#bc the running water and chirping birds

[yelenasdiary]

OH MY I HAVE A SUPER GREAT FIC IDEA

yelena x reader

their anniversary, like maybe third of being a couple

they rent a chalet for a week, so cold and snow

during an afternoon walk in the woods they emerge on a frozen lake, and reader is stubborn, so when yelena tells her NOT TO WALK on the ice she does it anyway and then reader falls in ice water

Yelena manages to save her in the end and they run to the chalet and Yelena does everything to warm up the reader and in the end she succeeds

a lot of comfort/fluff in the end and a little bit of angst bc reader is stubborn

Cold Shock

Pairing: Yelena Belova x Fem! Reader

Summary: Yelena quickly jumps into action to save your life when your stubbornness doesn’t listen to her.

Fluff, Comfort & Light Angst

Warnings: hypothermia, fear of dying | 1.1K

Translations: Detka (baby), Милый (darling), 

AC: I hope it’s okay I went with Fem! Reader, usually when a requests uses she/her pronouns I just go with Fem. Thank you for sending this, I hope you enjoy! x 

The sky was blue with a kiss of orange as the sun began to set and after an exciting day or skiing and snowboarding, it was your idea that you and Yelena take a small walk before it got too dark. Layers of snow covered the green of the tall trees leaves and branches, your footprints dug deeply into the thick layer of snow on the floor as you and Yelena walked hand in hand through the woods close to the chalet Yelena had booked for the weekend. 

Birds chirped their last song of the day and wild rabbits and hares came out to catch the last hours of the sun before night fell. The air was cold, but the coldness didn’t bother you when your gloved fingers were interlocked with Yelena’s. You had been waiting for this weekend get-away since the moment Yelena mentioned it. You had a countdown on the calendar that hung in the kitchen of your shared apartment. 

“Detka!” Yelena’s worried voice stopped you the seconds before your right foot would land on the frozen over lake. She gently pulled you back, the two of you barely noticing the lake from being so distracted by conversation and the sights around you. “Ooo! Let’s do a little skating!” You suggested causing Yelena’s brows to frown. 

“I don’t think so, do you know how dangerous it is to walk on a frozen lake?” She replied, standing her ground. 

“Oh, come on baby, it can’t be that bad! People do it all the time” you said, taking a step onto the thick ice. 

“Милый, please get off the ice! It’s not safe!” Yelena stressed, not batting an eye off you. A cheeky smirk tugged at your lips as you began to slightly and slowly walk out further into the middle, “don’t tell me a little bit of ice scares you” you teased, not hearing the cracking sound below your feet. 

“I’m being serious! Get back here!” Your girlfriend demanded, her own foot hovering slightly over the ice just wanting to get to you and pull you off the dangerous ice. To tease her a little more, you spun around, giving her a little twirl when the ice broke through. In the blink of an eye your body fell through the ice. You had never felt water so cold before, your body went into panic as you tried to swim to the top. 

You faintly heard Yelena’s voice call your name as she rushed ever so carefully to your aid. Your eyes were in pain as you tried to keep them open to see Yelena’s hand reaching for you. She was too far, you were falling deeper, your body going into a cold shock. You tried harder, kicking your legs to help push you back up to the surface while your mind filled with regret just wishing you had listened to Yelena. 

Above the ice, Yelena was calling out for you. She rushed to grab a long stick for you to grab, everything was happening quickly, you faintly saw the stick enter the water, just inches away from your cold, cold hands and with all the little strength you had in you, you grabbed it as tightly as you could. 

Yelena pulled you to safety, dragging your cold body off the ice. You were almost as blue as the sky and Yelena knew she had to act quickly. She took off her puffer coat and began to carefully strip you of your wet clothing. With nobody else around to help, she picked you up in her arms and rushed you back to the chalet as fast as the thick snow would allow her.

Once inside, she gently placed you on the sofa and ran to get more dry and warm clothing as well as blankets to help your body warm up again. “Try and stay still, detka” Yelena said after she dried and dressed you in dry clothing. She covered you with the blankets before she slid in beside you, wrapping you up in her arms. “S-ss-sso c-cold” your teeth chattered.  

“It’s okay detka, just keep still and let your body slowly warm up” she assured you, gently pulling you closer into her hold. Her body heat adding to the other ways to help your body warm up. 

After an hour of laying on the sofa wrapped in Yelena’s arms, you started to feel your body temperance returning to normal. “Baby, can you please make me a tea?” You asked, craving a nice warm drink. Yelena smiled softly, seeing that your skin color had returned. She placed a kiss on your forehead, “of course I can” she said softly before she carefully climbed over you and making her way to the kitchen. While you were now by yourself for a few minutes, the guilty feeling of not taking Yelena seriously had sunk in once again. 

Slowly, you sat up on the sofa, keeping the blankets covering your entire body while you waited for Yelena to return. 

“What’s eating you up?” Yelena asked, handing you the hot drink. You held it with both hands, allowing the hot mug to warm your hands up even more. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you” you replied. Yelena sat next to you, placing a kiss on your cheek, “that doesn’t matter detka. All I care about is that you’re safe and okay” she assured you. “You might get a cold after this but that just means we can extend our stay so I can make sure you that you get the best care and are 110% feeling better before we go back home” she added. 

You couldn’t help the soft smile that tugged at your lips, “can we even extend our stay?” You asked, not wanting to leave the beauty of this place. Yelena shrugged, “leave it to me, I’ll work something out” she said before you took a sip of your tea. 

----

Later that night, once your body temperature was back to normal and you had taken a warm shower to wash the lake water out of your hair, you found Yelena on the balcony of the two-story chalet. You walked up behind her and wrapped your arms around her waist, “what’s eating you up?” You asked her. She smiled softly, “I’m just taking how beautiful this place is” she replied softly before she turned in your arms and placed her hands on your hips, “and how much of a stubborn little bunny I have in my hands” she added. You chuckled at her words before she kissed you gently.

“You say that as if you’d have me any other way” you replied, teasingly. 

“There’s not a damn thing I would ever change about you, my stubborn little bunny” Yelena smiled softly. 

“I’m glad because even after today, I still want to go ice skating!” 

Yelena chuckled, “I’ll take you skating but we’re going to do it the safe way, okay?” 

“Aye, aye captain” you smiled before you kissed her plump lips once more.

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[konigsblog]

hii i have a request for kidnapper!konig, so imagine he’s giving you a bath right and he’s not like in the bath with you and he ran out of like shampoo for you or something and says he’ll be back in a second to go grab a new bottle from somewhere idfk, but bc ur in such a negative head space with being trapped in the basement you go under the water and don’t come back up until konig comes back in and pulls you up from the water

ex: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8LCqjVn/

like what would he do…

// self destructive behaviour, mentions off attempted suicide

you'd been dealing with mental health recently, and it was seeming to not get any better. your heart ached for your family - unaware they were buried a few miles from the house. you so - desperately - wanted this to be over, for it to finish, to stop the lingering, throbbing pain in your cold heart that seemed to last an eternity.

his hands wandered over every inch of your body, staining it with his touch. you felt vulnerable under his grasp; knowing the six-foot ten, brute and burly man could beat you black and blue within seconds. he stepped out the bathroom to grab something, and you noticed the window above the bathtub, the blarring sounds of bird chirping. you barely noticed the tears falling down your cheeks, becoming raw with each lone tear running down.

you lowered your head into the bubbly water, cutting off both airways. water filled your mouth, running down your throat and suffocating you, your nose became blocked while listening to the muffled sounds of footsteps in the distance. a few loud german curses before his large, calloused hand grasped the back of your head tightly, pulling you up and grabbing your jaw. könig's eyes were full of terror, it was hard to describe if he was just fearful and shocked or he was livid, enraged at you.

he rushed you out the bath, lifting you up with his large arms, cradling you like a baby. he already knew your struggles, yet never truly believed you'd ever do something like this. he wiped the stray tears away with his thumb, wrapping a towel around your form and coddling you in it :(( könig sat down with you atop of the bed, both his arms beneath your cradled body, your head resting against his biceps as he sobbed uncontrollably. yelling at you while you hyperventilated and trembled :(

[caramelstarlight]

Two Worlds One Heart 🌸An unexpected encounter🌸

(Credit to Ethereis(Tumblr) for the title! I decided to use the 5 that weren't for the title of the story as titles for chapters/parts!)(Collei in this chapter woo wooop even added a little bit of Tighnari in this. Here's where you finally meet him.)(Yes I'm adding references LMAOOO- Kelly is prob gonna put their detective hat on and try figure them out.) (Meant to be 2,500 bc I was making it each chapter gets 500+ words minimum but that would make the final be 11k and for the 5 endings that's over 200,000 words. Yes I'm motivated but not up to that point.) (so the word count will be random always below 5,000 but above 1,500.) 

Word Count: 3500+, A/N: I swear to Kusanali if this flops...

"Finally out of the chasm... phew... the path to sumeru in the chasm sure can be difficult to find." You stated finally over with the navigation. The sketchbook really did help you as you always gotten slightly lost within it. 

Seeing the opening / clearing on the threshold of the tunnel you used, were giant plants with a nearby stream. Multiple creatures with eachother nearby thriving. The sight wa simply exhilarating and breathtaking everyone seemed so peaceful it was ethereal. Making it seem like a dream. You quickly opened the sketchbook you owned, finding a blank page to doodle the scenery before your eyes. 

Many animals were wary of your presence before seeing you had a tail and ears they seemed to be more chill around you. Figuring you were like a sumpter beast. Big yet friendly and calm. Which is how you were at the moment. A few foxes seemed to take an interest in you. Aww! How adorable~ you thought seeing the crimson foxes become more comfortable and friendly. 

"Don't worry! I won't hurt you~" you stated in a soothing voice, standing up briefly gaining the foxes attention. Showing your 5 tails for a few minutes to them. Revealing you were a Kitsune, a type of Fox Yokai. Going back down to doodle in your book as one fox came into your lap finding comfort and warmth. The two others near you simply watched you draw. One was putting their fore paws on your knee. With its hind legs keeping it steady. Interesting in what you had drew. 

The other had pawed at you. Wanting you to put it on top of your shoulder. You gently lifted the fox onto your left one, it easily slid into the space wrapping its tail slightly around your neck. Your doodle of the scenery before you was decently finished. The birds chirping while the water flowed nearby was calming. Almost to the point you could fall asleep. But you just arrived in sumeru, the place you wanted to go for years. How could you fall asleep now? You also slept only a hour or two ago. 

Unknowingly a forest ranger was watching you. You didn't know where it was as you could only sense their presence. Their green hair and violet eyes blended them in. Easily matching the patches of flora surrounding the area. Asking one of the fox buddies to go investigate, they followed your command. Easily finding who was watching you from afar. 

A girl around your height, seemed to be interested in why foxes were so comfortable around you. Seeing one come up she thought of running away, instead the fox walked back to you. Craning its head around to see if she was following. Seeming to understand what the fox had wanted she followed. Going closer to you, the unknown person. Or well she thought you were an ordinary one at first glance, wondering why you were so close to foxes so easily. Made her wonder.. how?

"Hello! I sensed your presence, you seem like a forest watcher. By your clothing is how I'm assuming of course. You don't need to be alarmed by me." You stated seeing the fox come back with its fore paws on your knee. Going back to watching you doodle. You stopped, scratching the heads of all 3 foxes for brief moments. Before turning the book so the girl could see. "What do you think of this illustration? If you're a forest watcher I hope you can tell me if I missed any details that I can put." You stated showing your sketch was nearly finished. 

"It looks great uhm..." She stated showing happiness. "Oh dear me! I never told you my name did I? I'm Y/N, many people mistake me for Yae Miko. I'm sure you heard of her. I'm her younger sibling. I'm more kind and less mischievous than she is." You stated, waiting for the girl to introduce herself. "Oh nice to meet you Y/N! I'm collei, a trainee forest ranger so your assumption was correct! Why are the foxes so y'know... comfortable around you? I heard of Yae Miko rarely just knowing they had a publishing house..." She stated amazed by your drawing. 

