#cutting part of me always believed you’d come back because same actor thinks that’s too gay: | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Tumblr is used by 21% of adults online aged 18-29 years.

#cutting part of me always believed you’d come back because same actor thinks that’s too gay:

waitimcomingtoo · 3 years

Text

Evans

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Synopsis: Tom gets jealous after he witnesses a moment between you and Chris Evans

Masterlist

As much as you loved filming the movies, your favorite part about being in the MCU was going to the conventions.

You loved getting on stage with your cast mates and answering questions. You especially loved when you got to attend the conventions with your best friend Tom. Your fondest memories with him were made during nights following a convention. You’d always get a joint hotel room and stay up late, too buzzed on adrenaline from the panel to fall asleep.

Going to conventions with Tom usually opened up a whole new debate on the nature of your relationship. Snap chats and Instagram stories made from the same hotel room always set off more theories that you were dating. You weren’t, but you didn’t mind the theories.

The current panel you were at was no different from the others. The whole cast stood in a line, with you sandwiched between Tom and Mackie. You listened along to all the questions asked until you heard your name.

“Chris, you and Y/n worked together in the past on Scott Pilgrim vs The World, where you played one of her evil ex boyfriends.” The journalist said to Chris Evans. “How did you react when you heard she was joining the MCU cast?

“I was really happy about it.” Chris said into his mic. “I’ll admit, I had a bit of a crush on Y/n when we were filming Scott Pilgrim so I was very excited when she got added to the cast.”

Tom felt his ears turn pink when he heard Chris’s confession. It was no secret that he liked you, but he had no idea Chris liked you too. He looked to you to see your reaction, mouth going dry when he saw the shocked smile on your face.

“Are you serious?” You laughed in surprise. “I had a crush on you too.”

Tom turned away a little, suddenly feeling a sick feeling in his stomach. He didn’t like where this conversation was going.

“What?” He raised his eyebrows. “How did I not know?”

“Because I was awkward and shy and didn’t know how to talk to you.” You said sheepishly as you pressed a cold hand to your face. “But I swear, I told Michael and Anna all about it.”

Tom lowered his microphone so the crowd couldn’t hear him gulp. He didn’t know why it bothered him as much as it did to know you and Chris had feelings for each other. You had filmed Scott Pilgrim a few years back, so the feelings were long gone by now. Still, it sent a white hot jealously through Toms veins as he watched you and Chris smile at each other.

“I can’t believe you never told me.” Chris chuckled. “I actually remember being upset that we didn’t have a kiss in the movie. I was like, how am I playing one of her boyfriends but we don’t get to kiss?”

“Aw.” Tom forced a laugh. “Poor you.”

The audience laughed at his joke, but you never took your eyes off Chris.

“I was genuinely upset about it at the time.” Chris continued. “I think I called my mom to complain.”

Tom watched with a tight jaw as you held your hand over your heart and beamed. You were obviously loving the attention from Chris while Tom was hating it.

“Hey, I didn’t write the script.” You shrugged. “I definitely would’ve thrown one in there if I had.”

“I think the movie is perfect as it is.” Tom cut in, earning a few laughs. “I don’t think there needed to be a kiss. Kisses are stupid anyway.”

“Wait a minute, we almost kissed in the last movie too.” Chris remembered. “To like hide our faces from HYDRA agents or something.”

“That’s right.” You gasped. “They took it out before we ever shot it.”

“Such a shame.” Chris clicked his tongue as he shook his head. “Missed you twice now.”

The reaction from the audience made you hide your face in embarrassment, feeling your face hot to the touch.

“I promise, you’re not missing much.” You laughed shyly.

“Yeah, well.” Chris rubbed the back of his neck. “I bet I was.”

Just when Tom thought it couldn’t get any worse, he saw an idea pop into your head.

“Wait, hold my mic.” You said as you handed your microphone to Anthony.

Tom could only watch as you walked across the stage and put your hands on either side of Chris’s face before pulling him into a kiss. The audience was deafening as Chris kissed you back. It didn’t last long, but it was long enough to make all the color drain from Toms face. You both pulled away laughing, Chris with his signature hand over his left side. You clapped your hands as you laughed before walking back to your spot.

“Well damn.” Anthony said into his microphone. “I didn’t get to kiss her either.”

“Yeah.” Sebastian teased. “Do we all get some of that?”

“Shut up.” You laughed shyly as you fixed your hair. “There. Now you got your kiss.”

“Thank you.” Chris laughed into his microphone. “I was not expecting that.”

“Neither was I.” Tom mumbled, his microphone hanging limply at his side. The rest of the panel went by without any further flirtations, but Tom wouldn’t have known if there had been. He had completely zoned out, too upset with what he had seen to focus.

You unlocked the door to your shared hotel room and saw Tom sitting at the kitchen table. His face was buried in his phone and he skimmed through the endless amount of tweets about the kiss from earlier. It was only making him more angry to see thousands of gifs and pictures of it, as well as all the messages from fans saying what a cute couple you and Chris made, but he couldn’t stop. He was too busy scrolling to hear you come in.

“Hey.” You smiled at him as you set your stuff down. “You did such a good job out there. I swear, you always get the most laughs. It’s not fair.”

“Hm.” Tom nodded, keeping his eyes on his phone. “Thanks.”

“Is everything okay?” You frowned when you noticed his standoffish behavior. You walked over to him and reached out to touch him, but he moved away.

“Yeah.” He shrugged unconvincingly. “It’s fine. We’re fine.”

“I didn’t ask if we were fine.” You furrowed your eyebrows. “Are we not fine?”

“I said we were fine.” He held up his hands in annoyance. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay.” You rolled your eyes a little. “Sorry I asked.”

Tom gave you a sarcastic smile and went back to his phone, completely ignoring you now. You didn’t know what his problem was, but you knew you didn’t want to fight.

“Do you want to watch a movie or something? You can pick this time.” You offered, trying to offer an olive branch.

“Actually, I’m kinda tired.” He said faintly. “I think I’m just gonna turn in.”

“Really? It’s so early.” You checked your phone and saw it was only 8 pm. “And I’m bored.”

“Yeah?” He finally looked up at you. “Then why don’t you go see what Evans is up to? I’m sure he’d love to finish what you started on stage today.”

You jutted your head back in surprise, not expecting that to come out of his mouth. He looked partial to guilty for snapping at you, but his anger was the most prominent emotion.

“What?” You laughed in shock. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about you kissing Evans in front of all those people.” He snapped. “I didn’t even know you liked him like that.”

You laughed again, thinking he had to be joking. You never said it out loud, but you assumed Tom knew you liked him. After all, you were the only cast mates sharing a hotel room.

“I don’t.” You said, unsure where that accusation came from.

“Yeah?” He cocked his head. “Cause it kinda looked like you did.”

“I don’t.” You repeated. “I used to when we were filming Scott Pilgrim a few years ago but I stopped before we even wrapped.”

“Then why did you kiss him?” Tom asked, his voice wearing thin.

“I don’t know. We were joking around.” You shrugged it off. “It was for the fans, if anything. You know how much they love that stuff.”

“They would’ve loved it just as much if you had just blown him a kiss.” Tom said. “You didn’t have to kiss him.”

“Who cares?” You asked. “Everyone loved it.”

“Not everyone.” He stated, keeping his eyes on the ground. You looked at him for a moment, realizing you had never seen him act like this.

“Why are you getting so upset about this?” You asked calmly, still not understanding.

“Because what you did upset me.” He shouted as he gestured to himself.

“Why?” You raised your voice as well now. “It was just a stupid joke. It had nothing to do with you.”

“It wasn’t a joke to me.” He shook his head. “Watching you practically run across the stage to kiss him in front of all those people was not a joke.”

“I didn’t run across the stage.” You said, starting to get annoyed. “I walked to him and kissed him. That’s it. It’s not a big deal.”

“Did you like it?” He asked with an unreadable expression.

“What?”

“Did you like kissing him?” He repeated as he let out a shaky breath.

“You know how it feels to kiss other actors.” You shrugged. “It just felt like lips on lips.”

“You must have some sort of feelings for him to kiss him like that.” He said, his eyes looking glassy.

“So what if I do?” You retorted, angry with him now for yelling at you.

“What?” His voice came out in a whisper. “Do you?”

“Are you listening to anything I’m saying? I don’t have feelings for Evans. But if I did, it wouldn’t be any of your business. Because maybe you haven’t realized this yet, but you’re not my boyfriend.” You yelled, making him retreat into himself.

The silence that followed was deafening, making you feel guilty for what you said. You felt like you popped the happy bubble that you and Tom lived in, the one where you never confronted your feelings for each other but understood that they were there. Tom sucked in a sharp breath and let out a long sigh as he looked you in the eyes. He gave you a sad smile and nodded his head as if he was reluctantly agreeing with you. You opened your mouth to speak, but Tom was already moving past you. His shoulder brushed yours as he walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

You stood there in shock, unsure of what just happened. You felt like you had just broken up with someone you were never actually with. You covered your mouth with your hand, ashamed with what you had said to him. You hit him where you knew it would hurt him and now he was gone.

Despite sharing a hotel room, you didn’t see Tom until the next morning. He was eating breakfast at the kitchen counter, not looking at you as you made coffee. You sighed and sat down next to him, knowing you had to make things right before you went out to do press. You didn’t want to spend a full day doing interviews with him without resolving the fight.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you yesterday.” You began as you watched his face for his reaction. “It was mean of me to tell you you weren’t my boyfriend like that.”

“It’s okay.” He mumbled as he stirred his tea. “You don’t have to apologize. You were right. I’m not your boyfriend.”

“We need to talk about yesterday.” You said softly as you looked at him. You could tell he was still bitter about the kiss.

“I don’t want-“

“We have to.” You cut him off. “We had a fight and now we need to talk about it.”

He sighed and rubbed his eyes before slumping in his seat.

“You start.” You said as you put your folded hands on the table.

“I don’t know where to start.” He mumbled.

“Just tell me how you feel.” You suggested. Tom sighed as he put his words together in his mind, wanting to make things right just as much as you did.

“I didn’t like it even you kissed Chris.” He said softly, keeping his eyes on the table.

“I got that part.” You tried to joke. “Why?”

“Because he’s older and taller and bigger than me.” Tom listed off.

“And?” You were confused.

“And I can’t compete.” Tom whispered, hanging his head in shame. The fragility in his voice made your heart break and you realized he was never angry with you.

He was heartbroken.

“Tommy, you don’t have to compete with anyone.” You said softly as you stroked his cheek with your thumb.

“I didn’t think I had to.” He continued. “I thought I had you. I know we don’t really talk about…us, but I thought we had an unspoken agreement that we liked each other. I know I liked you and I thought you liked me back until you…”

“Until I what?” You asked.

“Kissed another boy.” He laughed sadly. “Sorry. A man. Captain freaking America.”

“You were jealous.” You realized, trying to fight back a smile. “That’s why you threw your little tantrum.”

“How could I not be?” He looked up. “Have you seen how broad his shoulders are?”

You had to laugh, which made him crack a smile. The tension had disappeared and you had entered new territory, so you decided to keep going.

“And have you seen the way I look at you?” You teased him. “Or the way I immediately go to you in a crowded room? Have you seen how I’m always finding a way to touch you? Does any of that sound familiar?”

“Yeah.” Tom smiled sheepishly. “It does.”

“I like you too.” You admitted. “Of course I like you too. But I already told you, that kiss was just a joke. It was just for the fans.”

“I know.” He sighed and rubbed his face. “It just shook my confidence, you know? I figured if he wanted you too, I didn’t stand a chance.”

“I don’t want him.” You assured him. “I want you.”

Toms lips curved into a smile, a proud look coming across his face. He reached over and put his hand on top of yours, rubbing small circles with his thumb.

“I never should have yelled at you.” He said quietly as he stared at your hands. “I just hated that he got to kiss you before I did.”

“I get that.” You nodded. “But you can’t flip out and yell at me when you get a little jealous. You have to be okay with me being close to other people.”

“I know. I’m sorry that I got so jealous.” He shook his head at himself. “I’m not that guy. I don’t want you thinking that’s who I am.”

“I know who you are.” You leaned over the table and tilted his chin so he would look at you. “Why do you think I like you as much as I do?”

“I like hearing you say that.” He mumbled, keeping his eyes on your lips.

“I like saying it.” You smirked at him as you began to lean in.

Before your lips could touch, his phone buzzed, making both of you jump. Tom sighed and picked up his phone to see what the interruption was.

“Shoot. That’s Rachel.” He frowned. “She wants me down at hair and makeup. Can we talk about this later? This is really important to me and I don’t want to rush it.”

“Of course.” You nodded. “Go get your hair done. We’ll talk later.”

Tom gave you an apologetic smile before getting up and putting his cup in the sink. He moved to the door but you stood up.

“Tom, wait.” You called, quickly walking to where he was. You put your hands on his shoulders and pressed a kiss to his cheek, letting it linger until you felt his cheeks heat up.

“I’ll see you soon, okay?” You told him, making him feel better about missing out on the kiss. He smiled softly and nodded before leaving the hotel room. You left to get your own hair and makeup done, an idea forming in your mind as you sat in your chair.

After getting hair and makeup done, you walked down to the lobby and went into one of the conference rooms. You saw the rest of the cast standing in a circle and went up to to them.

“There she is.” Anthony clapped as you walked up to the group. “Mrs. Evans.”

“Don’t start with that. You’re just mad it wasn’t you I was kissing out there.” You teased him, making him laugh.

“Maybe. I have a feeling I know who else is mad.” He said as he nodded his head to gesture to something behind you. You turned around and saw Tom approaching, a smile taking over your features at the sight of him. He gave you a knowing look and stood next to you as he joined the group.

“Hey guys.” He greeted, shooting Chris a quick look.

“There you are.” You smiled a little before grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him into a kiss. You felt his wide eyes flutter shut, eyelashes tickling you as he closed his eyes. He stepped forward to get closer to you before bringing his hand to face. The cast exchanged knowing looks right before you pulled away, a smile on both of your faces.

“Woah. When did that happen?” Scarlett nudged you.

“I thought it’d been happening for a while.” Anthony snorted. “Was I the only one?”

“No, I definitely saw something there. That’s why I was so surprised about yesterday.” Chris chuckled. You felt Tom tense up when he mentioned it, so you gave him a look. He relaxed and nodded, reminding himself he had nothing to be jealous of.

“I was surprised too.” He said, keeping his tone playful. “So don’t let it happen again.”

“I won’t.” Chris held up his hands. “Dodger and I are very happen on our own. He’s not willing to share me with anyone.”

“He and I have that in common then.” Tom said as draped his arm around your shoulders.

“Whats that?” You asked as you looked at Tom. He gave you a soft smile before pulling you closer to kiss your forehead.

“I don’t like to share.”

Tag List 🏷

@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @weirdr-artiest @serendipitous-amor @dummiesshort

@foreverxholland @lavender-writer @michaela072796 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101 @waiting-to-be-myself @letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr @tiny-friggin-human @mara-twins @iamaunicorn4704 @maryjanee23 @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland @flixndchill @sovereignparker @thisisthebiplace @spideydobrik @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @caelestii-e @eridanuswave @itscaminow @fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow @thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman @smilexcaptainx @quaksonhehe @kelieah @kickingn-ames @seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger @love-sick-blues @electraheart-3174 @unbelievableholland @yourtypicalhotmess @spideyanakin @horanxholland @thesuitelifeofafangirl @anapocalypseinmymind @marshxx @heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie @tomshufflepuff @cookiemonstermusic258

@maybemona @alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom @xo-spidey @im-still-tryin-to-find-it @big-galaxy-chaos @pandaxnienke @theincredibledeadlyviper @thestylestour @officialsimppage @mrvelscaptains @peterbenjiparker @itsemohours @okkulta @parkerlovebot @jungkxxkk @friendlyneighborhood-mendes @whatthefuckimbisexual @olixerwxxd @starkbrain @creatorofthegalaxy @f-hollands @ilovefrogs1000 @itstaskeen @itmatteredatthetime @wrendermeuseless @amazinggracy @iprobablyshipit91 @magicalxdaydream @whereismytelephone @theonly1outof-a-billion @leilanixx @namoreno @bi-lmg @dracoswhore007 @tomhollandloml @avengers-hamiltrash @sunshinepeterparkr @gh0stgurl @so-very-asleep @veryholland @white-wolf1940 @spideycheles @w0nderzwndaya @fanficaddict13125 @pinklxmonade @thebestqueenoftheworld @nowayhomeparker @willowestelle @imobsessedzs @spideyspeaches @bookfrog242

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x yn #tom holland x actress!reader #chris evans x reader #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst

2K notes · View notes

televisionboy · 3 years

Text

this gif is everything skdjdjfn and this is my first alphabet! so give me love and constructive criticism.

taglist: @punkgeekchic @visionsofsweettea @adoresobs @am4sawa @reblogsfandom @evarolines @somethingstuffy

Timothee Chalamet Fluff Alphabet

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Dates with Timothee are very very comforting and new at the same time. He LOVES getting out of the house and going to a city where shops are lining every corner and small cafes with coffee to die for. But he also loves to cook you dinner and rehash your days. He’s quite a domestic person.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

Timothee finds all of you attractive. But his favorite thing to do is whenever you’re reading a book or the two of you are watching TV, and you’re at one end of the couch and he’s at the other end, he loves to run his hands up and down your legs while they rest in his lap. Drumming his fingers against your knees is like a calming thing

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

He doesn’t talk, at all. He’s an incredibly patient boyfriend who will sit there with you and sync your breathing while hugging you. He will listen for hours and hours to you talk about it. And if not, he makes tea for you and offers cuddles and comfortable silences. I mean, either way he always makes tea.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

He would love a family with you, he knows you’d be an incredible parent to his children. But he’s content being young, having new experiences and getting to be spontaneous. If he had to think about it, he’d like one or two children and maybe a dog. Living in a cozy but spacious home, of course there’s a pool in the back.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

well, when he’s in the mood, jealous/mad he definitely will be dominant (and especially in bed) but he’s in no way so dominant that you will feel like his maid or a child. But he really doesn’t want to consider your relationship to be that way. Both of you are just you and treat each other equally.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

He gets cold when he’s fighting with you. Timothee’s a bit like a younger sibling while fighting, he knows how to push your buttons and won’t stop until he see’s a reaction. But he has that guilty feeling wash over him so fast. He’s very very easy to forgive you because how could he say no to someone like you??

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

SO GRATEFUL. He spoils like no other. If you point out that you like a pair of earrings, they’re yours (it doesn’t matter that they’re pure diamonds) you mentioned that you want to see Italy? Tickets booked. And a great thing about him, on top of being a good listener is that he has a great eye. And he picks up on things and is quick to notice them. Which is a big reason he’s so successful in acting. Even if it’s something as simple as washing the dishes so he can relax, to something as kind as making him your very own fan gift.. he melts every time.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Mmm, he certainly tries not to but everyone keeps secrets. There are things that both of you prefer to keep private but he wouldn’t keep something like him kissing another woman a secret.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

You’ve inspired him and fueled him to become a stronger actor even if you’re not one yourself. Some of your advice is seriously helpful, and some are unhelpful but hilarious. No matter what you will tell him, he knows you’re waiting at home or even at his set with open arms, waiting for him to win an award and fangirl online to other Timmy fans. It makes him blush and cause a billion butterflies to erupt in his stomach.

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

He trusts you 100% that you would never leave him, and he doesn’t want to be one of those boyfriends who restricts their partner. But there’s a part of him that’s incredibly insecure and is convinced you can do better. There are some parts that WANT you to leave him and do better. He would never ever show it in public, but you can read him well. You’ll put a hand on his bouncing knee and kiss his jaw.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

He knows he’s a damn good kisser as well as charmer. You had been on a couple of dates with him, on one you mentioned that it was on your bucket list to be kissed in the rain. He made sure to schedule a date when there would be rain and he took you on a picnic. Towards the end, it had started to pour and you were trying to run back to the car but he grabbed your face and kissed you so hard but so passionately. His curls were dripping and the sandwiches were ruined but the feeling was incredible.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

Rightttt after that kiss, in the car you were drying off and laughing with him while the radio was on in the background. The car was on but he wasn’t driving. Instead, he turned to you and told you he was in love with you. Both of you had said “love you” but never “i’m in love with you”

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

He’s on the fence about babies but he knows for certain that he wants to marry you. You know that scene in The Office where Jim shows the engagement ring for Pam and is like “I got it 3 weeks into dating”? That’s Timmy.

He brings you to a premire of one of his movies and at the end when all the credit’s are rolling, it says “y/n will you marry me?” and when you turn back around, Timmy is on one knee and Armie is most likely behind him crying his eyes out.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

“Babe” “Baby” “Mon cherie” When you two are married, he’ll join you in the kitchen while cooking dinner and call you “Mrs Chalamet” before kissing your shoulder and beginning to chop veggies. It’s just incredibly domestic

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

so so so obvious and so in love. He shows you off as much as possible and talks about you on talk shows until he’s sure that the audience is annoyed and SNL mocks him (and even then, he’ll continue)

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

he brags but he does know when to dial it back for your own privacy and humility. BUT that doesn’t mean he won’t hold your hand in public, or banter with you on a twitter thread even if you both are right next to each other on the couch playing footsie

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

He has a great eye and is quick to pick up on things. It’s almost as if he has certain senses and can tell when you’re having a bad day or upset. He just knows. It’s incredible. He’ll run you a bath and order cake to indulge yourself in before you even get home.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

The most sickley, fluffy, romantic, boyfriend that it makes me sick. Timothee would dye his hair rainbow and cut of his toes if it meant you would smile. On a more romantic note, he pulls out all the stops but it’s a bit more subtle?? Like he is very romantic but it’s not overwhelming. There’s no string quartet and private dining room but there will be jazz and dancing at midnight or a homemade “restaurant” with Timothee as a one man (messy) staff but it’s the best thing you could have ever come home to

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

He’s your head cheerleader and the most selfless human ever. Will cheer for you until his voice goes mute and even then, he’s the one clapping the loudest and crying the most.

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

both! Timothee is like a dog in some ways. He’s energetic and needs new things, to be outside, to be social. But he craves hugs and cuddling, he adores late night talks with you or watching you make him breakfast while he scrolls through Instagram. Like I said, a very domestic guy.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

He know’s you like the back of his hand and he could spot you with his eyes closed and only by feeling your face. He knows your habits, and the food you hate, your terrible cooking skills, and the kind of dad jokes you tell, the anxiety ticks, and what shows you’ll watch over and over again.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

He’d go insane without you. You’re addictive because you have a pure heart and a dirty mind and he falls in love the more you show that. He brings you back the weirdest things that remind him of you. Stationary cards with odd quotes, an antique necklace from the 40′s, peach earrings (because he enables your teasing)

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

He’s like the real version of “JOEY DOESN’T SHARE FOOD” but a little more loving lol “I love you, but I’m willing to defend my fries”

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

I said that he’s like a puppy! he needs kisses and scratches to his head (free scalp massage) and he’s a clingy puppy too. i mean, look at his eyes for the love of god.

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

he aches so bad. He is your cheerleader but he can’t function without you. You’re his cup of coffee, an antidepressant. He’s fangirling inside for your new project but when he sees your mug or reaches to bring you close to his chest and you’re not there, he’s unable to fall asleep or make a cup of coffee.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

He’d travel to Mars and back if you asked him to. Just ask him, and he does it. One time, he was working on a movie with an actress who was quite snippy to you and he quit immediately, feeling incredibly guilty and nauseous. He got you very expensive lox and bagels one morning because you were whining about it the previous night. He doesn’t want to close his eyes at night because there’s so many things he wants to do before he goes on to the next day. But when he closes his eyes at night, it’s all you, you, you, you, you and how much he’s overwhelmed with total adoration for you

#timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x you #timothee chalamet icons #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet smut #fluff #fluff alphabet #x reader #x you

801 notes · View notes

deanwasalwaysbi · 3 years

Note

I've gotta say, I find the concept of Bedlund trying to Ben-Hur Jensen absolutely hysterical. I'm just imagining Jensen getting a script and being like "Ben?? What's this? Is this gay? This seems gay????" and Ben just soothing him like a frightened horse.

Hahaha - Look it wouldn't be the first time. What is this verb we're working with? Okay. Strap in everyone. The Multi-Oscar-winning 1959 movie 'Ben Hur' had a bunch of gay subtext. The writer, the director, and the second lead actor all knew that Charlton Heston's character, Ben Hur, was gay. However, one person didn't find out until the 1990s: Charlton Heston. The consensus on set was "Don’t tell Charlton, because he’ll freak out." and when Heston found out in the ninties, freak out was exactly what he did. (x) [the movie may have gotten a reference from Misha back in season 6 (x)]

Whether this happened with Jensen on SPN depends on two things.

Was the character of Dean intentionally written as Bi and, if so, at what point did that become true?

Did anyone tell Jensen? Did he figure it out? if so, when?

I personally DO believe at this point, I really do, that Bedlund - Ben Hur'd Jensen. I think it was part of the writers room but not all of it, until it was. (Which RN I believe finally happened under Dabb.) I think Jensen wasn't in on it, until he was. So for me? I think he really was in the dark at one point. But at what point that changed? Probably only he can answer that question. and RN? He ain't talking.

In the meantime we can only look at things Jensen has said on the subject - Like this unbearably ambiguous GIF set from @nikadd. Was this tongue in cheek? Legitimate ignorance? You're killing me, Jensen. That cheeky lil smile, Jensen. Nvm - I'm going to kill you instead. It's for my own survival. No hard feelings right? You understand.

UH OH HERE COMES A CUT TO HIDE A LONG DERANGED POST...

We can look at the text for number 1 - and I do that uh - a lot - see the blog name #Dean Was Always Bi

For number 2 we can look over some points when we got clues from what Jensen thought was going on [regardless of whether they make sense based on his jacting or directorial choices I guess] and get left wondering whether at any point he felt pressured to lie for his career, for self protection, or to protect the narrative from the network:

2010 - 'We're missing the gay angel' (x) (Season 5 gag reel) (x) “Sorry man, not what the show’s about.” Jared: One of the good and bads about playing the straight [non-comedic] character on the show… Jensen: What wait? I’ve been playing him so wrong

2012 / S8 - Trenchcoat - Jensen talking about how sometimes they change the lines because they're way too gay. Calls Cas a third brother

2012 - "What's Destiel?" Ben Edlund: That’s some weird shit. Jensen: Is this something that you created, Ben? Ben: You don’t want any part of that.

“Don’t ruin it for everyone now” “I still don’t know what the question was. I’m going to pretend I don’t know what the question was.”

2013 @ JIB, re Dean’s reaction to Aaron’s flirting in the season 8 episode Everybody Hates Hitler, (x)

“And the scene wasn’t written to be that kind of - I mean - It was written to be awkward. Ben Edlund wrote the - my favorite line in that scene was ‘carry on . citizen’ that was - I almost couldn’t say that with a straight face I was laughing so hard. But it was - you know - it was comedy. It was a comedic moment in the show and fortunately Dean gets a lot of the comedic moments in the show and it was just, you know, Ben was poking fun at the fact that - you know, how can we make this very kind of manly, heterosexual guy uncomfortable - uh -you know, or or have him back on his heels and throw him off his game a little bit.”

The thing is - Bedlund and Phil Sgriccia made very clear on the commentary track that THEY saw this scene as a 'romantic comedy kind of fluster' "This potential for love in all places."

Ben Edlund calling the writer’s room a boy’s club in 2013 (x)

Misha Collins telling Destiel fans they aren’t Crazy in 2013 after some executives said they were (x).

2014 Jensen says he was glad there wasn’t much Dean and Cas in season 9 - HA Hah HAH (x)

“I think the whole Cas and Dean thing has gotten out of hand” “I don’t think there’s anything secret to their relationship even though a lot of people wish there was” REMINDER - that season we got the nightstands acknowledgement and “play him like a jilted lover” and the “he dumped me James” cut and -

I certainly know that Misha and I don’t play that. SIGH. they Ben Hur'd Jensen.

2014 - the fan fiction joke - 10.05

“I didn’t have a positive reaction, The first time in I think 200 scripts I went and sat down in the showrunners office and said, ‘What in god’s name are you doing?! Why? I need to understand why this is happening.’” “[Carver] gave very eloquent answers and did a great job of explaining why we were doing what we were doing, I guess I had been aware of this ‘fan fiction’ for a while and I felt like maybe if I ignored it, it would eventually go away. When I read it in the script that is what I do for a living and is my work—I’m very protective of these characters and the story and I think we have a right to be—I wasn’t angry. I just wanted to understand why and what was the message we were ultimately sending with this script and story. By the end of it, I felt good and it gave me all the confidence I needed. It was better than I could have ever hoped.”

But then there's Jensen in 2015 talking about all of Dean’s bromances. (x) [gifs at the top] Could go either way - starting to figure it out? or No?

What had changed if anything? the entire Crowely season 10 story line? This was July 2015 - the same day as the SDCC 2015 panel where Misha talked about Destiel (x @ 13) Carver and Dabb were there -

By this time Jensen and Misha were nominated for a teen choice award for best chemistry against various tv couples (and one ensemble cast, but the award nomination did NOT include Jared) .... Misha and Jensen would go on to WIN this award one month after the panel.

At the Panel Rob and Rich ask the question: “You two have branded yourselves as TV’s greatest team since, ... idk who.... Ernie and Bert so.” [Misha says to Jensen & Jared, half not on the microphone: “I really didn’t expect them to throw us under the bus.”] “are we going to see that continue? Is the Castiel Dean relationship still aflutter and still growing as we move into season 11?” Jeremy Carver: “Ish.” [mocking from panel ensues] “Yes. Of course. I mean Yeah. Absolutely. Yeah. There’s no doubt.”

Jensen Directs 11x03 and the choreo mimics Goodbye stranger (x)

2016 - Jensen: Dean could have a huntress, but you’d kill her.

Jan 2017 Con the infamous - no hedge - harsh - “Destiel doesn’t exist.” (x)

I would hope that if he knew he wouldn’t have been so harsh with it. So by that point either he still didn’t know - OR - to him ‘Destiel’ was specifically about internet porn/sex and not like - the potential for feelings / a relationship. It makes me think about something Misha had actually said, around 2013, “It’s called ‘Destiel’ and it’s about the romantic interludes between Dean and Castiel.” (x)

2017 - jib8 Jensen called Dean a lover of the ladies

May 2017 - After filming the end of season 12:

2018 - Misha confirms he and Jensen have talked about Destiel (x) - also 2018: The Bisexual Dean essay "? No." (Oh god was this really this recent?! I can't deal with this.)

Well. SOMETHING happened in 2019. cuz here it comes

2019 - "Dean has no taste, clearly." 2019 - 'So, tell us just a little bit about what you're most excited to tackle with your character this final season.' "Cas. Just like a full football form tackle."

Look at this face he gave Dean when Cas told him he loved him and tell me he wasn't playing into it here. You can't. (x)

262 notes · View notes

annab-nana · 3 years

Text

Piss Boy Peter - Tom Holland

When you’re best friends, sometimes the lines are blurred and feelings can be confused, but all it takes is one moment for Tom to realize he’s utterly in love with you.

Warnings: some curse words

Word Count: 2.5k+

--------------------------------------------------

“Hey, Mrs. Nikki! It feels like I haven’t seen you in forever! How have you been?” you gushed as you hugged the woman you would very much consider to be your second mother tightly in your arms. She rolled her eyes playfully at you before chuckling to herself.

“Y/n, you can just call me Nikki now. No need for the other part,” she grinned beautifully before continuing, “I’ve been good, sweetheart. We haven’t seen you in almost three years but we’re all so proud of you for graduating college early. I know how hard you’ve worked but we did miss you. The boys are somewhere around here.” As soon as her words were finished, the familiar pitter-patter of paws clicked against the hardwood flooring as one Tessa Holland came running up to you.

“Hi Tess!” you squealed while you bent down to let the pup show you how much she loved you. “I think you missed me the most, isn’t that right Tess?” you asked her as if she would speak right back to you. Her wide grin and generous licks told you that she did in fact miss you as she hopped into your lap while you petted her.

“Well, I don’t know about that. I think it might’ve been Tom,” Nikki piped up as she walked into the kitchen while the frowning boy appeared from the hallway.

“Mum,” he whined as if you did not already know he missed you the most. His red cheeks could be spotted from a mile away.

“Don’t be embarrassed, Tom. You are my best friend. You’re supposed to miss me the most.” He rolled his eyes and bent down to pet the incredibly happy dog who sat in front of you too.

“Tessa, what am I gonna do? I thought we got rid of her and now she’s back,” the boy joked as he talked to who he called his best girl, but he knew that Tessa was his second-best girl, and you were first.

“Oh, I can go back to The States if you’d like? I’m sure I’m missed over there a lot more than I am over here it seems,” you scoffed in faux annoyance and hurt which caused the boy to snicker. There was a reason he was the actor out of the two of you.

“Get over here, you div,” he told you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his embrace. However, since you both were on your knees just petting Tessa, you both toppled over onto the floor and Tessa wasted no time in joining the party as she wiggled her way between you and Tom. Your laughter sounded throughout the home as you two shared a tight embrace which was soon interrupted by someone clearing their throat.

“Harry!” you stated excitedly before getting up off Tom to give the boy a hug. You grew up around this family, so you were pretty close to them all and you had seen Tom a couple of times since you’ve come back to London. This was your first time seeing Harry in a year when he and Tom came to visit you during the week between your spring semester ending and your summer classes starting. The curly-headed boy let out a small ‘oof’ when your body collided with his, but he was quick to wrap his arms around you.

