body with unabashed hunger in his eyes, and another emotion that you can’t quite identify. Being this close to him has your heart rate and temperature sky rocketing, and you can feel him rapidly growing hard against your stomach. Jimin’s eyes are soft as he leans in to kiss you even before the director says anything else.
Surprisingly, the kiss settles your nerves rather than worsens them, and you feel yourself relaxing into his touch, closing your eyes and forgetting about everyone else other than the man kissing you right now. Jimin is soft and gentle with his touches, even more tender with his kisses today, and your head lolls to the side to give him more access when he starts to kiss down your neck, sucking along your collarbone and pushing your lace cardigan off your shoulder.
Belatedly you realise that filming must have already started— but then why didn’t you hear the director’s voice…? Jimin brings your attention back to him with his wet tongue on your chest, licking and suckling bruises into your skin.
“Can’t fucking believe you’re all mine,” he moans into your skin, sinking his teeth into the lace and pulling it away from your breast, only to let it snap back into place. “After all these years of running from me, finally, you’re here.”
A jolt runs through your frame as you take in his words; they sound way too specific to your situation. To hide your shock, you moan his name and play with the hair at the nape of his neck.
“Jimin, I—“
“I love you, so much,” Jimin interrupts you as he starts to undo your bra, his eyes bright and lips swollen. To you he looks exactly the same as five minutes ago, you really can’t tell if he’s acting or not. He didn’t But he must be acting— this is a scene, and there’s no way he’s actually in love with you… right?
“I love you too,” you whisper back as your breasts are bared to the camera and to Jimin’s reverent gaze. He takes them in his hands, one nipple in his mouth as he sucks on it, occasionally flicking it with his tongue.
“On the bed, baby. Let me love you like you deserve tonight.” Jimin helps you to lie down on the white canopy bed, and the camera shifts to take in an overhead shot of you on your back as Jimin positions himself between your legs.
From anyone else those lines would have sounded cheesy. Heck, if you knew they were scripted, you would have been struggling not to cringe right then and there. But somehow, knowing that Park Jimin is just throwing himself fully into his character, that he’s fully present with you in this scene makes it hyper realistic, such that if not for the cameras around you, you’d have trouble differentiating between real and reel.
Jimin starts from your bare breasts, kissing his way down your stomach till he reaches the tops of your thighs. This is a Jimin you’ve never seen before. He is soft, loving and looks as if he is content to spend the rest of his life between your thighs worshipping you.
“Wet already? And I haven’t even done much yet,” he smirks as he notices the wet spot on your panties, rubbing his thumb into it so that you can feel your own stickiness on your skin. The camera zooms in to capture the evidence of your arousal, and Jimin slowly starts to peel your panties off, his other hand on your inner thigh, spreading your legs for him as he sucks another bruise into your skin. “Gonna mark you and make you nice and pretty for me, hmmm?”
He spreads you with his thick fingers, examining your most intimate places with a reverent gaze that makes your cheeks heat up. Jimin glances at your reaction with a tiny little chuckle at how cute you are, then he teases you with little licks at your clit that have you mewling and whining under his touch.
“You just need your pussy to be eaten out real good, right baby? No one eats this pussy better than me. Tell me.” Jimin pauses with his lips shining from your arousal.
Being far too used to the dominant side of him, seeing needy little Jimin who aches for your praise nearly makes you cum all over his tongue right away.
“J-Jimin, you’re the only man who can eat me so good,” you weave your fingers into his hair, pulling him closer as you beg for his tongue once more. “Please baby, I- I want to cum. Want your cock now.”
“Begging already?” He grins as he buries his face into your pussy, lewd little sucking sounds emanating as he tastes you from the inside out, tongue delving deep into your folds and spreading you apart for him. “My greedy girl. You’re so sweet, look at this pussy. Dripping so much, and it’s all for me. Can you cum like this for me first?”
Your hips are starting to arch off the bed with every lick and suck he gives you. Park Jimin truly is number one at pussy eating, and to have him praising you like this, calling you his while in between your thighs elicits a flutter in your stomach, a racing of your heart that you can’t seem to control. Jimin allows your hips to move freely, grinding into his face as you ride his tongue to your orgasm, thighs trembling and his name spilling from your lips as he licks every inch of your pussy.
“Jimin.” You whine needily and stretch out your arms for him, and Jimin chuckles as he crawls up the bed to meet your lips with his. You can taste yourself on his lips, but it doesn’t throw you off in the least as your tongues clash and moans spill from the both of you.
“Tell me I did well. Tell me how good I made you feel,” Jimin whispers against your neck.
Your legs come up to circle his waist, cradling him intimately into your centre, and you can feel his hard cock rub against you. “So, so good, you made me feel so good baby,” your chest heaves as your arch your body into his. “The only man who can make me feel like that.”
Jimin shifts back onto his knees to admire how fucked out you already look, hair spilling over the pillow and cheeks all flushed, lips swollen from his kisses. He places his hands behind your knees, pushing your thighs back to your chest to further expose your swollen pussy lips and your dripping center to him.
“Fuck, you look so fucking pretty like this,” Jimin caresses the lace garter on your thighs. “All spread out and dripping for me. Say what you want and I’ll give it to you, princess.”
His thumb caresses your clit lightly, and your thighs twitch, a whine spilling from your lips. “Your cock. I want your cock. Fuck me, please.”
“Such a sweet but dirty little mouth,” Jimin grins, satisfied as he reaches down to kiss you again, one hand on his cock and brushing his head against your lips. You can feel his sticky precum spread all over you as he thrusts forward with his fluid hips.