"Ah well do you know Yokai? I'm one of them. I'm a fox Yokai, a Kitsune." "Oh wait you are? I'm so sorry for not recognizing miss! Apologies Y/N." She said with a slightly worried expression. "No need to apologize dear. If you want you can pet my tail or ears for a little." You stated as you closed your sketchbook. It disappeared into your bag. 

 "Ah R-really-? A-are you sure? We really just met and people like you usually don't like them getting touched!" She stated, confused by what you had stated previously. "You seem nice enough to me. Go for it if you want. You can choose." You stated as she sat down on the right now noticing your tail."Hey Y/N do kitsune gain a tail every 100 years? If I remember correctly my master taught me a little bit." She questioned seeing the singular tail. "Yes we do. Are you confused by my singular tail or something?" You asked back. Questioning why she had asked. 

"Yeah are you choosing to do that or do you actually have one? You said I could pet your tails." She said repeating what you had told her. "Yes I have multiple and they are hard work. It's no wonder why Miko prefers hiding all of hers. You can touch the main one if you wish. A,A,a!" You said stopping the girl as your tail wrapped around your right side. "You must be gentle as this is very hard work to maintain you know! And if you are going to pet my ears... don't touch the insides. Those are WAYY to sensitive...!" You stated giving her a slight lecture, just like how her master could do but you never knew that. 

"You're starting to sound like Master. He also has ears and a tail. He'd never let me touch his fluffy ears or tail." She stated, touching your tail slightly and she loved how fluffy your tail was! Maybe it could even be fluffier than her masters. "Hope you're enjoying yourself. I rarely let anyone touch it. Also who's this master of yours? He sounds interesting. I doubt he's a Yokai or kitsune like me. I never heard of anyone managing to leave Inazuma with ears and a tail." You stated being honest towards the girl. Petting the fox in the middle of your lap while the other two brought back flowers. They both managed to somehow get a Nilotpala Lotus in full bloom and a Kalpalata Lotus, which hangs on cliffs. "Oh! I'm pretty sure he's like you. A species or idk how you may call it... but he's a hybrid of a fox species." They replied enjoying your tail and how warm it was. That day it was slightly more cold than it usually is so this definitely helped her warm up. 

"He sounds interesting... I haven't met a hybrid yet. I actually only know if illuminated beasts from Liyue and Yokai from Inazuma. So he definitely peaked my interest." You said, wondering how the male looked like. Assuming he worked for the Akademiya... you pondered which Darshan he was in. "What's illuminated beasts?" She asked, looking up at you with a slightly confused expression. "They are like inazuman Yokai. Ones that only reside within liyues borders." You responded back seeing as she had stopped petting your tail. "Is something the matter Collei? Did you hurt yourself?" You asked seeing her confused expression on her face. "Ah no nothings wrong! I'm just worried Master might be worried about where I am and may be trying to find me." She said, fidgeting with her fingers at the moment feeling slightly embarrassed if she did get found by her master. "Actually collei can I ask you a question?" "Yes Y/N you can. What is it?" "I'm wondering who this 'Master' is, you said they're similar to me." "Oh yeah I did! Well if I remember correctly he's a Fennec Fox hybrid." "A fennec fox hybrid..? Did he adjust to the forest?" "Yes he did. He can't tolerate the desert very much because of this adaptation."'

"Collei here." You stated bringing your bag from nowhere. Grabbing an accessory for her to take. "Pick one that you like." You told her, holding up 5 pieces of different accessories. "Do you want the purple bolt or the pink sakura hairpin? You can have this Amethyst necklace choose one to take." "Wow! Really Y/N?" She stated ecstatic about the accessories. "I'm sure of it. You helped me enough." You letted out a laugh at her face, eyes covered by sparkles while her smile glistened. "Hmm.. can I have the Amethyst necklace?" "Of course you can I did say you could take it, did I not?" You replied with sight sass in a joking way. "Thank you so much! I rarely get gifts!... Uhm... can you help me put it on?" "Yes I can indeed." Both of you letted our laughs seemingly to become close friends already, within 30 minutes of meeting one another. You truly had a friendly and caring aura. 

Upon tracking colleis slight scent of berries he found her with a stranger... they seemed to be close and he figured you were a visitor. Eyeing you and her both seeing she had a new necklace. Watching as collei braided your hair, using little pieces to make one that'd go across your hair, using the pink Sakura to hold it in place with the purple thunderbolt on the front as a hairpin. His ear flicked and his tail wagged slowly at the sight. Happy collei didn't get hurt since she didn't return earlier. Upon inspection with his eyes, he saw you also had 2 ears and a tail. Similar to his. Unlike him your ears were always folded down but long nonetheless. With a super fluffy tail. 

"Is that master?" You asked sensing a presence nearby that made you wary. "It is. That's master Tighnari, he's the chief forest ranger in the Avidya forest." She stated looking at the way she came from seeing her mentor. "Alright that puts me more at ease then. All the foxes that were with you two were on your and colleis laps. Both of you putting them down and watched as they went towards Tighnari. Collei held onto your arm gently, guiding you up to meet the fennec fox hybrid. Making sure you both didn't slip or fall on anything as you went. "Collei, what did I say about not returning on time?" He asked sternness lacing his voice. Focused on collei. "Uh sorry master Tighnari! I made a new friend with Y/N here! She even gave me this Amethyst necklace! She's also from Inazuma and a type of Yokai, she's also a fox hybrid like you!" She stated, seeming to be very happy to have gotten to know you, her direction if core went towards you, a smile on her face and a hand on her upper body. 

"Greetings Master Tighnari or Tighnari depending on which you want me to call you. I'm Y/N, younger sibling of Yae, 2nd main shrine maiden and chief editor." You said, mimicking what collei had did recently. "So to get this Straight. You're like me?" He asked, pointing at his face."Indeed I am, I'm a kitsune a fox Yokai. Collei told me what you had taught her about us and I must say you do an excellent job at teaching. The little things she said are indeed true." 

"That's good to know, I've been told I'm a great teacher and listener by many of my trainees." He admitted. "Anyways I'm Tighnari, if it's your first time here you can take this book. I'd specifically recommend to read the mushroom chapters first. Unless you want up to end like those mindless adventurers everyday who eat anything. Even if it screams 'Don't eat me! I'm poisonous!'. I don't understand those brainless lummoxes." He said, sass brimming through his voice. "Don't worry I did research before coming here and I have a first aid kit and food on me. I should be fine. I'll be honest, I was hoping I'd run into a forest ranger. Glad I met collei. Also can you tell me a little bit about your Culture and plants if you may? I'm helping my sister out by getting more material for stories and magic." You explained, stating one of the few reasons why you traveled here. "Actually can you take a look at my sketchbook, please let me know if I put any symptoms wrong." You asked. Looking at collei and showing her a little trick. 

"You see this collei? A floating Sakura right. *Poof* Now it became a lighting kitsune / fox!" You stated, as the Sakura changed in less than a blink of an eye. Leaving her in awe, waiting for Tighnari to tell if you did anything wrong. "Hmm... all of this seems good Y/N I don't see any errors in your writing and I must say your sketches are really beautiful. The latest one looks super close to the actual one." He stated looking at the scenery around you three. "Oh thank you Tighnari! I actually rarely get any compliments about my drawings. They always say to color it in then it'll be impressive!" You said with irritation, the bitterness of their tone on your tongue. 

Using your hands to mock them before turning your head away slightly up. "I ought to show them what art is..." *mumbling* "Then they'll know true illustrations are beautiful in bountiful ways!" Slight agitation towards them showed through. Tail flicked in annoyance along with one of your ears. "Y/N it's okay! They'll learn eventually..." Collei stated trying to cheer you up. "Ik they will. It's just I wish they knew beforehand." Reassuring the teenager. 

"Anyways. Do you need a place to stay Y/N you can come to ghandharva ville with us. I can also teach you what I know about culture while you can learn about our plants." Tighnari offered. "Are you sure I won't be a bother? I wouldn't want to get in the way of your work and duties and-" "Rest assured you can. Now stop being a worrywart. You can come with me to my home. I can sleep on the couch and you can have the bed alright?" He stated. Finally giving his attention to the foxes around you. 

"No no! You can have the bed! I can take the couch it's your home and I'm just a guest!" You replied showing worry for him again. "You can take the bed I really don't mind Y/N." "If you say so.." "also I must admit I'm curious in your species. If I teach you about plants and culture may you reach me about Kitsunes or other yokai?" "Uhm... sure! Yeah! People from other nations are always slightly scared of me since they mistake me for Miko and/or hasn't seen a Yokai. I'm glad you both aren't scared by my presence." You stated, tail slightly wagging and the rest of your tails popped up. All 5 of them wagged in unison. "Y/N may I ask you what hair products you use for your tail or ears? They all seem to be really cared for- Not that I mean you didn't take care for it!" 

"Don't worry I understand, keeping one tail on high maintenance is enough. Me and Miko struggle with our tails a lot. I use these natural oils."  The products floating out of the bag and into Tighnaris hands. Allowing him to see what you used. "Oh! I can't forget about my best brush here's what it looks like if you're interested in getting it." Grabbing the brush and holding it up for him and his hands had the care products. Collei stared at the products uninterested in them as she didn't have tail/s or ears. Proceeding to write down in her notepad.

"Alright we should start heading back. If we don't return soon they may just wreak havoc among the plants in the Avidya forest. Just like kids on too much candy." He stated walking ahead, "we gotta dash collei! Don't run though!" You stated seeing as she finished in her notepad. Upon catching up with Tighnari, you were in awe as you looked around you seeing many beauitful sights all around. "Is that a statue of the seven?" "Indeed it is!" Collei stated chatting with you along the way on the path towards their homes. 

"Oh they're both coming back! But who is that lady adorned in Inazuman clothing?" Rana stated seeing the 3 of you on the path. "I don't know." Someone stated seemingly not interested. "I found collei near the chasm. Where she made a new friend. Her name is Y/N and comes from Inazuma. She's a fox Yokai from there and she'll be staying with me for the time being." Tighnari explained to the trainees as all three of you made it to the threshold of the ville. "Alright!" They stated understanding Tighnari. 

"Alright collei do you want to come with me to my house or are you going to go to your house?" Tighnari asked the green haired Teenager. "I'll go to yours for a bit. I want to know more about Y/N! I'm curious about them too Master." She stated looking up towards you briefly before craning her view towards Tighnari. "Alright. Let's go it's this way." He stated greeting multiple forest rangers on the way or residents. "Okay so Y/N it's currently 4pm. Do you want to learn today or start tomorrow? Also are you exhausted from the trip? Any pains or numbness? I'm asking since I'm sure you're at least a little tired from the traveling." "I can start today, I'm not too tired out to fall asleep so hard that I can't wake up. I am slightly exhausted but no pain anywhere beside well my feet since traveling." You stated mimicking a few words he had just told. 

"Alright why don't you tell us more about your Yokai first? We are both very curious after all and we know a lot about plants so I or her can tell you afterwards." He stated sitting on the floor along with collei. "Sure! I don't mind." You responded sitting on the floor with the two. "Kitsune or Fox envoyes are people who can live up to thousands of years. Each tail they gain is a symbol for them living 100 years. If you can guess my age is over 500. 546 to be exact and my sister is 550 years old. Meaning we get 5 whole tails. The amount of tails also symbolizes how much power we have. For clarification, each 100 years and tail our power grows stronger with age. I have more capabilities than I used to in my first few 100s. For example I can teleport,summon foxes, use magic,summon,perform exorcism, create thunderbolts or Sakura. I can do more but I doubt you're that interested in those." You stated seemingly finished and waiting for questions.

"Thank you Y/N for that information now do you want to know about plants? Or culture first." "Plants please, I can use them for stories! Oh and their healing properties." "Okay then. So the Nilotpalas Lotus healing properties..." 

*Timeskip bc idk healing stuff WOOO-)*

"Tighnari are you sure you don't want the bed? Idm having the couch." You stated as it was now 10pm and collei went home around  an hour ago. "Y/N it's all good I'll be fine you're making It seem like I'm gonna have someone break into my house." "Alright alright! I get it... Anyways Goodnight Tighnari!" You stated as he left the room going to the couch. It feels weird in a different persons house and bed. But it does smell like him so that can be comforting. I never knew one could smell so much like Nature till I met him. His scent is slightly interesting... Oh Y/N stop it with these thoughts you need to go to sleep! Don't think about cuddling sessions yet!! You just met that guy! You mentally scolded yourself as your thoughts got the best of you. 