“Hey y/n,” he spoke above you as you swayed back and forth before pulling away to see Sam right behind him.

“Oh my God, Sam! Hi!” you shouted and gave him a big, long hug.

It had been three years since you saw the rest of the Holland’s. You got an amazing offer at a college in the US and had to go but that meant being away from your home, your friends, and your best friend, Tom. Tom had endured many phone calls where you were homesick and crying but he always assured you that London and all who inhabit it will be waiting for you when you get done. Thankfully, he came over there a good bit for filming purposes and he would always make sure to schedule a few days before and after and sometimes in between filming to spend time with you. Those days were the ones you treasured and held close to your heart, and you wouldn’t have been able to stay away if they hadn’t happened. And yes, you could’ve come back in the summers, but you decided to get it all done at once, taking summer classes and cutting a year off to graduate in three years instead of four.

“Y/n, how are you?” Sam asked as he pulled you away to look at you, a wide smile plastering his features at the sight. As you two kept up a conversation, Harry nudged Tom with his elbow.

“How long are you gonna stare at her, mate?” his younger brother inquired causing Tom to rip his gaze from you and look elsewhere.

“I just can’t believe she’s back,” he muttered before squatting back down to play with Tess, missing the eye roll and head shake from Harry.

“You losers ready to play some kickball?” Paddy shouted as he trotted down the stairs, stopping when he saw you and then running to give you a hug.

“Well hello to you too Padster,” you giggled while reciprocating the hug from the youngest Holland brother.

“Why didn’t you guys tell me she was coming?” he asked, arms still around you as he looked to his brothers.

“They didn’t know except for your mom who I texted like fifteen minutes before I came, but did you say kickball? You know I’d love to play if you let me,” you questioned and by the way the boy’s eyes lit up and he profusely nodded his head, you took that as a yes before he began to head outside. Sam and Harry followed but Tom hung back. “Are you not coming?”

“I’ll be out there in a bit,” he stated which was kinda weird seeing as he was normally so eager to get out and play with his brothers. Your brows furrowed and the mop of brown curls sighed. “Well, if you’re going to make me say it, I have to take a piss. Would you like to come along?”

“Ew no. Keep all that to yourself,” you grimaced before turning to the dog whose eyes flitted from you to Tom. “Come on Tess. Let’s go play outside,” you told her as you patted your leg to get her to follow. “See you out there in a bit, piss boy!” you yelled, closing the back door behind you.

“Hey piss boy,” he heard the soft voice of his mother snicker when she popped out of the kitchen, beckoning him over with the wave of her hand. He obliged and sat down on the stool across from her as she worked at making some tea for you all. “So, I bet you’re excited now that y/n is back,” she spoke up to start a conversation with her son. She has been talking to Harry a little recently about Tom possibly liking you more than a best friend. Harry confirmed her suspicions that it wasn’t too wild of an accusation so of course, she was going to be a little nosy and try to at least get Tom to hint at it. What a meddler mothers are.

“Well yeah. She’s my best friend and as much fun as she did have over there, she called me all the time crying because she missed London and her family and friends. I hate seeing or hearing her cry,” he spoke as he played with the hem of his shirt.

“So, she had a bit of fun, yeah? Did she meet anyone?” Nikki prodded on.

“She made some new friends that I know she’s gonna miss but she said that some of them are coming over here at the end of the month. Cam and Avery I think were their names. Cam was her freshman year roommate and then they met Avery one night at the library and the three hit it off,” Tom explained what he knew to his mum. He actually met Cam when he visited you, but Avery was never around when he was.

“So, she didn’t meet any new guys or anything?”

“Avery is a guy but they’re just friends as far as I know,” Tom told his mother as his eyes found the window and gazed out it to see you on the ground being attacked with loving licks from Tessa. He just couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto his lips at the view.

“What about you and her?” his mum interjected, effectively interrupting his trance on you.

“Me and her?” he inquired with a furrowed brow while his eyes found his mother once more. He didn’t understand what she was trying to get at.

“Yeah, you and y/n. Are you two together or do you look at all your friends that way?” she grinned to herself while busying herself with the tea. Heat rushed to his cheeks, and he shook his head immediately.

“N-no, we are just friends. Nothing more,” he mumbled as he let his face fall into his hands.

“But you want to be more?” she continued while Tom let out a sigh, his eyes wandering out the window again. You had gotten up now, Tessa right behind you, and you were walking over to where Paddy was with the ball. Your head snapped up to face Harry when he said something apparently funny and you threw your head back in laughter.

You looked so ethereal in that moment. Little pieces of grass in your hair thanks to Tessa rolling you around in it, a wide genuine and shining smile so radiant it was almost blinding, your shirt was kind of wonky since you were on the ground earlier and you had not bothered to fix it yet, but he liked the way it was sitting on your body beautifully. Everything about you and everything you did, the way you did it, was so captivating. You had Tom wrapped around your little finger and didn’t even know it. He had it bad for you and he hadn’t realized until now. His feelings for you, his true feelings that he could deny no longer, hit him like a freight train in that moment.

“Oh my God, Mum, I think I’m in love with her,” Tom whispered in shock as his wide brown eyes met her face which wore a knowing look.

“Darling, I’ve known that for years. I was just waiting for you to realize it.”

“Do you think she’ll like me back?” he pondered while his mother let out a laugh.

“Yes, just as I’ve seen you swooning over her for years, I’ve seen her doing the same for a while now too. Of course, she will like you back,” she reassured her son before looking out the window at her boys playing around. “She’s coming in, so I’ll leave you two.” His mother took off to somewhere else in the house as you walked in.

“What are you doing? I thought you were coming out after the bathroom,” you asked as you sat down on the seat next to his. Right then, you noticed something was off. You could feel it.

“Yeah, Mum and I just got to talking,” he stated, not giving you any sort of clue as to what was going through that brain of his. All you knew is that you wanted to help him.

“Hey,” you spoke softly as your hand reached out for his, “are you okay?”

“Yeah, I- yeah, we were just… uh, can I ask you something?” Now, you were definitely worried. Tom was only a stutterer when he was nervous and why he was nervous in your presence was beyond you.

“Um yeah always. What’s up?” You watched his eyes dart around the room before they landed on his own that rested in his lap, yours held between them.

“This is gonna sound weird, but- Fuck, I’m just going to say it. Do you wanna go out with me?” Hopeful yet cautious brown eyes gazed at you while the breath was knocked out of you.

“Like as your fake girlfriend to get you out of something or for real?” You had to be sure. You could not let your heart go into the fake thing again believing it was real. You did that once and you were heartbroken afterward.

“Something real. Y/n, I like you as more than a friend, more than a best friend. I don’t want to hide it anymore,” he confessed those words you’ve waited to hear for ages while hiding the small grin trying to show on your face before you spoke up again.

“Tom… I don’t know how to say this,” you started, still trying to mask your smile.

“You’re with Avery,” he assumed which you thought was a wild presumption but let it slide.

“Harry asked me out while we were outside.” Tom’s eyes widened and brows shot up. Well, he certainly did not expect that.

“I- uh, what? Really? I had no idea he felt that way,” he tried to play it off. He was never one to impose on his brothers like that and if Harry liked you, then he would for sure back away and let him have his shot with you. Tom would get used to just being your best friend. He’s done it for years so he could continue if need be. Then, you finally let your grin show before you burst into a fit of laughter. His raised brows lowered then furrowed, completely confused with the situation before him as you were doubled over giggling.

“No dumbass, but that’s what you get for making me wait so long,” you breathed out through your chuckles, watching the color return to Tom’s face and a feeble smile show itself on those thin lips you loved so dearly.

“O-oh, sorry,” he laughed nervously along with you before actually processing your words. “Wait, you like me back?”

You nodded your head while rolling your eyes at his stupidity. Wasn’t it painfully obvious? “Yes, I like you back, piss boy, and I will gladly go out with you too. Now, will you come out and play with us?” Well, how could he say no when you asked so nicely?

“Yeah, let’s go.” So, he got up first, you following him out to where the boys were, and you watched as he did a little skip before walking up to Paddy.

“So that’s where Peter Parker gets it from,” you wondered aloud when Sam came up behind you.

“He did the skip, didn’t he?” he asked before you nodded to answer his question.

“So, he made a move, and it went well?” Harry popped up on your other side.

“Yes, he did. He’s a lot more like him than people realize,” you mentioned when Tessa found your side again and watched everyone getting ready to play.

“Maybe, but he is no genius,” Harry quipped, causing laughter to erupt from you and Sam.

“Hey, I heard that!”

--------------------------------------------------

tag list: @rebelemilu @starrybrock @mxltifandoms06 @mendesblurb @dpaccione @msgorillagripcoochie @dpaccione @marjorie189 @sovereignparker @vintageobx @bibliophilewednesday @seventeen-reaction @drewstarkeysbitchh @tomsirishgirlx

click here to be added to the taglist

#tom #tom holland #tom imagine #tom x reader #tom fanfic #tom fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #marvel

158 notes · View notes

chainofclovers · 3 years

Text

Grace and Frankie 7x1 - 7x4 thoughts

Meh? Like...I love them so much, but...meh?

(I did enjoy this line about brunch.)

I really loved season 6 of Grace and Frankie. I thought it was well-paced, largely very well-acted, generally well-written, and it culminated in a massive moment of character development for the title characters, who, having spent years growing closer and being there for each other when others could not or would not be, finally articulate to each other that they are the primary person in each other’s lives. Platonic gal pal soulmate BFF emotional support witches 4 lyfe!

I know progress isn’t always linear, and in fact is very rarely linear, but after a moment that significant, you’d think the writers on this show would maybe come up with some more interesting things for these characters to do than spin in circles?

@bristler and I watched on Friday night, and just this morning over breakfast had a good conversation about the first four episodes of the new season now that they have settled in our brains a bit. We concluded that the writing (often noticeably clunky, like the dialogue is responsible for more narration than usual) and the tone (aggressively wacky) feel really off, especially compared to the prior season. I think we diagnosed the big issue, which is that Lily Tomlin and Jane Fonda are by far the most talented actors on this show (if you disagree, fight me in the parking lot) and it feels surprisingly unfortunate that their characters have, to this point in the new season, pretty much figured out their perspectives on each other. No matter how people feel about Grace and Frankie’s sexualities, the whole show has been about them finding each other and getting in deeper and deeper, and it’s less interesting to watch other characters have realizations about that than it is to watch Grace and Frankie having realizations about themselves. If the title characters are now limited to reacting to other people’s actions, and the title characters are played by the best actors on the show, the whole show’s gonna suffer. And is suffering, very much so, at least for these first four episodes. I’m definitely still excited for the final twelve in 2022 (twelve! I cannot believe this season will have sixteen eps!), but I’m pretty disappointed so far.

Stuff I Loved:

The family brunch. These families have been entwined for so long, and the backstory for this particular brunch was so fun (even though I didn’t care for the effects they did to depict Grace and Robert 25 years ago; there was no need for a visual flashback in the scene). I love that Grace hit Frankie with a wiffle ball bat. I love that the two couples realized some of the emotional reasons behind their decisions to lie to each other about Bud’s Bunny and about M’Challah. I love the way Jane Fonda sounds uttering the phrase “Bud’s Bunny” with little to no irony. I love that Grace is able to recognize and articulate just how deep and miserable her anger issues were, albeit with the continued help of her omnipresent martini, and that Frankie told her she’d now make up a holiday in order to spend more time with Grace. I really, really hope Frankie does exactly this at some point in the remaining episodes of the season. I love that Grace is generally a pretty good person now, with aspirations of being a delightful person. I love that she and Frankie don’t have it in them to stay angry with each other, and I love all the evidence that they really, really talk to each other about everything now.

Frankie talking to the man at the office (I don’t remember who he was supposed to be? A toilet manufacturer? I didn’t mention this before, but I actually got pretty high while watching?!? Believe it or not, this was the first time I smoked pot and watched Grace and Frankie at the same time despite having enjoyed both activities on their own for quite some time. I would recommend the combo! And I think I still pretty much got what was happening) about paying for the toilet parts with candy. This whole subplot with the money laundering was absurd and not that interesting, but I loved this particular scene because it was finally evidence of some really thoughtful writing. The concepts aren’t enough! You have to write them into good dialogue! And the whole cash/candy thing was a moment of dialogue that only someone as hilarious as Lily Tomlin could pull off. Which she did, IMO.

In a show about super messy people, Coyote has stayed sober this entire time. He is sober, employed, in love, and preparing to buy a full-sized house with his partner. He hasn’t murdered anyone in his family. Hasn’t even attempted murder once.

In 2017 or whatever, Grace Hanson would have been furious about Frankie using obscure Beatles references like a treasure map when hiding the cash. But here in 2021, she cooperates and even gets in on the fun. The writing is very unsubtle this season, but that did feel like a reasonably subtle moment that shows how good of a partner she is for Frankie. (Platonic, of course! So platonic. Female friendship, amirite?)

Stuff I Did NOT Love and Felt Incredibly Negative About:

Brianna. I can only conclude that June Diane Raphael has decided she’s happy with playing a character whose primary role in life is to be hot and mean. She succeeds at being hot and mean, but I have reached my limit with this character. I realize we’re only a quarter of the way into the season, but I don’t think I can take another arc about her learning to compromise only to reveal to Barry that she never intended to compromise at all. At this point, it’s both abusive and boring. How?! The Grace/Brianna parallels aren’t interesting anymore, because one character has grown and the other is stagnant. I get that Brianna was raised in an emotionally stilted environment by two unhealthy people. But I think it would be very cool if she could learn something from her mother at this point. Grace has put a ton of effort into dealing with her “rabbit-killing, mad-at-the-world anger.” She’s put a ton of effort into figuring out what makes her happy, what she wants her life to look like. She’s even started accepting her age and abilities without shame. And that growth is believable; Grace is still short-tempered and she still slugs back way too many martinis and she struggles to articulate certain things, but she’s grown into a truly lovely human. And while, as a daughter with a mother, I can absolutely attest to the fact that it can be difficult and uncomfortable to learn lessons from one’s mother, Brianna really, really should. Grace spent decades letting anger and shame trap her in a small, miserable life. Brianna—and even Mallory, who just seems like a vapid idiot this season—are traveling that same path, but there’s someone right there who could really help, maybe even more than Frankie helped when the Hanson girls were first growing up.

The arraignment. The scene might’ve been salvageable if it was filmed from Grace’s perspective, and filmed to reflect how surreal and improbable it all was. But speaking of non-linear progress, this scene erased everything Nick Skolka has done to put himself in my good graces (LOL) over the past couple seasons. I mean, I tried, man. I even wrote fic about Nick, Grace, and Frankie making a genuine effort at polyamory. But the arraignment is so emotionally manipulative, such a slap in the face of everything Grace has worked for, and while we’re certainly “supposed” to feel the weight of the moment, I mean, it’s not like we’re supposed to be like, “Oh, cool, we’re in a rom com now! This is adorable!” it still felt bad and unearned and slapdash.

And I want Frankie to process these things with her! Frankie seems so happy to have all this information about Grace and how Grace feels, but I want to see scenes in which we can gain an understanding of how Frankie actually feels. Hearing Frankie talk to other people about how Grace feels is interesting, but it’s like there’s no room in these episodes for us to learn anything new about Frankie herself.

Grace’s transitional wig. Is so. Bad. It is. Such a. Bad wig. Oof. I mean, I like what they’re doing with Grace’s hair from a plot perspective, although (see one bullet up) I would really like to get more of an understanding of what’s happening in Grace’s head, not just on top of her head. And gosh, Frankie would be a really good person to talk to about this in a conversation that lasts longer than 30 seconds. But the wig! She’s in a wig in all four episodes, of course, since Jane Fonda went grey and cut her hair short before they started filming this season. The wig for episodes 1 and 2 is fine; it’s a good approximation of Grace’s typical hair, and of course we know that canonically Grace’s hair isn’t 100% her own hair anyway. But the wig with grey roots looks so weird. The part that’s growing out doesn’t look the same as the hair on the wig from 1 and 2. And the grey roots look like a yarmulke. I cannot wait to get to the point in the season when Grace goes all the way grey.

(One more thing about the hair. I can’t let it go. I paused the show while we were watching to rant, but I’m not done.) I had the great privilege of seeing Jane Fonda in person at a protest in 2019. She is an insanely beautiful human. She was growing her hair out and it was partially dyed blonde and partially grey. It looked really cool. I am not ashamed to say I spent that day learning many things about the climate crisis and about Jane Fonda’s hair. Having seen her in real life with her real hair looking that fucking great, I just have a an extra-large grudge against everyone involved in that horrible wig. The wig is necessary, but it didn’t have to be this bad.

What Do I Care About Now?

I am pretty intrigued by the way Grace threw out her real age in a conversation with Nick and Elena. She has nothing to fear anymore! She’s so chill about aging! What could go wrong? I assume that Nick and Elena maneuvering for Nick to be on house arrest in Grace's house specifically has to do with the fact that Grace is 82. She’s gonna find out that Nick is allowed to be with her because she’s ancient and helpless and the court took pity. Or something like that. She’s going to feel betrayed on top of feeling stifled and overwhelmed by Nick’s presence. I want to see where this goes for sure.

Other than that, and other than the fact that I really do continue to believe this show is moving in a direction in which Grace and Frankie will choose each other, I feel very whatever about this whole thing. I love this show and I will always appreciate this show for giving me some incredible characters to spend years of my life writing about, and for bringing me some pretty amazing friendships. Speaking of those friendships, yesterday @ellydash and @telanu and I were talking about some of the incredible TV we’ve watched recently, like Ted Lasso and Hacks and Fleabag and Killing Eve, and how great it feels to watch beautifully written TV crafted by writers who are profoundly—organically yet intentionally—attuned to even the most minor character’s rhythm. The disappointment of these first few episodes of the new G&F season feels like a mild disappointment rather than a sharp heartbreak, and that has a lot to do with being deeply invested in other shows that could also go in all kinds of different directions but with writing I fundamentally trust.

Also Jane Fonda and Lily Tomlin are my forever faves and my appreciation for their performances and general awesomeness onscreen and in life is undiminished. So that’s pretty cool.

#grace and frankie #meta by me #grace and frankie s7 spoilers #a lesbian watches ted lasso #grace hanson is a gay disaster #except #she's not even a disaster anymore #she's totally fine and men keep bothering her!#frankie bergstein is a bisexual mess

58 notes · View notes

doiefy · 3 years

Text

after party // lee taeyong

genre: celebrity au, fluff pairing: taeyong x gn. reader word count: 1.1 k warnings: alcohol

You’ve just wrapped up filming for your first full-length film—and it seems your co-star has something to say to you before it all comes to a close.

note: this is the after party for shadow, the movie taeyong and the reader featured in (i had to write this to recover from the trauma of writing the screenplay but anyways). there are very very mild spoilers, though a lot of the references might not make sense without the context of the film.

It’s strange how vastly different your castmates are from their characters on screen.

Presently, the diligent assistant is ten drinks too far into drunken stupor, giggling to himself on the couch and having a conversation with—well, no one in particular; it’s probably just some remnant of the script still running through his brain. The alcoholic best friend to the female lead is busy coaxing water into a very drunk android, and the two sworn enemies are playing beer pong, downing cup after cup regardless of how the game is actually played. Across the room, Dejun sticks his tongue out at you, then feigns disgust when you lazily give him the finger. Dejun, he’s still the same.

And what’s stranger: sitting in a room in which all the other actors and actresses have had at least half a decade of experience in the industry. Blue Dragon winners, seasoned idols, the most eligible young talents of South Korea—although now that they’re all drunk, they could easily pass as anything else. And then there’s you. You and your first ever full-length film after dozens of short films on YouTube… it doesn’t quite register yet, that you’ve made it this far. You owe it to Dejun, you guess, for sending you a link to the auditions a couple months ago.

You sigh, downing the rest of your drink and settling back into your seat so you can take in all 1000 square feet of Mina’s apartment; you’ve been meaning to decorate your new place, and the pearly whites and golds of her living room bring all sorts of ideas to mind. You make a mental note to ask where she got that painting—

“Hey.”

You nearly lurch out of your seat, turning to see someone coming up the stairs. Your breath catches in your throat; Taeyong’s dressed in a white shirt and blacks jeans, hair swept back. Filming ended only yesterday, and yet he’s already dyed it back to its original colour. It looks good. Better than the red.

“This seat taken?”

You laugh. “You don’t see anyone else hiding up here, do you?”

The bookish assistant is a wild party animal, the alcoholic is the motherly one of the group, and the reluctant allies are actually in a long-term relationship, yet Taeyong embodies his character fully. Perfectly. The role was made for him, and when he sits down next to you, you feel as though you’re on set again, waiting for the cameras to roll. He’s charming in a quiet way, charismatic but humble, inconspicuous despite the numerous awards he has under his belt; two years ago, if someone told you you’d be acting alongside him, you likely would have passed out at the mere mention of his name.

“Parties aren’t your thing?” He asks casually, glancing over at your empty cup. He offers you one of the beers he brought up and reluctantly, you take it. You’ve only had one so far. Another will be fine.

“Trust me, I’d be passed out on the ground if I didn’t have a schedule tomorrow morning,” you tell him with a wry smile. “Showing up to ODG hungover? For an interview with kids? That sounds so wrong.”

“Nervous?”

“A little.”

He laughs. It’s a bright, cheery sound that cuts through the bass-boosted music, easing your worries a bit. A sign of unrestrained contentment, something unlike his screen character, who would surely be suppressing some sort of dark thought in this moment. “They’ll love you. I’m sure.”

“Thanks.”

You settle into a comfortable silence. Well, as silent as it’ll get anyways. Taeil has now gotten off the couch and is chasing Jungwoo around the room, yelling his lines. Yuta and Jisoo are trying to see how much beer they can put in a red solo cup before it overflows, like it’s not obvious enough. Finally, Taeyong sighs, looking over at you. Melancholically. Or maybe nervously. You can’t quite tell until he speaks, at which point you realize it’s the latter.

“Could I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

He takes a sip of his drink like he’s preparing himself, screwing up courage; you’ve never seen him like this, and it worries you, what he’s about to ask.

“I haven’t really told anyone about this,” he starts, stealing a glance at you before returning his eyes to the rest of your costars. Yuta waves at him drunkenly. He waves back. “I’ve been thinking about taking a break from acting.”

You certainly weren’t prepared for that. “Oh,” is all you manage to get out, and he gives a quiet chuckle.

“No, not like that. Not because of anything—” He breaks off, laughing. “I’ve just been… thinking about doing my own writing. Directing, maybe. Nothing too grand, of course, maybe a couple of shorts.” He glances at you hopefully. “I was hoping you’d be interested.”

“Me?!”

The word is out of your mouth before you can stop it, and suddenly you wonder if you sound like the main character of some sappy teen romance, the quirky hero who doesn’t believe in themself until their rag-tagged group of friends forcibly pushes them to greatness. You must look completely caught off-guard, a deer in headlights, because he giggles a bit, patting you on the shoulder reassuringly.

“Of course,” he says and his lips quirk upwards into a coy smile, something almost cat-like. It’s cute. “You’re wonderful, _____. Give yourself more credit.” A pause. “Though don’t feel pressured to. I know this is just the start of your career, and if taking part in some small project like mine might hinder your own goals in the industry—”

“What was that about credit, Lee?” You ask teasingly. He blinks. “I’d love to. Honestly, I’m not so sure if all this big movie business is really for me. Short films and community theatre productions… that’s where it all started for me. That’s where I’ll always be.”

“Don’t hold back though,” he says. “You have potential. I mean it.”

You’ve heard it from countless representatives, countless agencies, countless other actors. Meaningless words whispered in your ear in hopes that you’ll sign a contract with them. But from Taeyong, after working with him for months, after staying up night after night rehearsing with each other, you know it’s genuine.

“Thank you, Taeyong.”

He gives a soft laugh, and before you can register what’s happening, his lips brush against your cheek. The heat rises rapidly to your face, and you turn around in surprise. He meets your eyes shyly.

“It was a pleasure working with you, ____. I look forward to doing this again.”

You smile. “Likewise.”

81 notes · View notes

jjmaybud · 4 years

Text

sunrise | drew starkey

summary: you get a job writing for outer banks and get close to the cast, one more than the others.

pairing(s): drew starkey x fem!reader, fem!reader x platonic!outer banks cast, fem!reader x little!brother

word count: 3.36k

warning(s): fluff, swearing, alcohol use.

author’s note: I had the cutest idea when I was taking a power nap. this is my first time writing an imagine as well as my first time posting something like it on tumblr. I hope you like it. (Y/B/N=your brother’s name.)

It was your first day on the set of Outer Banks. You had already got through the hard part of working with the original writers on the script for the new season. You were quite young compared to the other writers, being in your early to mid-twenties, and the only woman. You were pretty stunned that you had gotten a call about their wanting your creative insights.

You had already met the cast and loved every single one of them. Since you were now a writer, you were present during their script reading and offered help when it was needed. Each member treated you with love and respect, and you loved that you were able to fit right in. Madison Bailey made sure to come up to congratulate you on landing the job because “we needed a female perspective too, fuck the patriarchy.” The both of you high fived because, hell yeah, girl power.

You intently watched as each actor read through their script. The chemistry between each of them was magical, and you couldn’t believe you were able to witness it first hand. As your eyes scanned the room, you’d make the occasional eye contact with Drew Starkey, the actor who played Rafe Cameron. A shared, polite smile came from the both of you each time you noticed your eyes locked.

Drew proved easily that he was nothing like his character, not that you thought he was, by coming up to you directly after the reading was over to introduce himself.

He held out his hand and stated his name. You took his hand in yours, giving him a firm handshake and noticing how warm his hand was without the sweat or claminess.

“Y/N,” you introduced yourself in turn, even though he already knew who you were from the beginning of the meeting when they introduced you. “I’ve seen a few of your other works, too. I think you are a perfect cast for Rafe.”

A modest blush appeared on his cheeks as he grinned. The conversation went on a few more moments, but there were a couple other cast members who wanted to get a few words in with you.

Now, you were standing on set, watching Rudy and Madison shoot a particularly serious scene that you had a good hand in writing. Rudy’s character, JJ, was talking about the reality of being a Pogue. That you were born poor and eventually died poor. That the gold was his chance to not die living the same life he’s always had. The sun was setting, and it would add to the dramatic effect of his words cinematically. JJ’s monologue hit close to home, as it did when you wrote it, and you had to walk away to have a moment.

Drew’s scene had just wrapped, and he was done for the day. He found you walking past where the scene had taken place and watched you step up on a sandbank to get on higher ground, making sure you weren’t in anyone’s way. As the day’s final rays of sunshine slowly disappeared, he saw your left hand in the air to hold onto it for as long as you could before it was gone and it was left lighting up the rest of the sky in an orange hue. Your hand fell and both of them placed themselves on your jean cladded hip. He didn’t know how you were handling the heat in jeans even though they had large rips in the front. The peach colored tank top was the only thing that made sense. Your head fell back with your eyes closed, and he could hear the sigh from where he was standing.

It dawned on him that he was staring at you.

To make it less awkward, he made his way up the sandbank to stand next to you. He noticed the sweat and realized you actually weren’t handling the heat as well as he thought. When he noticed the tear in the corner of your eye, he looked out towards the horizon respectfully. He watched as boats were sailing back to shore from their day’s worth of fun in the ocean and as lights flickered on along the boardwalks.

You knew someone was standing beside you as you had your moment. Their arm brushed your elbow in the humid air when they first came up to you. You could smell their cologne and deduced that it was Drew. Somehow, from the first time you had met, you stored the way he smelt in the back of your mind. It was quiet as a small breeze picked up, blowing the hairs that had escaped from your ponytail and the sand stuck to your exposed legs. It did little to cool the two of you down.

You knew he was waiting for you to speak, not wanting to intrude on your moment of solitude.

“I grew up poor in a small, middle-class town in the middle of corn fields,” you began, not opening your eyes or lifting your head. You could feel Drew’s eyes on the side of your face as you confessed your change of mood. You were ecstatic to be where you were, working alongside great writers, directors, and actors, and had the same energy all throughout the day. No matter what was thrown at you—a scene didn’t work the way you thought, a scene needed to be added to smooth out some awkward cuts between other scenes, an actor needed help getting to the frame of mind the scene needed—you took it in strides and was up for the challenge. “Dreaming is the only way to get out of there. And I did. I dreamed of all the ways I could get out of that stupid town. Picked something I was good at. Stuck with it. Stayed angry until I made it. And today—”

You opened your eyes and turned to look into Drew’s. You managed to keep eye contact for a few moments before you got too shy and turned to look at the cast and crew milling about.

“Watching Rudy do his scene made me realize—”

“You made it,” Drew interrupted, making you turn back to him. Tears gathered in your eyes, and his facial expressions softened.

You nod, “And I don’t have to be angry anymore.”

You started to laugh and wiped the tears away as best as you could, but the gates had opened. Drew aw’d and pulled you into his chest while wrapping his arms around your shoulders despite the heat.

“Group hug?” You heard Rudy yell. The sound of his feet scraping against pavement before silence as he trudged up the sandbank and wrapped his arms around you and Drew. “Group hug, everybody!”

You turned your head in time to see Chase, Madelyn, Madison, and JD racing towards the three of you—the other cast members were either already in their trailers or gone for the day. You felt Rudy lay his head between the top of yours and Drew’s chest, humming in satisfaction. Madelyn beat the other three, and she found the perfect spot on your other side, laying her head on Drew’s arm and looking down at you with a smile. You smiled back at her but was blocked from seeing where everyone else had ended up.

After enough seconds passed where you were sweating worse than before, JD asked from behind you, “Why are we group hugging?”

“I have no idea. I saw Drew and Y/N start it,” Rudy answered.

You catch Madelyn wiggling her eyebrows causing you to laugh.

Drew cleared up the confusion and said, “She had the moment.”

A chorus of “ah’s” erupted through the group, and you sunk deeper into Drew’s chest. Heat swam from your neck up into your cheeks, and it wasn’t because of the weather.

“Don’t worry,” Chase said from somewhere behind Rudy. “We all had that moment at some point.”

A few more seconds passed of you being sandwiched between everyone’s sweaty bodies before you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Alright, alright. I can’t do it. I’m going to sweat my skin off if we keep touching each other,” you announced. Everyone was thankful for your outburst as they quickly pulled away and tried to air themselves out. Your hands went to your chest as you tried to wipe away the excess sweat build up. You saw Drew tugging his shirt open and close to air out his chest, and that’s when you noticed the cleavage shaped sweat spot on his shirt. “Oh, shit. You don’t have any more scenes today, do you?”

You started to quietly laugh as you grabbed his shirt to inspect the mark you made. Your eyes turned up to look him in the face and found a smile on his face as he looked down on you. You felt your cheeks heat up once again.

“Nope, you got lucky. You would’ve had to explain to wardrobe why I had to change my shirt.”

You tried to shove him away, but he only budged a little and that was just because of the unstable sand beneath the two of you.

∴∵∴∵∴∵∴

“Okay, what are the rules?” You asked your little brother as you prepared to host the cast at your apartment. It was one of the few weekends where the cast and the crew had a few days off to recuperate. Your teenage brother had been begging to come down to meet the cast and see how his favorite show was being made since he found out you would not only be writing for the new season but on set of filming.

“Don’t be weird, and don’t hit on the girls.”

“Good.” You grabbed an oven mitt and reached into the oven to pull out the pig-in-a-blanket you’d made for the get together. As you were doing this, there was a knock on the door. “Y/B/N, could you get that?”

You put the pan on the stove as your brother opened the door. You heard your friends before you saw them. Cheers erupted from them as they saw your brother and a mixture of handshaking and hugging went around as they shuffled in.

Drew was one of the first inside your apartment. He was wearing a grey sweatshirt and jeans in the cool, air conditioned apartment complex. In his hand was a six pack of beer, and he looked around for the kitchen before laying his eyes on you. A smile broke out on both of your faces as your eyes met.

Over the month of shooting, the two of you had been getting closer. You had exchanged numbers with most of the cast, but he was the only one you had been texting every day. Most of it was what you considered harmless flirting as you sent cheesy pickup lines, memes, and song suggestions, but you didn’t really know where your relationship with him was heading. You wanted to keep it professional, but you couldn’t deny what your heart was telling you.

The both of you stepped towards each other.

“Hey, Y/N. Thought you said your little brother was coming to town?” Drew teased, pointing out the fact that your little brother was, in fact, closer to Drew’s size than your own.

You stood up straighter and stood on the tips of your toes as you flexed your exposed arms to seem bigger.

“What do you mean? Can’t you tell I’m bigger?” You kept this up until you were able to chest bump him. It hurt you more than it did him. The sound of your laughs rumbled through each other’s chest as you hugged. It didn’t slip your mind how much closer your lips were when you stood on your tiptoes.

The night went on, more drinks went around, games were played—including a game of monopoly split up so it was girls vs pogues vs kooks where they were trying to see who was actually better at handling money. The girls won. You sat near Drew, and there were enough “accidental” touches that your little brother, who was sitting diagonal from you by Deion and Madelyn, was picking up on the vibe that he had not been aware of beforehand.