The first stretch of his cock makes you arch your back, and Jimin presses your thighs to your chest further, feeling you tighten around him. He continues to work his cock into your soaked depths, praising you for how tight and good you feel around him as he finally bottoms out. His lips are brushing against your collarbone as his cock grinds against your cervix, but the pain is a welcome one.
You brush a few strands of sweat soaked hair out of his eyes, watching his expression as he closes his eyes and withdraws from your clenching pussy. Today Jimin seems to be closer to the edge than usual even though you didn’t even suck him off, and he seems to be trying his best not to blow his load right now as he delivers hard thrusts into your pussy. He flashes you a shy little grin that makes your stomach flip as your eyes meet, and as you purse your lips to give him a tiny little kiss at the corner of his mouth, that’s when you realise it— you are actually in love with Park Jimin.
Somehow, somewhere along the lines, you stopped acting. Maybe it was never an act all along. But what about Jimin?
“So tight, so pretty, so wet for me,” Jimin grunts into your neck as his hips speed up, cock battering your pussy as you feel yourself dripping all around him, wetness coating his balls and his base. “I can’t wait to start a family with you. Like this. Just the two of us.”
The talk of starting a family once again reminds you that this is a shoot where you’re supposed to be newlyweds.
“Give it to me,” you stroke his cheek with your thumb, smiling up at him gently as he presses your thighs to your chest, grunting with the effort of fucking into you with his cock. “Want your baby.”
As you lock eyes with him, you realise that Jimin isn’t acting either. Unlike the previous shoots where the transition from his offscreen to onscreen persona was painfully obvious, this time Jimin’s face isn’t the cold mask he puts on during shoots. Park Jimin wears all his emotions on his face— and all this while you thought he was a heartless, cold bastard.
Then, it becomes painfully clear to you why he didn’t write any lines for the two of you, simply because they aren’t needed. This intimate gaze between the two of you says it all, and it conveys more than what a few lines ever could. You raise your head to meet his lips again, and the feeling of his cock thrusting in and out of your pussy slowly, his lips against yours and his tongue licking your bottom lip tenderly makes you feel as if you are really lovers.
“I can’t hold it much longer,” Jimin admits, pushing himself onto his knees and letting your legs stretch out to rest on his shoulders. From this here he can see every inch of your beautiful body, breasts bouncing with every thrust of his, and the way your pussy takes his cock so well.
“Cum for me?” You reach down to brush your fingers across his firm abdomen, walls starting to clench around his cock as Jimin circles his thumb around your clit. “Please?”
At the sound of your sweet begging, Jimin decides to throw all caution to the wind and chase his orgasm just how he’s dying to— pounding into your wet cunt with his cock and feeling you clench around him; your little whines and moans egging him on. A few more thrusts inside your warmth and he buries himself as deep as he can go, throwing his head back and exposing his pretty throat as he cums inside you.
The warmth of his cum seeps into your pussy as he fills you up to the brim, even more than he’s ever cum before. Even after he’s done spurting into your depths, Jimin continues to thrust lazily, fucking his cum deeper into you and chasing your lips with his. When his cock has softened too much for him to keep going, he pulls out and positions himself in between your thighs.
“You didn’t cum yet did you baby?”
“N-no, not yet, oh! Jimin, what are you—“ Even though this isn’t the first Jimin eats his cum from your used pussy, it never fails to bring a blush onto your cheeks, watching him slurp and kiss your lower lips messily with his semen all over his chin.
But he licks it all up like it’s the rarest delicacy in the entire world.
You’re so absorbed by his endearing little grin as he licks his plush lips that you almost don’t hear the director call cut.
“Park, _____, this may be your best work yet!” He is starstruck, eyes shining with admiration as he clasps his hands to his chest. “I could really feel all the emotion, for a moment I really believed that you were lovers! Well done, both of you. It’d be my pleasure to work with you again!”
You call out a thanks to the director as you start to get up from the bed, closing your thighs. But Jimin has his arms around your waist and stops you from getting up, pulling you closer into his side. Now, you feel as if it’s time to address the elephant in the room. There was a definite chemistry sparking in between the two of you just now, you’d be a fool to deny it.
“Jimin…”
“Shhh, just a while more. I’m tired.” Jimin whines, pressing a kiss to your lips to quiet you, and his casual yet intimate gesture despite the cameras being off only makes you melt even more. There is a comfortable silence between you for a moment.
“You weren’t acting just now, were you?” You reach out to pinch his cheek, and he grins shamelessly. “You wrote this last scene on purpose. Trying something new my ass.”
“Am I that obvious?” Jimin’s eyes light up with mischief. “But it wasn’t to annoy you this time. I just knew you’d fall in love with me once I made love to you.”
You place a hand on his chest and push him away slightly. “Excuse me? In love? Getting cocky now aren’t we, Mr Park?”
Jimin doesn’t deny it as he buries his face into your neck, giggling. “Stop or I’ll get hard again.”
“You get hard by hearing me call you Mr Park?”
“Can we role-play Fifty Shades next?” Jimin asks. “I think I have a kink for Mr Park. I always wanted to be a rich CEO. Can I gag you with my tie?”
“You kinky bastard,” you mutter under your breath even as a smile tugs at your lips. “But wait. Our contract is over.”
Jimin hums in thought as he kisses your shoulder. “I thought we could enter a different contract this time.”
“Different? Like how?”
“A more personal one, with no scripts involved. Still exclusive, though,” Jimin is grinning, the sneaky little punk.