Although it does sound fun... having someone groom my tail or tails while I do theirs is something I rarely do.. I used to with Miko but were both busy with work.. You hit yourself in the head with a pillow trying to stop the thoughts and fall into deep slumber. After around 30 minutes you fell asleep. Using your tail as extra warmth for your body's as the moons glow brightened your skin. 

[clarissaexplainingitall]

oh yeah for anyone curious how the budgie is going:

we have been experimenting with different flavors of music. so far, they like fleetwood mac, smash mouth, shakira, only some of the elden ring soundtrack. making a playlist for when i have to be out of the house

we have finally begun to consistently step up, though they really do not enjoy me moving my arm while they're perched so we're working on it. still, this is extremely good, considering how long it can take some of them to get over clipping trauma. vet is next week so hopefully that doesn't set us back

i have tried at least five distinct methods of encouraging bathing and instead we choose to scream with a face covered in [currently] cherry stains about it being itchy. well you dumb cute bird there's wet leaf and shallow dish and also mist bottle. pick one of those or messy face. (occasionally wet leaf is acceptable provided i am not watching, so i'm hoping we warm up to the concept. i'd try running water but without flight feathers i worry about re-traumatizing with handling)

this is also more challenging bc beast is baby-molting face feathers and will not let me help with the pins yet but neither am i permitted to help mist them to make them easier to preen so instead we have opted to Loudly Complain about it

when they sleep they pull one little foot in and i die every time from how fucking cute it is

we have adopted a habit of chatting softly to ourself when it is nearly time for bed, and then we get on our little swing and chirp insistently until the shark bedsheet is appropriately draped and it is. again, the cutest thing possible

we fucking DESPISE the sounds made by the bears in stormveil in ER. same, little dude

aunt got them a shredding toy with a little bell and i need to ask where because that shit is a lifesaver. instead of screaming on my zoom calls now we just talk to Shred Toy With Bell and ring it. but the sheer volume of the bell cannot remotely compete with flock calling so it is just easier for everyone

speaking of flock calling, i got a quarantine cage and will be assembling that this week so as soon as shelter has budgie 2 (or budgies 2 and 3) operation acquire a friend is so literally a go

[thomashoes]

Thinking about.... Beta Thoma VS. Canon Thoma

Note: so... i know i havent posted for weeks now and it was bc of a certain incident that caused me to relapse and almost went back to my bad habits BUT no worries im doing great now lol. this.....has been running around my brain for like MONTHS but i just couldnt figure out how to write it lol but here it is. Enjoy!

Thoma x fem!Reader

established relationship, implied sexual content, getting high on shrooms

mentioned childe

kamisato ayato and thoma being slighty ooc

It was a rather normal day in the Kamisato Estate despite everything that has happened in Inazuma. After the Vision Hunt Decree and Sakoku Decree were abolished, the nation slowly adapted to the new “lifestyle”. The Yashiro Commission’s retainer was peacefully sweeping on the estate’s grounds, humming with every swing of his arms as the birds chirped along with him.

It was general knowledge to the people of Inazuma Thoma has actually been neglecting his work as the Kamisato Estate’s retainer for the past months since he was taken away by the Tenryou Commission during the Vision Hunt Ceremony. The experience scared Thoma of course, losing one’s Vision meant losing a part of yourself. Thankfully, he was saved by the Traveler… and his now lover.

As embarrassing as it sounded, Thoma’s lover was one of the people who protected and saved him from having his Vision taken. However, since she saved him this also meant that she was being hunted down by the military, yet that did not stop her from providing help for the Traveler while taking care of him.

“I refuse to watch another person I care about take a fall because of some stupid law their leader made!” was what she screamed at his face after they downed 3 bottles of sake in the Komore Teahouse one night. The blond fixer sighed and shook his head to clear his mind from his lover. It has been a week since she went with the Traveler to Tsurumi Island because she wanted to research about a mushroom that only grows there, so it’s safe to say that Thoma missed her.

Thoma looked around the area to double check if he missed any spots or if the bushes needed some trimming. The bushes don't look like it needs trimming but it does look a bit thirsty. Other than that, everything seems to be all good. Thoma thought to himself as he put aside the broomstick and picked up the watering can to fill it with water for the plants and flowers.

While waiting for it to be filled, he heard a familiar high-pitched voice coming from the gates of the estate, “But how do we explain to Thoma what happened? We can’t just say that she ate the mushroom without enough knowledge of what it might be!”

This caught his attention and he turned the water off and swiftly headed to the gates where he saw the blond Traveler and his flying companion standing outside the premises. They seem to be in a heated argument but what really took his attention is his lover slumped against the Traveler. Without greeting them, Thoma rushed to his lover’s side and hastily checked for any injuries.

“Traveler, what happened? Were you attacked by rifthounds at Tsurumi Island? I-I don’t see any injuries on her but I can’t be sure she isn’t suffering from the corrosion,” Thoma immediately interrogated him. Aether quickly raised his hands in defense and in an attempt to calm him down, “A-Actually, what happened was that she uhh took a bite of a Fluorescent Mushroom before we decided to return here.” he explained to Thoma.

The retainer looked at the Traveler, blinked, then looked at Paimon, who looked embarrassed while she laughed nervously, before he moved his gaze back to Y/N. His mind would usually be running wild with what to do in this situation, but this… This actually did not surprise him but that didn’t mean he was prepared for it.

Y/N began to groan and slowly lifted her head, her eyes meeting Thoma’s. She squinted her eyes for a moment before she let out a huge grin, “Oh my Archons, it’s my favorite boy!” she exclaimed before she wrapped her arms around his neck for a hug, almost knocking them both down.

Thoma returned her hug with a chuckle and looked back at Aether, “I hope she wasn’t much trouble during your trip, but thank you for bringing her back safely, Aether. I can take it from here, you and Paimon get some rest now.” he stated heartily. They all exchanged goodbyes before Thoma led Y/N to a guest room, ignoring the bewildered faces of the other staff and the amused look on the Yashiro Commissioner’s face.

When they arrived at the guest room, Thoma made Y/N sit on the chair and asked her to stay put while he arranges her futon so she can rest. He worked in silence for a minute before Y/N decided to speak, “You know, I think I’m seeing things.” she slurred as she leaned against the wall. Thoma didn’t look back and just continued his work, “Oh yeah, what made you say that?” he mused with a chuckle.

His lover groaned as if she was annoyed by something, “I’m saying that because I see two of you right now.” she practically whined at him. Thoma didn’t answer her immediately as if trying to figure out what to say while fluffing a pillow for her.

“What did I tell you about eating mushrooms you find in forests?” he chastised her as he grabbed the duvet he prepared next to him. Instead of getting an answer from her, she growls at someone, “What are you looking at, asshole?”

Quickly turning around to look at her in shock, he finds her glaring at the door frame, clearly angry at someone standing there. “My, my, is that how you treat the owner of the house? I thought your brothers would have taught you better than that.” the other person said cheekily.

Thoma then looked at the door where the voice came from and saw the head of the clan, Kamisato Ayato, leaned against the sliding door. “But then again, did your brothers even take care of you?” he teased. Y/N looked like she was about to bite his head off but she quickly shook her head and looked at Thoma with tears in her eyes. “I don’t like him. He looks like you but he doesn’t act like you. He’s more annoying that freaking Childe,” she whined to him as she stumbled her way to Thoma.

He reached out to her and assisted her to lay on the futon, trying to get her to calm down. “Hey, it’s okay, he isn’t real. There is no one else here that looks like me, okay?” Thoma whispered to her while he brushed stray hair away from her face. Y/N pouted at him with glassy eyes, “But he’s right there! He’s so mean! I don’t like him, but he looks like you,” she complained to Thoma.

“Listen to your lover, dear. Everything is all in your head, I’m not real. I am simply a figment of your imagination, sweetheart.” Ayato teased even more and moved to sit on the chair Y/N previously occupied not before sliding the door closed. Thoma shot an annoyed look at his boss, who just smiled innocently at him. Y/N, on the other hand, looked so close to tears, “Oh my Archons, he’s gaslighting me, isn’t he? He’s definitely worse than that stupid ginger! Thoma, he’s the complete opposite of you,” she whimpered as she grabbed his hand for comfort.

Thoma shot another glare at his boss before he could make another smart answer then looked back at Y/N with a gentle smile, “You know, this wouldn’t have happened if you listened to me just once, sweetheart.” Thoma chided her while rubbing circles on her hand. This made Y/N pout at him and pulled his hand closer to her head so she could lay on it. “Now that’s the scolding I’d rather hear and not from Beta Thoma,” Y/N whispered against his hand before she placed a kiss on his knuckles, resulting in a huge red mess on Thoma’s face.

A chuckle echoed through the room after a moment of silence coming from behind Thoma, “My, my, if I didn’t know any better, I would have assumed I interrupted your honeymoon coming from this angle.”

Y/N groaned again before she sat up, narrowly missing bumping heads with Thoma, and glared at Ayato, “Listen here Beta Thoma, that’s right, I’m calling you that. You look like a rejected version of my favorite boy with light eyebrows and a personality worse than that stupid Fatui Harbinger. If you keep up with that annoying attitude, I just might make this into an actual honeymoon!” Y/N remarked aggressively.

Beta Thoma chuckled in amusement and stood up from his chair, “It seems that there really is more to your astonishing personality, sweetheart. I would wish that you continue consuming whatever you did again, but it might sign me up for a death wish,” Ayato mused as he diverted his gleaming eyes to Thoma, who was uncharacteristically glaring at him. Beta Thoma stood up and haughtily walked towards the door and slid it open but stopped all of a sudden.

Y/N kept her sharp eyes on him and Thoma looked like he just wanted to rest after this ordeal before Ayato looked back at the couple and smirked, “I will allow Thoma here to spend the rest of the day with you, sweetheart, so long as you don’t make too much loud noises.”

And with that, he left the room after he slid the door closed. Thoma let out the breath he was holding and placed his head on Y/N’s shoulder, “I really wouldn’t be surprised if I find myself jobless tomorrow.” he mumbled against her. Y/N grunted and rubbed her thumb on his knuckles, “I don’t know how Beta boy can make you jobless, but if you do, you can work with me.” Y/N whispered to him.

Thoma raised his head to look into her eyes again and sighed, “You.. You need to rest now. I’m sure the trip from Tsurumi Island all the way here was tiring, especially in your state. Next time, promise me you will not eat any more random mushrooms just because it’s in the name of research,” Thoma scolded her once more. Y/N looked at him in disbelief, “W-What, you make it sound like I would eat anything.” she whispered harshly at him.

He shook his head before he gently pushed Y/N’s head back to her pillow, “Go to sleep now, sweetheart, or I won’t be giving you any more kisses.”

And as if those were his magic words, Y/N pressed a chaste kiss on his lips before rolling over to sleep away the side effects the fluorescent mushroom had on her. Thoma stayed next to her for a while before he stood up to leave after making sure she was asleep. When he slid the door close, he heard a chuckle near him which caused Thoma to look at the person. It was Ayato, again.

“It seems that I have assumed inaccurately if you left the room after a couple of minutes. Unless, you did do it quietly and quickly,” he teased the poor blond. Thoma sighed and blushed, “My Lord, please stop it,” Thoma sighed tiredly. Ayato smiled gently at Thoma before he walked up to him, “Is it wrong for me to tease a friend when he’s been nothing but a sad man the entire week his lover has been gone?” the blue haired man joked before he shook his head. “Good to see you’re back in your top shape, Thoma.”

And with that, the head of the clan left the retainer blushing madly outside the room his lover was sleeping in. Thoma shook his head then proceeded to go back to the yard and finish his work with a smile forming on his face, he was happy Y/N returned to him safely.

Extra:

“Are you sure I didn’t say or do anything weird yesterday?” Y/N asked Thoma for the umpteenth time, she clearly did not believe a word he said. Thoma shook his head with a smile, “Nope, nothing at all, so you don’t need to worry about that.”

Y/N stared into his eyes with furrowed brows, “For some reason, I don’t believe you.” she mumbled, her eyes then diverted to her left. “Normally, I would, but that stupid blueberry over there is starting to make me think I did do something,” she remarked with distaste.