It was going on four in the morning before you noticed that your little brother was slumped into the chair he was sitting on, his head bobbed with sleep. The group lost Deion, Austin, and Madison, but everyone else was still going pretty hard. Drew’s participation in the group’s discussion got quieter, but you could tell it was because his eyes were getting heavier as he sunk further into the couch. You finished the rest of your beer before standing up to convince your brother to move to your bedroom. It wouldn’t hurt for you to sleep on the couch or the floor.

When you came back, the energy of the group died down as they realized just how tired they were as well.

“Damn, four in the morning. You know how to throw a party, Y/L/N,” Chase said as he pulled Madelyn up off the floor. JD was at the door trying to pull on his shoes while standing up but kept losing his balance. Eventually, he just gave up. Rudy was passed out in between the couch and the coffee table with half of his body under the table. Drew’s eyes were closed, his hands clasped on his stomach, and his feet planted on the floor with Rudy’s legs under him.

“And we didn’t even have to leave the building,” you laughed. You hugged the three friends as they were the only ones prepared to leave—with the exception of JD who decided to just carry his shoes. Once they left your apartment, you stumbled in your slightly intoxicated state to the coffee table and picked up all the empty beer bottles. As quietly as you could, you dumped the trash in the garbage can before getting into the fridge to grab yourself another beer.

You walked over to the door leading to your balcony. The beer in your hand almost slipped out of your grip when you heard Drew’s voice from behind you.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice soft but still too loud in the quiet room.

“I’m gonna drink one more out on the balcony. Wanna come?”

It took him a second, but he eventually nodded his head and prepared to lift himself without waking Rudy. When he was finally on his feet, he stumbled slightly making you laugh quietly. A tired smile played on his lips at the sound. You held the door open for him before sitting down on the bench pressed against the window on your small balcony. Drew sat down next to you and allowed you to rest your legs over his lap. His hands found your bare calves, and he rubbed his thumbs on the exposed skin. You opened your beer and sipped it as you stared out to the dark sky. It was a comfortable silence until Drew noticed the little chill tremors shooting through your body.

“Cold?” You nodded which prompted him to pull off his grey sweatshirt to give to you.

“You don’t—” Your words stop in your throat as he holds the sweatshirt out to you. You sit up and hand him your beer to hold as you pull the sweatshirt over your head. It was a great deal larger than you, and your hands swam in the sleeves, but you loved the way his cologne engulfed you.

After you were situated back with your drink, Drew said, “Your brother’s cool.”

You smiled, “Yeah?” He nodded. “I told him not to be weird. He’s a big fan of the show.”

Drew smiled a dopey smile and teased, “Turns out he ain’t the only one.” Your brows furrowed in confusion which only made him smile bigger. “You were quoting Outer Banks the entire night.”

Your eyes widened, “I didn’t!”

He laughed out loud and nodded his head, “You did. No one really noticed because we do it too sometimes.”

There’s a pause before you deadpan, “I must’ve been under duress.”

He threw his head back this time as he laughed and you giggled watching him. The banter went back and forth effortlessly as time went on, and Drew’s hand had made its way up to your knee. You noticed the sky was lighting up from the pitch black it had been.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen an actual sunrise,” you admitted, taking the last sip of your bottle and placed it on the ground.

“How is that?”

You shrugged, “I mean technically I’ve never seen it rise from the horizon. I always had too many trees in the way.”

It was quiet for a few minutes as you watched the sky become brighter and brighter. You really wouldn’t be able to see the sunrise from here either. Your apartment faced the wrong way.

“The beach is just down the street,” Drew pointed out. “We could get there before sunrise.”

“Really?” Drew nodded.

The next thing you knew, the two of you were racing down the street in order to beat the sun. The two of you giggling as you more so than Drew stumbled down the street. Laughs filled the air as you launched yourself over a bench to land on the sandy beach. The sky was much brighter, and there was only a few minutes left before the sun would be peeking over the Atlantic Ocean. The breeze was cooler in the morning, and you turned into Drew’s side to keep yourself warm, holding his arm close to your body.

The first rays of sun poked through and all thoughts of your warmth washed away from your mind. Stepping closer to the rolling waves, you raised your left hand to the sky. Similar to what you’d done the first day on set during sunset. Drew had asked you why you did it, and you told him it was because you wanted to be the last one to say goodbye before it came back tomorrow.

Unbeknownst to you, Drew held his hand up to the sky with you. He wanted to know why it was important to you. What went through you that made this simple gesture needed? The sun finally peaked up from behind the horizon. You looked up to see the sun caressing your hand as if to say good morning to you. Your eyes fell back to the sunrise as a smile spread across you lips.

You felt someone’s fingers intertwined with yours, and you turned to see Drew with his hand held up to hold yours. You glanced at your hands as the sun danced down your arms and enveloped his face in its rays. Your breath hitched in your throat as you brought your hands down next to you. The two of you turned your bodies so they were facing each other and watched the sun lighten up your features.

His blue eyes were soft in the sunlight, and his lips looked softer. His clear skin radiated as the sun flickered over it. The breeze blew his ungelled hair in slow tugs, and you couldn’t fight the feeling spreading through your chest as the sunrise warmed it.

“I think I like the sunrise on your face better,” you whispered.

The hand that wasn’t holding yours placed itself on the side of your neck. Drew’s eyes glanced at your lips before they closed and his lips were on yours instead. The kiss was slow and affectionate. The warmth of the sun couldn’t compare to the warmth that erupted from his touch. You wanted to bask in him for as long as you could and even then, you wanted to face the night with him.

After a long moment, you regrettably pulled away and met his forehead with yours. His eyes were still closed and a content smile replaced your lips. Your face mirrors his as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

There in the quiet, with the threat of a hangover in your future, you and Drew stood in the sunrise.

#drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #outer banks #obx #drew starkey x reader #rafe cameron #outer banks fic #outer banks imagine #obx imagine #rafe cameron imagine #drew starkey fluff #outer banks fluff #obx fluff #rafe cameron fluff

406 notes · View notes

phantomnostalgist · 3 years

Photo

An Interview with Peter Karrie

From “POTO: The Phantom of the Opera Magazine”, Millennium Edition (2000), published by Carrie Hernandez. (This btw is the greatest Phantom fan publication ever made, and if you ever see it on eBay you should snap it up. I don’t even have my copy because it’s with Paul, who conducted this interview with Peter in 1994.)

Enormous thanks to @panto-of-the-opera for typing this interview up for me!

Peter Karrie, interviewed by Paul Day Clemens:

Since falling under the spell of “POTO” (the day the Original London Cast album (OLC) became available in the U.S.) I’ve seen many fine – and a few brilliant – Eriks but only two performers have ever made me feel I was in the actual presence of the Phantom himself. One was Michael Crawford – yes, he really was that special (and you can forget the OLC which is but the palest shadow of what he was like on stage!) – and the other is Peter Karrie.

Commanding, dangerous, elegant, chivalrous and heart rending with an unparalleled physicality and wealth of detail, Peter not only made the role his own, completely, but by some rare and strange alchemy, somehow managed to make me forget I was watching a performance at all.

Thrilled, hypnotized and deeply moved, it was not until visiting with Peter after the show that the full impact of his transformation hit me. How could this warm, funny, soft-spoken, down-to-earth guy possibly be the same man I was watching on stage not an hour before hand?

Therein lies the difference between craft – albeit of a rare excellence – and true inspiration. Dare I even say greatness?

Yeah, I dare. For Mr. Karrie’s Phantom is simply one of the greatest portrayals by an actor in the musical theatre that I’ve ever had the privilege of experiencing.

I had the great pleasure of interviewing Peter at length in December 1994 in Toronto as he was getting ready for the Far East tour of “POTO” and what follows here are never before published excerpts from the interview. – Paul Clemens

Paul Clemens: Do you find that the role of the Phantom makes enormous demands on your voice, in terms of the wear and tear of doing at night after night? If you had a sore throat, for instance, would you be able to get through the show?

Peter Karrie: Yeah. You learn I guess. All professional singers in theatre have to cope with colds and sore throats. Otherwise you’ll be forever off ‘cause it’s a breeding ground of germs. And you develop your voice for stamina over a period of time where you’re doing eight shows a week. You have to. You have to survive it.... So, basically, yeah.

You take the angel [scene] for instance where [the Phantom is] absolutely broken. I’ve had very, very bad laryngitis and I’ve sung that and it sounded great! Simply because you’re breaking down in your voice is all kinds of scuffed up and cracky, you can enact it. But the show takes horrendous wear and tear on the body. It really does. You end up playing mind games with the role.

PC: That’s interesting. How so?

PK: Well, it’s such a powerfully written piece for the actual Phantom. You have to portray a person who’s schizoid, psychotic... and it all sounds very grand and technical. But the actual emotion of it can cut only come from the inside. And so you continue fighting with it.

[Note from Christine posting this in 2021 - Erik isn’t actually schizoid or psychotic (not that either are “bad” things). I know this is pedantic of me to point out, but I pointed it out at the end of Ethan Freeman’s interview from the mid 90s so I’ll point it out here too.]

PC: I imagine you found a core within the character of identification, something you had an understanding of and could feel a great deal of sympathy toward.

PK: Yes. You have to put yourself through the gambit of it. You have to be the Phantom emotionally for that time, and then it comes out quite naturally. You don’t have to think about it.

PC: Do you find, after all the times you played the role – first in London and now in Toronto – that the emotions are still immediate for you?

PK: Oh, yeah. But as I say, there’s wear and tear. When the mind gets tired then you find you get into problems.

PC: How do you keep the role fresh?

PK: There are all types of hand holds all the way along, from the time you start ‘til the time you finish. I guess the majority of it is set in the rehearsal room where you rehearse at a certain level into a certain standard, and it becomes automatic. But each show will always be different because you have a different audience, different weather conditions, you have different musicians playing in the pit, you have different people you’re playing opposite. So you will always get a variation on the theme. And so that, coupled up with what you’ve put together in rehearsal so you get a fairly high standard of performance every night, merges together. And so you do get a different show every night. But, as I say, it’s a very wearing role. More so than Jean Valjean, where you’re virtually on stage for three and a half hours. But I find the Phantom far more draining.

PC: I can imagine. Whenever you’re on stage you’re at peak intensity and you run the emotional gamut. So that, combined with the vocal demands, must make for one walloping experience.

PK: Exactly.... That, coupled with the exposure. You’re so exposed on stage. Whenever the Phantom does appear, it’s either him on his own, or it’s him with Christine, and something powerful and moving is happening. He doesn’t appear with the chorus – barring the “Masquerade.”

PC: For that reason, a number of the actors who have played the role have complained about a sense of loneliness and isolation. I wondered if you felt that way about it?

PK: No, I haven’t felt that. But I’ve always mingled with the rest of the cast and crew. I can’t abide all this keeping the door shut. So we open the door and play rock and roll music.

PC: Do you ever feel hampered by all the makeup involved?

PK: You get used to it. Totally. In fact, there are times when you forgotten you’ve got the mask on in the wig lady has to ask you for it. And you think ‘What? I’ve already given it to you!’

PC: That’s right – you wouldn’t be able to feel it, would you? Because it’s actually touching the appliances rather than your face.

PK: You feel it slightly. You know, if you first put it on you’d know it’s there. But after a while... But the wire band ‘round the head lets you know it’s there! And the edge of it catches you sometimes. But no – it becomes part of you. And as for the lip which is built up top and bottom ‘round your mouth, you get used to that as well.

PC: Has it ever come loose during a performance?

PK: Oh, God yeah! We’ve had some great moments where it’s been hanging off. That’s a bit gross. And the bald cap’s come loose in the back, so you do the Second Lair with one hand ‘rounds the back of your head holding your bald cap in place? [laughs] Yeah, you’ve got some good moments.

PC: How did you find the voice which is so distinctive?

PK: Well, that, once again came from the feeling inside. It was like once you had all that stuff on, and I discovered the walk, and kind of latched onto his intention, the voice just followed.

PC: Your interpretation of the line “You try my patience“ is unforgettable. So chilling. I was wondering how that evolved.

PK: Well, I felt that was the climax of the man. That, literally, for me, is where he turns ‘round and he’s at the actual peak of his hate, his frustration. I knew I had to find something which made that moment special. It was set to be special by the music and the way it was directed. That was the key to the man.

PC: It’s as if your voice came from some deep well – as if it bubbled up from some deep, dark place.

PK: That’s right! That’s exactly how I felt it. And then when Christine kisses him it’s like he can’t believe it. “I’ve won!” That euphoric feeling... “She can suffer this face! I think I’ve got her! I think, yes, she does love me!” And then, as he reaches out to touch her... a moment.... He’s taken in the scene of Raoul hanging as he went back to her... and then, all of a sudden, it struck a chord.... “Hang on....” And then the realization hits him: “She’s just doing it for him. She’s literally giving me her self to save him. She loves him... She can never love me the same as she loves him.” And it’s all a kind of mental game there. And you’ve only got split seconds to get the audience in on it, so he has to be kind of demonstrative in his actions.

PC: After the kiss, there was a moment where you sort of winced, pulling away from her twice like a wounded animal, your right arm almost becoming spastic... there were so many levels, all going simultaneously.

PK: He’s coming to terms. All these thoughts are rushing through his head and he’s off balance. Everything has shaken him and he’s lost his façade of “everything-under-control.”

PC: And the body is breaking down.

PK: That’s right. He’s been stripped of everything just by having to face himself – and face the truth. That one clear moment where he realizes this is wrong – this is all wrong – this is not how it should be.

PC: And when the phantom cries “GO NOW AND LEAVE ME!” – you built each word into a series of escalating crescendos which was tremendously effective, I thought. Very powerful.

PK: It’s all the process of him actually coming to terms with himself. It’s as you say – one after another, one after the other – then finally she’s gone and he’s left.... This is after she’s given him the ring and she’s gone... And he looks... and he sees the empty throne. And he knows that’s all his life is.

PC: That’s very moving. Do you ever find that the final words – “It’s over now the Music of the Night” – are difficult to get out with all the emotion you’re experiencing?

PK: I did at the beginning, yeah. Sometimes I used to get caught up in it, which is a dreadfully dangerous thing, ‘cause then everything tightens up and you get the proverbial lump in your throat.

PC: It’s sort of walking a bit of a tight rope, isn’t it?

PK: Yeah! [laughs] That’s right. And then there’s a moment where I can get space to subdue all that and concentrate on doing the last bit. That’s where he’s got the veil in his hand and she’s in the boat comin’ across the back singing with Raoul and I say “Christine I love you” very, very quietly, and very broken, and then I can take some breaths which calm it all down and get myself kind of poised for the last bit. ‘Cause that’s gotta be kind of the statement: “You alone can make my song take flight.” That is the statement of release. It’s like a rhetorical statement – you will always be the music of my life. And therefore I can’t change it.” It’s that feeling he’s got in his body. He bends over backwards. And then the final moment is where he turns around and wipes it clean. And he does it in a far stronger attitude than anything else he does... “It’s over now the Music of the Night.”

PC: I’ve read that you feel he’s starting a new life at that point.

PK: Yes! Yes... When I’m walking to the chair, I let the veil just drop behind, and I think to myself “It’s over. Now what else is there? There must be something else... It’s over.” And you do it with such a final flourish – the cape and everything – you’re back in control of yourself. You’ve had the osmosis. You’ve come out of the one period of your life which actually threatened to ruin you, and you’re now standing on the threshold of another one.

PC: Oh yes. It’s wonderful to hear what’s going through your mind as you’re doing the scene. And the impact of that final scene is tremendous. Do you have a favourite scene in the show?

PK: That would be it. ‘Cause it’s only six minutes long, that Second Lair. And in that six minutes you literally travel from one end of the emotional spectrum to the other. It’s a whole journey.

MORE BELOW... Keep reading, it’s a long interview, with plenty more thoughts and content about Phantom, including some really funny classic mishaps.

PC: The show obviously touches a universal cord in many of its audience members, sometimes to the extent that a bracket (sizable) number of people see the show again and again. Men and women openly moved to tears by the play are common sight in Phantom’s audiences. And yet, paradoxically, a substantial number of critics have charged the show with having no heart.

PK: I think they’re being very unkind. There are some Phantoms – just as there are leading men and women in any show – who do not commit themselves quite as much as they should do.

PC: I’ve seen that it does make a difference in the overall impact of the show.

PK: It makes a big difference, yeah. ‘Cause eight times a week to commit yourself to it to it as it should be done is hard work. But once you get used to it and once you get into it you can’t do it any other way. At least I can’t. They said to me many times, like when you’re feeling rough or whatever, “Can you mark it a little bit? You know just take it easy. You don’t have to give one hundred percent.” But you see, it’s not a question of giving that. That’s just the way I do it. If I start altering that, I am altering a lot more than just singing a lift show. You’re altering a thought process which I can’t control. I wish I could mark it. It would be a lot bloody easier! But you can’t. You have to do it as you do it when you do it, and that’s it.

PC: I believe you hold the record for the most injuries sustained by any actor playing the role.

PK: Touch wood it’s never been completely death-defying! [laughs]

PC: Is it true that you asked if you could actually ride the chandelier down to the stage at the end of Act One?

PK: Yes. But I’m afraid the insurance people did not exactly share my enthusiasm for the idea.

PC: The stories about technical mishaps are legion. Can you relate some of the more memorable moments along those lines that you can recall?

PK: Well... there’s been so many of them now. There’re many, many boat stories. And the same thing happen to Colm, has happened to Michael, has happened to ‘em all. The boat has a life of its own. The monkey also has a life of its own. That can be very temperamental... I’ve had some excitement in the Angel, where people have tripped over wires and tipped it up while you’re inside it, and you’re hangin’ on for grim death... I fallen off the proscenium, yeah...

PC: [laughs] you say that so cavalierly.

PK: [laughing] Cracked a couple of legs and so forth. And the Star-Trap, the same thing. I’ve fallen down that the wrong way... In London one day, the Star-Trap didn’t open at all. So you did the “Your chains are still mine – you will sing for me,” and threw the cape – I always threw the Cape up to make a trail as you go down the Star-Trap. So the trail came down and I hadn’t gone anywhere. In the cloak – they had a bigger cloak for the Masquerade then – and it just piles on top of me. And I couldn’t get it off because you’ve got the mask on. So it ended up with the two managers having to lead me off! [laughing] I mean, here you’ve got this dreadful creature saying [puts on a creepy voice] “Your chains are still mine – you will sing for me!” And then, all of a sudden, the managers are saying [whispers] “Come on! This way, this way!”

PC: [laughs] In one of the U.S. Touring Company performances, the Punjab lasso failed to work, and so Raoul just fell to the floor and lay there writhing as if he were in the grip of some supernatural force.

PK: [laughs] many times things go wrong with a bloody lasso! One time I was over here in Toronto, Byron Nease [Raoul] all of a sudden acted like an invisible hand had gripped him ‘round the throat – the noose was nowhere, it was on the floor many miles away from him – but he’s going [Karrie makes some strangling sounds] and it was as though he was being thrown—forced backwards! And he got to the grill and his hands came outstretched and he was like held there by and invisible force...

PC: Yes – the “magnetic grill!“

PK: Yeah! And I just looked at him and I started laughing. it was like a three act play to get him to the back of this grill...! But I think the funniest thing is words. The things people say. Quite innovative and inventive. I remember when I was in the wings doing the “seal my fate tonight...” and sometimes your mind wanders. It’s that mind-game I mentioned about concentration. You have to keep focused all the time – blah blah blah. And so I’m saying “seal my fate tonight... I hate to have to cut the prisoner short...” Prisoner short? Prisoner short? And I thought, no, that can’t be right. And I’m thinking that while I continue singing... And the words have gone ‘cause I’m singing “but the ducks warring in...” And I said “ducks warring in??? – By now I’ve turned away from the monitor ‘cause I’m singing on an off-stage mike – and I’m lookin’ at my dressers. And I’m waving to them as if to say “Tell me the words! What are the words??” And now I’m singing “Let my destiny ride, ‘cause my music’s afire!” And I sang it as though I’d been singing those words all my life! Loud... And of course I’m falling around. And the conductor – I can see on the monitor – he’s laughing and waving! The baton had gone to hell!!

PC: [laughing] That’s marvelous!

PK: But what was the funniest thing what the poor people on stage! ‘Cause you had the managers and everybody else all walking ‘round in this trance – like, floaty, floaty choreography. And all of a sudden, as soon as I got to “ducks warring in” – by all accounts – they as if on cue, turned up stage; all of their backs to the audience! And they all walked to the back of the stage! And they’re all laughing and laughing, ‘cause it got it worse and worse. The more I was singin’ the wrong words the more they were laughing! ...And when I came on for my bows that night, all the course we’re going “Quack, quack!” ...So the next night I got changed I did my sound-check, and all of a sudden there’s a call over the tannoy for a meeting in the greenroom. And I went there, and I thought, well, somebody must be coming down to see us. And all of a sudden, over the gentle hubbub in the greenroom, I could hear on the tannoy my voice doing this “cut the prisoner short, but the ducks warring in...” and everybody started laughing. And then all of a sudden, the company manager showed up and presented me with a cassette – they record every show, you see – and the company had the words printed up and framed, and they presented it to me with the cassette. And that’s how I know the words so well!

PC: I’d love to hear that sometime!

PK: I learned from a very early age that if you’re gonna sing the wrong words, sing them as loud and convincingly as possible. And everyone in the building will think you’re right and everybody else is wrong.

PC: Of course. Because that if they haven’t seen the show before, they’re not going to know.

PK: That’s right. It’s so true, because I had people in that night for that magic moment, and they didn’t know anything was wrong at all.

PC: [laughs] Be honest with me – are you tired of the music after all this time? For example if you’re in an elevator and you hear a song from Phantom do you just want to scream?

PK: No. I get out of the elevator. You do try to escape from it after doing eight shows a week... A number of times we’ll go into a restaurant ,] my wife Jane and myself, and we’ll sit there. And all of a sudden you’ll hear the music come on – Phantom. And you think, oh God! You don’t want to be reminded of it when you’re out enjoying yourself. But I’m not tired of the music when I’m performing it.

PC: You’re about to take Phantom to Singapore and Hong Kong. I understand that their audiences tend to be rather formal. I believe it is considered disrespectful to make too big a display of appreciation. That will be quite a change for you. How do you think you’re going to handle it?

PK: I did a satellite link up the other day with about forty reporters from the Far East, and the same questions came up then – “How are you going to cope with the way Singaporean and Hong Kong audiences show their appreciation?” And I told him as long as they enjoy the show, I don’t care... It’s quite funny actually, because when I started off working in Britain, I used to do clubs in the Northeast which is the hardest area prefer performer to work in. [laughs] The miners – it’s a big mining area – and they didn’t used to applaud. They threw ashtrays onto the stage.

PC: [laughing] Ashtrays?!

PK: That’s right. You do a Sunday lunchtime and they’d all be sitting reading the Sunday newspapers. You walk onto the stage and there’d just be a sea of newspapers. And at the end of the number, if they liked you they drop one hand onto the table, pick up the ashtray and throw it onto the stage as a mark of respect. Or are they’d just bang the table with one hand two or three times. But still, never, never, did they come out from behind the newspaper. Not unless the performer was of the female variety.

PC: [laughs] Your rock band – Peter and the Wolves – how long did that last?

PK: About four years, I think.

PC: Are there any records available?

PK: I doubt it. What records were made have probably long since been turned into ashtrays!

PC: To be thrown on stage by miners, no doubt! ...Well ,a final question: in Phantom, when you’re up in the Angel, do you ever feel a mad desire to plunge headfirst into the audience?

PK: No. Quite the opposite.

PC: Not a serious question, but I appreciate the answer nonetheless.

PK: The desire to jump off is never further from my mind.

PC: Sometimes I wonder the way you move around up there!

PK: [laughs] It does get a bit hairy up there sometimes! But it depends on which way it swings. If it swings left to right, you’re okay, but if it swings front to back then ya’ got trouble!

PC: This has been a delightful interview, Peter. Thank you.

PK: My pleasure.

- Paul Clemens

#peter karrie #poto #phantom of the opera #the phantom of the opera #classic phantoms #phantom legends #musicals #musical theater fandom #musical theatre

67 notes · View notes

spnasylum · 3 years

Text

My notes while listening to Misha’s comments on the podcast: (grab a snack!)

In light of the most recent fandom drama I decided to listen to *that* podcast and take notes as I went along about what was actually said and then give my take on it as objectively as possible. This is basically an essay so strap in!

He complains about not getting a trailer on set that’s the same as Jared and Jensen’s. Even though he has one that can accommodate 3 people. This was the first point of discussion inspired by opening up the interview with a brief chat about Misha currently being in his camper van and how he’s sleeping in it even though he’s still home in Bellingham. The whole hour and 26 minutes has an undertone of complaining and ego stroking by all involved.

Says he’s sad he didn’t get to be there for the final days of filming.

Seems a little nervous about if friendships made during the shows run will last now it’s over.

Admits he has no plan in place or anything coming up career wise and he’s unsure of his future. This is where he brings up Walker and The Boys and says if he had shows like that to go to he wouldn’t feel SPN ending was so monumental. It is said with a slight tone of bitterness.

Side note: the hosts Alaina and Malik seem to be fine with running with the narrative that Misha was part of the show it’s entire 15 year run. Misha clears this up eventually by saying he joined in season 4.

Misha says that he realized about six years ago that SPN could run as “we” wanted it to, implying he has any say in keeping the show going or not. He asserts that he would have been on the show up until the very end in any case. But he didn’t feel that way the first few years he was on the show. So that makes me think something or someone involved gave him the feeling he could be confident in being in the cast for however long SPN aired. Maybe this was after Sera left? Maybe this was when he agreed to a significant pay cut and demotion? Either way it seems he felt SPN = job security.

Misha doubts he’ll have the feeling of job security again.

Says from around age 11 he wanted to be a politician.

Says he saw “successful, untalented” actors and decided “I can do that”. He realized that was naive and it’s actually not easy to be that successful and by the time he got his career going he was basically just in it for the fame it’s not anything he took seriously.

We find out his wife did a doctorate in gender history... for some reason.

That Marilyn Monroe was some sort of baseline for him about creating a public persona (🤷🏽‍♀️) except for getting cosmetic surgery he points out.

Talk about how he got started. Acting classes, improve groups. Moving between Chicago, DC and LA.

Discussion about the differences and similarities between Hollywood and Washington.

States he got a consultant to help him cultivate a fan base and image to connect with an audience after getting on SPN. Admits that was a double edged sword because an anonymous public start thinking that they really know you and things start getting weird.

Mentions trying to find a balancing act of being authentic and having a private life but still keeping your fans.

He admits that the fan base he grew for himself by seeming accessible has caused him to attract people who don’t have any boundaries. This is when he claims the “dialing it back” in regard to how much he shares and mentions his kids specifically as something he doesn’t feel comfortable with putting out there. Uses the word “unhinged” to describe them.

Malik mentions “crazy fans” who seem to know too much about you and finding out where you are etc. Using the example of fans turning up at an airport wanting autographs and you wondering how they even knew you’d be there and what flight you taking. He asks Misha to share experiences about his own crazy fans.

This is when Misha uses the example about having fans who think that when he tweets something out he’s communicating with them personally.

Alaina then says that in the Supernatural fandom people fight each other to protect Jared, Jensen and Misha and it’s “very bizarre”. She volunteered that people think Misha secretly hates Jared and that it’s not true. Not sure why she decided to direct the conversation to a place that would cause drama and give Misha a chance to play victim.

And then...

That’s when he claims that he was public enemy number one with super fans of the show because he’s taking attention away from Jared and Jensen.

That’s when he brings up the alleged organized attack to take down his Facebook account. He says they reported him for... *pauses... claims to not know what. But that whatever it was “Facebook bought it and took it down”. Facebook deleted/deactivated his account but he eventually got it back.

Side note: Facebook (like all social media) have always been bias when it comes to people with leftist views and let them have free reign on the platform. So he must have done something that they would decide to suspend him. I don’t think J2 fans can be blamed for the content he posts and if it violated any ToS. As we know he can post some inappropriate things on social media.

He then brings up the allegations of him taking money out of his organization. Stating it’s “categorically untrue” is all he brings forward as evidence to the contrary.

Side note: I don’t know why then that there’s no receipts or transparency. Why is his mother a beneficiary, why do people who mention he owns Stands get blocked, why set everything up in Delaware and have your for profit and so called non profit interests so entangled etc etc) I guess fans are just supposed to have faith and take his word for it.

He says that ALL of them (Jared, Jensen and himself) have people who hate them in the fandom. But overall the fandom is lovely and supportive of the cast and each other. Makes an attempt at stating there’s no kind of competition or animosity between he and Jared. I think this is like the 3rd or 4th time in the interview either he or Alaina bring up Jared but keep the focus on how Misha is the one facing “character assassination.”

Finally says that all of them have nasty things done to them and they all have had to consult security because of threats to their families etc, doesn’t specify which faction of the fandom that’s coming from. Mentions people filing police reports in the fandom but doesn’t say regarding who or what. Alaina reacts like it’s the first time hearing of this happening. Misha just goes “yeah!” Then they move on to talking about living situations.

Apparently Alaina and Misha were neighbors in LA but didn’t take advantage of that. She doesn’t live in LA anyone, wants a new adventure.

Misha mentions Bellingham is another thing about his future he’s unsure about and how his kids flourished there.

Brings up not being present with his kids even when he’s home because of work and side projects and that the one thing he’s enjoying right now it spending time with them. That he used to operate from a place of guilt because his kids felt like they only have one parent. He and Malik briefly spoke on how their careers have negatively affected their love lives.

Misha says he’s not really involved with Random Acts or running it anymore. (Ummm... what)

He and Alaina discuss Haiti and Nicaragua for a while.

Says he may try to get into directing. Says he likes having creative control. Mentions he likes doing his art installations.

Admits that getting a bit of success made him very entitled and wanting of special treatment. But claims he’s trying to keep that in check (where?) and he’s just like everyone else (well duh!). But he “trades on his celebrity” to get stuff and it makes him feel dirty (I think everyone with any kind of following does that though so nbd)

Talk of how TV/film is more diverse in telling minority stories these days.

Was asked by Malik if he has any kind of chip on his shoulder career wise and Misha says the chip on his shoulder is being bored. But says he needs to work on being more engaged.

He then abruptly wants to end the interview. Saying he has to pick up his kids. Malik wants another question. He asks how Misha has been hurt or healed by his career.

Misha then brings up the movie Karla. Again admitting to becoming more like Paul psychologically irl. But says knowing he has that type of evil in him somewhere (and says that we all have that in us) made him more empathetic to the human condition.

They then say their goodbyes. End of interview.

——

My takeaway. The worst thing he can think to say the people who don’t like him in the fandom did was trolling to get his Facebook deactivated? Also that people can see the suspicious nature of his businesses? It would be really easy to settle that with actually being transparent about the finances, which they aren’t and not having close family as benefactors though. Also, I can only speak for myself. But I never hated him. I actually loved Castiel (before his character was there just to be there in recent seasons and Cass wasn’t Cass anymore. I think Misha’s need to pander to shippers/stay on the show was a great disservice to Castiel and his arc) I was a huge Misha fan, and participated in RA and Gish a lot. I absolutely adored Misha, I led myself to believe he was the most amazing person in the world, obviously that’s the reaction he wanted to cultivate from us. Unfortunately I learned too much, experienced first hand and heard too much to be able to keep cheerleading for him. I feel bad for the people still under the spell of feeling like it’s their job to keep being defensive and unreasonably loyal to someone who you can’t and don’t really know and only have a superficial “relationship” with. Seeing the ever more unhealthy and toxic lengths people feel they need to go to to prop up his ego etc. The constant investment emotionally and financially that goes into it and the “sunk cost” if you let reality in makes it hard to let go I guess. Even he knows that what he’s done to gain and maintain relevance has attracted what he called multiple times an unhinged fan base he has to try and balance without losing his influence. I think he maybe had or has good intentions but his fame hungry drive and narcissistic personality traits win out in the end. The Heller’s seem to have, as always, taken what was said and blown it out of proportion, twisted things and created their own narrative. I do see them using key words from the interview a lot suddenly though to bully for him. So, I guess the dog whistle to the sycophants worked out. I hope that a time comes where they can have a more healthy relationship with the media and public figures they choose to gravitate towards. We can all get over zealous with things but there’s lines that shouldn’t be crossed. For some that seems sadly unlikely. I hope that Misha does indeed one day get himself in check as he calls it and I can feel comfortable to support him again. But so long as he’s being enabled and not held accountable again that seems sadly unlikely. Even though I do occasionally find myself being drawn in by the facade again a little and quickly retreating because the issues remain the same. There is a problematic dynamic in the Supernatural fandom for sure. That’s why for a long time I opted out and just watched the show separately from fandom. It’s why when I found out it was ending I had this odd sense of relief I wasn’t expecting to feel and it made me sad. I hope that now the show has aired its finale we can all reflect on things, hopefully be more self aware and objective and most importantly honest about what really has gone down and why. When things started turning sour there have been plenty of times it could have been nipped in the bud yet wasn’t. People who used this silly yet special show in selfish ways, times when walking away would have been better than sticking around trying to make things and people into something never intended to be, giving into tribalism while claiming we’re a family... for that I think we all hold a little piece of responsibility.