“Oh really? What exactly does this contract entail?”
Jimin pretends to think for a while before he answers. “Roleplaying Fifty Shades with me, for one. I was thinking we could do a professor student one too. Oh and also, a nursemaid one. And last but not least... go on a date with me.”
He’s so sneaky that it makes you laugh. “Signed, sealed and delivered. But just so you know, I’m fucking your ass this time.”
#bts#bts smut#btssmutclub#bangtan bookclub#bangtanwriters-net#bts jimin smut#bts jimin fics#bts fics
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a symphony without harmony, part 1
summary: reader’s ballet company decides to participate in a charity during the holidays. the event consists of recreating the nutcracker, the wonderful ballet inspired by tchaikovskiys symphonies. after months of auditions, reader is chosen for the prestigious role of clara. reader does not know the details of the events, and ignores that the male part will be taken by a celebrity, hoping to attract spotlight for the charity. one could hope for a professionally trained dancer popular in one of those competition shows, but reader is not so pleasantly surprised to find out that tom holland (who’s just that backflipping spider guy in her mind) will be her prince for (maybe more than) one night.
warnings: terrible representation of ballet, the nutcracker and basically everything, loads of angst and tension, reader is snobby but she’s not cold hearted just give her a chance.
word count: 1901
note: my suggestion received a lot of support and i’m so happy to bring this idea to life! this will be a 3 or 4 part series. i’m enjoying myself too much with this to keep it short and sweet! please, take in consideration the fact that i know absolutely nothing about ballet. all the references i used in this piece come from barbie movies, so that says a lot. thank you so much for reading, and i hope you like it! i’m aware this is different than what i usually write, so be aware of that!
tags: @skymoonandstardust (thank you so much for your support and i’m sorry for the wait!)
“That was wonderful, Y/N! Thank you for another brilliant performance.” The choreographer applauded you, followed by the producers of the show and the representants of the charity you would be performing for. The rehearsal room was usually empty, without you and a record player to assist. This time was special, the charity event was taking place only a couple of weeks from now and since the auditions were completed, it was time for serious practices.
You danced for the New York City Ballet, perhaps one of the most prestigious company in the entire world. You were a newbie, did not have many friends amongst the veteran dancers, but you proved them you belonged in their clique when you won the audition for Clara, from The Nutcracker. You already knew the dance per heart, you had been practicing since you received your first tutu as a Christmas present. You would hum along Tchaikovsky's music while doing your homework and you had been dreaming every night of dancing along to the symphony in front of a real crowd.
“We are waiting for our Nutcracker to arrive, he should be there in only a few moments.” The spokesperson of the company explained to the producers and the representants. Everyone seemed nervous. It was understandable, since the mysterious dancer was supposed to be there and witness your performance too. In fact, you two were supposed to meet a long time ago, but he said he was busy. Too busy for the charity, you figured. Too busy to help you make your biggest dream come true, you sighed.
“I hope our dancer knows that the company does not tolerate lateness.” You commented and went to the corner of the room to take a sip of water. It was only then that the door slammed open and a rather short, muscular guy made his entrance. He was followed by another young man, this one taller and slimmer. He carried a camera and was filming everything the shorter one did. You squinted at the sight. The second one would suit the role better, but if he was filming the first man who walked in, it can only mean…
“Marvelous! Our Prince Eric is here!” Your choreographer exclaimed loudly, his voice resonating against the walls.
You pressed your lips in a thin line and flattened your skirt in annoyance. Your coach gave you a stern look, and you replied with even more severity. So that exclaimed why they kept his identity secret, they went for the pot of gold and expected you to be fine with it. “The Nutcracker is a ballet, not a YouTube video.” You breathed through your teeth when you recognized the man.
Tom Holland himself was giving you the warmest smile. He went in for a handshake, but took his arm back when he noticed that you denied him. He looked to the other guy, as if to tell him to cut that part of whatever he was filming. “What’s up? I’m Tom. And that’s my brother, Harry. He likes making videos, so I brought him along.” His tone of voice seemed calm and poised, although he was freaking out. He had only heard the best compliments about you, his dancer partner. To be honest, he was intimidated and your attitude was not helping.
“Y/N.” You breathed out and tightened your hair bun nonchalantly. “We only film our performances hoping to work on our flaws, we don’t film stuff for fun.”
The noticeable disdain in your voice earned you another warning from your choreographer. “Miss, please. Would you mind doing your solo again? I bet mister Holland here would love to see it.”
“If mister Holland wanted to see it, he had to be on time.” You crossed your arms against your chest, but still walked towards the center of the room. “There’s one plié I want to work on, so I’ll do it again and see if I can improve it.”
Just like that, you were dancing to the symphony from the Dance of the Sugar-Plum fairy. Tom barely had time to get out of the way before you swayed around him, owning the dancefloor like no one was watching. Harry pulled on his sleeve and indicated to come and sit by the empty chairs in the front, so they could all get a better view of your flawless performance. The beautiful music filled everyone’s ears and their eyes were pleased by this light pink ballerina dancing around like a professional.
And that was exactly what you were: a professional. You had to admit you could have given Tom a better welcome, but you could not wrap your mind around the fact that this was an important charity event, hosted in front of the prestigious elite of New York City. It was the opportunity of a lifetime and you were hoping to book a contract or two after your performance. You were disappointed when you recognized the actor, this almost impostor. It was probably just another appearance for him, not different from a silly Buzzfeed interview or a meaningless question and answer session after a photoshoot. Whilst, for you, it was quite possibly the only chance you would ever get to be in Clara’s ballet shoes for one night.