Thoma let out a nervous laugh and looked back at the clan head who was peacefully sipping his favorite drink with a mischievous gleam in his eyes before he walked away to leave them alone. He looked back at his lover and smiled meekly, “S-Sweetheart, you see…”

And Thoma spent the rest of the day listening to his lover rambling about how embarrassing and unprofessional it was of her, he can practically hear Ayato’s laugh as she rambled on.

Oh, this will take a while for her to recover, Thoma mentally mused as he smiled softly at his lover.

AAAAAAAAAHHHHH THIS TOOK TOO LONG BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT! THANK YOU FOR READING THIS!! LOTS OF LOVE FOR YOU ALL!! <3

[farfromstrange]

Foreigner's God | m.m

Matt Murdock x avenger!OFC

Chapter thirty-six: this is me trying

Read part XXXV here ° series masterlist ° main masterlist

Summary: Eliza and Matt are both trying to move on, but recovery is a lengthy process and they're both not quite there yet. Fortunately, they have each other and as he holds her hand, she's more than willing to hold his so they can both get out of the woods together.

Warnings: Slight angst with hurt/comfort, Fluff, domesticity, established relationship, SEMI-SMUT (male receiving oral) 18+ MINORS DNI, sub!Matt, degradation kink, use of pet names, praise kink, slight (?) cum play, Matt Murdock's never-ending masochism, religious imagery and symbolism, talks about child molestation, bullying, antidepressants, drug addiction, and depression — use of mutant powers to make Matthew see (momentarily)

Other Characters: Involuntary Therapist Paul Lantom™️

a/n: Here are the 10,000 words I removed from the last chapter and about 7,000 more. I just switched up the planned chapter titles.

POSTING THIS EARLIER THAN PLANNED BC I REACHED 200 FOLLOWERS!

And because my dear @mrs-areallygoodlawyer said I should add a certain joke into one of the chapters, I did. I’m sorry in advance, it’s cringe but I found it funny. No regrets on this one.

Eliza stirred. The faint sound of birds chirping in the distance and a cold yet gentle breeze on the already frozen tip of her nose paired with a cocoon of warmth wrapped around the rest of her body coaxed her out of the depths of unconsciousness. She wriggled some more to get her shoulder back under the blanket, thankfully succeeding, and she slowly blinked the sleep from her eyes. 

She was disoriented when she woke up, though she soon recognized the stone walls of the bedroom and the silky green sheets she was tangled in. The room smelled of Matt’s deodorant and the salt of his skin. His shampoo filled her nose with the scent of happiness hiding behind sandalwood and bath water. Brown strands of hair tickled her face from where his head rested on her shoulder. 

The air in the room grew colder with each gush of wind that brushed over their entangled bodies. The blanket barely covered Matt’s large frame - he wasn’t wearing a shirt - yet he didn’t even as much as shiver. 

He grunted, tightening his arms around her torso. “Don’t you dare,” he said, voice laced thick with sleep, hoarse and scratching in the back of his throat. His vocal cords weren’t quite awake yet, and neither was his body. His fingers drew lazy circles over the skin underneath his Columbia shirt, pulling her closer against his chest from behind. 

She smacked his forehead when his beard and hair started to tickle her skin from the constant movement and he frowned disapprovingly. He buried his face in the pillow underneath his head, repositioning the arm under her head so that her neck rested in the crook of his elbow and he could pin her head underneath his chin. 

Finally comfortable, Eliza melted into him. She almost fell asleep again, but her body had slept enough, and the ache that settled into her muscles kept her on edge. Her eyes were burning from the shed tears, dry and redder than sunburn. Her throat ached and her nostrils were raw from all the tissues she wasted. 

Matt only sleepily slurred behind her. “How’re you feelin’?” he asked. 

“Everything’s in pain,” she grunted. 

He stroked along her jaw, then over her cracked lips and her swollen eyelids, ending his journey on the bridge of her nose, smoothing out the wrinkle at the top and then continuing downward. “Anything I can do?”

Her heart fluttered. “Yeah,” Eliza said and shifted, still trapped by his arm but free enough to turn and look at him. “You can kiss me.”

Running a hand through his messy hair, he chuckled. Matt rolled them over so she rested on her back, his body hovering over hers, and the heat radiating off of him distracted her from the open window. She raked her nails over his arms before coming to rest around his neck. His eyes looked even darker after waking up, eyelashes full, and lids hooded. His cheeks were just as red as she suspected her own were. 

“Good morning,” he whispered. 

“Morning,” she whispered back. 

He dipped his head lower to brush her lips with his own. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah, this is probably the first time in a while.”

He kissed her harder this time, letting her feel all of him, though his caressing touches remained sloppy. “No nightmares?” he asked.

She keened when he scratched just the right spot on her scalp, releasing a sound that resembled a purr. “No nightmares,” she said. 

“Good,” he smiled his signature lopsided grin. His hand applied pressure to the back of her neck, loosening the muscles with his expert fingers. 

Whatever course he took to get this good with his hands, she thanked God for that.

“You’re still tense.”

“Yeah, I’m in a lot of pain.” She hissed at a particularly tender spot he hit. “My body feels like it’s on fire.”

“I could break my fingers on your shoulder blades. Baby, this feels bad. I know you said you slept better than usual, but your muscles feel like you were fucking tense the whole night.”

“That’s ‘cause I was,” Eliza admitted. “I still am. God, I’m so tired, Matt. Like, I’m so exhausted. Not just physically tired but exhausted, and even though I slept better it felt like I didn’t sleep at all. I don’t think I can move at all today and that scares me,” she said, her breathing growing shallower with each passing word. “It’s not just because I cried the whole day… I can’t move because my mind is tired, and now my body hurts too. So fucking much.”

He gave her a sympathetic look. “I know what that’s like.”

“What do I do?”

“How about I get you an ice pack to cool your eyes first?” He pressed his lips to her swollen eyelids. “They must be sore,” he said. 

“And itchy,” she stated. 

“Ice helps, trust me. I’ll get you some.”

“Thanks.”

“And then I’m gonna help you get dressed so you can have some breakfast. Your appointment is at ten, which means we should leave at either nine or nine-thirty. Zero at the end, right?” He slapped the alarm clock. 

Seven-thirteen am. 

“Hm, there’s enough time. And if it makes you feel better, we’ll get ready at eight, so it’s a full hour and you won’t have to stress.”

If she hadn’t cried all of her tears, she would have teared up again. Instead, she choked up inside, her lungs constricted with the overwhelming consideration he put in. It was remarkable that after all of this, he was still standing strong for her sake, never faltering in his attempts to make her feel better. And it worked, at least enough to make her sit up against the headboard, ignoring the soreness and the protest of her head that she just couldn’t fucking get up.

Matt pecked her lips on his way out. He slid the door open, still half-naked in the cold bedroom and she watched him tap into the living room, hand tangled in his hair as he made his way into the kitchen. 

In his still sleepy state, he almost hit his pinky toe on the living room table, missing just by an inch when he felt the couch under his fingers and took a step to the right. From then on, he guided himself on the wall until he finally reached the kitchen counter.

He brewed the coffee first so the ice pack wouldn’t go warm. Eventually, he slipped into a shirt, remaining in his boxers for the time being. Her eyes were still on him, as blurry and hurt as they were. He was beautiful, not just objectively. She loved how he moved, how he smiled, how he thought, and how he held her when the world became too much to bear. 

She didn’t realize she had fallen asleep until after someone shook her awake again. Matt’s hand was warm from the cup of coffee he held, the other that was on her thigh rested coldly with the ice pack he picked up for her. 

He smiled and she took it, rubbing her sore eyes before pressing the ice to her lids. She sighed. Her temples pulsated with every pinch of the headache that consumed her whole, but the cold made it a little more bearable. 

“How about I give you a massage now?” he suggested. 

She exhaled, “That’s too much.”

“It doesn’t bother me.”

“No, I mean, it’s too much for me. I can’t handle this much attention right now. I’m sorry.”

When she dared to peek at him, her cheeks flushed not from the open window but from embarrassment, she found him grinning back at her. “Finally,” he said. 

“What?”

“You just told me what you want.”

“Oh, that. I’m sorry?” she said.

He instantly grabbed her head, eyes stern with the disapproval. “No, not sorry. It’s a good thing. I was waiting for you to learn how to say no, especially to me.”

“Viktor never let me say no.”

Eliza timed the exact moment his fist tightened around the soft flesh of her thigh. His jaw clenched and the anger in his eyes burned bright. He was about ready to grab his suit, return to SHIELD and kill the man himself. 

“I mean, Mueller didn’t care, he just took what he wanted, but Viktor punished me every time I dared to say no to him, and whenever I would cry, he’d add to his punishment and make it so much worse. The scars,” she pointed over her shoulder, “They’re proof of that.”

“Sweetheart…” Matt sighed. He wasn’t sure if he could touch her face, so he stopped his hand mid-air and dropped it back in his lap. 

“So I stopped crying. I stopped saying no because tears are a weakness, y’know? He told me that weapons don’t weep and that deserved his punishment. I let him touch me, partially because I was afraid of the consequences if I didn’t, and partly because I thought it was normal. I thought men did this to all the kids, that it was just a thing fathers did to their daughters to show their appreciation – the lingering touches, and the sleepovers,” she said. 

He nodded. “And that’s why you thought you had to let me have my way with you the other night, so I wouldn’t be mad at you?” he questioned, even though he already knew the answer. 

Pressing the ice pack back to her eyes when a sharp pain tore through her optic nerve, she agreed silently, without words. He stroked his palm over her thigh, no longer grabbing it. 

“I’m sorry. God! I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault I’m damaged goods.”

“Stop calling yourself that.”

“But it’s true. The men I’ve been with usually didn’t care about what I had to say, but I still went along with it. I feel so filthy now, and stupid for letting it happen. I feel stupid that I was so self-centered and careless that I screwed everything up, even myself.” 

“You’re not. You’re not filthy.” He rubbed his face. “I wish I could take this weight off your shoulders, believe me, but I don’t know how. I doubt I even can.”

“God, no! You don’t want that,” she said. “You asked me plenty if I’m okay with the things you wanted to do, and I was okay with them because, with you, I feel comfortable. I can surrender my body to you and not feel like I’m being used. It’s just hard to articulate what I need sometimes, what I want or do not want, because I’m afraid there might be consequences if I do.”

“Sweetheart, there is no one that has the right to punish you for having an opinion about your own body,” he said, his eyes softening to the point she wondered if he was even real. “You have a voice. You are allowed to use that to speak your mind. You won’t be punished here for saying what you want or don’t want, and if someone dares to even touch you, I will cut their hands off with a dull knife.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Weird flex, but okay.”

“Matthew 18:8,” he told her. “And if your hand or your foot causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away. It is better for you to enter life crippled or lame than with two hands or two feet to be thrown into the eternal fire.”

“Do you have a bible verse for everything?” she asked, more for shits and giggles than anything else.

“Yeah,” he said. “I memorized the whole thing as a kid because I had already read all of the books they kept on the shelves at the orphanage.”

That took a dark turn. “Oh. Didn’t you have friends?” 

He chuckled as if she had just told him the funniest joke the century had to offer. “Me? No,” Matt said. “No one wanted to play with me when I was a little kid. They shoved me and bullied me because I was different. No one wanted to play with the blind kid out of fear they would damage me, and when I turned into a book nerd, they started laughing at me for it.”

She nudged him. “Kids can be cruel, huh?” she said. 

“Yeah, you have no idea.”

“You didn’t deserve any of that,” she gently brushed his hair back, “and I’m sorry no one was there for you when you needed help.”

“No, it’s fine, water under the bridge. I dealt with it. Besides, this isn’t about me,” he said. “It’s about you.”

“I was molested as a little girl and that scarred me for life. You were constantly bullied. We’re both a bit fucked up,” she said.

“I guess you’re right, but-“

“Don’t downplay your trauma, Matthew.” Her eyes laid firmly on him. “You suffered through a life-altering accident as a kid, then your father died and you lived in an orphanage for the rest of your adolescence. That is trauma, and I would know. I’m the definition of a walking trauma bundle.” Eliza took a deep breath. “There is a lot more where that comes from, believe me, and also a lot more baggage to hate about me.”