You can listen to it yourself on Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/episode/0m07her5JUf0JGGtDVohtJ?si=c-RdyZzFQmSzffgNzZhkQg

#anti misha #anti misha collins #misha collins #supernatural #fandom #anti destihellers #strap in its a long one again #opinion #trying to be objective #alaina huffman #malik yoba #anti minions #misha #collins

135 notes · View notes

lemonpeter · 3 years

Text

Secrets Kept pt 2

Part 1 here

Sorry for the wait everyone but here it finally is 💕 I hope everyone enjoys (and doesn’t hate me too much :)) 💕

Warnings: manipulation, abuse, noncon elements, blackmail, angst

————

A bitter taste flooded Tony’s mouth as he saw the headline.

‘Stark’s Ex Moved On.’ The heartless caption was paired with a picture. A picture of his Peter with some blond asshole with his arm around Peter’s waist. Definitely cozy. Couldn’t have been the first time they’d done this.

Tony couldn’t help but wonder if it was the same guy that Peter cheated with.

The thought was painful and unwanted, but it stuck in his mind like it was pinned there. It circulated through, latching onto his insecurities and hurt as it went.

He shook his head like that would help it leave. It didn’t.

He sighed softly, looking over the picture one more time like the masochist that he was. Yep. It was still there. Peter was definitely cuddled up to that guy.

Well, good for him.

———

“Come on, I’d rather just stay here,” Peter argued, gently cleaning himself up so that he didn’t have to look at Skip as he talked. “I’m perfectly okay here with May.”

The blond sighed, shaking his head. “Maybe you think you’d rather stay here, but we always have to be so careful here. I’d be able to be gentler and slower and all that if we didn’t always have to rush like we do here.” He quickly got dressed, leaving silence for Peter to think about his proposal.

It wasn’t really true and he knew it, but he didn’t feel like taking Peter kicking and screaming. He could at least try to convince the man to come willingly.

Peter paused, thinking through it as he gently pulled his clothes back on once he was clean. Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. Sure, he didn’t really want to live with his abuser. But maybe he’d end up with less bruising and overall pain if they didn’t have to be so quick when they got together.

He couldn’t believe that he was actually considering it.

Skip sensed the younger man’s indecision and grinned to himself. “I know, Einstein. Doesn’t that sound better? Going slower, not having to rush things?” He slid his hands over the man’s arms, ignoring the way he shuddered. “Plus we could really be together. Have the whole boyfriend experience.”

It felt like ice water had been dumped through Peter’s veins. “You are not my boyfriend. We’re not together.” He was only Tony’s. He was supposed to be Tony’s forever. He didn’t want anyone else. But especially not Skip.

“Right.” He huffed softly. He gripped Peter’s arms gently, but enough to get the point across. “But I say we are. The tabloids say we are.” Possessive kisses trailed down the younger man’s neck. “And we’ve already determined that you go along with what I say.”

It wasn’t true. At least...Peter didn’t want for it to be true. He didn’t want to go along with anything Skip wanted.

A hard bite to his neck caused him to whimper when he didn’t answer. Skip didn’t like when he didn’t answer. “I know,” he whispered. He hoped that was answer enough.

When he didn’t feel teeth sinking into his flesh again he figured his answer was acceptable.

But then he felt greedy hands pushing up his shirt and feeling over every individual muscle they could find. He’d thought their last round would be the last for the day. But apparently Skip had other plans and was already ready to go again.

Nausea clawed at Peter’s throat but he did nothing to stop the other man, standing still and not helping or stopping in any way. He just wanted it over with. At least it never lasted long.

But suddenly the hands stopped and all weight pulled away from his body.

“I’ll help you start packing,” Skip told him. It was clear that there was no room for argument. Peter was moving again and that was that. He got no say.

“I don’t have any boxes,” he said weakly.

“Then we’ll only take what you need. A bag of clothes, toothbrush, phone charger. Whatever.” The older man waved a hand, effectively brushing him off.

Peter’s stomach clenched. He didn’t want to go with Skip. Everything else was bad enough. But at least he had his own bed to sleep in at night. And he had things around that reminded him of Tony.

He wouldn’t get either of those things anymore.

As he carried his too-small bag of things out to Skip’s car, tears streamed down his face and he had to stop halfway to try and breathe through his choked sobs. He didn’t want to go. Terror shredded his heart as he thought about how much worse things could be if Skip had constant access to him.

The older man gripped his arm when he stopped, yanking him close. “You’re causing a scene,” he hissed. “If anyone saw you, they’d call the cops. And you know what’ll happen if that goes down.”

Peter didn’t want to care. He wanted to just say fuck it and let Tony see the pictures. Hell, let the whole world see the pictures. He didn’t want to care.

But he didn’t want anyone to know how he’d been used. How much he’d been through. How disgusting and dirty he was. Tony wouldn’t want him if he knew. No one would want him if they found out.

So he couldn’t fight.

He put his bag in the car and then went back to May’s to leave a note.

He wanted to beg for help. To tell her where he’d be and to call the police.

But Skip was over his shoulder, watching every word he wrote. So he couldn’t do anything.

He left a simple note. Nothing that would cause his aunt to worry. He’d caused her enough stress during his life and he didn’t want to add any to it.

‘Hey, May. Going to live with Skip for a while. I’ll be sure to visit. I love you.’

His hands shook as he set the note down, vision blurring as his eyes filled with tears again.

————

The last person that May expected to have knocking at her door was Tony Stark.

Well, maybe not the last person. But he was up there.

Her jaw set as soon as she saw him, instantly moving to close the door again. “You’re not welcome here, Stark.”

“I know you don’t like me. I know. And I know I fucked up. But I have to see him, Mrs. Parker. Please.”

The desperation in his voice was something she’d never heard from the man. This was far from the confident, cocky person she usually saw. This man sounded every bit of heartbroken that Peter did.

Although Peter seemed to have moved on a lot quicker.

She sighed as she opened the door, arms crossed. “He isn’t here. So unless you have another reason you’re here, you should be on your way.”

Tony had never been someone she completely approved of. She didn’t believe that he’d changed all that much from being a playboy. But he’d made Peter happy so she tried to push down any bias.

Once he’d broken her nephew’s heart, however, she was okay with being harsher towards him. But the man she was seeing wasn’t the man she disapproved of. So she didn’t know exactly how to react.

Tony’s face fell as she told him that Peter wasn’t there. He’d expected a reunion, a conversation, maybe even Peter coming home.“When will he be back? I can wait.”

“He doesn’t live here anymore.” She sniffed, obviously disapproving of the situation. “Moved in with his new boyfriend a few days ago. No warning, nothing. Just gone.”

“He doesn’t...he doesn’t live here?” It had taken Peter months to be convinced to move in with Tony. Just how long had he known this other guy that he was willing to go so quick?

May shook her head. “That’s what I said. He’s gone. Hasn’t even visited yet. Called yesterday but not for long.” She shook her head. “Don’t know what’s gotten into him. I thought he’d finished with the rebellion shit when he finally told me about Spider-Man. But no, had to get with you, had to find this new-“ she cut herself off, sighing.

“You don’t like the new guy?” Tony asked. “Is he the one in the pictures?”

“The pictures...Stark, don’t tell me you’ve been looking at tabloids. You have to be above that. You’ve been in the spotlight how long?”

Tony didn’t look at her. “I haven’t talked to him, I couldn’t help it. It’s all I’ve seen of him in...too long. But you didn’t answer the first question.”

May snorted. “You should just come in and sit down. You look weird just standing in the hallway.”

She ushered him in, sitting on the couch and tucking her legs up beside her as she sat.

Tony sat across from her, fingers feeling at the worn fabric of the couch.

Sitting in May Parker’s apartment felt like home in a way that he couldn’t describe. Because it wasn’t like he’d ever lived anywhere like it.

Maybe it was just because it was where Peter came from. And wherever Peter was was home.

The man had broken his heart. Cheated on Tony for god knows how long and admitted to it. But he was still everything to the man. And he couldn’t help but feel like there was still something he didn’t know. Because Peter wouldn’t just do that.

May started speaking again, pulling Tony from his spiraling thoughts. “To answer your question, no. I don’t like him. He just...god, don’t tell Peter I said this, but honestly he creeps me out.”

“Really? How?” Tony asked curiously, looking at her.

“I don’t know. I can’t explain it. He’s just weird, constantly watching Peter. It feels like everything he does or says is fake, but he’s a really bad actor. Maybe he just has a weird personality, but I don’t know. He just gives me the creeps.” May shrugged. “But Peter likes him so there’s not much I can do.”

“I guess so,” the man mumbled.

“I didn’t think it would hit you this hard,” May told him. “Since you were the one that kicked him out and all.”

Tony winced. “Of course it hit me hard. Do you even know what happened?” He didn’t mean to snap, but he didn’t like her acting like he was the one that had done wrong. He regretted making Peter leave but obviously it didn’t hurt the other man too much.

The woman stared at him. “Don’t you snap at me. And no, I don’t. All I know is that my nephew came home crying so hard he couldn’t breathe and told me that you had kicked him out and said it was over. I didn’t ask for more because he didn’t give me more. I have the information that matters.”

“No, you don’t.”

Is this really what Tony wanted to do? Ruin Peter’s image to his last living family?

He hated how she was treating him. He hated how she thought that he was the one that had broken Peter’s heart. When Peter was the one who’d fucked everything up.

But he couldn’t do something like that. He couldn’t taint the way that she looked at him. Every time he saw them together she looked at him with such pride. He couldn’t ruin that, even with the truth.

“Then what is so important that you have to yell at me for?” She crossed her arms.

Tony sighed, posture wilting. “Nothing. Just- yeah. Nothing. It doesn’t matter. Maybe you can ask him when you next talk to him. But I’m not- no. I’m not getting involved. That can be between you and him.”

May watched him closely. She wanted to be angry at how he snapped at her. But he looked so broken that she just couldn’t. Instead she held her arms out. “Don’t make this weird. But you really look like you need a hug. So just...come here.”

He almost didn’t. It would have been so odd, hugging his ex boyfriend’s aunt who was easily five years younger than he was.

But it had been too long since someone had looked at him like that. And it had been too long since someone maternal had offered such a thing to him.

So he moved to the couch she was on, letting himself be wrapped in her arms.

She held onto him gently, rubbing his back.

It shocked her when she felt a tear fall onto her shoulder. But she just held him closer. He clearly needed it.

He shook with sobs before long, unable to stop it. The last month without Peter had been so hard and it all hit him at once.

May didn’t comment, just keeping her arms around him and doing her absolute best to soothe the man.

Maybe she didn’t like him all that much. But clearly something in him had changed.

She wasn’t sure she wanted to know what Peter had done to have that effect on him.

————

Peter curled in on himself, trying to make himself as small as possible. Maybe if he got small enough he would disappear.

Fingers pinched the already-bruising skin on his hip and he straightened out again, face contorting in pain. But he couldn’t make a sound or it would only be worse.

Skip pressed his bare body against Peter’s back, holding onto him.

Anyone else would have called it cuddling but Peter didn’t want to consider it that. Cuddling was gentle and nice and enjoyable. Skip had defiled him and then wanted to act like he’d done something to deserve affection.

It wasn’t cuddling. It was silent time after sex where Peter fantasized about escaping as he tried to ignore the body behind him.

Maybe one day it wouldn’t be only a fantasy.

Because even with the awful situation, as dirty and worthless as he felt, he dared to have the barest hope that he could get out.

And maybe...just maybe Tony would take him back eventually. But that wasn’t even something he dared to dream for yet.

————

The final part, part 3, is coming soon 💕

Tags: @lokitonypeter @nayamasters @puppypeter @softstarkerstuff @notfor-temporaryuse @bittersweetbeneath @nogenderpotato @venomondenim @haysend @awimespo @prettyunki @ikneelbeforemygod @noellemaldonado @jordanparker @preciouspeterbparker @virideer

90 notes · View notes

simptasia · 3 years

Note

Could you please insult Jack?

insult jack? jack shephard? well, gosh, i guess i could try but im sorry if i don't have much to say... [smiles deviously]

why are you so big large you're freaking me out [squishes him into a tiny box and hands it to kate] for safe keeping

the way he expresses himself is like he's a sim testing out animations. he looks like feels every emotion before saying anything. he genuinely comes across like his actor is on coke

fuck your buzz cut and fuck your chest hair, i believe in long(er) hair + shaved chest jack supremacy

perfectly fine with using a spoon that kate sucked on right in front of him. you sick fuck, you liked that didn't ya?

the scene with richard and the dynamite is genuinely terrifying. you're scaring richard! stop that!

that bit where he blows up a bunch of trees to make a point that they have the ability to blow stuff up now but like. bitch you just wasted a bunch of the explosives. limited supplies, fuckhead

jack's main tattoos are a bunch of stupid looking nonsense and i'd forgive that if there wasn't a fucking EPISODE DEDICATED TO THEM. charlotte didn't get a centric episode but jACK'S TATTOOS-!!! [starts foaming at the mouth]

the poor reception of that episode was so bad that it's the reason the abc were like "okay you're only getting 6 seasons". like thats a good thing and a bad thing, it's a mixed bag but thats not my point. my point is a jack episode was SO BAD that the abc was like "okay fuck this, we're cutting you off, here's your deadline" BRUTAL

season 5 jack and large chunks of season 4 jack can go straight in the fucking bin. that there be the Cunt Jack Zone, my friends

sometimes jack looks directly at the camera and i feel pain

his voice is very high and whiny which makes the parts where he's insufferable even worse

none of us can look at angel hair pasta the same way

he has the aura of a grown adult who enjoys a glass of plain milk

your beard is bad and you should feel bad

"if i was checking you out, you'd know it" he says leaning confidently against a tree. what the fuck does that even MEAN. how is that a flex!!! also you were??? you were dopey zoned out staring at kate's ass (fair) and she clearly liked that, why are you disputing it?? im not saying they should started fucking against that tree, but holy fuck jack doesn't get flirting

basically jack has the social skills of a turnip. there are just. too many examples to list. everything. all of it. six seasons

Jack Shephard Bullies A Depressed Disabled Man For Six Seasons Cringe Complication

yeah dan tried to set off a hydro bomb to bring back his love interest, i've made fun of that, but at least thats like noble. jack's reason is so fucking immature: set off hydroden bomb because my girlfriend broke up with me and it hurts too much so i'd rather erase our entire relationship than feel heart hurty. like dan is being grossly irresponsible to save somebody's life, jack is being grossly irresponsible because WAAAAAHHHHHH

theres CPR and then theres beating people back to life

holds a pathological fury against the mere concept of belief, as if doctors don't see miraculous things on a regular basis

i'm sorry but his ears are weirdly small for his head

he's not cool and at no point will he ever be cool

yelled in hurley's face, scaring him. and some crimes can never be forgiven [cocks shotgun]

look, theres nothing in canon that suggests this but nothing that disputes it either: i just don't think he's good at Fuck

record for shortest term as Island Protector at less than a day! [presents him with a tiny trophy made out of tin foil]

honestly do i really even need to insult jack when there's a scene where he's sobbing into his steering wheel while led zeppelin plays. just picture that. i can't make him more pathetic than that moment

i could continue. and i will in small chunks, as i always have. but this feels,, [short of breath] this feels like enough

24 notes · View notes

flowercrown-bard · 3 years

Text

I Scream a Truth, You Hear a Lie - part 4/ 5

for @ban-aard <3

read on AO3

previous / next

It was almost too easy. After the initial shock of seeing them together no one batted an eye, at least not as openly as they had done before. If this was all it took, holding Jaskier’s hand, letting him drag him around and look at him like he wanted to, then maybe this wouldn’t be too bad. Maybe Geralt would be able to get through this.

Of course, it could never be that simple.

“I didn’t think you’d actually have the guts to show up.”

Geralt felt Jaskier’s hand tighten in his. He turned to the side and saw the man who had given him the contract - the one whose fault it was they were in this situation now – look at them with unhidden disdain.

Jaskier had a pleasant smile plastered on his face but Geralt could see the burning anger bubbling underneath.

“Of course we came,” he said, his tone just clipped enough to border on impolite. “Wouldn’t miss the chance at a romantic outing for the world.”

Erik scoffed. “Romantic? Him?”

He didn’t even bother looking at Geralt, just nodding his chin in his general direction.

Jaskier stiffened. “Yes, him. Do you have a problem with that?”

“Oh no, not at all.” He gave a pause as if thinking about his words. It fooled no one. “Except of course that he is disturbing our festival. This is no place for an unfee-“

“Careful.” Jaskier’s voice was dangerously low. “You are talking about the man I love.”

Geralt felt like he had been punched and he sucked in a sharp breath.

Oh, it was sweet to hear Jaskier say those words. It was unspeakably cruel.

Everything in him screamed to turn to Jaskier, to see the look in his face, to search him for even a hint that he could have meant it.

He didn’t. That hint wouldn’t be there and as long as Geralt didn’t find the blankness of false love plastered on Jaskier’s face, he could let himself hope; he could let himself pretend. He could imagine that were this situation any different, he could dare pull Jaskier close and whisper the same words into his ear.

But as it was, all he could do was stand stiffly next to the man who pretended to love him and pray his reaction wasn’t enough to make Jaskier suspicious.

Erik’s scorn turned into pity. “Clearly you do. I just would have thought that after how long you’ve been with him you would know better than to give your heart to someone who wouldn’t be able to return those feelings.”

An ashen taste filled Geralt’s mouth. “As if anyone could be loved by Jaskier and not love him in return.” The words were out before he could think about them. They hung in the air heavily.

Erik’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh? When did you realise then that you could love?” There was an unmistakable challenge in his words. A dare to admit that there had been no such moment. The certainty that Geralt wouldn’t be able to come up with a moment that made him fall in love.

Geralt felt more than he saw Jaskier open his mouth to protest, but no words left him. Geralt felt his stomach drop. Even Jaskier couldn’t imagine what it would be like if Geralt loved him. Or maybe he didn’t want to imagine.

“I knew I was in love with him when he asked me to stop take a break from the Path, only for a day.” Geralt hadn’t meant to speak, but the words kept tumbling out of his mouth without his permission but with an unknown desperation. He wasn’t saying it because some rude man he didn’t care about provoked him. He didn’t say it for their stupid pretence. He said it for Jaskier, because this was the closest he could come to a confession. “I didn’t want to, but Jaskier insisted. He took me to a place he knew, a small lake just far enough from any towns that we wouldn’t be bothered by anyone.” He could feel Jaskier’s eyes burning into him, mesmerized. “It was the first time that I found I didn’t mind when he braided flowers into my hair. And it was the first time I looked at him, lying in the sun with closed eyes, a smile and a hum on his lips that I thought this was the man I wanted to spend my life with.”

For a moment, it was quiet. Geralt didn’t dare speak and he couldn’t decide who looked more gobsmacked, Erik or Jaskier.

It was Jaskier who finally broke the silence.

“I didn’t think you’d even remember that.” His voice was so quiet. So awed, as if Geralt’s remembrance was an unexpected and precious gift. It almost had Geralt convinced. Jaskier was too good an actor for Geralt’s heart to not wish to believe him.

The man nodded, his forehead still wrinkled with doubt but there was something in his eyes, a hint of hesitation. “Doesn’t sound like a grand moment. Nothing special.”

“It was to me,” Geralt growled. And it was the truth. With one small exception. When Jaskier had brought him to that clearing, that small getaway from the harshness of the world, Geralt had already known he was irrevocably in love with him. Geralt could have picked any moment, small or grand, spent with Jaskier and it would have been treasured by him. But that one moment, the one where he truly had realised he had fallen, he wouldn’t share. It was too precious. It was his and his alone. And Jaskier’s, even though he didn’t know it.

“I take it back,” Erik said and lowered his head in a hint of a respectful bow though it still wasn’t as deep as he would have gone for anyone who wasn’t a witcher. Still it was the best outcome they could have hoped for. “You do know how to be romantic after all.”

“Being with a bard will do that to you,” Geralt said and his heart skipped a beat when Jaskier chuckled and swatted his arm playfully.

Jaskier’s mind was reeling. He didn’t listen to what else the man was saying, he was too preoccupied with telling his heart not to read too much into Geralt’s words, not to try and find truth in them and the softness of his eyes.

Geralt didn’t look at him in the sunlight. Geralt didn’t let him braid flowers into his hair without complaining. Geralt didn’t want to spend the rest of his life with him.

Especially not after this day. Once the festival was over, it would be a miracle if Geralt didn’t realise that Jaskier didn’t want to let go off what they had pretended to be. This day would finally be the tipping point. Geralt would see that Jaskier was too much, felt too much and he would leave him with only the memory of what he could never have.

Jaskier was so lost in his thoughts that he barely noticed when the crowd around them shifted their attention to the stage in the middle of the market place, excited voices rising in anticipation.

“Jaskier.” Geralt’s concerned voice brought him back to the here and now. To the few hours he still had left before it would all crumble around him. “Are you alright? Is it too much?”

Yes, it was. Too much to still pretend he didn’t want this with all of his heart.

“I’m fine,” he said instead, beaming at Geralt though his smile didn’t look convincing judging from the way Geralt’s eyes darted between his own, searching for the truth.

“Are you sure? I meant what I said earlier about calling it quits whenever you want. We don’t have to stay here. I think we already proved –“

“Just a little longer?” Jaskier cut in, quiet enough that only Geralt would hear. His voice was too desperate, too open with what he wanted. “It would seem suspicious if we left now, wouldn’t it?”

Geralt looked at him doubtfully, but he didn’t protest.

An older woman climbed up on stage, her smile wide and her arms stretched out dramatically.

“It is time once more,” she declared once she had all the attention on her, “to honour the legend of Marijan.”

Jaskier leaned closer to the stage, soaking up every word as the woman told the story of how centuries ago, the beautiful lady Marijan - told by a jealous suitor that her love to her chosen partner must be false - was cursed to never see nor hear her lover again. And yet, her love was as true as could be and she needed neither sight nor hear her lover’s voice to find them again.

“And so,” the woman concluded her tale and gestured widely at the crowd. “I ask those of you who think their love to be true to come up here and try to do as Marijan did. The rules are as always: the lover will have their eyes covered and the beloved must remain silent until they are found amidst all the other contestants.”

Jaskier’s hand shot out to grab Geralt’s arm.

“Jaskier…” Geralt gave the obligatory sigh, but even before Jaskier caught his eyes he knew Geralt would not put up any real resistance.

“This is perfect!” Jaskier couldn’t contain the excitement in his voice. “Just think about it. With your witcher senses and all, you’re going to recognise me within seconds and –“

“Immediately.”

“What?”

Geralt shuffled uncomfortably, looking to all the world as if he already regretted having let that one word slip. “I would recognise you immediately. Not within seconds.”

“Oh.” Jaskier’s heart gave a jump. He let out a nervous laugh. “My greatest apologies. I didn’t mean to underestimate your delicate senses.”

Geralt gave another sigh, but his time it looked slightly more relieved, which was definitely helped by the way he turned away to hide the little smile tugging at his lips.

“But if anything, this makes it even better. Imagine their faces when you recognise me immediately.”

The smile became a full blown grin.

Geralt didn’t even put up token resistance when Jaskier weaved his way through the crowd. Geralt followed him as steadily as if he had never done anything else in his life.

Once they were on the stage with a dozen other pairs, Geralt looked around their competition with a raised brow, before leaning in close to Jaskier.

“They are trying to cheat,” Geralt muttered in Jaskier’s ear, sending a shiver down his spine. “See that girl over there? She’s wearing tons of perfume that her lover will recognise. And that guy? His wristbands will make clinking sounds when he moves.”

Jaskier couldn’t contain his giggles anymore. “Truly, we are the only ones playing completely fair without any advantages.”

Geralt snorted with a twinkle in his eyes, a look that he rarely ever showed in the confides of their room or a secluded forest, but never in front of anyone else. It sent Jaskier’s heart racing having Geralt look at him like that, as if Jaskier’s name was engraved into his heart, as if he wasn’t ashamed to let others know he felt this way.

Jaskier turned away, unable to bear those soft eyes on him for any longer.

His wish to not see Geralt’s expression anymore was soon granted, though in a different way than he had anticipated.

The woman from before handed Jaskier the blindfold. When Jaskier stared at it with a sense of budding dread, she lifted her brow.

“Make sure you really don’t see anything. We can’t have any cheating.”

Jaskier risked a look around. The woman with the perfume and the man with the wristbands were too binding the blindfolds over their own eyes with sour expressions.

With a sigh, Jaskier lifted his blindfold. He hissed when he tried to tie the knot at the back of his head and caught some of his hair in it. In his struggles, he almost pushed the flower crown off his head. It was only stopped by a steady hand catching and righting it for him.

“Let me help,” Geralt said and his rough voice sent goose bumps down Jaskier’s arms.

Achingly gently, Geralt took the blindfold out of his hands and secured the knot.

“Is this alright?” he asked. “Not too tight?”

“No.” Jaskier cleared his throat when his voice broke on the one word. “It’s perfect.”

He was almost tempted to take it back when he felt Geralt’s hands fall away from his hair.

After a brief pause of only the struggling sounds of the other contestants being heard, Geralt spoke up again, only loud enough for Jaskier to hear.

“Don’t worry. If you can’t recognise me.” His breath ghosted over the shell of Jaskier’s ear. “It’s not – I wouldn’t hold it against you.”

Jaskier huffed indignantly. “Oh, I’m not worried,” he lied. What if he truly couldn’t find Geralt? It was a stupid thing to worry about. The answer was a clear ‘nothing’. Nothing would happen if he didn’t find him. This was just some tradition. Some game to make the festival more fun. And yet… “If I manage to find you every spring after months of not seeing you, I won’t have any trouble doing so on a small stage.”

“Finding me?”

“Why yes. That is literally the whole point of this.”

“No, I mean…” Geralt stopped as if he was fighting with himself whether he wanted to continue. As if he was scared to continue. Which was a ridiculous notion, of course. In a tone much quieter and far more tentative, he added, “You ‘found me’ after the winter? You were looking for me?”

Jaskier froze. A sudden gratefulness for the fact that he couldn’t see Geralt’s face right now flooded him.

“Well, yes. Of course I did,” he gave a short laugh that sounded far too strained even in his own ears. “What did you think? That it was a coincidence bringing us together? Destiny? I always thought you didn’t believe in all that.”

“I – no. I always thought that I was the one who – nevermind. The game’s about to start.” The relief in his last words was palpable even without seeing him.

Jaskier didn’t know if he should be relieved as well or frustrated that he didn’t get to find out what Geralt was going to say.

The voice of the woman who had announced the game cut through the air. “All the lovers without blindfolds to me.”

Geralt left his side without a word, brushing against Jaskier on accident. The sudden absence of his presence next to his left Jaskier cold and feeling strangely lost.

A different, foreign hand guided him into position, probably in a line with the other blinded ones.

“Now,” the woman said. “One after the other, the beloveds will walk down the line of blinded lovers. They are not allowed to speak or make any sort of sound that could tip them off. The lovers can take as much time as they need. Wave them away when you are sure they are not your beloveds.”

Nerves spiked up in Jaskier when he heard the first beloved make their way over to the line of lovers. He heard clothes shuffling as the blindfolded ones reached out to touch, to feel, to try to find something familiar.

With every passing second that his blindfolded peers struggled to recognise the person in front of them, Jaskier’s heart beat faster.

What if he won’t recognise him? What if Geralt came before him and Jaskier dismissed him as if he wasn’t the one he wanted to keep forever?

Heavy steps announced someone coming to a halt before him. The steps were too loud. Even when Geralt purposefully tread louder so as not to spook Jaskier, he never sounded quite as ungainly.

Jaskier waved the person in front of him away without second thought.

Quiet steps. Not as quiet as he knew Geralt to be when Jaskier was already in bed waiting for him to return and Geralt didn’t want to wake him just in case he was already asleep.

He waved them away.

Jaskier started to sweat. How many people had he already told to leave? Too many, surely. Enough that there was a high chance that Geralt was among them.

The next person came before him.

It’s him.

The thought shot through his mind even before his head had caught up with the whiff of a familiar smell that came to him. Had Geralt been in his stead, he would have been able to name all the things Jaskier smelled like. Jaskier could find nothing but the smell of horse that always clung to Geralt and – Home. Safety. Geralt.

If Geralt had been in his stead, he would have heard and maybe even recognised Jaskier’s heartbeat. All Jaskier had was the way Geralt’s breath hitched when Jaskier smiled and reached out to him.

Even before his hand found Geralt’s cheek as surely as if his body had always known even unseeing how to find him, he knew what he would find. He brushed a strand of long soft hair away; his fingers ghosted over a scar, traced the line of lips that were slightly parted and tilted up just enough for Jaskier and no one else.

Jaskier could have said his name then. He could have said it even before and ended this even without ever needing to touch. He knew this was Geralt.

But Jaskier was a selfish man. A part of him knew it was wrong to take advantage of this situation.

A different part of him was begging for more, for it to never stop.

He had never had this before. All the touches Geralt allowed him were purely functional – as was this right now; it was all part of the performance – and never simply because Geralt enjoyed his touch. Jaskier had tried, of course, before he had known how much Geralt despised it when Jaskier reached out to caress or embrace or hold tight. Whenever he had risked it, Geralt had become tense. Without fail he stopped moving altogether and looked at Jaskier with a stoically blank expression as if he was expecting the touch to become painful. His breath always hitched as if he was bracing himself to shake it off. Just as he did now.

Jaskier drew his hand back, as if burned. Geralt didn’t want this and Jaskier had no right to take it without his permission.

But Jaskier also didn’t see. He couldn’t know – it had to be coincidence that when he let his hand drop, it brushed against Geralt’s. It was nothing but instinct that made him turn his hand to prolong the contact.

But it was all Geralt who enclosed Jaskier’s fingers with his own. It was all Geralt who gave his hand a squeeze so light as if he were afraid anything more would crush Jaskier’s fingers.

It was all Jaskier who lifted Geralt’s hand to his lips, slowly to show Geralt that he could pull away any time, to press a soft kiss against it and it was all Geralt who refused to let Jaskier break the contact again and brushed his thumb against the corner of Jaskier’s lips.

“Geralt.” The name left Jaskier in the same way a fighter dropped his sword when returning home – ready to let all armour fall away, ready to lay themselves bare and trust no weapons would be turned against him.

“Jaskier.”

Jaskier barely heard the woman from before announce that the truest lovers were found over the ringing of his own name on Geralt’s tongue, spoken as if it was something precious, as if Geralt was in awe with the name itself. Geralt had always been a man of few and simple words, but oh the weight of the words he used…

Though Jaskier thrived on applause, none of the roaring cheer of the crowd reached his ears as gentle hands reached behind him and loosened the knot on the blindfold.

When the cloth fell away, he didn’t look at the brilliant grins of the people congratulating them. He only squinted from the sudden light, as if he was looking directly into the sun when in truth he looked into Geralt’s eyes instead, knowing that just like the sun it would burn him if he sank in too deep, yet unable to look away just yet.

“Told you I’d find you.” Jaskier’s voice was little more than a breath. No one but a witcher would be able to hear him over the applause, but it was enough. There was only one person he needed to hear.

Geralt didn’t respond, but there was something in the way he kept looking at Jaskier, the way he made no move to release his hand that made Jaskier almost think that –

“Congratulations!” The woman’s voice cut through the moment like a dagger and Geralt jerked his hand away, broke the eye contact. “As customary, the truest of lovers will have the first dance of the night.”

There it was again, the way Geralt tensed and looked at Jaskier like he wanted to flee.

Still they could do nothing but oblige when they were ushered off the stage and onto the space that was quickly cleared for them.

Musicians stroke up a soft melody and Jaskier knew it was too late to escape this and spare Geralt the ordeal of having to dance with Jaskier while all eyes were on them.

#fake dating #geraskier #geralt #geraltxjaskier #jaskier #witcher #witcher fanfic #fic #my writing #gift for a friend #I scream a truth you hear a lie #multichapter

37 notes · View notes

love-little-lotte · 3 years

Text

Ranking the Bridgerton Books

I know I should write this in my book blog, but frankly, I have no idea how to make another section for it, and I'm too lazy to research. So, I'm writing here. Please bear with me.

Recently, I read the Bridgerton books by Julia Quinn. You might be familiar with the first book since it was adapted into a popular Netflix series by Shonda Rhimes. I binge-watched it back in December, and I have to say... not a fan. I guess I just find it too cheesy and annoying. Plus, the actors who portrayed Daphne and Simon had no romantic chemistry whatsoever.

But I'm not here to talk about the TV show. I'm here to talk about the novels! This is actually not my first time reading the books. Well, not exactly. I've read six out of the eight novels when I was in high school, I believe. I found the books when I was in high school as it was in the library (please don't ask me why my high school library has smutty novels in it, I have no idea who's in charge - they had Fifty Shades of Grey for a week but they eventually removed it from the catalog when they learned what's it about, but I digress). As a fifteen-year-old girl, the series hooked me.

If you're not familiar with the books or the Netflix series, here's a short synopsis: Set in the Regency era, the Bridgertons are one of the most influential families of the ton. The books follow the love stories of the eight Bridgerton siblings, alphabetically named Anthony, Benedict, Colin, Daphne, Eloise, Francesca, Gregory, and Hyacinth.

I didn't read it in chronological order back then, though. I just borrowed any available Bridgerton book in the library if there's one. You might think I was too young to read a romantic novel like that, but I guess I was mature enough to understand it.

Rereading it now that I'm twenty-two (cue Taylor Swift!), my heart's not in the same place. I was more skeptical with the writing, the story, and, most especially, the characters. But, really, I'm not that heartless, so I will cut the author some slack. Quinn wrote this at a different time for a different audience. It's not that long ago, but you'd be surprised how fast things change.