Tom sprung up on his feet to cheer you. Him alone was louder than the bravo’s you heard earlier from everyone else. And his brother captured it all. “That was sick, dude!” Tom congratulated you, his accent gaining a sudden American tone to it. “I have lots of work to do to be on your level.” He confessed with an apologetic giggle. The representants assured him he would be able to do justice to the part, but he still looked uncertain.
Everyone agreed it was the perfect moment to put an end to this first meeting and you soon grabbed your belongings, rushing to the door to change into your clothes, before Tom cut you off.
“Hey, Y/L, right? That was great, what you did!” Tom was standing in front of you, looking fidgety and nervous. “I was hoping, you know, you could show me a thing or two. Only if you have time for it, and if you want to! I didn’t know… Woah, I didn’t know this was so serious!”
“It’s the New York City Ballet, were you expecting a fiasco?” You laughed at your own comment, but finally took a moment to breathe deeply. “I guess I can make time for you. You have a lot to learn if you thought I was going to suck.” You gave him a shrug and you looked at him from head to toe. He seemed to have dressed into something comfortable enough to dance and the effort warmed your cold behavior. “I expected a dancer, forgive me for the surprise.”
The English man chuckled at your last comment. “I dance! I mean, I used to. I did gymnastics too. My parents would always take me to watch ballets, but I was not flexible enough to pursue anything… So I went with my other passion.” For some reason, he felt like he had to prove himself to you. He had to prove you wrong, in some way.
He left you impressed, to say the least. You did not know much about the guy, but there was something to work with. “Which is shooting webs from your wrists and develop an unhealthy obsession with spiders, I believe.”
“You’re a serious one, aren’t ya, darling?”
“This is my moment of glory. I would be stupid not to take it seriously.”
Tom had a million of questions to ask you. What do you love about dancing? When did you start, what was your favorite choreography, why did you pick New York, why you wore your hair in a bun even for informal rehearsals, why you were not in pain when you went on the tip of your toes, why you did a jeté so easily… The list went on and Harry documented all of it. He wanted to get to know you because it was important for him to build a friendship with all of his co-stars and that was how he saw you, as a star. The more you two discussed, over stretching and pirouettes, the less intimidated he became, but the more admiration he had for you.
It would be a lie to say you did not enjoy his dedication to your art. He tried countless times a movement he did not get right on the first attempt and he listened to the tips you gave him about flexibility. He was willing to learn, which took you off guard. When you recognized the movie star, you were expecting to see a walking ego and the most arrogance ever contained in one small body, but he was… Nice. Maybe this whole thing was salvageable.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted.” Tom sighed and fell into a starfish position on the floor, after trying his best to reach his toes while leaning forward. “I used to do that everyday when I was five! And now it feels like I climbed the Everest mountain.”
You let a chuckle escape your lips when you stood up and offered him a hand. He accepted it, not without hesitating, and you shrugged. “All you gotta do is fake it till you make it. We’re all in pain here, but we don’t let it show.”
“So… Basically act like I’m having the time of my life?” He sounded so proud of the association between dancing and acting.
“Exactly. Keep that in mind for the big show and we might get out of there alive.” You laughed again.
His muscles lost their tension when he heard you laugh for the second time. Your facade was falling down, and he was pleased to meet a human being underneath the stereotypical robotic ballerina. “I know another neat trick to fight the pain.”
Both Harry and you spinned on your feet and looked at Tom’s burst of confidence. “And that is..?”
“Hanging out at a pub, a café, or something.”
You fought the urge to smile and shook your head. “I have more things to do. I need to stop by the costumes to get my dress adjusted and I need to buy new shoes…”
“Come on, dear! It’s already so late and I’m surprised you’ve not given up already on the helpless cause that I am. You deserve a break.” He jumped like an excited child. “It’s my treat!”
And with that, everything you had planned for the night, all of the extra stretches and exercises by the bar you installed in your living room vanished. “Only if you promise to be here on time for the next practice, and in proper apparel.”
“Sounds like a deal to me!” He helped you carry your things outside of the rehearsal room. “Wait, do you mean I gotta wear thights?”
“Oh, the full thing. Thights, shoes… And a bright pink tutu. Take it or leave it.” You smirked at him and, to your surprise, he seemed more enthusiastic than ever.
“If I wore a thong for months while filming Spider-Man, I can live with the most obnoxious tutu you can find!”
“You won’t be disappointed, mister Holland.” You nodded, accepting the dare.
“Neither will you.” He promised. “I will not disappoint you.”
#series: a symphony without harmony#tom holland#tom holland x reader#tom holland imagine#tom holland x you
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Clickbait--Chapter 4
Summary: A lot of great things came with being a big name YouTuber, but along with those perks were some serious drawbacks. One of the biggest being a lack of personal privacy. Due to just one video, Kirishima’s least well-kept secret has become a viral sensation overnight, and now he has to deal with the repercussions from both the YouTube community and the public. Hopefully, those he’s dragging down with him won’t mind…
Pairing: Kiribaku
Words: 3,990
Notes: Ya’ know when life and college happen? Anyway, I have full intentions to finish this story. It’s all plotted out, so don’t worry about me falling off the face of the earth :) I had a lot of fun with this chapter. I hope it was worth the wait! Read the full story here
Kirishima stood stunned at his front door. He refused to believe that Bakugou Katsuki was standing mere feet away on the other side of that false wood. How could it be that Bakugou would choose the day Kirishima had run out of laundry to show up at his home uninvited? The pair of his questionably clean Mysteries Unsolved sweatpants weighed heavy on his waist as his eyes remained fixated on the handle, hoping if he remained still, he could convince himself it was all a cruel figment of his morning imagination.