“Eliza, what the hell happened to you to make you think like this?” Matt sighed when she only fluttered her eyelashes at him, “Actually, don’t answer that,” he said. “If I learn one more thing about what that disgusting human being did to you and the other children in the White Room, I’m gonna grab my suit and make sure he suffocates in his cell. SHIELD wouldn’t be able to stop me.” 

The coffee spilled over the brim of his mug when he slapped it down on the nightstand. She had to physically pry him away from cleaning up the mess. Eliza called his name softly. “Matt…”

“That man deserves to be treated like a fucking canine. He deserves to rot in jail for the rest of his miserable life, somewhere in the middle of the ocean with a straight jacket on to make sure his hands never touch another innocent child ever again. I should kill him for what he did to you, Eliza. Viktor Volkov deserves to die.”

She kissed him to shut him up. “Stop,” she said against his lips. “Stop torturing yourself.”

“But he hurt you,” he growled. “No one is allowed to hurt you. What he did wasn’t fair. You were helpless.” 

“But people will continue hurting me, it’s human nature. If you killed everyone who ever hurt me or is about to hurt me, there would be only half of the population left,” she said, chuckling slightly. She wasn’t sure why she found this so tragically funny. “What I’m saying is, there will always be someone who holds a grudge against me. I chose the life of an Avenger and that got me a lot of enemies in the process, not to mention the things that I did in the past. You can’t always protect me, and that’s okay,” she said. “Because I can protect myself. If you break your moral code… you can’t come back from something like that. I know it because I used to kill people for a living.”

Matt shook his head, determined to prove his point, but there was not a single one she could find. “You didn’t do it on purpose. I want to kill him for the sake of killing him,” he stated. “Maybe that’s the kind of man I am…” he lowered his head enough to hide the sheen of tears that had laced his eyes. “Maybe I was just trying to steer off the inevitable by putting on that suit and the mask and trying to enforce justice with my fists instead of doing the one thing that would draw a line under all of that.”

Eliza’s hands found him again, quivering, desperate to make him listen to anything other than what the little demon inside of his head had to say. 

“Maybe this is what God cursed me to be. I mean, I’m going to hell anyway. My grandma used to say, be careful of the Murdock boys,” he said, “they got the devil in ‘em. You know, maybe she was right. I’ve long been thinking about it and my father… he’d be turning in his grave if he saw the choices I’ve made ever since he died. I screwed up everything he left me and then I ran. I always do that. And I don’t know why I blamed you for pushing me away when I would’ve done the same in a heartbeat as a chance to protect you from getting hurt by me.” He gnawed at his bottom lip. “We are so alike and I’m so sorry. I should have never doubted you and I shouldn’t have listened to you when you told me to leave. I knew this would happen.” 

“Matt, no,” she stopped him before he could make it worse on himself. 

“It’s true.”

“No. Stop saying that,” she said, “I know your father would be so proud of you. If he were here right now… if Jack Murdock would be standing here right now, he’d hug you and he’d tell you how much he loves you. And he’d see the man you grew up to be and he’d love you all the more because you’re strong. You didn’t let the demons destroy you. Instead, you tamed them and used them to your advantage. Your father loved you, so he wouldn’t even think twice about being proud of you, he just would be.”

Her words made sense while at the same time, they didn’t. He didn’t want them to be. Matt sneered. “Right, of course, because I’m the kind of son a father would be proud of,” he spat. “Someone who beats up criminals and abandons his friends and faith for a chance to be right.”

“Listen to me! You’re a good man,” she told him. “You might be damaged, but who isn’t? I know what it feels like to hate yourself to the point all you want to do is turn into someone else. My father died before I could tell him I forgive him and you told me he loved me, so he forgives me. Take your own words to heart, Matthew, because they matter something to you too. And your father loves you, even in death. He died for you. That means something,” she said, “and he’d do it again if he were here. You’re his son. You’re his legacy. He wanted the best for you and you got it. You made something out of yourself. Don’t throw that away for a chance to kill a man who doesn’t deserve to live. Sure, he doesn’t, but he also can’t die.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Eliza!” Matt ruffled his hair. “Why do you have to be so… so fucking supportive even when you’re the one who's breaking apart?”

“Because I love you!” She desperately clung to his wrists. “You know I do, so you know I’m telling the truth. I love you,” she said, pulling down where their foreheads could meet, “and I’m not going anywhere.”

He heaved, leaning into her touch. “Goddamnit,” he growled.

“I know what it’s like to want someone dead, so believe me when I say that I understand. I tried to kill him. I tried to take Viktor’s life in return for everything he did to me, for everything he destroyed and took away from me. I thought I didn’t have a choice. To get rid of his hands on me, I had to get rid of him, but that’s not true. Even if I had killed him, I’d still feel this way and I still would if you killed him for me.”

“But it’d make the world a better place.”

“While that might be true, do you wanna know why I didn’t kill him?” He nodded. “I heard your voice in the back of my head telling me not to because death is too kind for him,” she said. “You’re not that type of person, Matt. God didn’t curse you to be a killer. If you want to believe he got you into a blinding accident for a reason, it is to help people, not hurt them. You’re saving this city every fucking day; a person with only darkness and hatred in their heart could never do that. You are better than Viktor, you’re better than Hydra or SHIELD and you’re much better than the person I used to be. So don’t. Don’t break your moral code because of me, because you think you have to fix this. Don’t betray your faith because you feel guilty for something that was entirely out of your control. You’re too kind at heart, you wouldn’t survive that.”

He nuzzled his nose against hers. “What if you’re wrong?” he asked. “What if there is even the smallest sliver of a chance that my grandma might be right? That I got the Devil in me and that I can’t exorcise him because it’s genetics. Even though I know my father was a good man,” he said, “I saw what happened to him in the ring. Sometimes, his eyes would just go blank, like he was being controlled by a higher power. And he’d continue to beat the absolute crap out of his opponent.”

“But that doesn’t happen when you fight,” she argued.

“How do you know? I wear a mask.”

“I know you, Matthew.”

“Do you, really? I think only God knows what I’m supposed to become, and I’m starting to believe his intentions aren’t all too kind, that he wants me to fail and become the villain because destroying good things that come my way is just who I am. Your life went downhill from the moment I tried to stop you on that roof three weeks ago. Foggy’s life got turned upside down and now he’s stuck with me in a law office that doesn’t make money, burned by me being Daredevil and Karen… Fisk almost got to them and it’s all my fault. I destroy everything and everyone in my path. If that is not something the devil would do, I don’t know what is.”

The frustration wrapped around her like plastic foil. Eliza grunted. Her palms pressed to his skull tighter, erasing all possibilities to exit, and she opened her heart to him. She opened the door she had kept on her soul, on the burning red gem waiting in the core of her being, sustaining her like the beating organ pumping blood inside of her chest did. 

Her eyes glowed red. It felt so good, no longer draining but powerful, and she felt no regrets. 

“Matthew, look at me!” she ordered.

He shook his head. “No. Don’t show me my father and make him tell me I’m gonna be okay,” he told her. “I couldn’t handle that.”

Reality had changed around him, he could feel the shift in the air and the tingling under his skin. She reached for him, tugging at all the strings to his soul, to his perception and she lured him into the spell of crimson need. 

“It’d be a lie,” he said.

She huffed. “That’s not what I’m doing. Open your eyes and look at me!”

“Fucking hell, what-“ he stopped. The world stopped. His breathing stopped. His heart stopped.

His life stopped.

Matt swore he died. He passed away and went to heaven, regained his eyesight, and ended up in paradise, the garden of Eden, God’s castle. He was dreaming, his mind mixing up the imaginary pictures he kept stored away in case he needed to pretend he was okay, normal, just for a moment. This couldn’t be real. He stopped existing. He died and vanished into dust, disappearing to another terrestrial world existing at the same time as the one she resided in.

She played with the hairs at the nape of his neck, letting her hands wander over his back and pulling him even closer. “Hi,” she whispered.

Tears sprung into his eyes. He touched her face and traced the features that were now a clear picture before him. He ran his finger along her lips, her jawline, the soft hairs of her brows, and then lastly, her actual hair. 

She told him once she wouldn’t do it, but she couldn’t help herself. He needed something good, and perhaps this would help him to believe again, just for a moment. It was the first time she actively used her powers again and while it felt good, the power that ran through her veins was almost terrifying. She saw what she could do. What if she hurt him? But she wouldn’t. She couldn’t.

She held him, loved him, and gently held him in her open arms. He was all she needed and all she would ever need. 

“You’re real,” he breathed.

“I’m real,” she said.

“Oh… God.” 

He couldn’t help but pray. Surely, this was all a dream.

“Am I anything like you imagined me to be?”

“Oh, no. Fuck, no! You’re so much better, sweetheart.” He swallowed the needy sob. “You’re so damn beautiful. I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe you’re doing this for me. I can’t believe… Jesus. Hi,” he said and upon feeling her smile, he chuckled. “Hi, sweetheart.” 

Eliza caught his tears, wiping them away, her fingers gentle as she did so. “I love you so much,” she whispered. 

His eyes roamed her face, not daring to move away until he memorized every last crevice in her skin. If her face was already this beautiful, he could only fathom what she would look like underneath all of that.

“Don’t cry.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it. You’re making me see,” Matt sniffled, “That’s so… I don’t know what to say. God, fuck! What is happening to me?” 

“You don’t have to say anything,” she assured him. “Because I’m here. This is real.” 

He wanted to speak regardless of his loss for words. “I can’t even… Ugh! You told me you didn’t want me to see your face, so why-”

“You needed it. You needed something to hold onto.”

“You… fuck, can I just… Can I kiss you?”

Eliza nodded. He dipped his head and captured her lips. She sighed contently at the gentle caress, his hand resting on her throat and she held his wrist right there. 

She heard him murmur against the skin of her lips, “This feels so much more intense now.”

“In a good or bad way?” she questioned.

In response, he kissed her again. “Good,” he said. “So fucking good. I don’t want this to stop, ever.”

“It has to, eventually.”

“I know, but for now, just… Let us stay like this. Let me look at your face for a while.”

“Okay,” she nodded, “we can do that.” 

Time was a construct anyway. 

She laid down, resting on her side and he mirrored her exact position. His hand remained in her hair, stroking it. Her heartbeat rang in his ears. He couldn’t get over how her skin felt while he could look at her. The way her eyes fluttered whenever he brushed her sensitive lips or her throat and the desperate sigh that passed them when he cradled her reddened cheeks in his hand. While her features were set in stone from the tension, she relaxed visibly at his touch and it was visible in the fading crease between her eyebrows, the wrinkle of worry disappearing for only just a moment. 

He felt her features before, but nothing could have prepared him for this, and he hadn’t been able to open his eyes and see for so long, he forgot how overwhelming the world could be. If he saw the city, he would surely die. She was the only view he needed and when she would let go later, he would keep her face in his mind so every time he touched her, he could imagine what she looked like. It was a huge gift with an even bigger meaning. A gift he wouldn’t have asked for, she just did it for him and he had never felt more loved. 

Matt chuckled, a lonely tear sliding down his cheek. He was so goddamn grateful. His struggle with faith didn’t matter when he had the greatest source of hope right next to him, willing to hold on for both of us even when she was hurting. She gave back what he gave her. No one had ever done that before, not for him at least.

“I love you so much,” he whispered. “You have no idea how much. I don’t just love you, I’m in love with you. I’m so deep in it, I don’t think I could get out even if I tried.” 

“Eh, I got a faint idea,” Eliza smiled her brightest smile, the one that could easily outmatch the sun and made every room light up with her presence.

He traced his fingers over her features again. “Will you stay?” he asked. 

She kissed the tip of his nose and he scrunched, chuckling softly at the display of affection. His forehead moved to press against hers again. “Always,” she said. 

“Cross your heart?”

“Hope to die,” she finished, drawing a cross right over the left side of her chest.

He snorted, pulling at her hair slightly. “Don’t say that,” he said. 

“Isn’t that how the phrase goes though?”

“Yeah, but we don’t hope to die.”

“Right… too soon?”