However, even though I have major criticisms, I cannot stop reading them. There's something about the novels that put me in a chokehold. Despite everything, I was able to enjoy it overall. This series is the definition of "guilty pleasure."

Anyway, here's my ranking of the Bridgerton books! I only read the eight main ones, which means I didn't include novellas of any kind. Also, as a fair warning, I might discuss spoilers and whatnot, so please beware. And do keep in mind that I'm writing my opinion, so if you don't agree, well... tough. I'd like to hear your comments, though, if you have any.

#8 - An Offer From A Gentleman (Book 3)

Honestly, this was probably one of my favorite Bridgerton books when I was younger. A Cinderella retelling? Come on! As someone who loves fairytales and forbidden romances, this was supposed to be heaven. However... it was not.

Benedict may be my least favorite Bridgerton brother. No, scratch that - he is my least favorite Bridgerton out of all of them. He's whiny and creepy and I was plainly annoyed with how he keeps asking Sophie to be his mistress in the novel. This was not the gentleman I imagined when I was younger. I might have liked him more in the first few parts, but as the story progressed, he became too childish and obsessive. Sophie, on the other hand, was all right. She's definitely one of my favorite Bridgerton heroines. She was tough but kind in her own way. I wish she had a better partner than Benedict, but I guess they suit each other in the end.

I just detest the climax and the ending of this book. It was too comical - and not in a hilarious way. I guess the same could be said for the entire novel. This was so, so different from the rest, to be honest.

Overall Rating: 3/10

#7 - On The Way To The Wedding (Book 8)

Fun fact: this is the first Bridgerton novel I read. And even then, I wasn't a huge fan of it. Just like An Offer From A Gentleman, the climax was a bit silly but more in a soap opera level than comical.

The biggest factor why I didn't like this was the characters. They were all so bland. Especially our hero and heroine. Gregory is the least featured Bridgerton in the novel, so I don't really know what to make of him at the beginning of the novel. In his book, I learned that he was a good guy - and that's all. Maybe he's too young and naive when it comes to romance (which is endearing, I have to admit), but he has no interesting personality whatsoever. Lucy, the heroine in this novel, was the same. She was described as pragmatic and sensible, which perfectly sums her up. Also, she's a great friend to Hermione (whose last name is Watson, by the way, and you can't tell me otherwise that this isn't a Harry Potter reference - Hermione Granger and Emma Watson? If that's not a reference, well, that's a very crazy coincidence, but I digress again). Gregory and Lucy's story was average - not bad, not good, just so incredibly dull.

The fun parts started way too early. It was difficult to find intrigue in the middle and end bits. The second main conflict, which happened near the end of the book, was truthfully not that good and was just obviously a ploy to keep things longer. You'd think that the Bridgerton novels would end the series with a bang. Alas, it did not.

Overall Rating: 4/10

#6 - To Sir Phillip, With Love (Book 5)

Eloise finally gets her turn in her own love story. She used to be one of my favorite Bridgertons, but when she got her own story, she was reduced into a plain girl. Gone was the feisty and outspoken Eloise we knew from the previous books.

Maybe it's because she's paired up with one of the most insufferable Bridgerton heroes, Sir Phillip. Just an inch away from Benedict, Sir Phillip maybe my next least favorite character. And it annoys me so much that Eloise gets to fall in love with someone like him.

It actually started pretty well. Before the events in the book started, Eloise and Phillip had already been corresponding for a year through letters. Phillip was on the lookout for - not a wife - but a mother for his two unruly children, and he thought Eloise was perfect for the role. He's a terrible father, but the book tries to convince us that it's not his fault because he had a bad upbringing by his own father (a recurring theme in the Bridgerton books - four heroes are plagued with different daddy issues). Eloise tried her best to turn things around, and of course, she eventually did, but I just really hate Phillip's initial intentions for seeking out a wife. He gets better in the end, sure, but I still really don't like him. At least the book wasn't short of excitement, else it would've been rated a bit lower.

Obviously, my favorite part in this book was when the Bridgerton brothers stormed into Phillip's house. He got what he deserved, truly.

Overall Rating: 4/10

#5 - The Duke and I (Book 1)

Now, this is the most well-known story in the Bridgerton literary universe, thanks to the Netflix series. I know I've said that I wasn't a fan of the series, but really, the Netflix writers and producers deserve all the gold in the world because they managed to transform this novel into something exciting.

Daphne and Simon had their moments, that's for sure, but as a couple, they were just so... meh. I liked their relationship at the start when they were still pretending to be courting. But as soon as they got married, everything interesting about the two of them sizzled out. And please don't get me started with how Daphne "took advantage" of drunk Simon. Thank God the show fixed that.

Despite my mixed feelings, this was a decent start to the Bridgerton books. There's really nothing majorly wrong about this novel (except for the aforementioned "taking advantage.") It laid out the future characters well. Lady Whistledown was also great. Thinking about her made me miss her because she wasn't featured in the later novels (you'll soon find out why).

Overall Rating: 5/10

#4 - It's In His Kiss (Book 7)

Since Eloise was stripped away from her feistiness when she got her own love story, I was obviously worried for Hyacinth. Thankfully, she didn't change! She was still the same tactless girl in the previous books. And for that, she gets to be my champion as my favorite Bridgerton.

This is the first time I've read this book, and oh, I'm surprised with how exciting it was. Hyacinth's hero, Gareth, perfectly suited her. Gareth was able to tame her impulsiveness, while also proving to be a good romantic partner for her. I loved that he could match her intellectually, too. It was never a bore whenever they have one of their silly banters. Lady Danbury was also featured more in this novel. She's one of my favorite side characters. As Gareth's grandmother, she was determined to bring him and Hyacinth together.

Maybe the only criticism I have in this novel is Gareth's issues with his father. I find it really weird that most of the heroes' problems are with their fathers. It just seemed lazy writing, in my opinion. But oh well, Gareth was interesting in his own way and that's perfectly fine.

Overall Rating: 6/10

#3 - Romancing Mister Bridgerton (Book 4)

I have a feeling that this is Quinn's favorite Bridgerton book. In this book, it's Colin's turn to find love. Colin is featured in several of his siblings' stories - in fact, in almost all of the books, he had an important role to play.

I love Colin and Penelope's story. Long before this book, they already knew each other. Penelope was Eloise's best friend, and she's almost always in the Bridgerton household. Colin has been forced by his mother for God knows how long to dance with Penelope every time there's a party. But it was only now that they became closer. Unbeknownst to Colin, Penelope had been in love with him for half her life, even though he didn't particularly care for her. Penelope speaks for all of us who know about unrequited love all too well.

Furthermore, this is the novel where they finally reveal who was behind the Lady Whistledown column. Yes, viewers of the Netflix series who are not familiar with the books. This is the part - and not in the first book! I'm so mad that they revealed Penelope as Lady Whistledown in the first season of the series, when in fact it's much later than that.

However, that's also one of the lowest points of this novel for me. Lady Whistledown's identity reveal was a bit anti-climactic. A little bit laughable, even. Also, also, also: I hated Colin's reaction to Penelope's secret. He didn't have to be angry and jealous of her, but ah well, whatever makes for conflict. Nevertheless, I love both Colin and Penelope because they had so much character and depth. Quinn was certainly biased when she wrote this.

Overall Rating: 8/10

#2 - The Viscount Who Loved Me (Book 2)

Remember earlier when I said that I cannot stop reading the books because even though I knew it wasn't that good, it was still highly enjoyable? Well, I'm really talking more about this book, to be specific. I think I've read it in less than 24 hours because of how much I love it. And yes, Anthony and Kate had their obvious flaws, but oh God, they were so perfect together. I can't help but imagine Jonathan Bailey from the Netflix series as Anthony when I was reading it. I swoon, all the time.

This used to be my favorite Bridgerton novel, but that's only because I haven't read my new favorite until recently. Anthony and Kate's story was just oh-so good and intimate and romantic. Kate's also my favorite heroine in the entire Bridgerton literary universe. She was headstrong and loving. She's unafraid to put the happiness of her family first.

In so many ways, Anthony was the same. He assumed the role of Viscount Bridgerton when he was only eighteen when his father unexpectedly died. Since then, he overlooks the family's estates and well-being. Yes, this is one of those "daddy issues" stories I mentioned earlier, but this one was kind of done tastefully. He didn't wish to fall in love but everything changed when he encountered Kate. He didn't mean to be attracted to her, but here we are.

Anthony and Kate had so much understanding between them. I agree Anthony was a bit of a dick when Kate asked if they could have one week to get to know each other before consummating the marriage (worse things have been said by Benedict and Phillip, though), but in the end, I can't deny that I truly love them together.

Overall Rating: 8/10

#1 - When He Was Wicked (Book 6)

*blushing furiously* So what if I put the smuttiest and steamiest novel as my top choice?! What about it? Oh, but really, though, I can't stop reading this. Francesca is one of the least known Bridgertons in the books, just like Gregory. I didn't know anything about her, except that she's quieter than most of her siblings. It was also first mentioned in Romancing Mister Bridgerton that she had already married but was sadly widowed after two years.

Michael was Francesca's late husband's cousin and best friend, which makes him her best friend, too. He has been secretly in love with Francesca since the first moment he laid eyes on her but was unable to pursue her because she's with his cousin John. In addition, I'd like to say that Michael is my favorite hero in the Bridgerton books. He's very charming and wicked, and really, my knees buckle at the thought of him.

Long after John passed away, Francesca and Michael reunited. Francesca was looking for a new husband because she desperately wants a family, while Michael... well, Michael was still in love with her. There was undeniable passion and intimacy between them, and it was hard to stay away from each other. I seriously have a thing for men secretly pining over women they love. That's got to be one of my favorite tropes.

However, the book itself was a bit longer than necessary. While I understand Francesca's hesitations in marrying Michael, it could've been shortened because it felt draggy by the end. Her constant changing of minds was a bit annoying, and yeah, it was probably a ploy to lengthen the novel.

Additionally, I was a bit skeptical at first of how they're going to treat their relationship, especially since Francesca was truly in love with her first husband. But it was done so nicely. Francesca and Michael never forget about John, even in the end. I loved what John's mother said to Michael in a letter at the end, "Thank you, Michael, for letting my son love her first."

I guess I love their story more than the other couples because both were already mature and experienced. Just like everyone else in this romantic series, Francesca and Michael belonged together. The entirety of Chapter 19 is proof of that.

Overall Rating: 9/10

***

Overall, the Bridgerton books are quite entertaining, despite being a cheesy and sappy series. I admit that I feel quite lonely and bored now that I've finished all eight of them. Ah well, there's always the possibility of rereading them!

#books #bridgerton #bridgerton books #julia quinn #novels #reading #book ranking #romance #romantic books #historical fiction

18 notes · View notes

winetae · 4 years

Text

wall to wall (m.) 01

↳ in a pornographic movie, refers to a series of sex scenes with no plot.

⇁ female reader x hoseok

⇁ smut, porn star!au

⇁ sex work, insecurity, jealousy, slut shaming/objectification (not the sexy kind), role played scenario that includes: d/s dynamics - dom!hoseok, porn star level dirty talk, stuff that should never happen in a kitchen bc hygiene, daddy kink, impreg kink, rough sex, spanking, a lot of finger sucking, this fic is a poor attempt at social commentary

⇁ 22.5k

. . .

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

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

part 01 | part 02 | part 03

author’s note | inspired by the piece ‘slut-shaming: pornstars are humans too’ & the life after porn documentaries on netflix. thank u to jordan, eva, amy, venus, addie and lu for being a part of this collab !! *inserts a million heart emojis and a big fat NUT emoticon*

re:warnings, the slut shaming is done by others and can also be considered as internalized oppression. it’s something the reader struggles with and eventually works to overcome. this first part isn’t as smutty as the second but regardless i hope u can bear with me lol. ty, as always, for giving my writing a chance. i hope u enjoy it or at least take something from it !

wall2wall can be read as a sequel to my fic money shot. same disclaimer applies: this story does claim to accurately portray the world of adult entertainment

SCENE 01 - YOU’VE GOT MALE. TAKE 01. ROLL A.

Today is just one of those days you wish you had slept straight through. Maybe if you had, you wouldn’t be dying from the sheer dullness of having nothing to do.

You huff out a sigh, bored out of your goddamn mind.

Head cradled in the crook of your left palm, you use your available hand to refresh your instagram feed. Much to your disappointment, nothing new shows up. The same video of a dog chasing its own tail plays on but you pay it no heed, the novelty having worn off after the first few times.

The next half hour passes by in a similar fashion, each result proving to be as unavailing as the last. You’d think that after a while you’d give up and find a new distraction to pass the time but whether out of habit or boredom-induced insanity, you persist with your fruitless attempts.

Today really fucking blows, you think glumly, the curve of your mouth thinning into a grimace. As the adorable corgie keeps the infernal cycle going, yapping and running around incessantly, you’re struck with a terrifying thought. Maybe this is how you will die - condemned to live your life stuck in the worst sort of monotony imaginable.

What you had expected to be a “quick and easy” shoot has turned into a tedious ordeal that you don’t see ending anytime soon. And whilst on-set complications and prolongations are frequent enough that they’re almost expected, today really takes the cake. Even during your rookie days, you can’t recall running into delays of this scale.

To top it off, the weather app announces a record-breaking heat - which in itself is bad enough. As luck would have it, it gets worse. The place rented out for today’s filming lacks proper air conditioning, equipped instead with electric fans that look like they’ve been around since the 1980s.

A quick glance into the vanity mirror confirms that you look as frazzled as you feel. Because of the humidity level that weighs down the air, your hair is in a right state. You fight a grimace off your face. The straggly hair coupled with the oily sheen on your face...it’s far from your best look, to say the least.

And to think thousands of people will get to see it up close in 1080p resolution... It’s a terrifying concept.

You’re already dreading the upcoming sex scenes that you’ve yet to film. It’s always a messy affair - fluids of all kind end up literally everywhere - but the sweltering heat undoubtedly makes it ten times worse. A shudder works its way down your spine.

Frankly speaking, the mere thought of having hot and wild sex in these less than ideal working conditions kills your libido. Under the glaring studio lights, surrounded by sweaty crewmen and pressed up an equally feverish body - it’s basically the porn equivalent of a fuckin’ barbecue party.

Yeah, no thanks. You’d rather be at home, with the air conditioner at full blast, nestled in the comfy cushions of your sofa as you marathon a series of your choice on netflix. Only the promised sum of money keeps you from bolting and calling it quits altogether.

“So when are you gonna drop the new boy toy?” a voice buzzes in your ear not unlike a pesky fly.

Tempting as it is to ignore it, you peel your eyes away from your reflection just in time to catch Seokjin shoot you the most unimpressed look in his repertoire, one perfectly groomed eyebrow arched in judgment.

In the background, an old ceiling fan whirs on but does nothing to cool you off. If anything, its constant rattling only exacerbates your growing headache.

“What are you talking about?" You flick a piece of imaginary lint off your dressing robe, your tone neutral.

Seokjin’s brown eyes see right through your feigned air of indifference. Months of working by your side have made him an expert at reading your body language, be it naked or clothed. A wolfish grin adorns his face as he swoops in for the kill.

“Oh come on. You know exactly who I’m talking about. Jongmin. He’s short - comes up to right about here.” Seokjin holds a hand up to his chest to illustrate his point, deliberately shaving off a few inches off your boyfriend’s height in order to antagonize you.

You bite the inside of your cheek, careful not to spit out the retort that’s perched on the tip of your tongue. It takes a great deal of effort to unclench the muscles in your jaw but you manage to school your features into an expression of polite confusion.

Seokjin frowns, dissatisfied with your lack of response. You don’t need to be a mind reader to know that he’s currently thinking of new ways to provoke you.

When the silence stretches on and he’s yet to riposte, you allow yourself to relax again, believing that he’s given up on being an asshole.

To your chagrin, you’re sorely mistaken. The last of your self-restraint is finally put to the test as his next words do nothing to quell your irritation.

“Jongmin.” He repeats slowly, like you need it spelled out for you. “He follows you around everywhere like a lap dog. It’d be cute if it wasn’t so, you know, pathetic.”

“His name is Jimin,” you correct for the nth time.

Instantly, you reprimand yourself for playing into his games and granting him the attention he so craves. Fulfilling his twisted desire is the last thing you hope to achieve. Staying silent would be the sensible thing to do but your brain completely bypasses the memo. The moment your mouth opens it’s impossible to quash the urge to justify yourself.

Maybe it’s your pride coming into play. Maybe it’s Seokjin’s uncanny ability to get under anyone’s skin at will. Whatever the case may be, you stammer out, on the defensive, “And he’s not my 'boy toy'. We - it’s not - we’re dating.” But the word feels like a weight on your tongue. You swallow.

The statement earns you a scoff of incredulity. “Dating? Him?”

You finally set your phone down and aim a glare his way, abandoning all pretense at being indifferent because—Jesus. Is the idea of you dating that unfathomable? He’s never been this worked up over any of your other relationships. Granted, none of them have ever lasted this long but is it really any of his business who you choose to see in your free time?

“I don’t get what your problem is. What’s so wrong with me dating?”

“Have you seen who you’re dating?”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?!”

While this isn’t the first time your agent lets a judgmental comment slip from between his pearly white teeth, it’s usually not laced with spite. Seokjin is never outright hostile, preferring sweet words of manipulation and thinly-veiled insults to shows of aggression. The attempt to get a rise out of you does not go by unnoticed. His anger, this time, feels personal.

You wrack your brain, quickly sifting through your recent memories to try and figure out why he’s chosen to be such an ass today. You’re certain that you’ve filled out all the necessary paperwork required to proceed with today’s filming, and yes, after thinking it over, you know that you went to the obligatory medical checkup last week. So there really is no reason for him to bitch at you unless—

The proverbial light bulb flickers on and it all suddenly makes sense.

You’re willing to bet a hefty sum of money that the high-paying gig you turned down two weekends ago is to blame for his abnormal crotchety behavior.

Yes, that would explain it.

Due to Seokjin's well-known propensity to hold a grudge for longer than average, the odds that he’s still hung up over the lost deal are pretty high. And as much as his disappointment and frustration are understandable from a business standpoint, you don’t appreciate being used as a verbal punching bag for him to expel all those pent-up feelings.

Seokjin hums, a knowing smirk pulling the sides of his mouth upwards. Fleetingly, and not for the first time, you find it a shame that his cockiness tarnishes his otherwise handsome face. “I give it another couple of days until you get bored. How long has this gone on for? A month? How are you not yanking out your hair from the sheer boredom of dating...that."

A muscle in your jaw ticks.

“He’s not Voldemort, you coward. Would it honestly kill you to say his name?” Seokjin’s expression begs to differ. You cut him off before he can add fuel to the fire. “And I won’t get bored. Jimin’s - he’s a perfectly nice guy. We’ve been seeing each other just fine—not that it’s any of your concern.”

“Yes, he’s nice,” Seokjin concedes easily, brushing off any attempts at putting an end to the conversation. He grins, wide and smug, like he knows you can’t refute what he’ll say next. “Perfectly nice and boring. The kind of guy you’d bring back home if your parents were straight-laced folks that wanted to marry you off to a choir boy. Seriously, how the fuck did a guy like him end up in the porn industry? He belongs in a church or, I dunno, maybe some neighborhood book club - not behind a camera filming you getting flogged by a daddy dom.”

You sniff. “Just because he tucks his shirts in doesn’t—”

“It’s not just the shirts, honey.” He leans over to pat your hand in a gesture of consolation. Used to his antics, his attempt is easily blocked by a swat of your hand.

You muster the dirtiest look you’re capable of, the kind of look that sends men to early graves, but he simply smiles in response, completely unfazed.

Any person with the minimum amount of tact would know to politely change the subject. It’s unfortunate that your agent does not belong to that pool of individuals, choosing instead to be selectively blind to overt social cues.

He continues on, unperturbed, like he has a point to prove. “Believe it or not, I know you. Sometimes, for whatever reason, perhaps a lapse in judgement but who the fuck knows, you like to venture out of your comfort zone and experiment. Like with the chickenshit gingerbread spice concoctions they come out with at Starbucks to celebrate turkey season and Christmas or the cream cheese makis they make for the white crowd who want to eat sushi but don’t like anything other than white rice and seaweed. And, trust me, while I’m all for diversity and broadening your personal experiences, don’t you think there’s a reason why you always go back to your preferred choice of an iced latte with two sugars?”

“Did you just compare Jimin to a gingerbread latte?”

Okay, so admittedly you’ve made some questionable food and beverage choices in the past, but the comparison is a fucking reach.

“You’re absolutely right." Seokjin gives a firm nod of his head, his expression serious. "Now that you mention it, he’s definitely a vanilla soy. Bland and boring. Targeted towards the middle-aged soccer moms that think veganism is a trend, not a lifestyle. Wants to be a people-pleaser but misses the mark.”

“I didn’t know it was Share Your Unwanted Opinion Time,” you grind out from behind a strained smile. “If I had, I would have said something about your receding hairline earlier.”

It’s a low blow but the way Seokjin’s plump lips curl in displeasure makes the dig worth it. One of his hands automatically shoot up to flatten the bangs that are usually slicked back with copious amounts of gel.

Offended, he spits, “It’s not receding! There’s a difference between premature balding and a bleach job gone wrong.”

"I'm not sure people care to differentiate. Looks like a receding hairline to me." You shrug while picking at your nails. “You’re nearing that age, too, so.”

“You just try looking this good at 30. Fucking try.”

He waits for a reply but your interest has already waned. You scroll through your phone, bored once more.

Seokjin makes a disgruntled noise in the back of his throat at the clear dismissal. You swear you hear him grumble under his breath - something along the lines of never going blonde again - but can’t find it in you to care, not when he’s finally ceased his nagging.

"Filming in twenty!" someone shouts from outside the door.

"They’re running behind schedule," Seokjin notes after glancing down at his gold wristwatch. "How can they take more than an hour to fix the lighting? Tch. Bunch of fuckin’ amateurs."

He aims a glare in your direction as if their incompetence is somehow your fault.

You have half a mind to glower back but miraculously withhold your sentiments. Admittedly, he isn’t wrong - the team you’re working with today keeps committing blunders even rookies wouldn’t dare perpetrate - but you’d rather get your driving license revoked forever than to acknowledge that Seokjin’s right and inflate his already unnaturally huge ego.

Something heavy plops into your lap. When you look down, the glossy surface of a magazine reflects the harsh lights suspended over the vanity table back at you.

“I didn’t want to resort to this but you leave me no choice,” he says in response to your look of confusion.

“What’s this?”

You hold up the magazine expecting the worst. It’s heavy in your hands, the pages thicker than the gossip rags you’d find in a dentist’s waiting room.

“’s the newest issue. Came out this morning. I’d actually like it back once you’re done because I haven’t finished reading it and God knows how hard it was to get my—hey, you can stop flicking aimlessly, I saved you the trouble and bookmarked the page,” Seokjin explains a bit impatiently.

When you shoot him a glance, his attention is trained on your face, not the magazine. He barely blinks. Like a snake honing in on its prey. And that kind of intense focus - that can’t be good. After all, you’ve known Seokjin long enough to suspect that whatever trick he has up his sleeve will give him the advantage he needs to deliver the killing blow.

Gingerly, you flip through the pages like you’re afraid the magazine might self-destruct in your hands. Which would be a waste, in your opinion, since Exquis is a damn good magazine - perhaps less intellectual than Playboy, but definitely classier than Hustler. Its reputation speaks for itself. Known for hiring the best photographers and carefully combing through their models, it’s selective, only picking the cream of the cr—

Everything around you stills.

Your eyes narrow at the spread because there, on the page Seokjin’s taken great care to bookmark, a model poses provocatively on a lounge chaise near a crystal clear pool. It’s similar to a shoot you’ve done in the past but you can tell right away that the quality of this is above and beyond anything you’ve ever done. The lighting is better, heck even the barely-there-swimsuit looks like it costs ten times more than whatever you had been told to throw on at the time.

The vexation you feel only worsens once it finally registers who the model is. Her youthful and pretty face carries a permanent haughtiness that not even makeup or acting can entirely mask.

The pages crease in your hold as you flick through the rest of the spread dedicated to the up and coming talents. With every new page that has her plastered on its glossy surface you feel your stomach sink.

2...3...4...

“Five pages,” you curse under your breath. For a magazine this renowned, it’s...a lot. Commendable, even. Your nose crinkles. “Well, fuck. me. sideways.”

Seokjin gloats, reveling in your outrage. “Hmph. I told you, didn’t I? Passing up the opportunity to work with Kim Namjoon would come and bite you in the ass.”

“Aha! So you have been a little bitch because I refused to shoot with Namjoon.” You whirl around in your chair and use the magazine to jab him in the chest. He easily steps aside, avoiding your attempt at wrinkling his trademark Armani button-down shirt.

“It was the chance of a lifetime and you knew it.” He turns his nose up and sniffs.

“That’s what you said about filming with Min Yoongi last month.” You roll your eyes. “I can’t take you seriously if you’re gonna say the same thing every time a new guy shows up.”

“Shooting with Agust D did help you gain some mainstream popularity. You’ve gotten love calls for catalog printings and your name is now automatically on the invite sheet for every C-list event in town. Namjoon would have given you another needed boost.” Seokjin folds his arms, lecturing mode switched on. You struggle with the instinctive urge to tune him out. “Sure, he’s got a niche audience, but he’s famous in his field and it would have helped expand your fa—“

“Not to kink shame or anything because we don’t do that, but Namjoon is a freak. And don’t deny it, I’ve seen his videos.”

“He’s specialized in particular—“

“You were the one telling me not to film all sorts of shit right off the bat,” you cut in, refusing to back down from your stance. There’s no way you’ll let him sweet-talk you out of this one, not after the multiple videos of Namjoon you’d binged one weekend. “Stick to one story.”

“Well, we’re not exactly ‘right off the bat’ anymore, are we? We’ve passed that stage. Right now is a crucial time in your career so you’ve got to make it count. Filming rehashed videos of the same pizza delivery guy scenario gets boring and fast. As pretty as you are, you’re not offering anything new to the table, are you?”

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

Still. “I refuse to work with a guy whose porn alias is Cock Monster.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers.”

“Well I said no,” you insist stubbornly.

“Well if you had said yes, maybe it would be your ass cheeks getting their own two page spread in Exquis instead,” jabs Seokjin, hitting you where it hurts.

Ugh. The reminder that Joy’s bested you yet again riles you up even more. That, coupled with the likelihood of your career ending imminently, makes you stop and think.

Your agent goes on to say, “Don’t you want the AVN for best newcomer? Where did that competitive edge go? At the rate this is going, Joy’s going to steal it from right under your nose.”

“Like fucking hell,” you hiss. The magazine bends under the strength of your grip. “That one’s mine.”

You absolutely refuse to lose out to her. Every fiber of your being rejects the idea of letting her one-up you again.

“Not if you don’t start branching out. The last time you did anything substantial or interesting was about a month ago. It’s already old news. People are going to forget you shot that sequence altogether if you don’t do anything that puts you back on the map.”

A pause. “…I really don’t want to film with someone who willingly named himself Cock Mons—”

“Fine.” Seokjin heaves a resigned sigh. “You don’t have to fuck the monster willy. Willy monster? Hm. Wouldn’t it make more sense to name himself Monster Cock and not Cock Monster? Wonder why he does th—”

You suppress a snort. “Please spare me while you can. It’s amazing, that talent for making everything sound a lot worse than it already it is.”

“Why, thank you.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

“You trying to insult someone who’s willing to find you someone else to work with? I can always ask Monster Meatstick if he’s up for—”

“No! No, that’s - not necessary.” You force out a smile that wouldn’t fool anyone into thinking its genuine. “Why would I ever insult you? You’re the best agent one could ask for.”

“That’s what I thought.” He takes your compliment, forced or not. When he smiles, smugness rolls off of him in waves. “One day you’ll realize you’re taking my talent for granted. I’ll find you another onscreen partner even though you don’t know what you’re missing out.”

“Thank you.”

“But!” He interjects and this time you don’t bother swallowing down your groan, already dreading the stipulations he has in store for you. “You have to promise to hold up your end of the bargain and try your best.”

Indignation colors your face. Your mouth falls open, retort at the ready. “When do I ever slack off on the job?! I’ve never given a half-assed blowjob in my life - and trust me, the temptation was there. Do you have any idea how hard it is to stay focused when the guy can’t cum on command? I once had to get my jaw realigned.”

“I’m not saying you’re slacking off,” he backtracks, switching tactics. His expression is soon replaced by the business-like smile you’re used to seeing on the regular. Tone buttery and appeasing, he tries to convince you through flattery instead. “You work hard and do a good job… I wouldn’t have signed you on otherwise. The problem isn’t with the quality of your work but with - all the rest.”

“The rest?” you parrot back dumbly, trying and failing to comprehend.

Seokjin scowl returns, unable to keep his genuine emotions under wraps.

“D’you honestly think you’re at a point in your career where you can pick and choose your jobs like this? Ever since you started dating that - that thing - your workload has significantly decreased. And not because you lacked opportunities. You had them but you turned them all down.” Visibly getting worked up over the issue, his voice rises an octave, then two. “What should’ve been a good spring board, only brought you back to square one. I know I can’t force you to take jobs if you refuse to, but I can say that your potential is going to waste. I’ve never seen someone sabotage herself like this before and it’s driving me up the wall. While I get that you’re under the delusion that you’ve found true love or whatever Disney fantasy Jungmin has sold you, you can’t turn down projects over and over again without there being serious repercussions. You’re smart enough to know this. I shouldn’t have to remind you.”

Seokjin’s chest heaves as he takes in several big gulps of air, visibly out of breath after his monologue.

For him to explode like popcorn kennels in the microwave... You reckon he’d let his feelings pile up inside him for a while, silently stewing.

You’ve never seen your agent look so visibly distressed. He’s normally the picture-perfect image of composure so the sight that greets you is enough of a shock to render you speechless.

Deep down, Seokjin probably means well. There aren’t a lot of agents like him; you’re one of the lucky ones. Most girls are discarded by their agencies as quickly as used tissues once they get milked for all their worth.

Thankfully it’s never been that way with Seokjin. He claims that he’s in it for the long run. According to him the quick buck isn’t worth seeing the light die out in girl after girl. Perhaps that’s why he takes the task of ensuring your safety so seriously. How many times has he warned you to steer clear of this or that seedy director or ban you from attending drug-heavy parties? While his behavior can come off as overbearing on the worst days, at least he cares.

Sadly, it’s more than you can say for most.

In a way, he’s the only one in this business rooting for your success—if only because his paycheck depends on how well you perform. You like to pretend there’s more to it than that.

“I’m not - what’s Jimin got to do with any of this?” you splutter, still digesting the long tirade you’ve just been subjected to.

“Are you serious? That’s all you got from what I said?”

“Well, no, but I still fail to—”

“Do you think me a fool?” He crosses his arms tightly across his broad chest. “The only scenes you’re willing to shoot are when he’s on set. Are you a kid or something? Since when do you need supervision to shoot a sex scene?”

“N-no. It just worked out that way, okay?” In reply to his dubious expression, you force yourself to explain. “Okay, okay - I get it. Maybe I might’ve lessened my workload recently but it has nothing to do with Jimin, alright? My vagina needs rest from time to time. Just because it’s my job doesn’t mean I don’t need a break. I’m human too, not some blow-up doll.”

“You expect me to believe that he has nothing to do with it? You were perfectly fine before he entered the picture. And now that you’re all loved up you only pick—”

A knock, so timid you barely catch it, cuts off the rest of his sentence.

“Yeah? Come in, I’m decent!” you yell - not that you care whether someone sees you naked or not. The concept of modesty has long been lost on you. Some might call it shamelessness or vanity, but you take pride in how you look. And why wouldn’t you? Your body is your bread and butter. You spend hours in the gym every week so that your ass looks good no matter what camera angle.

“It’s me.”

The door opens a crack and the speaker tentatively sticks his mop of hair through the small opening. As soon as you recognize him, your heart leaps at the sight and you quickly tighten your robe together.

“Oh, speak of the devil,” Seokjin mutters under his breath.

You resist the urge to throttle him and plaster on your brightest smile instead.

“I wanted to see how you were doing. Sorry I took so long... I would’ve come earlier but they needed my help.” Jimin scratches a spot behind his ear, sheepish. “Someone tripped over the cables and smashed a camera lens so we had to find a replacement. The director threw a fit and wanted to call it quits so we’ve been trying to calm him down this entire time. He did - eventually, anyway, after he called his dealer on set.”

A disapproving frown tugs at his mouth corners and mars his otherwise perfect appearance.

You take a moment to swoon internally. You’ll never get tired of admiring your boyfriend. Unlike the majority of the on-set personnel, he doesn’t reek of weed or booze or stale cigarette smoke. His ironed clothes and immaculate appearance always make it easy to spot him amidst the hungover crew.

“That’s fine! I kept myself busy.”

Jimin returns your smile, his eyes creasing into beautiful half-moon crescents. You don’t know what kind of love-struck expression covers your face but next to you Seokjin makes a noise that sounds like a cross between a gag and a cough.

“Oh! Here, I brought snacks. I didn’t know what you liked so I just grabbed everything I could get my hands on.” He holds up a paper plate stacked with treats no doubt stolen from the catering service. “I know I kind of went overboard but I wanted to make sure you kept your sugar level up.”