Another round of pounding racked the door.
“What the hell was that, Shitty Hair?” An unmistakable raspy voice came muffled through the wood. Kirishima was wrong. Bakugou was here and this was real, and he was doomed.
Kaminari wrapped his arms around his head and groaned on the kitchen floor, “make it stop.”
“Is something wrong?” Sero asked. Mina rose from her seat and Kirishima tried motioning for her to stay still. She rolled her eyes and made her way towards where he was on the verge of another mental break.
He’s been having an awful lot of those lately, he realized. He seriously needed to take time to sit back and reconsider several of his recent life choices.
“Bakugou’s here.” He whispered, nodding towards the door. Mina raised her brows and mouthed ‘Bakugou’ to Sero who shot her an exhausted look.
“It wasn’t me,” Mina put her hands up defensively, then gave Kirishima a pointed look. “You know we have to open that door.”
“No, we don’t,” Kirishima began guiding her away from the entryway, but Mina pushed back against him. They started shoving back and forth; hands in faces, elbows in stomachs, Mina pulling every dirty tactic to fake-out Kirishima in hopes of getting a grasp on the doorknob; however, he had a major height advantage and easily blocked her path.
“Ei, we can’t just leave them in the hallway.” Mina puffed up her cheeks in a pout. She ducked beneath his arm, nearly reaching her goal before Kirishima wrapped his arms around her mid-section and tossed her over his shoulder. Mina kicked and squealed against him as he moved her away from the entrance. “You’re being ridiculous!”
“No, you’re being ridiculous!” Kirishima angled his face away from her flailing limbs, “betray me again Mina and I swear to god I’ll—Oh!” Kirishima fell to his knees when one of Mina’s uncoordinated flails resulted in a swift kick to his groin. The moment she was free she gave him a short apology before dashing away. Kirishima didn’t even have time to protest. Too busy face-planting the carpet in agony—physical and emotional—to the sounds of Sero’s cackling and Kaminari’s pitiful whines.
What a way to go out, he thought. Face smashed into the floor, ass in the air, and his dignity nowhere to be found. It’s a near spitting image of how he’d always imagined.
“The fuck is going on?”
Kirishima’s shoulders shot to his ears. He rotated his head towards the door to find an upside-down image of Bakugou and Uraraka staring down at him. Uraraka held her hands against her mouth like she was trying to hold in a laugh while Bakugou just glared. Surprisingly, Kaminari was the one standing beside the open door, head cradled in his hands. Kirishima shot him a dirty look.
“I had to stop the knocking dude,” Kaminari said before slinking down against the wall. Kirishima grumbled several half-assed insults and turned away from their newly entered guests.
“I’m so glad you guys made it!” He heard Mina skip over to be obnoxiously friendly. He sneered. He definitely was not throwing a fit though because he was an adult and adults don’t throw fits. He crossed his arms.
“You sure? ‘Cause it sounded like you were haven’t quite the argument.” Uraraka said cheekily. Kirishima felt his face flame up. He let his butt sink down and hoped the rest of him would melt into the floor with it.
“Oh, that? Just the usual banter…” Mina laughed awkwardly, trying to wave it off. Kirishima sighed and suddenly he was reminded why they never collaborated with anyone outside of their small group. Chaotic mess.
He felt a kick to his side and grumbled. He attempted to ignore it, but the kicks increased in strength so Kirishima rolled over to tell who he assumed was Sero off. Words failed him when he was met with a set scarlet stare.
“What the fuck happened to you?” Bakugou gave him another rough nudge with the toe of his shoe. Kirishima tried pushing him off, but Bakugou just pressed down harder.
“I gave him a good kick where it hurts,” Mina winked.
“It was awesome,” Sero said. “A one-hit knockout.”
Bakugou rolled his eyes. “So, you just gonna pout for the rest of the fucking day?”
“I’m not pouting!”
“Sure, fucking looks like it.” Bakugou smirked. Kirishima narrowed his eyes at him. “Oh, and nice pants.”
Kirishima’s eyes widened. He’d completely forgotten he was wearing Mysteries Unsolved merch. Bakugou’s smirk grew cocky and he nudged Kirishima a little harder. Kirishima felt like his face was going to start on fire.
“So, what’s our game plan for the day?” Uraraka asked, pulling Bakugou away by the top of his shirt. Kirishima was grateful. Another second of physical contact with mocking and he’d probably be dead. “We were promised a YouTube video?”
“I’m pretty sure only you were promised a YouTube video.” Sero pointed at her with his greasy spatula and Bakugou glared back. Sero put his hands up defensively. “Not that we’re disappointed you’re here…”
“Real convincing, Soy Sauce.”
Sero stared off for a moment, as if trying to process Bakugou’s words. They lost him for several minutes.
“I, for one, am more than happy you’re here. I’m sure Kirishima is too!” Mina shot him a smile. He made eye-contact with Bakugou and mumbled out a quick agreement.
“Well, what the fuck do you normally do for videos?” Bakugou asked, hands shoved deep in his pockets.
“Well, normally we just fuck around for a week and then I edit it to make it look like we’re cool.” Kirishima crossed his arms. “When I’m lazy I just throw together some leftover clips, call them bloopers and throw them up on my second channel.”
“I do that, but all in one day and once a month.” Kaminari piped up from the floor. Sero rolled his eyes.