“A bit, yeah.” He scrunched his nose again. 

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Matt answered by pulling her into his side and tangling their lips as he did their limbs. To breathe, moved away only enough so he could inhale and exhale, his minty breath hitting her face. She smiled, a genuine one and the sight of it was even better than he imagined, too. His hands trailed over her sides before coming to rest on her shoulder blades. 

Her shirt had bunched up slightly, bare skin touching his. The connection was so strong, he could feel it in every muscle and nerve. They screamed her name repeatedly, chanting it, praying as if she was the mercy God granted him. She was an Angel sent from heaven above, and he was the devil of Hell’s Kitchen who had once been an Angel too, and to her, he still was. He was pure at heart, no matter how much he liked to deny it. 

One of his fingers ghosted over her hip. She shoved him away gently. “I see what you’re doing,” she hummed.

“I do too now,” he retorted. The smirk resting on his lips seemed almost content. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know what I look like naked?”

“Perhaps,” Matt shrugged, “or perhaps I just want to feel your skin like this.”

“You want me to take my shirt off?” she asked, the question intended as innocent. “To touch my skin, I mean.”

He shook his head, removing his hand to return to her face. “I’m not spoiling the surprise that is feeling you up with my senses only.”

“So we just lie here?” 

“Yeah, we just lie here.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” 

He loved her so much and he kept telling her that, even long after her eyes returned to their normal color and his vision faded into scolding fire and nothing to make out.

She was gone, but he didn’t care because the picture lingered and he could still feel her. She was a part of him and his fingers knew her body inside and out. He didn’t need to see her to know she was beautiful, and it made him love her no less. 

“I don’t know how I deserve you,” he whispered into the cold morning air. “I don’t know why you’re here, but I know I don’t ever want this to stop. I want to be the right man for you, if I can. Maybe if I try hard enough…”

“Hey, you don’t have to sell me on reasons to want you,” Eliza interrupted him, gentle hands touching his skin as always.

Always. She would stay, always.

“You don’t have to be scared you’re not enough, Matthew. What we have is enough. It’s good. You’re good. I mean, what if it’s just you and me and that’s all we needed to be? The world could just fall away and then it’d be only the two of us. Can we try that?”

“While all of that is true,” he said, “I’m not going to stop giving you more reasons to not let me go.”

“What came before won’t count anymore.”

“We can try that.”

Asking for help isn’t the hardest part, it’s the help itself that makes you feel like you’re going through hell with no way out. Your past happens to you all over again and you’re forced to stand by, watch and deal with it. And dealing with the pain is something that scorns an already broken soul. 

They made it to Mrs. Darcy’s office with five more minutes to spare. Eliza’s feet remained glued to the asphalt, a summer breeze brushing through her hair and causing the fluffy strands at the top of Matt’s forehead to bounce. 

His hand landed on the small of her back, giving her a gentle push. “You want me to go in with you?” he asked. 

“No,” she answered. The last thing she wanted was for him to hear how fucked up she truly was. “I mean,” she realized she had answered way too fast, so she tried again, “No, I have to do this alone.”

Matt drummed against her jacket. “You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” That was a lie, but he didn’t question her about it. “You can go, I got this.”

He huffed, obviously disapproving of her choice. Still, he leaned down to peck her lips. “I love you,” he said. 

I’ve been struggling with questions of identity as of late.

I used to like who I was. It’s not every day you’re given a second chance. You gotta honor it, right?

Second chances are meant to help you do better than the first time. For Eliza, this was her third chance to turn her life around and make something out of herself. She graduated from questioning her identity to having a revelation about who she was and who she had once been. She understood everything so much clearer now and yet when she looked into the mirror, she still saw the same stranger she met seven years ago when Nick Fury handed her the new ID and her passport. 

There’s this emptiness inside me, Mrs. Darcy. It’s like there’s a hole in my soul and no matter how hard I try, I can’t fill it. Whatever connection to reality I had is just… it’s gone. You know, I like knowledge. I like knowing a lot of things, it keeps me on top of my game, but this- I know nothing about myself and it’s scaring me shitless.

She was more scared of what the truth would make of her than she was of herself, although her mental state was terrifying in itself. Every time she thought about what she had done in the name of trauma, she was left horrified. 

Eliza stared at the painting of the curly-haired, faceless woman hung up on the wall behind the leather couch Mrs. Darcy currently resided on, one leg crossed over the other, arm stretched out over the length of the backrest, and her notebook resting in her lap. 

“I’m fine,” she stated into the silence. 

The therapist shifted, not even bothering to make a secret out of her amusement. “Really?” she asked. 

“Except that I’m not,” she added then. “I’m not fine.”

“Okay.”

“I can’t keep pretending that all of this is normal. Maybe you’re right, maybe I’m traumatized, but there has to be a way to get out of this, right? There has to be a way to make the pain stop.”

“Well, there are many ways this can go, obviously,” she began to say.

“I’m not going back to rehab,” Eliza interrupted. 

“Relax. Not what I was thinking. That’s only option two,” she said. “Option one consists of two conditions.” Mrs. Darcy leaned forward to mirror her patient’s posture. “One, I’ll prescribe you a series of medications.”

“And two?”

“Therapy sessions with me four times a week and once you’re feeling better, I want you to start considering support group meetings. And I want to conduct regular drug testing, just in case.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!”

“It’s for your own good.”

“Why don’t you just admit me to the mental hospital?” she bit back. 

“Do you want to get better?” Mrs. Darcy challenged. 

“Yes, but-”

“Then you don’t have a choice.”

Eliza groaned. She was afraid this might happen. “But I don’t want to be viewed as weak,” she said. “I don’t want to be the burden everyone has to take care of. I can’t do this again. I’ve been through hell before, but this feels so much worse and it scares me. I can manipulate reality, literally. I can make a blind man see, I can create things out of nowhere and change the way the world works with just the palm of my hand. At least that’s what the story of the infinity stones dictates.”

She scoffed. “I can do all of that, but I can’t fix myself. I can’t do that and it sucks. It makes my powers useless because everything I do just feels wrong. So all of this…” she said, “It makes me feel weak and I hate feeling weak, especially when there is an indescribable power running through my veins, right under my skin, waiting to be used for good. I tried them and it felt good, but only until my mind screamed at me and then everything sucked again. I thought I understood now. Truth is, I don’t. I know nothing and that’s scary as shit. So I can’t be the weak one, not anymore. I need to learn how to be this new version of myself and I can’t be weak during that. I just can’t. That’s why I’m terrified – why I was so afraid of asking for help. I don’t want to be weak,” she stated.

Her voice sounded like a needle on the ground of an empty and silent room with high walls and linoleum floors. Drop, ping, echo. 

Her leg bounced in the same rhythm. Nails dug into the fabric of her jeans, pulling at the fabric. Her fingers searched for anything she could touch or hold onto - Mrs. Darcy tilted her head. 

“You remind me so much of the scared young woman that came to me less than three weeks ago, questioning her identity.” She caught onto the familiar aspects, the behavior she had more than anticipated, and Eliza huffed once again. “You know who you are now,” she continued, “but to achieve that, you went through hell. And there is still so much left unsaid that you will have to figure out on your own now. That sucks, I agree with you, but there is a way for everything. You came to me, not the other way around because you are ready to take the hand that is offered to you. You’re ready to take the road to recovery so you can, as you said, make sure you learn how to deal with this new version of yourself. That’s not weakness, it’s strength.”

“How do you differentiate?” Eliza questioned. “How do you go about differentiating between strength and weakness? Is there a psychological guide to that or are you just trying to make me feel better?”

Mrs. Darcy smiled. “I’ve been doing this job a very long time, Liz. I know a strong person when I see one. The concept of weakness being a bad thing is a common misconception that comes with a lot of guilt, especially for those suffering from mental illness. It’s okay to be weak,” she said, “but as soon as you decide to get help when you’re feeling down, you’re already stronger than those who belittle you for it. And if you decide to let a doctor treat your condition, that is a huge display of strength that should and will be acknowledged. The question is just, will you let me help you without putting hurdles in your way?”

Eliza switched her eyes between the painting of the beautiful woman on the wall, the name of an artist she had never heard before signed at the bottom, and the therapist’s expectant face. 

“Okay,” she decided, finally. 

As hard as that choice was to make, the woman made a very convincing argument. Matt loved her, she wasn’t alone, and wanting to get better was a display of strength so she could heal from a weakness that was nowhere near self-inflicted. There was nothing to feel guilty for. 

Mrs. Darcy nodded. “Good.”

“And I’ll be better after that?” she asked. “With the medication and the therapy and the support group meetings, will I get better?”

“If you take your recovery seriously, sure.”

“What do you mean?”

“Remember how long it took for that to heal?” Mrs. Darcy answered, pointing at her covered stomach and Eliza instantly wrapped her arms around herself, the scar screaming in protest at the reminder. “At first, you didn’t take it seriously and almost got yourself hurt again,” she said. “Then, you let someone help you get better and managed to regain full physical capacity in just a couple of days…”

Eliza frowned. “And it’s the same with my head?”

“It’s the same with your head, yes. Quid pro quo. I give you medication and a very clear treatment plan and in exchange, I get your trust and cooperation to ensure your recovery goes smoothly.”

“Like physical therapy and doctor’s appointments went hand in hand?”

“Yes.”

“It’s not so different,” she whispered to herself. “And you got better.” Convincing herself was harder without the voice in her head coming to the rescue with her snarky remarks.

She missed her.

Eliza sat in silence for a moment, contemplating, thinking, and bouncing her leg like a madwoman on the border of collapse before she told the woman before her, “Okay, let’s do this.”

Mrs. Darcy extended the prescription in her hand. “We start today,” she said.

Today. 

I can’t tell you who you are or who you’re supposed to be. I can only show you who you are to everyone else. Your name is Eliza Bennett. You’re the girl who has devoted her life to saving and protecting people to seek penance for what she’s done in the past.

You have to find your inner self by working with yourself. 

Who was Eliza Bennett, really? The question still rotated inside her head. She had an answer now though. She knew what to say. 

Who was she? 

She was Alina Isolde, named after her grandmother, and the daughter of Guinevere Hunt and Anton Sokovin-Petrova. Genetically mutated through the reality stone, born like any human being, delivered to Hydra, and turned into an assassin. Saved by Natasha Romanoff, adopted by SHIELD, trained to be a spy, and then taken under Tony Stark’s wing where she became an Avenger.

Eliza Bennett was a daughter to two dead parents, a found sister, a friend and confidant, a teacher and a student, an addict, a victim, and, most importantly, she was a survivor. And through all of that, she became a lover, finally able to add a girlfriend to the list. 

Eliza Bennett was someone made out of flesh and blood. Someone with a beating heart. Thud, thud thud, thud. She was alive, she was breathing, and didn’t have to live her life in miserable loneliness anymore. She was back on her feet, right where she needed to be, and the rest of the puzzle pieces would fall in place soon enough to complete the picture. 

Long story short, she survived, and she had to give herself all the credit for that. 

“Father,” Matt’s voice echoed off the high walls of Clinton Church. He stood in the middle of the aisle, the red and blue tinted light of the colorful windows falling on his face and reflecting off his maroon glasses. 

Father Lantom stood at the front, going through the lit candles at the altar. He relit those that had gone out and removed the ones that were paid little to no attention. At the sound of his voice, he looked up and over his shoulder. 

“Matthew,” he replied with a certain element of shock in his voice. “Haven’t seen you in a while,” he said. “Are you doing alright?”

“Do you have a minute to talk?” Matt asked him. He had some time to waste and he felt the desperate need to get some things off his chest, things he couldn’t tell Eliza. He wasn’t sure how. She was going through problems of her and adding to that his crisis of faith would only make her feel guiltier. And with the pastor, he knew at least that he understood where he was coming from. 

“Do you want me to take confession?” the father asked, “Or do you want to chat over a latte?”

“If you have the time to spare, I’d take you up on that latte, if you don’t mind.”

“There’s not much to do today. Typical Monday morning. I’m sure I have an hour or two before this place starts to get crowded. Is that enough?”

“More than,” he said. 

“Okay, then. Let’s get the coffee maker running. The last time you came to me for a latte, you didn’t finish it. Perhaps you could try not to waste that expensive stuff today.”