“That’s sweet of you,” you coo, reaching to take the plate from him. He’s piled on the sweets so high that it’s a miracle nothing has toppled over yet. You aren’t especially hungry but take a bite out of a chocolate candy to show how much you appreciate the effort. Its gooey consistency melts on your tongue, the taste so sweet it sticks to your teeth.

“How adorable,” chimes in Seokjin, his hand grabbing a licorice stick from the mountain of candy before you can swat him away. “Thanks Jongmin.”

“Jimin,” he corrects good-naturedly, his smile not budging an inch. You think, privately, that’s what you like the most about him. Not many have the ability to block out Seokjin’s bullshit so effectively.

“Mmh,” your manager says around a mouthful of candy. “Seokjin. Pleasure.”

You elbow him while gritting your teeth. “Can you...give us a moment?”

Seokjin swallows down the treat and opens his mouth in protest. He has the audacity to look betrayed. “You’re kicking me out of our room so the two of you can get it on? Really?”

Jimin’s cheeks flush and you quickly cut in before your agent can make matters worse.

"I just want to talk without you breathing down my neck. Weren’t you going off earlier about how I didn’t need adult supervision anymore? Well?”

“Fine. Fine! But you owe me. Again.” He grabs his portable phone charger from the vanity table before making his exit. “And don’t forget what we talked about!”

What a fucking drama queen. You have no idea why he always insists on making a scene when you know for a fact that he would’ve left of his own volition in five minutes anyway. For reasons he has no trouble disclosing, he can’t stand Jimin’s presence.

“I won’t,” you grumble just so that you can get him out of your hair faster.

The door slams shut with more force than strictly necessary. Silence hangs in the air for a brief moment before Jimin turns his warm gaze towards you.

“What was that about?”

“Uh, nothing. You know how he is...” You play with the ends of your braided hair. “He can’t go very long without throwing a tantrum.’

“He seems very protective of you,” remarks Jimin, a thoughtful expression painting his angelic face. “I think that’s why he’s not that fond of me.”

“Nonsense,” you rebut immediately as you take his hands in yours. “Who could ever not like you?”

Jimin allows his lips to quirk into a small, self-deprecating smile that you promptly erase with a kiss. His lips feel pillow-soft against yours, and you let yoruself indulge in the feeling before pulling back.

You sigh, remembering the scene you’ve yet to film. “If only my co-star was you.”

He laughs at that. “Seokjin would probably throw a fit, huh?”

Jimin treats you to dinner that night.

He chooses the restaurant. It’s a small, quaint place, tucked into a hidden corner just minutes away from the bustling main street of the shopping district. It’s not the kind of place people stumble across by accident but judging by the occupied tables, business is doing fine by reputation alone.

The owner comes out to greet Jimin by name. They exchange warm greetings, the woman asking him how his brother’s been doing and whether he’ll stop by anytime soon.

“Ah - I’m not sure... You know how he is... I’ll let him know you said hi.”

“Tell him I’ll give him an extra serving of ribs. That was his favorite, right?”

When her eyes trail over Jimin’s shoulder and spot you, she grins so wide you’d think she won the lottery or something. “Park Jimin! You’ve gone and found a girlfriend! And so pretty, too. Ah, really...time sure flies by. I remember when you first started coming here - and now!”

You smile back, greeting her with a polite handshake. The owner is quick to usher you into a small booth in the back. She hands you the menus while patting Jimin on his shoulder. “I’ll get you drinks. It’s on the house.”

“You don’t have to do that!” protests Jimin, shaking his head. “Really. It’s not—”

“Nonsense.” She waves a hand at him. “You’ll get two more if you keep that up, Park Jimin.”

Once she knows she’s earned Jimin’s compliance, she leaves with a satisfied smile. You can tell by their genuine interactions that she’s close to Jimin. Family, perhaps? Either way, this isn’t a place Jimin tracked down on yelp. He flips through the menu with ease, like he’s done it hundreds of times before.

“Sorry about that,” he says once she’s out of earshot. “I used to come here all the time with my family when we all still lived here. They moved and live in a different town now so we haven’t had a meal together here in years, but. I still come here. The food is good, of course, but - I dunno. I have good memories here so I thought I’d share it with you. It sounds stupid now.”

He laughs quietly, cheeks flushed a pretty pink.

“I love it.” You can’t help but smile, cheeks hurting from the force of it. Invisible liquor runs through your bloodstream, a ball of warmth unfurling in your belly. “Thank you.”

A pause ensues. It’s one of those moments in which you’re unsure if you’ve said too much or not enough. Being here with Jimin means a lot. You’re not the most verbose person but you hope that Jimin can feel your sincerity.

Maybe your stare comes off as too intense because Jimin breaks the eye contact and clears his throat.

He fiddles with his earring and says, “The food is really good!”

Pink dots his cheeks as he attempts to change the subject. “I don’t know how long the place has been around for but the food is exactly the same. Apparently it’s the sauce they use? Auntie still won’t share the recipes with me and I’ve known her since I was a kid.”

He chatters on, gaining confidence when he notices you’re not put off or bored by his numerous anecdotes. As time passes by, he’s visibly more relaxed. His laugh is more natural, less restrained, like he’s using all the muscles in his face and not just the ones near his mouth.

It’s a stark difference from the first date, you think. Back then he had come off as quite shy, preferring to let you lead the conversation, only offering up tidbits from time to time. Now the conversation flows easily. Nothing feels forced or awkward and - it’s nice. The normalcy of it. Like a hot cup of tea before bed or the scent of the fabric softener your mother uses. It’s something you find comfort in, that you can see yourself coming back to and not growing tired of.

Seokjin can say what he wants - that Jimin’s too uninteresting, that you’re too mismatched of a couple - whatever.

Jimin likes you for you.

When you’re out on dates or when the two of you talk on the phone late into the evening, he rarely brings up your job. Instead, he asks you questions about your favorite TV shows, your dipping sauce preferences, the first album you purchased. These small details might seem inconsequential to others but to you, they’re a welcome breath of fresh air.

For all the talks of Jimin being too average and too normal, men like him are in reality surprisingly hard to come by.

Because what you haven’t failed to notice since you began your career as a porn star is that people love the idea of you. People who avidly watch you from their laptop screen in the comfort of their own home think that you’re some type of sex goddess - that you’re basically up for anything. In their minds, you’re a fun girl who loves sex, all kinds of sex, any kind of sex, and who doesn’t have any qualities or attributes other than making people cum until their limbs go numb.

Your feelings? Not really important. Feelings would make you human and being human would ruin their favorite fantasy.

That’s what takes you a while to learn - you don’t get paid to have sex, you get paid to sell dreams.

It doesn’t bother you at first. In a way, you think, it’s like acting. The porn star people jerk off to daily is a character you play, a mask you can take off at your leisure once the camera director yells ‘cut!’.

Very quickly, you learn people don’t share the same sentiment. To them, the line that distinguishes you from your job persona isn’t blurry - it simply doesn’t exist.

In the beginning, you’d stayed optimistic. Once people get to know you past the image they’ve built up in their heads, surely they’ll realize you’re not a sex-craved addict who only has dick on the brain, right? But with every new date you accept to go on, the reality of your situation only leaves room for disappointment and barely reigned in revulsion.

Even in non-romantic situations, people let you down. Old classmates, neighbors... It pisses you off that they assume you have no self-worth just because you’re a sex worker. Stevie from 308 down the hall once tried throwing crumpled bills at you, expecting you to crawl over to him for a fifty. The memory is enough to set your blood boiling. You can’t wait until you earn big enough bucks to move out of your shitty apartment into a nice high-rise penthouse, away and above all the scum of the Earth.

“You okay?” asks Jimin, noticing the crease that burrows your brow. “The food alright?”

You blink several times, belatedly realizing you had zoned out. Guilt and embarrassment well up within you.

“M’yeah,” you swallow down the spoonful of stew stuffed in your mouth. “Sorry.”

Jimin chews his bottom lip. Finally, he settles with, “Tell me if I’m boring you.”

“No, no! You’re not.” His evident doubt does nothing to alleviate the sudden nausea swarming your lower belly. “I’m serious, Jimin. I’m - Sorry if I gave off that impression. I just - I have a lot on my mind but you’re lovely. I’d tell you if you were - you know. Promise.”

“Would you? Sometimes I think you’re too nice.” It’s not delivered as an insult, but it doesn’t exactly sound like praise, either.

You force out a snort. “Heh. Wish you’d tell Seokjin that.”

“He’s not too cross with me, is he?” Jimin’s expression looks awkward, like he’s forcing his facial muscles to stay relaxed and mien nonchalant.

“Wh- oh, you mean because of earlier? He isn’t. That’s not him being angry. It’s not even you. It’s me. We just have - a slight difference in opinions, I suppose. If you can even call it that.”

“He doesn’t want you to date me,” concludes Jimin.

The frustrations you’d repressed earlier in the day come back. Why does Seokjin’s opinion matter? You huff, putting your spoon down.

“He’s not my dad. And even if he was, I’m grown. I can make my own decisions.” You roll your eyes. “Don’t worry about him. He’ll get over it... It’s not like it’s any of his business in the first place.”

“Still...” Jimin says, unsure. “He’s your agent. I wouldn’t want the relation between you to sour because of me.”

“Honestly, I’m convinced it’s not even you he has a problem with. We talked about it today and I think he’s getting antsy because, um, you know, I haven’t accepted any big offers lately. Like, I’m staying too much in my comfort zone or something. He says that in the long run that can be detrimental to my career.”

It’s a bit strange, discussing your work with Jimin. You both work in the same industry, Jimin as a second camera assistant and you as an adult entertainer, but outside of filming sets, you rarely acknowledge what the other person does for a living.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. He wants me to branch out and try new things.”

“What, you mean anal? Gangbangs?”

“Um, yeah. All that, probably...” You have to blink several times because of the shock of hearing Jimin say that so casually. “...Is that okay?”

“Huh?” Jimin in turn blinks at you, like your question doesn’t properly register. “Oh, yeah, sure. I’m fine with it. You said it’ll be good for your career?”

“Apparently.”

“Then, yeah.” He shrugs like he isn’t bothered by the news at all. “Of course that’s okay.”

A part of you wants to push the issue, ask him why he’d be fine with his girlfriend filming intense sex scenes with random men, but that inner voice is snuffed out before the poisonous thought has time to take root.

Isn’t this what you always wanted? A boyfriend who is accepting and understanding of your profession?

You wash down your worries with a gulp or two of soju, determined not to let your own insecurities ruin the rest of your night.

Less than 24 hours after you’ve agreed to work on a worthwhile project of Seokjin’s choosing, a slew of texts blow up your phone.

Unsurprisingly, it’s your agent. A quick scroll through your phone reveals that your agent has left you with no less than 15 messages, 1 voicemail, and 3 e-mails.

It’s...a lot. You’ve grown to expect that kind of fanfare with him. Like any man who deals with legally binding contracts on a daily basis, Seokjin ensures that you keep your word. He can be extremely persuasive when he sets his mind to it. You’ve seen men and women alike succumb to the force of his magnetism. Back when your filmography had solely consisted of amateur sex tapes shot in bad lighting with low-grade filming equipment, Seokjin's charms alone had been sufficient to win over lukewarm casting directors and book you jobs.

SEOKJIN : hey!!!!!!!!

SEOKJIN : ???

SEOKJIN : wow. you’re leaving me on read.........the audacity.

SEOKJIN : i raised you on my back and this is how you repay me?

SEOKJIN : do you not respect your elders in your household?

SEOKJIN : i swear if you’re blowing me off for jimmy instead of answering your calls .........

SEOKJIN : or blowing jimmy. either one.

SEOKJIN : ok it’s been 10 min. i’m chill but not that chill.

SEOKJIN : can you please stop sucking dick and read your emails. it’s important.

YOU : ever heard of multitasking? god gave us two hands for a reason

SEOKJIN : oh. nasty.

SEOKJIN : way to ruin my lunch.

SEOKJIN : well. suck down that nut sauce asap

SEOKJIN : cos what i sent you needs your undivided attention

YOU : i’m nasty?? me????

YOU : you don’t hear me saying nUT SAUCE you freak

SEOKJIN : nutté sauce

SEOKJIN : there. fixed it.

YOU : ...that’s not even a thing

SEOKJIN : well it should be!

SEOKJIN : adding accents makes it instantly classier, don’t you think? nutté sauce. has a nice ring to it.

SEOKJIN : honestly. sounds like some fancy four star french starter now.

YOU : ???? it absolutely doesn’t but ok

SEOKJIN : imagine. during a scene you just yell out

SEOKJIN : “i’d like a serving of your nutté sauce to go”

YOU : dicks would shrivel up on the spot

SEOKJIN : what? i think it’s brilliant!

SEOKJIN : my talent is wasted as an agent. should’ve been a scriptwriter instead.

YOU : yes i’m sure the oscars are weeping over the missed opportunity

He takes your sarcasm at face value, feeding you more ridiculous variants of faux french cum lingo—that which you very wisely choose not to reply to. Instead of humoring him, you open the .pdf file he’s sent your way, ignoring the near-constant buzzing of your phone as he’s no doubt pestering you for an immediate answer.

Had it not been necessary for business, you’d have blocked his number ages ago. In fact, after that nut sauce comment you’re seriously reconsidering, business obligations be damned.

To his credit, the film project he suggests you work on doesn't sound half-bad despite its questionable title. Why anyone would choose to name it THE SPERMINATOR is beyond you.

As you read through the proposition, you’re surprised to find it’s tamer than the initial imaginary scenario you’d played out in your head. Expecting to read through a long list of unnameable kinks and dicks, the scene description is rather domestic all things considered.

Your shoulders sag in relief. You enjoy sex as much as the next person, but even you have limits you’re not willing or eager to cross. You’re a human being, first and foremost, and, contrary to popular belief, not competing in the sex olympics.

From what you’ve read so far, nothing in Seokjin’s offer seems too strenuous or perverse. The scene in question is centered around a young, newly married couple trying to conceive for the first time and the sex acts are described as “romantic insemination” - whatever the fuck that means. The only complication you can think of is that you’ve never played the part of a married couple before. None of your previous films specifically target couples or women. Is romance something you can sell accordingly?

You’re quick to shake the concern off once you remember that no one cares if your acting is shit or not. All you probably have to do is yell out ‘Daddy’ a few times mid-thrust and call it a day.

Honestly, you’re a bit disappointed in Seokjin for choosing such a safe, no-risk project - especially since he constantly advocates the risk-return trade off as the way to live by. But you’re not about to start complaining. You’d rather shoot this type of innocuous scenario than ridiculous, hentai-like scenes involving freakish get-ups and toys of monster proportions not realistically made to fit in a vagina.

The deal is perfect. Almost too perfect.

Subconsciously, you must realize something is wrong. Maybe Seokjin’s many lessons have finally rubbed off on you because there’s a persistent voice in your ear warning you that the film proposition is a trap, one that you’ve unfortunately walked straight into.

Your wariness increases when he refuses to send you the script upon request. Alarm bells ring off but by then it’s too late.

“The thing is... Director Ryu wants to try a new type of project," Seokjin says over the phone once you call him up for answers. "He thinks he’s going to pioneer a new genre of porn and revolutionize the industry - his words, not mine.”

“What the hell does that even mean?”

“How do I explain this without you getting the wrong idea..."

“Is this meant to reassure me?!” Dread drips from your tone. You should’ve suspected something was off from the very moment Seokjin suggested to shoot vanilla porn as your next big project. What a joke.

“Calm down, it's not as bad as - whatever you're thinking.” Too bad that his attempts to calm you down have the opposite effect. “He’s been wanting to try out a new improvisation format for his porn movies.”

“Come again?”

A beat of uncomfortable quiet passes. Reluctantly, Seokjin explains, “Which means - there isn’t an actual script to go off of. That’s why I couldn’t send it to you - because there is none. He wants it to be as realistic and natural as possible so he’s looking for actors who can go with their gut and create their own scenario instead of ones who need to be directed.”

Your resounding silence speaks for itself.

Sure, sometimes they provide scripts to act as guidelines, roughly giving the actor an idea of how the scene will unfold, but no one is expected to follow it word for word. Most porn films rely on improvisation rather than scripts because of how notoriously bad porn stars are at acting and memorizing more than a few lines at a time, and the introduction scene never lasts very long anyway for it to make a noticeable difference. Besides, after filming a handful of movies, you’ve noticed the dialogue is more or less all the same.

What bothers you is that this director wants you to carry out a movie that relies heavily on improvised dialogue. Convincingly.

“C’mon,” Seokjin tries when you refuse to deign him with an answer. “It’ll be fun. You like acting, right?”

“Seokjin...” You pinch the bridge of your nose and try to keep your composure in check. “How do I break this down for you? I think you’re forgetting the most crucial detail here - I can’t act! The closest I've ever gotten to acting is faking an orgasm and I’m pretty certain that doesn’t count."

“And you do that very well!" says Seokjin encouragingly. "You'll be fine. Don’t stress over it. Your scenes with Min Yoongi last time were perfectly acceptable!”

“That’s the thing.” Stress makes your voice raise a half-step. “He did, like, 90% of the acting! Back then, all I had to do was moan and act like a slut! Which hardly counts - I was being myself. Whatever this - thing - you’re attempting to rope me into - I’m not qualified for it.”

“Sweetheart, we’re not aiming for the fucking Oscars here.” When he laughs, it’s practiced enough to sound sincere. “At the end of the day, it’s still porn. Nobody’s expecting you to be the next Meryl. And besides,” he presses on, clearly refusing to change his mind. “This is exactly what you need right now. Something fresh, something new. If you pull this off, you’ll gain exposure.”

“If I pull it off. Big if."

“I know it sounds like a gamble. I get it, I do. But remember what I always say? High risk—”

“Yes, yes. High reward. I get it.” Your frown deepens. “There’s no way to know this will work, though.”

“A good co-star already guarantees you half of the success. And luckily for you, the guy they signed on seems like the real deal. He’s hot, you’re hot. People will pay money to see you two fuck regardless of how good or bad the acting is.”

“Well. That’s reassuring,” you say, voice as flat as a board. “Although I suppose watching porn on mute is always an option if it comes to that.”

“It was a joke!” What worries you is that it doesn’t sound like it is. “You have nothing to worry about. I’ve seen some of your co-star’s tapes. He’s got a mouth on him, if you know what I mean. Just let him lead and it’ll go swimmingly.”

“It’s one thing to follow someone’s lead during sex but you want me to - to improvise for God knows how long! That’s just asking for a disaster to happen.”

“You said you were up for a challenge!” Seokjin throws your words back at you, his tone accusing.

“And you said this would be beneficial for my career! How is making a fool out of myself going to help me any? I don’t want to be remembered as the girl who can’t act to save her life.” You want to cry in frustration. If you had wanted to act you would’ve chosen that as your major in college. “I don’t - I can’t do this. I’m not - this isn’t what I signed up for! How do you expect me to convince viewers what they’re watching is real...”

“Just—” Exasperated, he takes a deep breath. Exhales. “Trust me. When have I ever been wrong about film projects.”

Is putting your career at risk really worth it? You’re not sure anymore.

On the bright side, it’ll finally get Seokjin off your back, you reason, trying to remain positive. That in itself is worth celebrating, right?

Fine. You’ll agree to it out of pettiness. Once Seokjin realizes what a terrible idea this entire ordeal is, you won’t hesitate to rub it back in his face. He’ll never hear the end of it.

"Who am I working with, anyway?”

"Ah, hm, well." Hesitation creeps up his voice for the first time, putting you instantly on edge. "...You won't know him. He's new to the scene - got started a month or two ago, I forget."

"Great. Not only am I being used as a lab rat for this director to experiment on but you're also pairing me with a fucking rookie. Jesus.”

"He’s not half bad! He’s not bad at all, actually. I wouldn't be insisting if I didn't trust him not to blow his load early."

"Aren’t I lucky,” you deadpan. “So I don't have to worry about him busting a nut before the director gives the signal?"

“All you’ll have to do is act like a married couple with baby fever,” he talks over you, ignoring your overflowing sarcasm. “And how hard can that be? You’ve been loved up with Jumin for a month now - that’s plenty enough practice if you ask me. I know you’ll be able to sell that romantic shit to the public without too much trouble.”

“It’s Jimin,” you correct from force of habit.

You’re promptly ignored — not that you expected anything less from him.

"Just give it a thought? And get back to me when you make up your mind. The sooner the better. The offer won't stay on the table forever." Even over the line, you can picture Seokjin raising his eyebrows at you, expectant. “If you’re serious about this job, you know what you have to do.”

You both know that you’ll accept the offer. Seokjin’s got you all figured out. As much as you don’t like being pushed around, the need to prove yourself is your main driving factor. The acquaintances who sneer at you, the family members who’ve shun you, the peers who expect you to burn out after the five month mark—you’d rather roll over and die than prove their misconceptions right.

It’s a matter of pride when you sniff and reply, “I’ll think about it.”

But the decision is already made before the call ends.

SCENE 02 - THE SPERMINATOR. TAKE 02. ROLL B.

Eight days later you find yourself squeezed into a brazenly short dress that zips in the front, more fit for a night out in a club than a dinner at home. It’s so ridiculously tight, you feel like a prey being swallowed down by a snake. There’s no room to breathe. You can’t wait for the scene to start, if only so you can dispose of the piece of fabric and never wear it again.

Unfortunately, your outfit gets worse because thrown over the clubbing attire is a frilly apron with small hearts embroidered along the hem. The mismatch is jarring. You’re not sure what look the stylist is going for but the end result is very...peculiar.

You comfort yourself with the knowledge that it could always be worse.

A quick glance at the digital clock on your phone confirms that you’re running on time. Good. After your last gig, the last thing you want is to spend hours waiting for the personnel to set up the cameras and sound equipment correctly.

Thankfully, today’s team works like a well-oiled machine. All that’s left are the last-minute preparations before the shoot begins.

Your false eyelashes are still drying when Seokjin elbows you sharply in the ribs. You crack open an eye to glare at him. “Ouch - ah, seriously? What is it now?”

“That’s him, that’s him!” Seokjin whispers under his breath, his gaze glued to a point somewhere beyond your shoulder. “Wooow. Aren’t you a lucky bitch? I’d gargle his nutté sauce for breakfast, if you get what I mean. He looks way better in person, damn.”

“Firstly - please never say that out loud again.” You fake a gag. “How do I buy myself a new set of ears?”

Seokjin ignores your dramatics. He shoots you a look. “You let that last guy draw a starfish on your face with his crème de la nut but did you hear me go sick?”

“That’s not the same and you know it!” Your jaw drops in indignation. “And can you stop trying to make nut cream a thing for the love of—”

“What’s this about nut cream?”

You whip your head around, mortification already etched onto your features. Your mouth opens, defense at the ready, only for your throat to clamp up.

“Oh.” You blink up in surprise because - well, Seokjin’s earlier assessment isn’t embellished. The guy is fit as fuck.

You’d seen photos in passing, had even googled his name out of curiosity, but the two-dimensional version of him pales to his real life physique. There’s a sharpness to his features that the camera fails to pick up on, a vibrancy that gets lost in the medium.

“Hey. I’m Hoseok.” His grip is firm, assertive, and your eyes naturally wander over his form. The loose muscle tee he’s thrown on puts his toned arms on display and makes it easier to admire the seemingly endless expanse of sun-kissed skin. He’s neither too thick nor too spindly, his muscles lean and firm instead of bulging. Strong but not intimidating. “I look forward to working with you.”

“Likewise.” You swallow, mouth dry.

You expect him to leave it at that like most of your past co-stars usually do. Or worse - for him to abandon all pretenses and cross lines that aren’t meant to be crossed. As someone who has experienced it all - from standoffish to creepy and vile - nothing surprises you anymore.

But unlike your, admittedly low, expectations, his gaze is warm and friendly. He speaks smoothly, leaving no time for an awkward silence to instill itself.

“Yeah, I know who you are! I saw a video or two of yours before - you were featured on the agency’s main page last month, right? Fuckin’ genius, by the way. Best stuff I’ve seen in a long ass time.” An easy grin sits on his face, nothing about it fake or contrived. “I hope we get along today. I haven’t done much work myself - yet anyway - but I hope this can be a good experience for the both of us.”

“You’ll be in good hands,” Seokjin assures, patting your shoulder like a proud parent. “_____ here is the best talent I’ve signed on.”

“That I can believe,” Hoseok chimes, his smile never waning. “I’ve heard good stuff about you. I won’t lie - it reassured me a fuck ton when I heard I’d be working with you. The stuff we’re doing is, well, it’s a bit of a gamble at this point, but I’m sure it’ll go well because I’ll be working with you.”

For a brief, embarrassing moment, you’re robbed of words, unable to respond to his flattery. From experience, you know to be wary of guys like him. Whenever someone lays it on thick they always have an ulterior motive. But what could possibly be his?

“Seokjin’s saying that because I’m the only one who can stand his nagging,” you finally say, your shoulders stiff. Maybe it’s because you’ve just met, but it’s hard to figure him out and it doesn’t help that you’re naturally wary of strangers.

“Oh hush. You love me.” Sensing how guarded you’ve become, Seokjin mercifully offers you an out. “It was nice meeting you, Hoseok. Wish we could stay and chat but she has to get ready to film the pre-interview portion.”

“Oh yeah, that’s cool. Catch you later.”

You offer a quick smile he returns tenfold, its brightness momentarily dazzling you.

Slightly dazed from the intensity of it, you stagger behind Seokjin, sun spots dotting your vision. Your surroundings blur together as your mind tries to recover from the interaction.

“Sooooooooo?” Seokjin sing-songs once you’ve walked far enough to be out of earshot. His brows are raised knowingly, an infuriating type of smugness clinging to his features. “What did I tell you! He’s hot enough to single-highhandedly melt a glacier, huh?”

You scoff, not willing to admit anything. “He’s okay.”

“Oh c’mon. He’s baby daddy material for sure. Which works out well for you since he’s gonna pump one into you later.”

For once the grimace that crosses your face isn’t exaggerated. “Please. Stop. Talking. I’m this close to heaving out my lunch.”

You’re not even joking with that one. Attractive as Hoseok may be, any talk of baby-making is enough to dissipate any smidgens of lust.

The reminder of what the upcoming scene entails and the expectations people carry crash down on you like a pile of bricks. Although you’ve done your best to ignore the fact you’ll be acting today, the meeting with Hoseok yanks you harshly back to reality.

You’re going to act. As a married couple. Trying to conceive a baby.

Three things that have never, ever been on your bucket list are now about to be crossed out in the span of the same afternoon. To that you can only say - what the fuck is my life.

Like a mounting wave before the inevitable crash, panic crests within you. You feel it gradually build and build, flooding your lungs and every crevice of your body with overwhelming anxiety.

Seokjin sighs. “How are you going to make it through today? The whole point of the sex scene is to get you pregnant. Or fake pregnant. You know what I mean.”

“Um...” You try to laugh but it comes out shaky. Seokjin shoots you a concerned look. “I’ll be fine! Really! I can do it. It’s just acting like you said, right? It’s not like he’s actually gonna knock me up in real life. So. Totally fine. It’s fine. Perfect.”

Seokjin’s concern grows. His eyebrows pinch together and his expression turns serious. He asks with no trace of mockery, “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay!” you reply. It’s too rushed of an answer to convince him. Your palms feel clammy and you wipe them off your damned apron. “Just. Nervous. Y’know.”

His steps slow to a halt and he places a warm, heavy hand on your shoulder. The weight, familiar and comforting, grounds you to reality. “Hey. What’s there to be nervous about? You got this.”

“Yeah.” You nod. Maybe if you say it enough times you’ll trick yourself into believing it. “I’ve got this.”

“Look. Let me be honest for a second. I’ve been an agent for eight years now and I’ve seen a lot of talents come and go. No pun intended.” You smile back at him weakly. “You’ve got something...extra a lot of them lacked. I knew the moment I saw you on film you’d go far. The energy you bring onscreen is insane. I know today might seem new and strange - but so was your first ever professionally shot film, right? And you got through that fine. You’ll do great. I know it. And, not to toot my own horn, but I’m always right.”

That earns him a laugh. The nerves are still there but thanks to his pep talk it’s easier to breathe.

Despite being a big pain in the ass, Seokjin is exemplary at his job. Without him, you’re acutely aware you wouldn’t have gotten half as far as you have. Having him by your side is a reassurance in itself.

Someone calls your name, pulling you from your thoughts. When you turn around, you’re face to face with the round, bespectacled face of Director Ryu. You reckon he’s in his early forties but he acts younger than his age. It’s your first time working with him but so far he’s been nice enough, if a little full of himself. Not that you’re unaccustomed with working alongside conceited colleagues.

“Oh good, you’re back. You can get seated for the interview bit.” He points over to a chair placed in front of a pale yellow wall. From close up, you can see a paint job is in order, the old coat chipping off in several places. “Alright, this won’t last long - just need you to answer some questions on tape and we’ll be good to go.”

“Sure thing.” You nod and follow his directions, sitting still while the hair and make-up artist steps up to give your lips a final touch-up.

Strictly speaking, the before and after interviews aren’t a necessity. In your experience, directors mostly film the short question-and-answer sequence when you’re set to film hardcore sex scenes as a way to show viewers everything is consensual and that you thoroughly enjoyed the experience despite whatever might have transpired on screen.

You reckon the director wants to film you today to document the process behind his “groundbreaking film project”. Cue roll of eyes.

Somebody needs to tell him he isn’t inventing anything, you think while watching him fiddle with the camera until he’s completely satisfied with the angle. All he’s done so far is add unnecessary pressure on you. You hope Hoseok is faring better because the amount of performance anxiety you’re experiencing is an instant boner killer.

“You nervous?” the director asks once he’s done adjusting the camera lens.

While by some standards you’re still considered a newbie in the industry, you’ve done this enough times to fall into a routine. Wake-up, breakfast, get ready, arrive before call time, fill out all the paperwork and get ready to shoot your solo stills. It’s familiar enough that you’ve long stopped getting pre-performance jitters.

Today’s rush of anxiety is as surprising as it is unwelcome. They don’t want to hear that particular truth though, so you keep your reply sweet and bubbly.

“Nah,” you grin, wide and easy. “I’m super excited to film today!”

“Oh yeah? Is it perhaps because of your co-star?”

Your smile freezes for a second. Somewhere over the director’s shoulder you can see Seokjin nodding enthusiastically while giving you the double thumbs up. “Hoseok? He’s hot, sure.”

“Ooh. Already on a first name basis?”

“Hm?” you let out a noise of polite confusion, only belatedly realizing that his viewers know him better as his porn alias, J-Hope. But there’s no way in hell you’re going to yell that out loud while he’s fucking an orgasm out of you. Not only does it sound ridiculous but it’ll shatter whatever carefully crafted illusion you manage to build. “Um, yes. We’re getting to know each other. He’s very friendly.”

“I’m sure he is.” And there’s an implication there that doesn’t sit too well with you but thankfully Director Ryu chooses to move on and put that particular subject to rest.

“You ever shoot an insemination scene before?”

“Not yet.” You make sure to keep the smile on your face even if your cheeks are beginning to hurt. “I can’t wait to get to it. It’s a fantasy I’ve always had but never tried out for myself. I’m excited to film a first on camera!”

The director has yet to call you out for your bullshit so you slowly start to relax. Acting is a bit like lying, isn’t it? Maybe you can get through today after all.

You breeze through the rest of the questions, forcing out practiced laughs here and there all whilst keeping your voice syrupy sweet. It’s quick work, especially when you know what to expect. Before you know it, it’s already time to film the pièce de résistance. Everyone that’s allowed on set during filming filters into the kitchen, conversations between crew members dying down as they use their last recreational moments to check their phones.

The director’s filming style exempts you from shooting the customary pre-shoot sex stills which are essentially promotional pictures of you and and your partner in every sex position that you’ll be filming for real later on. You’re thankful for that, at least. Even with all of your on-camera experience, staying perfectly silent and still with someone’s dick inside you is no easy feat. It’s worse when you have to keep eye contact with your co-star and fake sexual gratification because the shot calls for it.

Hoseok waves at you from the other side of the room, the hair and makeup artist dusting some powder across the slope of his nose.

How can he look so relaxed?! You’re barely holding your lunch down. Honestly, it’s a miracle you’re able to now tat the butterflies are back in full force, making a mess of your stomach.

You feel queasy but try not to make it too obvious even as Seokjin comes around to check up on you. The last thing you want to do is make a scene, especially when your onscreen counterpart's demeanor is making you look amateurish in comparison.

Maybe Hoseok is a better actor than you’re able to give most porn stars credit for because try as you might, you fail to detect any nervous undercurrent in his tone. For someone who is supposedly starring in his first major project, he doesn’t seem all too bothered about how it might play out.

How does he do it?! In all honesty, if Seokjin hadn’t informed you of his rookie status, you would be none the wiser.

There’s an ease with which he carries himself, a fluidity in his movements that belies no anxiety or awkwardness. Even from this distance you can tell that there’s never a hint of hesitation in his movements or speech; he doesn’t seem self-conscious in the least. He talks and moves with the assurance of someone who has been in the industry for months, not weeks.

In that moment you envy him. You’re so nervous about the upcoming scene that it’s hard to feign an air of professional detachment.

His boisterous laugh is loud enough to carry across the room and interrupt your line of thought. When you look over at him again, you find him folded in half, hands clutching his sides, and wearing a grin so bright it eclipses the entirety of his face.

“He seems nice.”