“They didn’t ask you.” Sero pointed out. Kaminari stuck out his tongue, curling back up onto his side for his umpteenth hangover nap that morning.
“Well, are we gonna just fuck around then?” Bakugou asked. Kirishima felt his face warm up a bit and turned away from them.
“We could always do a challenge video?” Mina said, tapping her chin. “You post those on your second channel too sometimes.”
Kirishima shrugged. “I suppose. I haven’t done that in months.” It was actually a great idea. Those always got a lot of views since he rarely posted them, and he could use some bloopers for the next main channel video. “Yeah, actually that’d be great.”
“It works for my channel too since we can just split clips.” Mina smiled. “Especially if we’re on different teams.”
Now Kirishima was getting the feeling that he should be extremely against whatever idea Mina was coming up with. The way she was eyeing up Bakugou gave him all sorts of red flags.
“Teams?” Uraraka tapped her chin as well. Kirishima glanced between the girls who now wore identical expressions. He watched them lock eyes and smile mischievously each other. Why would he ever think introducing another deviously evil personality to Mina was a good idea? He looked to Bakugou who was staring at everyone indifferently. Did he seriously not notice the plotting occurring?
Kaminari suddenly perked up. “That’s absolutely genius. Think of all the views a video with Kirishima and Bakugou would get.”
Everyone except Kirishima nodded.
“I mean, we shouldn’t do a video just for views.” Kirishima lifted himself into sitting. “C’mon… don’t we have morals? Standards?”
Everyone in the room blinked.
“Do you have… morals?” Kaminari tilted his head towards Mina.
“Never heard of her.”
“Standards left me years ago.” Uraraka shrugged.
Kirishima’s jaw hung open and he turned to Bakugou looking for help, but Bakugou just shrugged loosely. Kirishima struggled for words before sighing. “At least let me shower.”
“That’s the spirit!” Mina cheered.
If anyone had told him that he would have his crush publicly released for clickbait only to be filming videos with the guy days later for that same clickbait… he’d think they were absolutely insane. Maybe he was the insane one?
What even was his life anymore…
The game Kirishima had no say in since he’d been in the shower was the Newly Wed game. The concept seemed innocent enough when they explained it to him. They were asked questions and their partner had to guess the right answer. Easy. The only problem being the abnormal amount of information Kirishima knew about Bakugou.
“We’re positive I shouldn’t be partnered with Mina?” Kirishima was already finding it hard to look at Bakugou now that Sero convinced him to wear Vlog Squad merch. Bakugou in his red Vlog Squad hoodie might actually kill him if he thought about it too hard.
“People already know we’re best friends.” Mina rolled her eyes. “They want to see you and Bakugou versus me and Uraraka.”
“This is fine with you?” Kirishima asked Bakugou who had been casually leaning against the kitchen counter. Seeing Bakugou fit so easily in his home was really messing with his head. Kirishima clenched his fists to remain focused.
“I don’t make mediocre videos.” He raised a brow. “Either this shit gets trending, or it was a waste of my time.”
Sero snorted from where he was setting up their filming area. “Sounds like a yes if I’ve ever heard one.”
Bakugou scowled and went to check what Sero was doing. Kirishima watched them discuss Sero’s equipment, defeated once again. Mina was already grabbing small whiteboards she left in Kaminari’s bedroom with her extra supplies while Uraraka scrolled through questions with Kaminari who was finally beginning to rejoin reality.
Once again it looked like his fate had been placed in the hands of his friends.
“You ready, Ei?” Mina smiled, hugging the boards to her chest. He took a deep breath glancing at the blonde boy in the center of his living room, looking over tech equipment with Sero. It felt like he was moving through this day half-awake, like he’d go to sleep tonight thinking it was all a dream.
He nodded.
The couples sat next to each other on the boy’s living room couch leaving a small space between them. When Sero signaled they were recording Mina and Kirishima gave their usual over the top introductions before introducing their guests. Uraraka waved overexcited while Bakugou barely acknowledged the camera.
“Denki is also here only this time we’ve kicked him behind the camera. He’ll be asking the questions.” Mina pointed to Kaminari with her dry erase marker and Kaminari leaned over the camera, shoving his face directly into the lens with a wide smile. Kirishima and Bakugou simultaneously groaned.
“What’s the punishment?” Bakugou asked, tapping his marker against the whiteboard. They all looked at him and Uraraka’s eyes lit ablaze.
“Uh, we didn’t come up with one.” Kirishima tilted his head.
“The winners can tweet something off of the losers Twitter.” Uraraka smirked, “it’s an oldie, but a goodie.”
“That’s no fair.” Mina puffed up her cheeks. “Bakugou doesn’t have a Twitter.”
“Who says?” Bakugou stated. Kirishima whipped his head towards Bakugou and Mina’s jaw dropped.
“You have a Twitter?” Kirishima asked. There’s absolutely no way. Kirishima had spent hours internet stalking this guy and never found any hints of a social media account.
“I don’t know,” Bakugou smirked while scribbling something on the whiteboard. “Let’s win and maybe you’ll find out.”
Kirishima turned red. Was Bakugou flirting with him? It was probably just for the video, but Kirishima was pretty sure he was being flirted with. Then again Kirishima hasn’t been flirted with in years, so he doesn’t know how to read any signals and could be misinterpreting every—
“Earth to Ei!”
“Huh?” Kirishima turned to Kaminari who was snapping at him.
“Team names?”