Matt chuckled. “I wouldn’t dare.” 

They sat together in the back room, the brewing hot lattes resting on the wooden table. He scratched at the cracked porcelain, scraping off some of the lacquer that decorated the brim of the mug. 

“So,” Father Lantom prompted, “What brings you here today, Matthew?”

“The last time we sat together at this table I asked you if you believed in the existence of the Devil,” he said. “You gave me an answer that might as well have been straight from a theology book.” 

“I only told you the truth about what I believe,” he countered. 

The oxidized heat from the coffee blew over his face. “That’s not why I’m here, father. I don’t plan on asking you the same question again.”

“Then what is it?”

With a sigh that parted the milk on top of the latte and destroyed the perfectly crafted cocoa topping, Matt slid the glasses off his nose and ran a hand over his eyes. Father Lantom took note of the dark circles adorning his under eyes and the dull brown his usually bright eyes had faded into. He took a sip from his beverage, watching as the man he’s known ever since he was a kid fell apart in front of him. 

He stammered, the sounds not quite coming out and his eyes missed the mark as well. “Why,” he began. 

When he didn’t continue, he raised his eyebrows, leaning forward. “Why what?” the father asked.

“The Bible keeps stating that God is merciful. He’s portrayed as the savior of humanity,” he said and the confession opened a vent without the possibility of closing it again. The words came flowing out of him like a broken tap, bitter and poisoned, though at the same time desperate and pleading as if he wasn’t talking to the man he’s trusted since he came to the orphanage but to God himself. “He’s someone who only sees the good in people and forgives those who make mistakes for their sins,” Matt stated, “and if you seek penance for your actions, if you confess and make amends, make up for your mistakes and put your faith in him, he’ll guarantee you a spot on heaven if, and only if, you keep trying to be better for him.”

“Technically, yes,” father Lantom replied. 

“Technically? Isaiah – Therefore the Lord waits to be gracious to you; therefore he will rise up to show mercy to you. For the Lord is a God of justice; blessed are all those who wait for him. Or Lamentations – The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. They all portray him as mighty enough to forgive you even for the worst of sins, even if it breaks one of the Ten Commandments.”

“You forgot Deuteronomy,” he butted in. 

“Therefore know that the Lord your God, He is God, the faithful God who keeps covenant and mercy for a thousand generations with those who love Him and keep His commandments,” Matt recited. “No,” he said, and his voice took an even more bitter tone as he chuckled, “I didn’t forget. You know what Exodus says about protecting the innocent?” 

Of course, he did. He was the pastor, after all. He ran the church. He helped raise the children at the orphanage and teach them the ways of the Catholic Church, but more in his way than the ancient, prejudiced things that most Catholics still lived by. He memorized the Bible up and down and he was probably the smartest person Matt knew when it came to religion and faith. Father Lantom raised him. He trusted him to tell him the truth, but as his faith started to fade and he started to doubt his purpose in life, the man’s words mattered only a little. 

“When Moses said to the people, ‘Do not be afraid. Stand still, and see the salvation of the LORD, which He will accomplish for you today. For the Egyptians whom you see today, you shall see again no more forever. The LORD will fight for you, and you shall hold your peace.’ God protected them. God is supposed to protect good people and punish the bad. He’s supposed to punish the sinners who feel no regret for what they’ve done and make sure that the saints, the ones asking for forgiveness, are safe and sound. He’s supposed to bring peace,” he said. “So why is it, father, that even the best people find themselves amid disaster, alone and exposed, and God’s not even answering their prayers? Why does he let bad things happen to good people?”

The mood in the room had dropped drastically, turning the air thicker and colder than before. “Matthew,” Father Lantom said, “That’s a lot of pressure to put on yourself, to answer a question like that. I mean, if you look at all of the wars happening around us, you can do an entire digression on the topic and it still won’t be enough,” he told him, “because there is no actual answer to that. I don’t know why. No one knows why.”

“What the hell are we supposed to do then?”

“Language!”

“Sorry, father.” Matt tilted his head back, crossed his fingers over his chest, over the golden necklace dangling from his neck still, right under his dress shirt, and apologized to the crucifix he knew was hanging on the wall behind him.

“Right now,” he said, “every last bible verse I remember sounds like they’re pretension, a lie concocted by the prophets, and it’s making me think God isn’t as merciful as they claimed. He isn’t there to have the backs of those asking him for help. And he certainly doesn’t care about stopping the sins he claims to despise from happening and destroying the lives of innocent people.”

The father sighed again. While his voice had changed in volume throughout his speech, he remained calm. “You want the answer of a priest or my personal opinion?” he asked.

“I want an explanation,” Matt retorted, “not just an answer to shut me down.”

“I told you, there is no real answer. I don’t know why God does or doesn’t do certain things. That’s up to him and him alone.”

“Great, so God does what he wants, consequences be damned?”

“He’s not a person, Matthew. He’s a deity. Viewing him as an almighty savior is a common misconception, but I told you that once, back when you were a teenager. I told you that God can’t just interact with us whenever he pleases. He’s there to look over us and offer us a hand every once in a while through signs and prayers, but he can’t magically appear and end wars that the greed of humans has started. He’s not a wizard, he’s God. When bad things happen to good people,” the father told him, “It’s because certain things are meant to happen a certain way, but not because God dictates our destinies. Bad things happen to us because that’s just what life is. Life is unfair, it’s cruel, it’s vile and so we often forget that God is essentially supposed to heal our emotional scars, not our physical ones. He doesn’t intercept because he can’t. We write our own history,” he said. “He can’t change that. He made us this way for a reason, we just have to accept that.”

His fist collided with the table. “Fuck!”

“Matthew.”

“No, I have to…” He rose to his feet, starting to pace, but not even that would stop the boiling anger in his chest. “There are people who twist religion to hurt others. They torture and kill in the name of God,” he said. “And then there are children who are at the receiving end of that torture. Innocent little children who don’t know any better pray to God asking him to help them out, but he doesn’t listen. He never does. He just left her there after she cried for him countless times, and so she gave up.”

Her - Father Lantom raised his eyebrows. The pronoun changed the situation behind his words drastically, and he finally started to realize why he came to him to ask such a complicated question. A question he should know better about. 

He exchanged his empty mug for the full one on Matt’s side of the table. “Keep going,” he urged. 

Matt sneered. “She gave up on God, on faith, because God failed her when she needed him the most. And now that everything is over, he doesn’t even inflict punishment on the person who’s behind all of this. He could get away with it because there is no real proof for what he did; all of his victims are dead, except for one, but she’s broken now because of him, and facing him is not… it’s not a choice she’d want to make. And since she’s a young woman, no male-dominated court would rule in her favor. And I’m standing here now like a fool because I dedicated my life to enforcing justice, but in this case, I am helpless. The law is helpless, it’s flawed, it won’t do anything other than possibly release a dangerous child molester into the world,” he said. “He holds a grudge now, father because she hurt him and she destroyed everything he built for himself, and if he gets out of that cell alive… I might lose her for good this time. So right now, I’m just torn while she’s still suffering from his hands, and it pains me that I can’t help her. She never did anything wrong before he took her childhood. That doesn’t seem fair.”

 “And what exactly do you want me to do about it, Matthew?” 

“I need you to tell me how to keep my faith in God when all he does is fail me and the people I care about.” He stood with his hands on his hips again, eyes red and drained, and the faintest sheen of tears framed his face. “There is seemingly nothing I can do to change the fact that this man, this disgrace, ruined her life. Except for this one thing… If his case ever goes to trial, we’re screwed. She’s screwed. I can’t let that happen, so he needs to be erased from the narrative. If God won’t do something about it, I have to. I’d do it for her, I’d do it for every single one of his victims just to make sure no other kid has to go through the same shit again,” he said. 

Father Lantom looked him deep into his sightless eyes when he asked, “What exactly do you mean by that?”

Matt sighed. “I need you to teach me how to believe again before I break the highest of the Ten Commandments.”

“Ah,” he said. “I figured this day would come.”

“You don’t understand, father. That man deserves to die,” he stated, “and every passing second makes it harder not to think about it. With every passing second, my hatred grows stronger and I want nothing more than to storm his cell and squeeze the life out of that miserable throat.”

“But you don’t want to kill him, do you, Matthew? I think that’s the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen talking, not you, not Matthew Murdock. You’re not like that. You’re not cruel, not ruthless, you’re just a man trying to protect his city. Murder is not your agenda, ever. You have to understand that.” 

“I am Daredevil. I can’t change who I am, but I can be there for her and if I have to break this one rule,” he ground his teeth, “This one tiny rule to make sure she’s gonna be okay... Well, that’s not a hard choice to make. I’d choose her over God any day and that terrified me.”

“Would she want that?” he emphasized in hopes he would give more than he had to offer. “You give up your faith like that? For her?”

“No,” said Matt, “But she’s only saying that to protect me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Whose side are you on, father?”

The man answered without missing a beat, “God’s and the laws.”

“Well, then you’re more foolish than I thought you were.”

He grabbed his cane from the table, opened it, and slid the red-tinted glasses back on his face. Matt patted the wooden surface. “Thanks for the latte,” he said. 

“Matthew,” father Lantom called after him, “Wait!”

He didn’t wait. He took the familiar road down the corridor, down the aisle, and out of the heavy double doors into the humid New York summer air. 

The first few days were hard. Just when Eliza thought it couldn’t get any worse, the claws clinging to her soul dragged her further down. She flapped around desperately, trying to stay afloat, but the current was too strong. The waves slapped her across the face, forcing her under the surface. At first, she managed to swim up for air. She managed to keep her nose over water, at least, so she wouldn’t drown. Though the more water she swallowed, the more of it landed in her lungs. Breathing got harder, draining her of strength, and her arms only flailed aimlessly around the ocean. They were no longer strong enough to keep her up and she was so tired, she eventually gave up. She passed out and sank, heading straight for the bottom. 

Antidepressants take a while to take effect. The stronger ones might hit faster, but until the body is fully adjusted, you won’t feel the effects. 

She was afraid of what the pills would do to her. The last time she tried them, she lost control of her powers. But Eliza had no choice. She was dying, or she felt like she was, but she honestly believed that if she kept breathing, she would die. The pain tore through her chest, right where she suspected the soul was and paralyzed her entire body. 

Every day, Matt supervised the intake of her medication closely - he would have forced them down her throat if she had said no. They were working. She hated to admit it to herself but the pills were working. The first two nights, she slept straight through. No nightmares, no dreams. Following the new substance in her body, her appetite increased and on the third day, she managed to force herself out of bed and into the shower. 

Matt stayed. He called in sick for the week, causing a dispute between him and Foggy, but when he told him that Eliza was alive and that she was his reason for not being able to go to work, his friend eased up. Although he wasn’t pleased to hear that the girl he now considered something close resembling family was back and he didn’t even get to see her. Matt wouldn’t elaborate further, he couldn’t, it wasn’t his place, so Foggy simply took the information and tried to store it away before curiosity could kill him. 

Eliza insisted many times that he should return to work without her, but he wouldn’t leave. He wanted to wait and take her with him the next time he stepped foot into the office, but the more time she spent cooped up together with him, the less she felt in control of herself.

She had no power over him, not even when she told him to spend a few hours at night outside. She told him to resume his activities as Daredevil until she was out of the woods completely and they could start anew, but even with that, he refused. 

The chances of Matt getting hurt were higher as Daredevil than at home in bed with her, but Eliza saw the way he tensed whenever he heard something outside, and that hurt her more than seeing him with a black eye or a few broken ribs. 

Sometimes he would sit on the couch long after he put her to bed, fists clenched at his sides as he listened to the sirens signaling another crime that hadn’t been stopped, another hurt civilian, and another criminal set lose on the streets of his beloved Hell’s Kitchen. 

He spent more time in the bathroom, holding his head underwater, and when that didn’t work, he started to rearrange the kitchen to distract himself. Soft jazz music often played in the background, or he put on noise-canceling headphones and he wouldn’t talk to her until he was finished with whatever project he put his mind to. All because he didn’t want to leave her while she was at her most vulnerable. The less she suffered, the more he retreated into his shell, but that shell was see-through and offered little to no protection, only prolonged pain.