You jump, startled by Jimin’s sudden appearance. You hadn’t even heard him draw near. With a sheepish expression, you turn to look up at him only to find him already staring off into the distance. There’s a strange look painting his face, and a small crease in his brow that usually isn’t present. When you follow his line of sight, you’re met with the image of Hoseok talking animatedly to the the small crowd that’s flocked around him.

“Yeah.” You aren’t sure what else to say. Although there’s no sarcasm attached to his words, you can’t help but find Jimin unnaturally tense.

Which makes sense, you concede guiltily. A mere stranger is minutes away from dicking down his girlfriend. You’re not sure how you’d feel if you were to stand in his shoes.

You breathe in deep, silently willing away the knot of distress in your belly. There’s nothing wrong with what you’re doing. It’s just a job. A profession that Jimin has always been fully aware of, even before you’d begun dating.

Even as you remind yourself of the facts, it does little to dispel the lingering feelings of doubt and guilt.

“Hey.” Jimin frowns at you in concern. “You alright?”

“Yep!” you say then immediately sigh, knowing that lying to your boyfriend is pointless. “I’m just a bit nervous.”

“Nervous?” Jimin’s worry grows, the crease in his brow deepening. “What about?”

“Just—” You gesture around with your hands. “All of this.”

“Oh.” He looks genuinely surprised. “But you don’t usually get nervous... Is it the impregnation thing you’ll have to do? I know you’ve said you’re not a big fan of that. Or... Is it something else?”

“I don’t know,” you answer truthfully. It’s a bit of everything yet at the same time nothing you can clearly pinpoint and put a finger on. In all logic, you know that you’re feeling disproportionately stressed out but you can’t stop yourself from feeling how you feel. “It’s not that I don’t want to film. I just - I’m worried I won’t do well.”

Jimin takes your hand between his, running a thumb in soothing circles across the surface of your skin. He repeats the motion several times until your heartbeat is completely synced to his touch.

“You’ll do great. You always do.” The lines of his mouth bend into a smile. “I’ll be on the sidelines cheering you on.”

“My very own cheerleader.” You allow yourself to relax and and smile back fondly.

As much as you worry about Jimin being upset with you filming sex scenes with other actors, he’s never been anything less than the supporting boyfriend you’ve always dreamed of. Seokjin calls Jimin’s constant presence on set maddening, but you’re thankful that your boyfriend sticks by your side while others might flee or shame you.

Suddenly, you’re overcome with emotion. Maybe it’s the stress, or maybe today you’re more hormonal than usual, but your eyes threaten to well up as you grip his palm tightly in your own. “Jimin, I—”

“Okay, lovebirds!” Seokjin claps his hands once, effectively ruining your moment. “Hand-holding time is over. We’re moving onto the more R-rated stuff.”

“Seokjin!” you hiss, upset over his horrible timing.

“It’s fine.” Jimin shakes his head. “He’s right, shoot’s about to start anytime soon. I need to get ready, too.”

“Right.”

Reluctantly, you let go of Jimin’s hand.

“Don’t pout.” He laughs and presses a quick, chaste kiss to your mouth. “I’ll wait for you after filming and we can go grab dinner. Italian sound fine?”

“Yes, yes, yes.” You bob your head eagerly. “I’m literally dying for carbs. Italian sounds more than perfect.”

“Good.”

You can’t resist sneaking in one last peck before Jimin retreats behind the cameras and you’re pulled to stand in front of a granite kitchen tabletop. Director Ryu is waiting for you, Hoseok already by his side.

From close-up, your co-star looks even more striking. The make-up artist’s work highlights his features without going overboard. The lines of his face are sharp, like every single one has been meticulously drawn. What usually would give someone a hostile and unapproachable impression is balanced out by the liveliness that lights up his eyes and his wide smile that looks almost too big for his face.

“It’ll start in the kitchen and then we’ll work out way to the bedroom.” Director Ryu points down the hallway. “I was thinking of keeping it all in the bedroom but nothing screams domesticity more than kitchen scenes, right?”

“Uh-huh.” You give a polite nod. Next to you, Hoseok coughs into his fist.

“Depending on how this goes we might have to take several takes - just keep that in mind.”

That’s nothing out of the ordinary. Sex scenes are never filmed in one take. There’s always one thing or another - a smoke break, a flaccid dick, a lighting fixture that needs to be changed. A 45 minute porn movie is the result of the editing team that painstakingly goes through, cuts and assembles hours of footage.

“Remember,” Director Ryu instructs, one hand cocked on his hips. “You’re still stuck in that honeymoon phase. All the two of you want to do is fuck like horny bunnies but your husband’s been away all day. Both of you have been waiting for this reunion for hours and hours. I want to feel that level of tension, got it?”

Hoseok nods like a dutiful student, his expression comically serious. You’d laugh if it wasn’t so inappropriate.

“Yep. Ok. Got it.”

You just want the director to stop talking so that you can get this over with quickly. The monologue is just delaying the inevitable.

Director Ryu spends extra minutes setting up the scene, emphasizing how in love and passionate the two of you should behave, describing how long you’ve been wanting to try for a baby, going into explicit detail about what the sex scenes should convey to the viewers. He just goes on and on and on with no end it sight.

At this point even Hoseok is growing restless. His feet refuse to stay still and his eyes dart around the room as if his attention is drawn elsewhere. It’s Hoseok’s constant fidgeting that draws Director Ryu out of his monologue. He finally senses that there’s a unanimous decision to start filming and retires behind the camera to settle himself in his appointed chair.

Hoseok shares a long look with you. “Is he always like that?”

“God, I hope not.” You lower your voice to whisper, “Seokjin - my agent - he says apparently Director Ryu wanted to make a career off of documentaries once he graduated from film school but quickly switched genres once he saw how little filming the mating habits of koalas was earning him.”

“Ah,” Hoseok nods conspiratorially before his features shift into something more serious. “Hey. Before we start, is there anything you’re not comfortable with? I know this scene is supposed to lean towards vanilla but you never know... I’d rather make sure. Just in case.”

You blink, taken aback. Hard limits aren’t really discussed outside of hardcore scenes. Sure, everyone is given a safeword before shoots begin but even screaming out “STOP!” or “Can we take a break from filming?” is enough to put the filmed scene on hold.

“Ah... No. I’m okay. But thanks for asking.” A moment passes and you add, “Is there - are there any words or kinks that bother you?”

Hoseok shakes his head. “Not for this one. Just - if there’s anything you’d rather me not say or do, don’t hesitate.”

You nod in reply, not sure of what else to say. Unfortunately your past experiences with men have made you suspicious of any form of flattery or kindness.

Soon, though, you relax. What reason is there for Hoseok to deceive you? Maybe he still has that rookie mindset. You can relate to the eagerness and the desire to do well you’d had in your early days of filming.

“Alright. Good luck, Hoseok.”

His smile is so bright that it erases your previous doubts. Surely someone with ill-intentions wouldn’t be able to smile like that, right? You return a tentative smile of your own. Something akin to understanding seems to pass between you. Although you don’t know Hoseok and he doesn’t know you, you trust him enough for this scene.

The moment is broken when Director Ryu directs Hoseok to wait outside the camera’s line of vision and you’re left alone in front of the kitchen stove.

Any moment now, you think. A telltale silence falls over the staff members as they all anticipate the director’s signal for the scene to start.

The first few seconds are always tricky. You’re no actress. There’s no switch inside of you that flips on and off as soon as the director commands “ACTION!” and “CUT!”. The world around you doesn’t fade out, your ‘porn star persona’ doesn’t claw its way out from within you and lunge for the nearest available dick. Sometimes, if you’re not attracted to your onscreen partner, you find your mind drifting off, making an inventory of your fridge and wondering what you’ll be able to cook up for dinner with two eggs and leftover rice.

When Director Ryu shouts “ACTION!” and slams down the plate, you freeze up. Usually you have an idea of what to say or do, but the words and actions won’t come to you this time.

Someone behind the cameras lets out a light cough. Oh right, you blink down at the simmering pot of water in front of you. The cameras are recording you making an utter fool out of yourself.

The spike of humiliation forces you into action. You’re more professional than this, damn it. You give the water a tentative stir, movements wooden and stiff. It’s hard to concentrate. All you can do is watch as the water simmers to a boil, the sound of bubbling water like a roaring current in your ears.

A door creaks open, signalling your onscreen husband’s return home.

To your horror, you find that you’re unable to move, as if your limbs had forgotten their primary function.

Before the scene had started, you had envisioned yourself throwing yourself into the arms of your loving husband and welcoming him home with a shower of kisses and words of affection. You had internally rehearsed it, had even thought of what you could say to him between pecks, but the reality is far removed from what you had practiced.

“Darling?” Hoseok’s voice is soft but loud enough for you to hear him over the angry sounds of boiling water. The vowels he uses are rounded, different from the bright pep in his tone from earlier.

You want to respond but your tongue feels like lead, too heavy in your mouth to articulate and form the proper reply. What are you supposed to call him, anyway? Honey? Hoseok? A nickname derived from his name? What do newlywed spouses call each other? Why couldn’t you give this more thought before the cameras began rolling?

Panic balloons inside you, threatening to burst. For a terrifying and mortifying second, you think that you’ve gone and ruined everything. The muscles in your shoulders bunch up and you half-expect the director to shout ‘CUT!’, give you a public scolding for missing your cue and berate you for your overall ineptitude.

Hoseok’s arms wrap around your middle before you have time to agonize any further. Just as you suspected, his arms are strong, the lean muscles flexing as he readjusts his hold around your waist. What you don’t expect, however, is the unadulterated warmth he radiates. His body burns hot; even through the layers of clothing separating the two of you, his warmth seeps through. But it’s strangely comfortable, not unlike basking in the afternoon sun during the last days of summer. You let yourself melt into his embrace.

“You’re not even going to say hi?”

With your back turned to him, you can’t be sure, but you imagine the pout playing at his lips. He tucks his chin in the crook of your shoulder. If he feels any awkwardness, he doesn’t let it show.

Miraculously, your mouth seems to be in working order again. It takes you a few seconds too long to find the appropriate answer, but it finally comes before the director can cut in to make any remarks.

“If I turn around right now, I won’t be able to keep my hands off of you,” you explain. “And - I don’t want to ruin our dinner.”

Just to keep up the pretense, you add a handful of spaghetti into the pot of water.

Hoseok lets out a hum from behind you. He’s standing close enough for you to feel the vibrations low in his throat.

“I hate it,” he says after a stretch of silence.

You pout. “What? My cooking? What’s wrong with it?”

“No, silly. I hate -” he sighs, buries his face in your neck before looking back up so the camera can capture his expression. “I hate not being with you. I missed this.”

He hugs you from behind before kissing your neck. It starts off innocuous - his lips pressing short, chaste kisses down the column of your throat. Quickly, however, his mouth lingers on your skin.

“Ah - don’t. I’m cooking!” you shriek when his teeth scrape over a sensitive spot under your jaw. Your protests are half-hearted and go by unacknowledged. The pot of pasta could overflow right now and no one would care, least of all you.

Hoseok noses your neck while he tightening his grip around your waist, the movement bringing his hips flush against your lower back. You give the pot in front of you a very unenthusiastic stir, attention focused instead on the way his lips tenderly skim the surface of your skin, testing and teasing. The sensation feels nice - and keeps your mind off of the several cameras directed your way.

“But I went all day missing my princess,” he sighs, open mouthed against your neck. “Spent all day thinking about you.”

“Y-you did?”

“Mhm.” He gives your exposed shoulder a peck. Then another. “Thought about your cute little laugh.”

His line catches you off guard. Your mouth opens but no sound comes out.

Porn is often crude and to the point. You’re used to men complimenting your body parts or praising your skills in bed. You’d never minded, either. But Hoseok’s choice of words make you eager in a different way.

“What else?”

“Well, your cooking, for sure. Without you I’d be eating out of ramyeon packets for breakfast, lunch and dinner.”

You let out a snort.

“That’s true. Your cooking is so horrible it’s offensive.”

“Hey now. Don’t be mean.” He pokes your cheek before pinching your chin to turn your head towards him. “I can cook a decent omelet.”

Hoseok’s a good few inches taller than you so you have to strain your neck to be able to look him in the eyes. The slight discomfort barely registers. You’re too transfixed by the way he stares at you. It’s hard to place the expression because you’ve never seen it on a fellow actor before. Normally, the men you work with stare you down with hungry and lustful intent, but there’s none of that in Hoseok’s gaze.

The expression on his face cannot be described as innocent, either. He licks his lips, drawing your attention to the pretty lines of his mouth delicately curved into a smile.

“I missed the way you feel in my arms.” His voice sounds deeper, this time. “I missed holding you close to me. Kissing you. Reminding you how much I love you. I missed the look in your eyes when - “

“When?”

He smirks. “You sure you want to hear it? What if you can’t keep your hands off of me after? I don’t want to be held responsible for soggy pasta.”

“Hoseok,” you whine, one of your hands reaching down to slap at the hold around your stomach.

He tightens his hold around you and your breath hitches, suddenly all too aware of how firm his body feels behind you. The smirk on his face widens as he leans forward to confess his next words.

“I was thinking about how I miss the look on your face whenever I make your pussy sloppy with my cum.”

“Hoseok!”

One moment he’s crooning sweet words of affection, the next he’s spitting out filth. The quick back-and-forth gives you whiplash but you can’t say you dislike it. Unlike the tired and overused clichéd porn scenarios you’ve filmed in the past, Hoseok’s unpredictable behavior has the advantage of keeping you on your toes.

“You missed it too, hm?” He kisses your neck, lips soft and warm. “Kept thinking about how pretty you sound. So, so pretty. Especially when I give you what you want.”

“How would you know what I want?” You turn your head forwards so you can pretend to check up on the cooking pasta. “You were away all day.”

Hoseok’s eyes flash dangerously.

“How would I know?” he parrots back, his tone sweet and mocking. Something about it sends tingles down your spine and has you standing up straighter. “I always know what my pretty wife wants. I know because your body can’t lie to me.”

His hands wander, one of them inching up the material of your frilly apron to reach between your breasts. The movement is slow enough for a camera to zoom in and follow its trail. Hoseok rests his hand on your left breast and gives it a squeeze.

“See?” He repeats the action. “Your heart’s racing like crazy.”

You swallow audibly, finding it hard to come up with a witty riposte.

He continues with a chuckle, “You can’t deny it, can you? Your body’s too honest for your own good. It’s okay. You don’t have to say you missed me. I know.”

His self-assured way of talking makes it easier for you to react. This - the cockiness, the playfulness - you’re familiar with.

You roll your eyes and continue to give the pot in front of you a few additional stirs only for your breath to hitch when he starts to grind his hips against your lower back in time with your stirs.

Fuck is your only coherent thought. He rolls his hips so well it’s impossible not to imagine them doing something else. Your bottom lip grows numb from how hard you bite it.

“Of course I missed you.” You keep your tone as light as possible, determined not to show that his words and actions affect you.

Hoseok’s eyes narrow. He removes his hands from around you but keeps his front pressed against your back. He smiles again, dimples poking through.

“You don’t sound convinced... That’s fine.” It sounds like the beginning of a challenge and you soon learn why.

His nimble fingers play with the knot of your apron and you tense, expecting him to make quick work of your clothes and dive straight into dessert, so to speak. Once again, he surprises you by leaving the apron alone, hands falling to his sides.

His knees hit the floor, the noise startling you. Before you have the chance to truly react, he’s quick to pull your hips backwards until your back is arched. The sudden change in position forces you to adjust your stance so as to keep your balance.

“Hoseok?” you start to question but he cuts you off with a tut and light smack to your ass.

“You just keep your eye on dinner like you were doing before.” His fingers play with the hem of your short dress, stretching the fabric until it bunches up around your hips and leaves your lacy thong on display. “You can do that, right?”

Flustered by the position he’s maneuvered you into, with your hips thrust back obscenely, legs splayed wide and pussy on show, you grip the wooden spoon in your hand with more force than necessary. “It’s just pasta. I can manage.”

Maybe you sound less indifferent than intended because Hoseok seems more amused than offended by your feinted nonchalance. He barks out a laugh, his hands spreading the meat of your cheeks aside to get a better view of your lace-covered bits.

Privately, you wish you could witness his reaction. If there’s anything that turns you on, it’s knowing how much someone else wants you. If feels good to know that you’re wanted and desired. Even if fucking is part of your job description, the act needs to be mutually enjoyable for you to be completely satisfied.

“Sure.” The lilt in his voice is so sweet that it borders on condescending. “While you do that, I think I’ll have my appetizer.”

It’s corny, overused and a little degrading - exactly the type of one-liner you’d ordinarily find in porn - but he gives you no time to call him out for it. As soon as he’s done talking, he wags his tongue out and drags it across the red lace, and the repeated up and down motions quickly dampen your panties.

You notice with great frustration that he takes care to avoid your clit, focusing instead on licking broad stripes over slit and, to your surprise, around your rim. He doesn’t stop until your underwear drips with the accumulation of your essence and his saliva. The soaked lace rubs against you, the rough texture adding pressure to your most sensitive zones, until you can’t tell if the extra sensation is a blessing or a curse. Your hips jerk forward every so often, unsure if you’d rather lean into or escape his torturous games. Because as amazing as Hoseok’s tongue feels, you know your body well enough to be able to tell that this particular tempo won’t bring you to your peak.

An appetizer, he had called it. That’s exactly what the teasing ministrations feel like - a small sampling before the main course. It’s satisfying and maddening in its own way. Good, but not enough to satisfy your ravenous appetite.

He unearths himself from your dripping core, chin shiny with your juices.

“Keep focus,” he instructs as he slots two fingers inside of you. You’re wet enough that they slide in without too much difficulty, the stretch making your stomach clench. “I thought you said you knew how to cook pasta.”

Against your will, you force yourself to focus on the bubbling water in front of you. As much as you want to push your hips back and ride his fingers until you’re pushed over the edge, you can’t take the humiliation of messing up pasta - even if it is for the sake of a porn scenario.

It’s fucking pasta! You have to be seriously inept to mess up such a simple dish...

But what should have been an effortless task becomes more challenging than expected. Hoseok refuses to go easy on you. If anything, your stubborn silence is all the motivation he needs to thrust his fingers inside of you harder, curving them at an angle that makes your knees wobble. You struggle to keep any incriminating noises at bay but despite your best efforts, several muffled moans slip out one after the other.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, the logical side of you points out how dangerous all of this is. What if, during your impending orgasm, your body seizes up and knocks the boiling water everywhere during the process? You quickly switch off the gas stove at the thought. Better be safe than sorry.

Just then, Hoseok adds his tongue to the mix, his fingers relentless in their pursuit of your pleasure. You bite back a curse as the wooden spoon slips from your hold and clatters to the floor.

“Ah fu - Oh God,” you stutter, hands holding on to the edge of the counter for dear life.

You’ve been eaten out God knows how many times in your life, but not many have instinctively known what really gets you going. Hoseok laps at your core, tongue collecting the moisture that seeps through the fabric of your ruined panties, while his fingers scissor you open for his cock.

Your stomach clenches as you imagine how well he’d fill you up. Who the hell would ever want pasta for dinner when Hoseok could feed you his cock instead? Definitely not you, that’s for sure.

It’s easy to picture it. All he’d need to do is stand up, unzip his pants and spear you open with a practiced roll of his hips. Maybe he’d make you toss a salad while he fucks you from behind, slapping your ass whenever you forget to keep stirring the ingredients together. Or perhaps he’d let you ride his dick on the kitchen floor, too impatient to make it to a more comfortable surface.

Your imagination knows no bounds. Once you start, you can’t stop thinking of more lascivious scenarios, each one more daring and debauched than the last. The heat between your legs becomes unbearable and still, you ache for more.

Hoseok pulls away from the apex of your thighs and snorts, the sound pulling you out of your depraved thoughts. The pace of his thrusting slows down without stopping completely, his fingers still pressed deep within you. Your arms tremble as they try to keep you upright, knuckles white from the strength of your grip around the counter’s edge. You exhale shakily.

A whine works its way into your voice. “Why - why’d you stop?”

Ignoring your protests, he pops his fingers out of you and indulges in one last lick of your swollen pussy, before gathering to his feet. He rolls down your dress back over your bum and peers over your shoulder, acting as nothing had ever happened.

“Thought you said you’d take care of dinner, hm?” Hoseok has the gall to hum in disappointment.

Your mouth opens in outrage. “You!”

Hoseok pouts. “I thought we said you wouldn’t blame me for any soggy pasta.”

“You’re impossible,” you say without any real heat to your words.

“But you love me that way.”

He smiles as he leans in to kiss you, lips sticky and warm. You follow the pace he sets as best you can, unaccustomed to the way he takes his time - like you’re a delicacy that demands to be savored and not gulped down. On-screen kisses are usually rushed, messy, with too much tongue. They’re a scripted affair, more for show than out of real affection. When men tuck back your hair behind your ear or palm your cheek, it’s only to better angle your face for the camera.

There is something intimate about the way he holds you, the way he looks at you. Inwardly, you can't help but admire his acting skills. There’s something tender about the way he handles you that’s distinctly different from any of your previous onscreen partners. Sure, you’ve shot vanilla sex scenes before, but never of this variety. None of the male actors’ performances have made you wish, even fleetingly, foolishly, that the scene was real.

Hoseok pulls up for air before your mind can wander off completely, his panting mouth a hairsbreadth away. Lips touching but not quite.

Blearily, you blink your eyes open. You’re close enough that your noses brush against one another, your breaths mingling together. Hoseok’s eyes remain closed throughout, like he doesn’t want the moment to end. He looks so content that you can’t bring yourself to do anything else but melt further into his embrace, gaze drinking in the minute details of his face - like the tiny moles dotting his cheekbone and upper lip and the pretty curve of his eyes.

“And cut!”

You both jump away from each other, startled. For a second there, the storyline you’d been instructed to follow had slipped from your mind. You’re unsure if the lapse in judgement is good or bad but you don’t let the question linger in your thoughts. You’ll have plenty of time to dissect your performance at a later time.

“Good, good. That wasn’t what I was expecting but I don’t think anyone has any objections?” Director Ryu claps his hands. “Fifteen minute break sound good everyone? Then we’ll relocate to the bedroom to shoot the next part.”

There’s a general hum of agreement from the crew members. Chairs and various other equipment scrape the floor as the personnel prepare to migrate to the other room for filming. Jimin’s gaze meets yours briefly but all he can do is smile weakly in your direction before he’s ordered to help push some of the equipment down the hall.

Someone comes up to you with a bottle of water while another steps closer to blot the beads of sweat near your hairline and reapply a layer of lipstick. The make-up artist knits her brows in concentration until she’s satisfied with the touch-ups. She then moves on to Hoseok, make-up palette and brush at the ready, and grumbles loudly about the sticky residue covering his face. You hear Hoseok bellow a laugh, the sound so infectious that even the make-up artist joins in.

You sip your water through a straw, careful not to smudge your freshly applied lipstick, and check your phone for any missed messages.

“Was all of that okay?”

“Hm?” You look up and are surprised to see Hoseok stare at you expectantly. “I, uh, know some girls aren’t into ass play. I’m sorry. I should’ve asked before jumping the gun but I figured - since you said there wasn’t anything major you were adverse to filming...”

His voice trails off.

“I liked it.” The admission is an easy one. “It did take me by surprise, but - I don’t have any complaints.”

“Ah, really?” Hoseok’s mouth corners upturn in relief. “That’s good to know. I was thinking - for the next scene - what if - I mean, are you okay with calling me Daddy?”

You tilt your head as you mull over the proposition.

“Daddy?”

“It’s not - you don’t have to. But listening to Director Ryu go on earlier made me think of something we could do. I think it fits well with the general idea. What do you think?”

“I’m fine with it.” Using the title doesn’t make you squeamish so you shrug in compliance. It’s not the first you’ve had to incorporate a daddy kink into the scene and it likely won’t be the last. You don’t see why you wouldn’t or shouldn’t do it with Hoseok. “I’ll follow your lead like I’ve been doing.”

It’s only as you’re following him towards the bedroom that you recall that you’ve yet to get to the crux of the scene - the damned impregnation kink. Even though you’re considerably less nervous than you’d been an hour or two ago, the thought of begging someone you barely know for something so intimate makes your stomach flip-flop. You don’t even have unprotected sex with Jimin and he’s your boyfriend.

Speaking of Jimin, you try to sneak in a peck or two before filming but Director Ryu intercepts you before you can make a beeline to where Jimin’s stationed behind a camera.

“How are you feeling?” The overhead light reflects off his round glasses and makes it impossible to hold eye contact unless you want to become semi-permanently blind.

“Good---”

“Wonderful. Well, we’ve positioned cameras here, here, and over there. There’ll be another camera man who’ll film with a handheld camera for closeups. Just keep that in mind. I know we’re giving you free-range to do what you feel is best and most natural but I’d hate to ask you to re-shoot because the camera couldn’t capture the both of you properly.”

You nod and he continues, “Also - please remember that you’re acting as a horny young married couple. I remember at that age I was up for anything, you get what I’m saying? People think just because you put a ring on your finger the sex automatically becomes stale. Fuck that. Show people married couples are freaks in the sheet.”

“Uh... Alright. I’ll keep that in mind.”

He claps a hand over your shoulder. “That’s the spirit.”

Freaks in the sheet? What did he expect you to do? Try out all the sex positions in the Kama Sutra?

“What did he want now?” Hoseok leans over to whisper once you’re seated comfortably on the bed. You’re hoping the mics don’t pick up the conversation but would rather not take the risk of being overheard bad-mouthing the director.

Shrugging, you say, “Just that this scene should be spicier.”

Hoseok raises his brow, lips quirking into a smirk. “That so?”

The same cockiness you’d caught a glimpse of during your escapade in the kitchen is back and the memory you associate it with makes the back of your neck prickle with heat. You clear your throat and avert your eyes.

Thankfully Director Ryu interrupts before Hoseok has the chance to fluster you further. You follow each of the director’s voiced directives until you’re comfortably seated on Hoseok’s lap, dress hitched around your waist because of how far your knees are spread on either side of Hoseok’s thighs. There’s a quick, last minute adjustment as Director Ryu ensures that the camera in the left corner picks up on everything it’s supposed to.

Satisfied, he lets you take the reins from there, then gives the cameras the signal to begin rolling.

You don’t waste a moment, taking his earlier commentary to heart. It’s your turn to pepper kisses all over Hoseok’s golden skin, leaving faint traces of rouge behind like an artist signing their own painting. You stop a few times to admire your work. Lip prints and lavender bite marks color his skin and the sight awakens a possessive streak you didn’t know you had.

Your enthusiasm to mark him up gets a little out of hand.

"Mhm." Hoseok grunts when you lick over a sensitive spot under his jaw. "Slow down, princess. There's no rush. We have all night."

He cups his chin between his hands so you have no choice but to relent and direct your gaze up at him. You’re pleased to see that he’s not completely indifferent to your touch; despite his instructions to take it slow, the smoldering look in his eyes tell a different story.

He runs the pad of his thumb over your lower lip, the pink flesh no doubt swollen. You take the digit in your mouth, unprompted, and run your tongue against its underside, wishing that his cock could fill your mouth instead.

Hoseok makes a noise low in his throat, not quite a growl but close.

"And I intend to take my time with you." The look he levels you with promises a night full of mind-numbing pleasure. Ribbons of heat curl around the base of your spine. "Want to make you feel good."

"You do," you agree, words muffled around the thumb you refuse to let go of.

You take a hold of his wrist and free your mouth, only to quickly replace it with his forefinger and middle finger. The stretch of two digits makes you moan lewdly.

Hoseok’s eyes darken. He lets you play for a few more seconds before he takes back control, his fingers pushing deeper into your mouth until they hit the back of your throat. You swallow down a gag, but his fingers don’t let you rest for long. He drags them over the flat of your tongue, watching as spit dribbles down past the sides of your mouth, and repeats the motion, pumping into your mouth steadily like he would a cock.

As nice as it feels to be filled with his fingers, whether in your cunt or mouth, you’re ready for more. Subconsciously, your hips grind down in his lap, shifting this way and that until you’re perfectly seated over his hardened length.

Drool is pushed out of your mouth as Hoseok squeezes a third fingers in with the other two. You suck harder, hoping that all your efforts will spur Hoseok into finally fucking you. The knowledge that he has to, at one point or another, keeps you from whining and begging pathetically for his cock. You can exercise patience if you put your mind to it; you’re sure of it.

Your on-screen husband decides to test that resolve.

His other hand starts to wander south, his fingers toying with the short hem of your dress that’s been rucked up even higher with all your rocking and grinding. The movement of your hips slow, your brain unable to keep up with the stimuli coming in all directions.

A crack resounds in the room, the sharp sound startling you more than the sting that accompanies it. Hoseok’s palm rubs over the heated area, only inflaming it further.

“And who told you you could stop?”

The second slap is notably harsher than the first, and your hips automatically lurch forward hoping perhaps to lessen the impact of the sting.

You know he doesn’t expect a verbal answer; his second hand keeps your mouth plugged up, making any attempt at talking unintelligible. It doesn’t stop you from trying, only because you know the muffled protest are greatly appreciated amongst viewers. And if the way Hoseok’s digs his fingers into your smarting ass cheek is any indicator, you’re confident that he also enjoys your squirming and messy display.

“Keep moving, princess. I need both your holes nice and wet.”

The way his voice dips an octave makes your stomach twist in arousal. You long to tell him that you’re sufficiently wet enough for him to slide his cock inside right away but all you manage are pitiful garbled words.

He raises an eyebrow at your delayed response and your hips move before he can smack the globes of your ass for a third time. You have an inkling he’ll only hit harder with the intention of leaving marks of his own all over your skin.

It’s a careful balancing act, but you figure it out as you go. Bounce too fast and the fingers in your mouth will make you gag. Move too slowly for his liking and he won’t hesitate to add to the collection of handprints on your ass.

You lose track of how long he makes you play this game. Your mind focuses on sucking while keeping your jaw slack enough to accomadate the width of three digits. Drool pools down your chin, and you’re certain whatever the make-up artist had done to your lips is now ruined. Worse off are your panties. At the stage they’re at now, you’ll have no choice but to throw them out. Hoseok’s pants might need be as unsalveagable as your thong, you think inwardly, judging by the large, dark wet spot you’re currently sitting on.

“Mmh, good girl.”

He gently slides his fingers out, strings of saliva attached. He hums in satisfaction at the lewd sight and rubs his fingers across your swollen lips and shiny chin, spreading the fluids and what’s left of your lipstick over your mouth. You swallow, mouth sore from being used roughly for so long.

“This hole is sufficiently wet, I think,” he appraises, eyelashes fluttering before he casts a long look down your body until it reaches where you’re seated on his clothed erection. “Let’s check this one too.”

The way he smirks at you but makes no move to check himself lets you know that he expects you to do the work.

You let your hands trail down your body slowly, cupping your breasts as you do, enjoying his hooded gaze and the way his cock twitches beneath you a bit too much. When you reach the hem of your dress, you lift your hips up to pull the fabric up to your navel giving an unobstructed view of your lace-covered pussy.

Hoseok stare intensifies but you don’t feel any embarrassment from the scrutiny. “Well you certainly look ripe.”

His fingers toy with the delicate string of lace around your hips. He lets the material snap against your skin a few times before he grows bored or impatient with his own game and gives the lace a harsh yank. It tears easily and the leftover scraps fall into his lap.

“... But just to be sure -” His hands grip your waist and manhandle you onto your hands and knees. Your head spins from how suddenly he’s moved you around to his liking that your arms give out and you fall face first into the clean smelling bed sheets. “Gotta give my favorite hole of yours a better look.”

His hands hoist your hips at a higher angle so that your soaked center is visible for the cameras to pan onto. Hoseok slides in two fingers easily, then a third. Loud, obscene noises echo in the otherwise quiet room, noises that are quickly joined by your unabashed moans of pleasure.

Your core is on fire. Hoseok’s fingers are just as good as you remember them to be. No, better. The three fingers pump into you in measured strokes, the drag slow enough to keep you dangling over the edge without pushing you over.

Hoseok spanks your ass, hissing between his teeth as you clench around his fingers, no doubt imagining your inner walls hugging his cock instead.

“Christ. You’re always such a soft, wet little thing down here,” he croons in dulcet tones. “I could play with you all day.”

You thrust your hips back, shameless.

“Please! Please Daddy, I’ll be so good, I just - please - I nuh, need it. Need your cock fucking me full. I’ll take it so good, you know I will. Want you to - please! Daddy, I need your cum.”

“Shit.”

He fumbles in his haste to flip you onto your back. He crawls over your body, and you watch fascinated as he dives down to kiss you like a man starved. He looks almost feral, pupils so dilated the brown of his eyes is almost gone.

Heat blooms in your stomach as he kisses you deeply. The press of his lips against yours renders you a little less coherent as time ticks on, every brush of his tongue making you a little more dizzy with want.

Everything about him burns. It feels like being kissed by the sun itself. Every caress, every lick and nip leaves you feverish all over, like your drunk off his touch.

"Let me," he says, pinching the zipper of your dress between his thumb and index finger.

You wrap your hand around his and guide his movements. His gaze never leaves yours and it makes shivers run down your back. Even though you're the one controlling his movements for the time being, the look in his eyes makes it abundantly clear that the control you wield is only temporary.

When your dress finally falls open, you try not to preen too much under the reverent look that falls over Hoseok’s face. Your back arches a little off the bed, pert breasts thrust towards him - an appealing offer he doesn’t dare refuse.