Bakugou turned their board around and Kirishima had to cover his face. In darkened letters, Bakugou had written ‘KIRIBAKU’ across the top in red. “Fucking obviously.” Bakugou cackled.
“Dude.” Kirishima whined.
Mina pouted, turning their board around which said ‘PINK BALLOONS’ with a few balloons doodled in the corner. “No fair. You’re baiting the viewers to favor you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Bakugou said with a devious smile.
“Blasty always plays dirty.” Uraraka rolled her eyes.
“Fuck off,” Bakugou growled.
“YouTube friendly.” Kirishima muttered with crossed arms. “This is my only monetizable content, dude.”
Bakugou was quiet for a moment before mumbling. “Frick off.”
Kirishima started laughing and Bakugou had a small smile. Uraraka shook her head. “Bakugou isn’t monetizable.”
“I can be fucking monetizable.” Bakugou growled with clenched teeth. They all looked at him and he sagged his shoulders. “Fricking.”
“I was kidding. I can edit, don’t sweat it, dude.” Kirishima waved it off with a wide smile. Bakugou stopped for a moment and just stared at him. Kirishima raised a brow and Bakugou quickly turned away.
“Oh, he’s really sweaty. So that’s probably not—”
“Would you shut the fuck up!?” Bakugou leaned over and threw one of their markers at Uraraka. She squealed when it narrowly missed her face and threw one back that smacked Kirishima right in the chest. Uraraka apologized repeatedly while Bakugou sent her double middle fingers from behind Kirishima’s back.
“Alright, first question.” Kaminari said, completely ignoring the situation in front of him. Bakugou and Uraraka settled down, but the competitive air had risen exponentially between them. Kirishima and Mina glanced at each other helplessly. “What’s your partner’s favorite food?”
Bakugou snorted before confidently writing down an answer. Kirishima was surprised, but the answer was pretty easy—meat. He’d eat any and all kinds of meat if it was cooked well; honestly, even if it was cooked mediocrely he’d probably still eat it. He supposed that made it a broad guessing category.
“See this game is fun because it shows us who’s a stalker.” Sero nudged Kaminari and they snickered evilly. Kirishima’s eyes widened. So, it wasn’t just him who had that thought. He side-glanced Bakugou whose grip tightened slightly on the whiteboard as he zoned out on his answer. Was he rethinking his guess?
“Alright, flip.”
Bakugou hesitated briefly, but when he turned the board it read the right answer. Kirishima’s heart fluttered unreasonably and he tried desperately to fight back his dopey smile. However, Mina was also correct. Bakugou and Mina both smirked at their personal victories, then glared at each other.
“What the hell?” Bakugou sneered, erasing his answer. “Why would you know that?”
“Because I pay attention to her behind the scenes videos.” Mina winked at Uraraka who blew her a kiss back. “Why would you know Kirishima’s favorite food?”
“Look at the guy,” Bakugou gestured to him with the marker. “He’s never seen a damn vegetable in his life.”
“I eat vegetables.” Kirishima scoffed. Bakugou gave him a pointed look and Kirishima turned away with pouted lips. So maybe they were his least favorite food group, but once a month he chose the salad option when they got fast food and he deserved credit for that.
“The second question,” Kaminari drawled out, now hanging upside down off their ottoman. “How old was your partner when they had their first kiss?”
Kirishima knew the answer was fifteen. He also knew that Bakugou got his first kiss on a dare because Uraraka had teased him about it on one of her Instagram stories. Obviously, he couldn’t write all that, so he pretended to be uncertain about the answer, erasing a couple of times, before finally writing the correct number.
When he finished Bakugou was looking at him suspiciously.
“What?”
“That took you a while.” Bakugou said, raising an eyebrow.
“It was… a hard question?” He tried to lie, but he was never good at hiding his emotions. Mina always said he got betrayed by is big eyes; he was an open book whether he liked it or not.
“You’re a shit liar.” Bakugou smirked. Kirishima felt his face turn red and he racked his mind for an excuse. He came up completely empty.
He frowned. “I know.”
“No throwing.” Bakugou said, completely serious. “I can’t have Pinky going through my phone.”
When they flipped their boards Kirishima obviously got it right claiming he guessed. Uraraka had gotten it wrong and Mina clung to her shoulders fake crying about betrayal, and how she thought what they had was real. Bakugou fake gagged through the whole act.
“How many siblings does your partner have? Bonus points for details.” Kaminari said, now slugged onto the floor.
Bakugou started writing. Kirishima stared in awe because he just didn’t stop writing.
“What are writing a novel?” Uraraka asked, snorting. Bakugou just threw up a middle finger.
When it was time to flip the boards around Kirishima’s jaw dropped. Bakugou had filled the whiteboard with information about his sisters. Even Mina lowered her board down.
“Two.” Bakugou stated confidently, looking right into the camera. “One is older, and her name is Misaha who you facetime once a week; she’s 23. The second is Aiko. She’s still in high school. 16, I think?”
Bakugou looked at Kirishima for confirmation and Kirishima just nodded his head slowly. Bakugou smirked and motioned for Kaminari to give them points. Kaminari blinked a few times but drew several tallies on their side of the scoreboard.
“How do you know all of that?” Mina said, slamming her whiteboard with only a zero written on it on her lap.
“You literally have to be following him on social media and have watched like three vlogs.” Bakugou rolled his eyes and erased his answer. “He never shuts up about his family. Posts about them all the fucking time.”
“He’s not wrong.” Sero shrugged.
Kirishima tilted his head. “You watch my vlogs?”
Bakugou shrugged. “So, what? You watch our stuff.”