Hoseok circles a thumb around your nipple, rubbing and flicking until it hardens into a stiff peak.

You wonder, distantly, how this looks like from the outside looking in. The man in front of you is a stranger in all senses of the word. Yet the way he touches you - like there are years of built-up affection behind every gesture - makes you second guess everything you know.

"Fuckin' love your tits.” He sighs, awe reflected in the dark of his eyes. "Love playing with them. Love how wet it gets you, how hungry your little pussy gets."

"Please,” you mewl, his words igniting a new wave of heat. It rolls over your body, leaving no extremity untouched. You burn from the inside out with raw desire.

You squeeze your own breasts in a bid to get him to touch you more. Hoseok merely chuckles, finding your desperation entertaining. One of his hands reach down between you to play with the wetness that clings to your core like a second skin and it takes everything inside of you not to rub yourself against him like a bitch in heat.

"What is it, princess?" His lips quirk into a smirk like he already knows the answer. "You're looking quite needy. How did you manage to hold it in all this time?"

“Stop teasing,” you growl, the lack of friction making you irritable. "I need your cock. And why - why do you have so many fucking clothes on?”

He chuckles, chest vibrating in amusement.

“Take them off,” you insist. Then, you grudgingly tack on a “Please” for good measure.

As hot as Hoseok looks like in his “work clothes”, he looks infinitely better naked, you decide as he chucks off his button-down shirt and gets started on his leather belt. With each new piece of clothing that gets discarded, the anticipation building inside of you skyrockets.

You take a moment to soak in his lithe figure, not bothering to hide how affected you are by the view. He’s nicely sculpted; you can tell right away that he takes care of himself. Swimming or dancing maybe? You hesitate between the two. His muscles are lean, nothing like the bulging biceps and thick forearms typical of the stereotypical gym rat.

Hoseok’s dick is, unsurprisingly, as pretty as the rest of him. It’s long and curved, a prominent vein running along its underside. The thatch of pubic hair that rests above his dick is neatly trimmed, the dark hair contrasting with the tan skin of his abdomen and the rosy hue of his erect length. Your eyes swoop down his thighs, licking your lips unwittingly at the alluring sight presented to you.

“Daddy,” you say, the whine in your voice unmistakable. “Want your cock.”

For a brief moment you’re tricked into believing he’s given in to your demand, but find yourself disappointed when he contents himself with rubbing his hardened member between your thighs, the glide slippery thanks to the copious amount of your essence that’s pooled there.

“Like this?” Hoseok asks, tone too sweet to be anything but mocking. The head of his cock bumps into your swollen bundle of nerves one, two, three times. You keen, your hips canting upwards in a bid to get more friction. “Want to rut against me until you get nice and creamy?”

He uses his right hand to spread your slick lower lips so that he can nestle his cock snuggly between them. He rolls his hips, the undulations fluid and dirty, and smirks at how you moan brokenly beneath him.

Your stomach clenches. “Need it in me."

"You'll get it," he promises after kissing you sloppily, lips sucking on your tongue. His breath is ragged but his voice steady, firm. "I'll give you everything you need. Make you cum so many times you know who owns this sweet pussy."

He speaks so surely, carries himself with so much confidence, that in the moment you can't help but believe him. The line between staged and reality blurs and you find yourself nodding eagerly, begging him as best you can to give you what you want.

The first tentative push of his dick wipes you clean of coherency. He slowly eases himself into you, reaching forward to lace his fingers with yours. It’s - more intimate than you expected. He squeezes your hand tightly in his when he finally manages to bury his entire length inside of you.

“Perfect.” He kisses the side of your temple before drawing back, his hard cock dragging deliciously against you. With a fluid hip thrust, he slides back in and you feel the stretch moreso this time around. The curvature of his cock has him pressing up against your walls in a way that robs you of breath.

"Daddy! Hh - ah, oh God. You're too b-big."

"Mhm, that's right. Daddy's fat cock is splitting you open. I'll plug you up with it later so none of my cum will leak out."

Every time he pulls back, your pussy clamps down tightly around him, unwilling to be empty even for a second.

Hoseok’s nostrils flare in arousal. He grabs your left tit and squeezes, using it as a hold to better fuck into you. With his body hovering above yours, his hand staking claim of your breast, and his cock drilling into you, you have nowhere to go. Pinned to the bed and unable to do anything but take everything he delivers, you wrap your legs around his waist and moan.

"Daddy's gonna fuck some babies into you,” he rasps, his eyes dark pools of lust. "Gonna breed your sweet pussy over and over. You'll be so full of my cum that you'll be pregnant with my babies for sure."

“Oh fuck. Yes, yes - oh my nhhg.” You sob as Hoseok drives his cock into you with more force. While the piston of his hips isn’t rushed, he pulls out to the tip only to slam back in to the hilt every time. The stretch burns in a good way and the sound of your moans are rivaled only by the wet, obscene sounds from your coupling.

"Fuck. Your cunt just - shit." He cracks down a hand against your ass and you shriek, not expecting it. "You're so tight, holy shit."

"Want it. Want you to fuck me good."

"I will," he says lowly, the promise reverberating deep in his chest. "I'll fuck you until you're begging me to stop. Fill you up so much, you'll be bloated with it."

And it should freak you out, the imagery he paints with his words, but the thought of laying there and him fucking you so well that you won't be able to feel your legs has you gushing out more wetness.

"Mmmh.” Maybe he can feel how soaked you are because he comments, “This is my favorite hole of yours, princess. Always so fuckin' drenched. I bet we’ll have to throw out the sheets again." He chuckles. "You must be hungry for it, right? I made you wait so long. No wonder your pussy is clenching like that. It needs a big, fat cock to milk dry."

“I missed it,” you cry, body skidding a little higher up the duvet each time he fucks into you. Your eyelashes flutter, lids heavy. It’s hard to concentrate, let alone form words, when your brain feels like complete mush. “I - I need your cum. Daddy, please.”

"Don't worry, gorgeous. I've got you. Daddy will feed your cute pussy his cock."

"Th-thank you, Daddy."

"Love you," he murmurs. It’s a quiet confession, lost somewhere in between the mattress creaks, the loud slaps of Hoseok’s hips slamming against yours, and the string of whimpers and groans pulled from your throat. It’s quiet but you hear it.

One of your hands reach up to pull him down by the neck so that your lips meet. He kisses you open-mouthed. It’s a filthy kiss, one that makes you moan into his mouth. You’re certain that if you had been standing your knees would have wobbled.

When you let up for air, Hoseok’s staring you down, his red-bitten lips plump and shiny.

"Love this pussy. So sweet and wet for me. Always for fucking swollen, like it's waiting to get a pounding. Love that. Love how eager you are to be bred by my thick cock."

The impregnation kink is - a bit much. You've never really imagined having kids, at least not anytime soon. You can’t even keep your plants alive for fuck’s sake.

But the way he suggests it is nothing like what you had imagined. His suggestions are - vulgar and primal. Like the urge to fuck you full of his cum is biological and he can’t smother it.

For a moment, you let yourself entertain the thought of being his breeding bitch - of laying on your back and letting him fuck load after load of cum inside you until your pussy physically can't accommodate any more. Of not having any other worries or thoughts but take his cock every moment of the day.

"You just got tighter.” He curses under his breath, voice thick with arousal. "Such a warm little hole. Taking everything I give it. You'd take anything if it meant getting bred by me, right?"

“Yes, yes,” you chant, pleasure coiling inside of you. “Give me more! I need it."

"Shit. You can't handle more, princess," he tries to reason. "Daddy needs to be gentle with you. Your hole is so small, it'll hurt if I go harder."

"Daddy promised to fuck me.” You whine, uncaring if you sound too bratty and demanding. "B- Breed my hole. It's yours. Puh-please use me."

"God." Hoseok groans, his features twisting in what looks to be pain or pleasure. With tremendous effort he pulls himself out of you and your eyes widen in panic.

“What? Daddy why? I thought—”

He shushes you, reaching somewhere overhead to grab a fluffy pillow. "Just wait a sec, okay? There you go.”

The pillow is placed underneath your hips, keeping them elevated. When Hoseok takes his glistening cock in hand and directs it back in, you both moan in unison.

"Oh fuck, I’m gonna, ah,” you gasp as your mind goes blank with pleasure. The new angle is heaven on earth. It’s almost too much, too quick, but Hoseok’s firm grip on your hips prevents you from alleviating the pressure.

"Take it." He grunts, brows knit together. Every powerful snap of his hips makes your breasts bounce, your breath hitch. Without his hands keeping you pinned down, your head would have collided with the headboard by now. "Be a good princess and take your fucking."

He gains momentum, the new angle facilitating the slide of his cock. He drags the flat of his palm down your thigh and takes a hold of your knee before hoisting it up over your shoulder. The stretch burns the back of your calves but you’re so fucked out, you can’t even find the words to complain.

When you glance up, it’s to fall upon the sight of Hoseok brushing his sweaty fringe out of his face. His cheeks are flushed pink, his skin dewy from the film of perspiration wrapped around his body. Beads of sweat trickle down his heaving chest but he chooses to forgo a quick break. On the contrary, he pushes in deeper like he’s determined to carve out a permanent space for his cock.

"Just gonna keep you here,” he huffs, his eyes the shade of cloudless night sky. “Everyday I'll fuck my cum back inside of you so that you'll always stay full. Want to fuck you forever. Don't want this to end."

"Want it too," you sob, orgasm hovering just on the periphery. "Want you to keep me full forever. Ugh - oh fuck! Hoseok- I'm—"

"You gonna cum around my cock, princess?" He angles his hips downwards, relishing in the wanton cry it elicits. "Gonna give me everything?"

"I'm yours," you profess, jaw slack with pleasure.

It doesn’t take much more for the orgasm to crash over you, Hoseok fucks you through it, groaning as your inner walls spasm around him. He breathes out curses, lip drawn tight between his lips, and doesn’t wait for the last waves of your orgasm to abate to chase after his own end.

In the throes of your pleasure, it doesn’t register then that Hoseok has been holding back all this time. If you thought he had been fucking you hard before, it’s nothing compared to now. He growls and bends forward, forcing your leg to stretch even more, and pushes in and out of you at a pace that makes you scream.

You don’t even have time to come down from your first high that you’re already thrown towards your second. Hoseok plugs your mouth up using two digits, his fingers a firm pressure against your tongue. Your eyes roll back, too overwhelmed from the feeling of being stuffed on both ends.

“God, I could fuck your holes all fucking day.” His rhythm begins to falter as the pressure inside of him grows, his movements frantic and less controlled than they’ve ever been. “How about that? I’ll fuck my princess’ mouth properly next time, stretch it out nicely. Then you’ll let me have your ass, hm?”

Shit, shit, you whimper around his fingers, spit bubbling down the sides on your mouth. It’s scary knowing you have no way to stop the oncoming destruction.

“Yeah, I can tell you love that. You’re gonna cream my dick again, aren’t you?” You can’t tell if the sound he makes is a laugh or a grunt. All you know is that you feel like you’re about to burst. “C’mon, be a good girl and milk my cum out. You better get every last drop.”

There’s an underlying threat in his command. You do your best to obey his words, not wanting to disappoint.

Hoseok pushes his cock in as deep as it can go and grinds his hips into yours. His cock reaches so deep that you swear he might hit your cervix. And considering the nature of the scene you’re portraying, maybe that’s what he intends.

He swipes his fingers through the mess of your cunt, zeroing in on your sensitive clit. He swirls some of your fluids over it before giving it a sharp pinch that makes you cry out. Your hips fly off the pillow but Hoseok is quick to pin you back down. The never-ending drag of his cock along your walls paired with the rough ministrations to your clit is all you need for the pressure inside you to snap.

Above you, Hoseok moans, low and throaty, as he finally dumps rope after rope of warm cum inside of you. He throws his head back, exposing the collar of purplish bruises you sucked onto his skin earlier. Something about the view satisfies you immensely - not that you’d dare voice these thoughts out loud.

Hoseok’s strength gives out and he sags onto your body, his breath warm against your skin. He feels hot, like a furnace, but strangely it’s not uncomfortable. It’s almost like having a personal heating pad; the soreness of your muscles melts away with each passing moment.

Much to your displeasure, your post-coital bliss doesn’t last forever. He's given the signal to pull out and obeys, careful to keep your hips propped up so that his load of cum won’t slosh out. He’s still got a role to play, after all, and the end goal is to get you pregnant.

A cameraman walks forward to zoom in on your swollen and used pussy - physical proof of your exploits. The haze lifts. You become more aware of the people standing on the outskirts of your vision, lighting or sound equipment in hand.

“And that’s a wrap!” Director Ryu calls, his cheeks stretched to accommodate the width of his grin. “Good job everybody!”

You breathe out a sigh, glad your day is finally over. Seokjin walks up to you with a robe for you to throw on and you nod in thanks, slipping the satin gown over your sweaty body.

Around you, the staff start milling about, putting the equipment away and gathering their belongings. You pay them no heed, your attention focused on getting changing into showering and changing into comfortable clothes. You’re in the middle of taming your messy hair when your stomach erupts into growls, reminding you of your hungry state. What you’d do for a big slice of piz—

You remember your date with Jimin and speed up, not wanting to make him wait around for you any longer. It’s not hard to spot him - he’s waiting outside of your dressing room, can of coke in hand.

Something about his smile feels off.

Maybe it’s the way his eye corners don’t crease or the slight strain the curve of his mouth that betray him.

Your expression falls. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing - it’s nothing, don’t worry,” he says after a short, tense moment of silence. The look on your face must have reflected your feelings of doubt because he proceeds by reaching out and pulling you tight against him. Pressed up against his shirt, you can smell the faintest trace of the fabric softener he uses and its scent, familiar and sweet, mollifies you somewhat. “You did amazing today, baby. As usual.”

The compliment you’ve been waiting for makes the sides of your lips rise automatically. “I did, didn’t I?”

“Almost too well.” He hums, one of his hands stroking the back of your head.

“Well, I can’t take all the credit, “ you admit. “The results wouldn’t have been half as good if Hoseok hadn’t been my partner. He’s new in the game but he doesn’t act like it, does he?”

“He doesn’t, no.” Jimin agrees. “He’s... he’s something, alright.”

Your grin widens. All your worrying had been for nothing, in the end. The shoot had gone without a hitch, all of the set members coming up to you with praises of a job well done. You can’t recall the last time any of your performances had elicited such a response post-filming. Even Director Ryu looks particularly pleased, a permanent grin etched onto his features as he reviews the tapes. The knowledge that you’ve done well fills you with a pleasant giddiness that warms your insides and makes your cheeks hurt from how wide your smile stretches.

“Oh good, you’re still here.” Hoseok beams. A damp towel hangs around his neck and the ends of his hair are wet like he’s just gone and doused his head under the bathroom faucet. “I was worried you had left. I just - thanks for earlier. I had a lot of fun! If the chance presents itself, I hope we can work together again.”

“Thank you.” You want to praise him too, know that his performance deserves it, but your next words are cut off before they have the chance to form. Jimin steps closer to you, his grip on your hip tightening suddenly.

When you glance up to check on your boyfriend, he’s sporting a serious expression that you’ve rarely seen before. He doesn’t look angry, but it’s clear as day that he isn’t too pleased with the present situation. His face is closed off, cold, unwelcoming - so drastically different from the usual cherubic sweetness you’re accustomed to seeing.

You’re at a loss for words, unsure of who to address first. What’s going on?

Hoseok senses the sudden change in atmosphere and chooses to tactfully retreat.

“Good work, man.” He nods at Jimin and then shoots you a wave. “See you around sometime, ______ !”

Your eyes follow his exit before you turn to face Jimin again, hoping the smile on your face masks the worry you feel bubbling on the inside.

“Jimin what - I mean, are you sure you're okay?”

Jimin returns a strained smile of his own. “I’m fine.”

Your gaze lands on his right hand that’s still squeezing your waist. It borders on uncomfortable but you try not to let it show. You must not do a very good job at schooling your features because Jimin quickly apologizes for his behavior.

“Sorry.” Jimin lets you go once he notices your discomfort. “I just - I don’t know. You’re right, I’m not acting like myself. I think...seeing you say that stuff and act that way just - I’m not sure why, I guess - Since usually the sex isn’t like that, it caught me off guard.”

“You didn’t like that I acted like I was in love with him.”

“Would anyone?” he shoots back, smile sardonic. “It just looked so convincing in the moment. I guess it got me worked up.”

Sure, Hoseok is hot. If you had to work with him again, you would in a heartbeat. It’s not often you land a colleague you’re so sexually compatible with, who also happens to be so well-mannered and good-looking. It’s like hitting the jackpot, really.

But - just because you’d fuck him again for professional reasons, doesn’t mean that you’re interested in him beyond that.

“Jimin. I don’t want to be with anybody else but you.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” The muscles in his face relax. “I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

It’s not until later, as he fucks you uncharacteristically hard in the backseat of his car parked in the back lot of the film studio, that you begin to wonder if things really are as idyllic as you believe them to be.

#wow so this took a decade and a half to finish but it's finally here !#final part should be up by the end of the month : )#bts smut #hoseok smut #hoseok #also warning i didn't proofread the smut scene yet so rip if there are any mistakes

2K notes · View notes

hex6rcist · 4 years

Text

The original ask for this was accidentally deleted so here it is in a post. The ask was along the lines of: Jin meeting reader when they start a conversation with him out of the blue. They go from friend, to FWB, to a relationship. Can be NSFW. I believe the asker was @slobbynblobby

This ended up way longer than I had thought because I went with a weird format that isn’t really a fic but also isn’t really headcanons? So I hope that’s cool. Hope you enjoy. <3

TW: Alcohol, nsfw, drunk sex

WC: 4,200+

Jin x [F!] Reader Developing Relationship

First Meeting

Jin isn’t one to strike up a conversation with strangers in public. If he could help it he would actually avoid speaking in public at all. His tic makes it particularly difficult for him to communicate with anyone who doesn’t know him well enough and can often times embarrass him in public, so he’d rather just keep his mouth shut.

However he won’t be outright cold to anyone out and about who tries to talk to him. He’ll do his best to give lost strangers directions, he’ll excuse himself if he bumps someone, he’ll thank the person at the checkout counter. He’s not a dick. If anything he can just come off as curt as he tries to keep his ticing to an unoffensive minimum.

When you sit next to him on the late night train he gives a polite bob of his head but that’s about it. It was never a problem for him if he was brusque in a public setting because no one expected much more. But you sat for a while, fiddling with the end of your shirt and letting your eyes wander around the train. Being late it wasn’t as packed as usual but everyone was still seated close together. Idly you two bump knees.

Jin draws his knees in closer, eyes shifting over to see if he’d bothered you. He was surprised when you were looking right back at him. Your nose twitched in a way that Jin thought was cute but could have possibly been an indication of disgust. His eyes quickly shifted away and he mumbled a short, “Sorry.”

You give a small smirk. “Never apologize mister, it’s a sign of weakness.” He’s a little taken aback by the response, unsure of what to say to that. “I take it you’ve never heard of John Wayne huh?” He simply shook his head no and your nose gave another one of those cute twitches. “He’s an American actor form the 1940s. He was in a bunch of these cool western films, ya know the ones about cowboys? And he always plays these tough guys who say cool shit like, ‘Courage is being scared to death, but saddling up anyway.’” You’d struck your best tough guy face and put on a drawl, making Jin chuckle lightly. A little smile plays on your face too. You like his laugh and wanna hear more.

You chat for so long Jin is actually surprised when the train comes to a halt and you start to grab your things. “Sorry, my stop. It was nice talking to you. Maybe I’ll see you again.” All he can get out is a pretty lame, “Oh, bye.” before you’re gone. In the silence you left him in he’s not sure how to feel. One part of him is glad that he’d gotten through a pretty normal conversation with a perfect stranger on the train. He felt normal which was refreshing. But another part of him wanted to kick himself for not getting your number or at least your name.

Second Meeting

Jin wouldn’t want to outright admit that he was looking for you but he would say he ended up on that particular train more often than he would have before. The week passes by without a sighting and he comes close to giving up, he’s really starting to feel a little creepy. But that Friday night just before the train was about to depart you slide through the doors before they could close with a relieved sigh. Jin could feel his heart in his throat. Would you even remember him let alone sit by him again? Maybe you were just being polite that night.

Sure enough when you recognize the cute blonde guy you’d chatted up just last week sitting in the same spot he’d been in before you don’t hesitate to flop down in the space next to him. “Hey there, good to see you again. I realized I didn’t introduce myself before I got off last time and felt so rude. Especially after you let me talk your ear off. I’m y/n!” Jin really couldn’t believe his luck. “I’m Jin.” “No I’m not!” He flinched slightly at his outburst. Last time he saw you he had been doing well for a while but things tended to change fast with him. Once again Jin noticed your nose crinkle a bit but you ignored his outburst. “Jin, I like that name. It suits you.”

Just like last time you spend the whole ride chatting. Jin doesn’t let on that he’d come to take this train every night since you met just to see you but you reveal to him that you work the late shift at a bar in Kamino Ward So you always take this train back home on the weekends. He decides that makes sense for you, the kinda girl who starts a conversation with a stranger on the train, to work at a bar. “Why do you take this train?” Obviously he doesn’t want to tell you what his business in that part of the city is so he settles on saying he also works in the area but takes the late train home because he likes to hang out at the bar after work.

This time when you get up to leave he’s a little more ready, It’s the same stop you got off at last time. “It was nice talking again Jin! You should come by my bar some time. I’ll buy you a drink. I work tomorrow night if you’re interested.” With a little wave he watches you hop off the train. He can’t help but smile the whole way back to his shitty motel. Sure he hadn’t manned up enough to ask for your number yet, but at least now he didn’t have to feel like a stalker.

Becoming Friends

The night after your second meeting Jin had decided to come and meet you at the bar. He was glad when he realized it was more of a small dive and not one of the clubs with a thrumming bass. This definitely suited him better. Though it was still a Saturday night and the place was kind of packed he was able to find a seat at the end of the bar. When you noticed him you couldn’t help but be excited. “You came!” You made your way to him, cutting your conversation short with another man. You being so excited to see him and the dirty look the guy shot him went to Jin’s head juuuuust a little bit if he was being honest.

“Okay, okay let me think. I’m so good at guessing what people like to drink so don’t tell me okay!” He gives a short nod, “Alright impress me.” You stand back and act like you’re framing him up in a camera shot while he makes goofy poses. “Mhm, yeah, that’s good, yup. Okay! I got it!” You throw open one of the coolers and pull out the cheapest beer you got before cracking it open and placing it in front of him. “Oh, you are good.” “Whaddaya think I’m cheap?” You giggle and shrug, “Not cheap, just not one for frills, beer is beer.” This time when your nose wrinkles he realized it for what it was, a little tic of your own.

Jin ends up at the bar with you every weekend and every time he comes you’re just as excited as the first. What had started off as a chance meeting on the train turned into a friendship. He loved to watch you work, effortlessly juggling social situations in a way he couldn’t imagine doing. You really were a people person and he just really liked that about you.

Though his favorite part of the weekend really had to be when the two of you walked to the train together. It was strangely intimate to share such a casual routine with you. And he was glad he could. He really didn’t like the thought of you making the walk to the train on your own that late at night in that part of the city. He knew you could take care of yourself, he’d seen you break up plenty of bar altercations, but he also knew what kind of threats stalked these streets and with your friendly nature he worries someone might lure you in.

The biggest thing Jin noticed once he spent more time with you is just how damn friendly you could be. You were downright kind in a way he didn’t often see. You were the kind of girl who’d give a bum your last dollar, your last cigarette, and ask about their day. It always took him aback that in a world like this someone as sweet as you could exist.

FWB

Jin knew he was attracted to you. He knew as soon as he met you. Though if he was being more honest he’d say it wasn’t as much an attraction as it was a crush. You were funny, smart, beautiful, sweet, the whole package really. and he knows he’s not the only one interested. Plenty of other men at the bar vied for your attention, leaving large tips and their phone numbers or leaning over the bar just to get closer to you. It made him glad you never really drank at work. He didn’t want anyone to try and take advantage.

That’s why he was shocked to see you downing shots with one of your other regulars when he entered the bar one Sunday night. You frantically gesture for him to come join you and the small group of regulars at that end of the bar, opposite where he’d normally sit. He approached shyly. He knew some faces and some names but never chose to interact much with other customers, much preferring your company. But you happily introduced him to the group before revealing it was one of the patron’s birthdays. Later you two would remember this as the night that Jin met party y/n.

Needless to say you all got pretty trashed, buying the birthday boy, Jin, and yourself shots. By the end of the night you had a hard enough time closing up the bar on your own Jin jumped in to help put up chairs and mop while you focused heavily on counting the till and pulling the money you spent past your comp tab out of your tips.

It really wasn’t until you two had gotten on the train that you both realized how drunk you were. You head lolled onto his shoulder as you two tried to quell fits of giggles, much to the annoyance of the other passengers. When your stop rolled around you both agreed it’d be safest if Jin walked you home.

At first it didn’t really hit you but the closer you got to home the more you started to think. Should you invite him in? You looked at Jin from the corner of you eye. He wasn’t the only one with a crush. You knew you wanted to invite him in and you were just drunk enough to take the leap. But then how clean was your apartment right now? Did you leave you underwear from this morning on the floor? Is your makeup all over the bathroom counter? All these thoughts abandoned ship however when you reached your door. Jin shifted from foot to foot awkwardly while you fumbled with your keys. Finally you got them in the lock and opened the door. Moment of truth. “You wanna come in?”

You two were barely through the door when your lips found his. Neither of you was sure who’d leaned in first and neither of you cared. In an instant your hands were all over each other. Groping, caressing, feeling it seemed neither of you could get enough. Your nails raked through his hair and his strong hands had found their way under the hem of your shirt to grab your waist. The feeling of his hands on your bare skin is all it took to finally get the two of you out of the entryway and stumbling towards your room.

You both laughed lightly as you guided him by the hand through your dark apartment, tripping over nothing and bumping into walls and each other. When you two finally reach your room he’s pleasantly surprised by the way you push him down onto the bed and climb on top of him. He’s almost thankful for his inebriated state and the confidence it gave him. While your lips pressed to his neck, kissing and nipping, his hands found their way to your ass, giving a firm squeeze.

Both you and Jin eagerly shucked off each other’s clothing. Once you were naked and laying below Jin you couldn’t help but feel just a little shy, cheeks tinting pink. He let his hands glide along the length of your body before they found your hips and squeezed. “You’re so beautiful.” “I’m gonna fuck you so good.” Your lower lip caught between your teeth as Jin lowered his head to start kissing down your stomach, the tickle of his scruff making you giggle.

Jin settled himself between your legs, his broad shoulders keeping them spread for him. Just before his lips found the spot where you wanted them most he took a detour to nip playfully at your inner thigh. You gave a little yelp your toes curling as you giggled again. “Jin! Don’t tease me.” Not wanting to leave a pretty girl waiting he finally let his tongue lave up the length of your wet cunt, just to get a taste of you. His tongue found it’s way to your clit, circling around the sensitive bud in a way that made you moan. Your head fell back onto your pillow as your thighs squeezed to trap Jin’s head. Not that he minded. His large calloused fingers probed shyly at your entrance, feeling how wet you are from his treatment. He pulled back just long enough to press his fingers to your mouth. You part plush lips to take his fingers in and suck on them. He moaned, the feeling sending a shock though his system. He loved how you looked right then, eyes glazed with lust and his fingers in your mouth. He slowly thrust them in and out, letting you get them nice and prepped before he couldn’t wait any more. “Good girl.” “You’re such a slut.” Eagerly Jin returned to his spot between your thighs. He gave himself the privilege of watching one of his fingers enter your tight pussy. Even though it was only his fingers he couldn’t stop the satisfied sigh that fell form his lips before he went back to your clit.

Jin made sure you were well and satisfied before finally standing and pulling you to the edge of the bed. He gave his achingly hard dick a few stroked before slowly pushing it inside you. “Oh fuck!” The way your thighs quivered and your voice hitched was enough to drive him crazy. He wanted nothing more than to pound into you but he held it together. He wanted you to enjoy it as much as him. He locked eyes with you and let his hands cup your face. He thrust slow and hard, groaning softly. “You feel so fucking good, y/n.” “I wanna make you scream for me.” Jin’s cock stretched you so good you could only reply in small whimpers and moans. Your hand found the back of Jin’s head pulling him so close your foreheads touch before you lock lips in a heated kiss.

When you finally adjust your legs wrap tightly around his hips and you press yourself farther into him. Jin gladly takes the cue and his hips begin to move at a brutal pace. The first hard thrust arches your back and rips a loud moan from you. He sits up, one hand pinning your hips to the bed and the other rubbing unrelenting circles on your clit. You’ve only just started and you can already feel an intense orgasm rippling through your body, making your legs tremble. The feeling of your pussy clenching around him only spurred Jin on further.

The next morning Jin’s head was pounding. He squinted against the harsh light of the sun and buried his face into your chest. ‘... Wait...’ He shot up with a small gasp before looking around the room. It took him a moment to remember exactly what happened last night but the pieces slowly clicked together. He looked down at your still naked form, snoring softly next to him. He slowly lowered himself back down, laying on his side. He brushed your hair out of your face and took in your sleeping face.

After that night you two had an admittedly awkward morning. You made coffee and some greasy breakfast food to quell your monster hangovers but you couldn’t ignore what had happened the night before. You also couldn’t ignore the lingering touches and eye contact between you two. Finally after eating and getting a few cups of coffee down Jin trapped you between his body and the kitchen counter. His fingers raked through your hair before cupping your cheek. Any resolve you had to not do this again was quickly replaced by need as you pull Jin in for a deep kiss.

It would go on like this for the next 3 months. Stumbling back to your apartment on drunken nights, stealing kisses in alleyways, playful pinches and squeezes. You two had both tried to stop what was happening but you just couldn’t keep your hands off of each other after that first night. You’d both agreed to enjoy whatever this casual sexual relationship was for now. You were having fun and there was no reason to read too much into it.

Relationship

“Hey Jin you going to see your girlfriend? When do we get to meet her?” Toga’s questions threw him through a loop. ‘Girlfriend.’ The word made him nervous but excited. And well at this point he really wouldn’t say that you weren’t his girlfriend. Neither of you was really sure when it happened, but it just dawned on you both one day that things had just gotten more serious. Nights of stumbling back to your apartment to hook up turned slowly into walking home hand in hand to watch a movie on the couch. You now cooked more meals together instead of just breakfast. Hot, passionate kisses turned to slow, sweet smooches. In the end though neither of you minded all that much. It was nice. Comfortable. “Yeah I am.” “You’ll never meet her!”

That night when Jin met you at the bar he found it hard to keep his heartbeat steady. That word just wouldn’t leave his mind, ‘girlfriend.’ You crack open a beer and place it in front of him before leaning over the bar to press a chaste kiss to his lips. It had become more common for you to greet him with little kisses and sweet hugs. That had to mean you felt the same right? You were both on the same page?

At the end of the night it took all of Jin’s courage. But once the bar was closed down and you two was sharing one last beer in the dim light he decided now was the best time. “Y/n, you know how I feel about you right?” Your nose crinkled in the way he loved and your cheeks flushed. “I think I have a pretty good idea...” Jin nodded, “Good because I want us to be on the same page. I want you to be my girlfriend.” God that word made your heart flutter. You wrap your arms around his neck and lean in for a sweet kiss. “Mmh, I like the sound of that.”

Dating Jin most days was like a dream. He was handsome, funny, and loving. He wanted nothing more than to make you happy and you wanted to do the same for him. In a lot of ways he surprised you. A healthy and loving relationship wasn’t an easy find these days. That being said you knew Jin had his problems, you did too. No one was perfect. You two had a long discussion about what exactly to do when Jin had one of his episodes and that’s when he showed you his mask. If he was going to be with you he wanted to be honest. Finding out about the League was a hard pill to swallow but one you were willing to take. You had your own issues with the way this superhuman society was canted and you could understand why Jin did what he did. But it made you worry for him, not just for his physical safety but his emotional wellbeing too.

Jin had decided that the best way to make you feel better about the situation would be to introduce you to the league. They had really become his family and so had you. He figured if you could see firsthand what kind of support he had it’d put you at ease. So that’s how you ended up hanging out in an abandoned bar with some of Japan’s most wanted criminals. It was a little uncomfortable at first but the setting was familiar to you. Your attitude quickly put everyone at ease, and seeing Jin so happy definitely helped.

Toga was probably the quickest to take to you. She was a romantic after all and she really felt that you and Jin were a perfect match. And you were so cute too! A little fact that didn’t escape Dabi’s attention. He made sure to give Jin a good clap on the back for that though he otherwise seemed uninterested in you. The others regarded you politely but with apprehension. Jin could be a little too trusting for a villain sometimes. Though no one would deny that you were a very cute couple, other than a disgruntled Shigaraki who’d only really agreed to this so Toga would stop asking.

After the first meeting Jin’s life fell into a kind of weird harmony. He moved out of his shitty motel and into your small apartment. He liked not hiding anything from you and feeling completely accepted for who he was. He knew his life would never be normal or peaceful but this was fulfilling, and that’s all a guy like him could ever ask for.

#jin bubaigawara #jin bubaigawara x reader #twice #twice x reader #twice bnha #bnha imagines #bnha headcanons #bnha scenarios

273 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

spoopynightstudent

Untitled

scrambldeggs

fruity kid

captainlucywolf

haciendalosandes

Hacienda Los Andes

neutronico10

Sin título