“Yeah,” Kirishima laughed. “But that’s different.”
“How?”
“Well…” Kirishima furrowed his brow. Bakugou’s content was good? Bakugou and Midoriya were real YouTubers? Kirishima didn’t feel like he was anyone worth Bakugou’s free time?
Kirishima shrugged.
“Whatever, you’re both awesome we get it. Can we continue?” Kaminari took a deep breath, oblivious to Bakugou’s vicious glare. “What’s your partner’s favorite movie?”
After that Kirishima was starting to feel like Bakugou was less someone unreachable that he should be idolizing and more just… a person. Kirishima wasn’t afraid to answer the questions he knew truthfully; Bakugou even high-fived him when he knew the name of Mysteries Unsolved’s first YouTube video. He didn’t have to feel anxious around the guy anymore and it felt… amazing.
Once Mina realized Bakugou was a bit of a Vlog Squad fanboy she nearly quit the game. There was no hope for her and Uraraka since the boys ended on a near-perfect score. Bakugou somehow even bullshitted that Kirishima would want The Rock to play him in a movie. The girls stood absolutely no chance.
“This is so unfair,” Mina whined as she reluctantly she handed over her cellphone to Bakugou after they’d completed recording. He cackled, and Kirishima swears on whatever god was out there, skipped into the kitchen. Uraraka pouted and held her phone out to Kirishima. He gave her a half-smile, pretending to be sorry, but secretly thrilled to take revenge on someone who’d been plotting his demise since she’d stepped foot in his home.
“Be kind to me.” Uraraka batted her eyes.
“No promises.”
Mina screamed from the other room and they both went wide-eyed, sprinting into the kitchen. Mina was lying on the floor dramatically with her cellphone clutched to her chest while Bakugou sat at the counter laughing. A genuine full-bodied laugh. Kirishima swore his heart stopped.
“Kirishima!” Mina sat up and pointed at Bakugou. “I want him out of this house. He’s never allowed here again. Banned I say! Ban him for life!”
“Well,” Kirishima smiled at Bakugou who was still having a hard time containing his laughter. “It’s my house… so… no?”
She stood and stomped passed him towards Sero and Kaminari while mumbling about how useless he was. Kirishima rolled his eyes and went to sit next to Bakugou at the counter.
“What’d you do?”
Bakugou smiled at him and again Kirishima felt himself go through the beginnings of a heart attack. Maybe he should be more careful around this guy. “Check out her Twitter.”
Kirishima took out his phone and pulled up Mina’s account. He couldn’t contain himself and he burst out laughing too, covering his mouth with his hand.
Alien Queen: Omg guys. I knew my vibes were off!?!? I’m like totally freaking out. It normally doesn’t look like this should I like call 911??? L
Attached to this tweet was a picture of a toilet with a bright green poop floating in it. Kirishima looked at Bakugou who was just smiling proudly. He’d never thought Bakugou capable of something like this. This Bakugou, the one in front of him, was a million times better than the idealized one he’d created in his head.
“Have you done Round Face’s, yet?”
“Oh.” Kirishima pulled out Uraraka’s phone. Bakugou took it and quickly entered the password before handing it back to him. “I’ll just do this.”
Kirishima commented on Bakugou’s post. ‘This happened to me last week. I feel you. Solidarity in numbers, babe. Keep me updated.’
Bakugou started to cackle again and Kirishima smiled. Then Bakugou tried to reach for Kirishima’s actual phone and he instinctively pulled it away. “Whoa, I didn’t lose. If anything, I carried.”
Bakugou snorted and just motioned for Kirishima to hand it over. He scrunched up his nose but unlocked the screen and gave it to Bakugou. Bakugou raised a quick brow at Kirishima’s sexy rock background but shook it off and started punching in a number, then Bakugou’s phone started ringing. When Kirishima realized what was happening he took a shaky breath.
Where was one of his dumb friends when he needed them?
They were all respectfully hanging out in the living room while he flirted with someone in the kitchen. When have they ever not meddled in a situation that didn’t need meddling? This is an opportune time for Kaminari to do something stupid or Mina to think he needs help.
Hello?
Bakugou set Kirishima’s phone on the counter next to him and it vibrated. A new message from an unknown number.
“For whatever.” Bakugou shrugged. “Collabs and shit.”
“Right.” Kirishima smiled softly. “Collabs and shit.”
Bakugou rolled his eyes, but a small smile forced its way onto his face.
“Hey!” Sero shouted. “We’re playing Smash. You guys in or what?”
Bakugou’s eyes immediately lit up and he whipped his head towards the living room. “Fuck yeah, I’m in.” He hopped off the stool and looked at Kirishima expectantly. “Ready to get your ass kicked?”
Boy was he.
“I don’t know if you’ve heard.” Kirishima stretched his arms. “I’m kind of the Smash Bros god of this house.”
“Not for long.” Bakugou left the kitchen, hopping onto one of the couches and swiping Uraraka’s Switch controller. She whined and swatted at him, starting another argument between the two. Kirishima rolled his eyes and clutched his phone tightly before placing it in his pocket.
He was very excited about the possible ‘collabs and shit’ this contact may lead to. Until then, he grabbed a controller from Kaminari and selected his main man Luigi. He had a title to defend.
#kiribaku#bakugou katsuki#kirishima eijirou#bnha#boku no hero academia#katsuki bakugou#fanfic#lmao i promise i won't abandon this fic#i love it too much#and i love them too much#:)#youtube au#clickbait#bakugou x kirishima#kiribaku fic#kiribaku fanfic
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