Eliza had enough of watching him run himself into the ground for the sake of her mental well-being. She had to get back out there, as did Matt. They desperately needed to get a life. 

And when she finally got the go-ahead after two very cruel weeks, no one was more excited than her to return to a life of normal. As normal as it could get, anyway. Matt wasn’t pleased, but she refused to let him talk her down. 

“Foggy sends his love,” he told her after a particularly draining phone call with his colleague about a case offer they received. “And he said he can’t wait for us to work together. Most importantly, he can’t wait to see you again. But he also said that you should charge your phone,” he pressed a kiss to her head on his way past the couch, “Which is something I keep telling you, but you won’t listen.”

She looked at the dead cell phone on the living room table. It still existed and it had all the necessary numbers to call to make amends, but every time she considered plugging it in, she stopped herself. They would find her if she did – Happy, Pepper, possibly even Tony. She couldn’t face them. Not yet. 

Addicts anonymous offers twelve steps to follow on the journey to full sobriety. One of them is admission. Eliza had to admit to herself that she had a problem, but not only to herself. Forgiveness is only the eleventh step, yet truly the most important. Making amends with the past makes it easier to look forward to what lies in the future. Put a lock on the chapter and place the book back on the shelf, perhaps start a new one. 

She made amends with everyone involved, except Foggy and Happy. She cared about them too much to look them in the eyes. In the case of Matt’s business partner though, she didn’t have a choice. He automatically became her boss when she took her boyfriend up on his offer, and since he told Foggy to finalize it as soon as she was able to leave the house and no longer pose a danger to herself or others, there was no way out. She wanted this, but facing him and Karen – especially Karen – after such a long time and everything that happened, was stressful and had her shaking just at the thought of it. 

But life has never been known to be particularly kind, and her third chance started to look pretty good. Saying no to starting over out of fear of being rejected and hated by the people she loved would’ve been a foolish thing to do, and she no longer wanted to be foolish. She wanted to make the right choice and she had – facing the music was the hard part. 

Eliza woke Matt that day with a slight nudge. He grumbled and rolled over, pressing his face into the pillows. The sensory overload made it harder for him to sleep, so even without his vigilante duties, he fell asleep only after three in the morning and often got up before her so he could make coffee. 

This time though, she made sure she woke up before him. Perhaps it was the excitement of getting back into the world or she was too anxious to sleep; either way, she woke up way before the set alarm to return the favor Matt had given her many times before.

She went into the kitchen, bare feet hitting the ground with small taps that she hoped he didn’t pick up on. His blue dress shirt hung loosely over her figure. Yawning, she took the orange capsule standing on the counter, opened it, and poured a pill into her hand. Two more followed. They tasted bitter on her tongue before she managed to swallow them with some much-needed coffee. 

Why would Matt ever voluntarily get up this early in the morning? She thought back to working out with Steve, and his schedule often started at five. That had been far worse than standing in the soft morning sun breaking through tinted windows in the apartment of the man she loved, but seven was still far too early for her liking. Eliza considered going back to bed, sliding under his protective arm, and sleeping some more, but the coffee was already done and she had other plans. 

She had to get back on her feet and learn how to walk without crutches. She had to learn how to help herself, and for that, she had to put a lot more personal effort into the process. She had to want this.

Mrs. Darcy never pressured her to charge her phone and face what was left of her family because they posed a very obvious trigger she wanted to avoid while the effects of the antidepressants were still underway, but her sobriety was a very important aspect too and what she learned from the many meetings she had been to years before, making amends and asking for forgiveness plays a vital part in recovery. It would help her get better, not slow her down, so she inserted the charger into her phone, leaving it out to charge on the dinner table. 

She would check again once the device restored itself after such a long time of being empty and unused. 

Matt stirred when she lightly shook his shoulder, grumbling something inaudible before he rolled over and went back to sleep. She sighed. Waking Matt was a dangerous game, one most people would lose at. But she wasn’t willing to let him get away with it. 

She swung her leg over his hip, straddling his sleeping frame. His eyebrows twitched - he could feel her heat right over his crotch and the sudden pressure applied to his body coaxed him out of unconsciousness. 

“Matt,” Eliza whispered into his ear. “Matthew,” she said. “Wake up.”

He didn’t, although his hands came to rest on her hips as if his body had gotten so used to the motion, he didn’t even have to be awake for it. 

If this was what he thought would happen, she had to disappoint him. Instead of grinding herself on his clothed cock, she pulled the pillow from under his head roughly. His head hit the mattress with a thud. Slowly, he started to blink back to life, but not in time to stop the fluffy cotton wrapped in silk from coming down on his face. 

His reflexes came in motion when she hit him a second time, and by then he was already wide awake. 

“What the-” he forced the pillow away from her hand, grabbing her wrists and crossing them on his chest. “What did I ever do to you?” his voice sounded ten times more attractive when it was still laced with sleep, groggy and hoarse, a sound born straight from his chest. 

She grinned. Her chest filled with a sudden warmth that, the past couple of days, had been little to non-existent. The numbness subsided, leaving behind a state of relief, still clouded by exhaustion and thoughts she couldn’t shut off, especially not when it came to the man underneath her, but the pain was barely there anymore. Or she couldn’t feel it, anyway.

“You need to get up,” she told him. 

“Why?” he challenged. 

Eliza attempted to steal the pillow from her side of the bed. “Because…” he caught onto her sheepish plan before she could follow through on it. “We have to go to work.”

She barely even flinched when the pillow bounced off her face. “Rude,” she said. 

Matt shrugged. “You started it.”

“I just wanted to wake you.”

“There are a million different ways you could have done that.”

“Oh,” she cocked her head to the side, “Is that so, Murdock?”

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, sweetheart,” he said. 

“You mean, like, suffocate you with this pillow?”

“That’s not… You know, some days, you terrify me a little.” He pinched his fingers together, not leaving space for air between the two. “Just a little,” he said. 

She smirked. “I know,” she told him. Pecking his lips, she placed the pillow aside and brushed his bed hair back. “But you love me all the more for it.”

“Hmph,” Matt grunted in disapproval, but instantly melted into her touch when she kissed him again. His hands stroked up and down her back. “You’re lucky I love you, or else I would take your death threats very seriously.”

“Naw, don’t be afraid,” she cooed. “I would never hurt you, Matty.” 

He squeezed the flesh of her hip. “I’m not afraid, especially not of you. I mean, those puppy dog eyes you give when you want something,” he stated, “they’re not very terrifying.” 

“You sure?” Eliza squealed when he pinched her again, digging his fingers right into the most ticklish spot, and the sparkle in his eyes told her she screwed up. “Ow. Matt, stop it!”

“Why?” 

“Because- HEY!” He dug his fingers into her waist, moving them back and forth and pressing further down until she was wheezing with laughter. 

She rolled off and he followed, using his weight to pin her down and continued tickling her into the mattress. Tears ran down her face and the laughter got higher and more breathless with every move of his fingers. She couldn’t even fight back.

She gasped when he suddenly attacked her neck with kisses. Not gentle ones though. He found the spot behind her ear and used his stubble to scratch against the skin there. She squirmed. 

“Stop it!” she laughed. “Matt, please. I mean it. Have mercy on me!” 

He chuckled, answering plainly, “No.”

“Please, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean what I sa-ah-id.” Eliza clawed at his arm, giggling uncontrollably to the point her stomach hurt and she couldn’t move anymore. He had complete access now. “Would you stop?” she panted between squeaks, “This is unfa-ah- unfair! Matt, please. Oh, stop it! Time-out, time-out!”

He finally eased up. 

“Jesus, I should sue you,” she took a deep breath, “for- for tickling assault.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Tickling assault?” Matt mused. “Seriously?” 

“Yes, tickling assault! Look it up. It’s written in the Constitution.”

“Objection, speculation!” 

“Overruled,” she said. “The plaintiff has evidence.”

“Oh, really? What does she have on me?”

“Evidence,” Eliza emphasized. “Evidence you won’t get to see without my very good lawyer present.”

“In that case, I take the fifth.”

“HA! I knew it!” 

“That was not a confession,” he added. “I’m just choosing not to incriminate myself.”

She scoffed. “Weak! Hiding behind the fifth amendment to conceal the truth that you are, in fact, a serial tickler.”

He smiled even brighter at her playfully articulated words and the frustration of her bottom lip when she realized he was mocking her. “The fifth amendment is every US citizen’s right to take in a court of law. C’mon, sweetheart, if you want to work with me you have to know that,” he said, albeit teasingly.

“Oh, I do know that.”

“Yeah? Did you read the research material I gave you?”

A pause. “I watched Hamilton,” she said. 

Matt didn’t protest when she slung her leg around his hip and rolled him onto the mattress, resuming her position in his lap. He chuckled at her previous words, the lyrics of the musical still stuck in his head from the many days before. 

She had worn headphones while the soundtrack played on his laptop, keeping the volume down not to disturb him while he was sleeping. Little did she know that he had been awake the entire three hours, listening to her sing along under her breath, somehow memorizing every single word after the first listen. At first, it reminded him of the day the musical premiered and the album dropped on all streaming platforms, and he sat in his office across from Foggy’s and the former theater kid started to rap every last song loudly, including the sound effects, and it had caused Matt quite the headache when he did. But he loved him, so he never told him. He liked to compliment his singing to spare his feelings, but his rendition of the musical, the Foggy Nelson one-man show was not something he wanted to actively listen in on for a second time (and still he did because listening to him put his entire soul into every ballad was oddly refreshing, even to his sensitive ears). 

With Eliza though, he knew that her voice already soothing enough to ease his nerves in dire situations. She had a nice voice, one he liked listening to. Every time she hummed Chasing Cars when she was nervous, he got a small glimpse into what her singing voice would sound like and while it was nowhere near trained, she sounded surprisingly good.

So he stayed awake while she sang along under her breath, too caught up in her head to remember that not even a whisper or the dampening of sound-canceling headphones could keep him from hearing part of what she heard. 

Needless to say, he would listen to her do it all over again. He would take her to a karaoke bar right now and make her compete with Foggy if that was what it would take for her to sing for him. He knew that his friend would be down right away. Eliza, not so much. She hated public speaking - public singing would only be twice as horrible.

“I suppose Lin Manuel-Miranda’s songwriting is one way to learn about history,” he murmured, “but does it teach you anything about law?”

She hit him. Even playfully, her punches packed a certain force that had him flinch upon impact. “Shut up or I’ll rap the entirety of Guns And Ships in a very bad French accent right into your ear,” she said.

He snorted. “No, thank you.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Matt happily sat up against the headboard, stroking the hair from her face - hair which he now knew the color of. He remembered every last highlight, the way the sun fell on the strands, and showed her in an entirely different light. He imagined her lips curling up again, her beautiful smile reaching his heart in streaks of yellow, warm like the sun. Her eyes probably eyed him up and down, her pupils blown from the change of light in the bedroom, and the color around it competing with her smile for a spot in the sun. He could feel the heat under her skin, the blood rushing to her cheeks, and he could see her face before his inner eye, skin colonized by a soft, red flush from the cold of the open window and the heat of him underneath her. 

Eliza pecked his forehead, “But I suppose you can be forgiven.” 

Matt’s cheeks flushed when she pulled away, the blood rushing to his head only because he realized he had been fantasizing about her in the middle of their conversation and the tune of her heartbeat told him that she knew. 

“Oh, so it’s a not guilty verdict then?” he asked. 

“Yes, I believe so. Your innocence was proven beyond a reasonable doubt.”

“Well, give my thanks to the jury if you happen to see them.”

“You can thank them yourself. They’re right here.” 

“Where?”

She pursed her lips. “Right here. You gotta bow down a bit.”

“Like this?” He leaned forward. 

“A bit further.”

He lowered his head. “Here?” 

“You’re still missing some distance there, counselor.”

“Oh, I see,” Matt pinched her chin between his thumb and index finger, “I think I found them,” he said, and then, finally, he kissed her.  

Eliza wrapped her arms around his neck with the most content sigh. His hand came to rest around her neck, the perfect necklace, and he didn’t have to pay for expensive jewelry for her to be happy with it. Their lips moved lazily against each other. There was no fight for dominance, no rush, only the two of them molded together like marble, not quite the same contrasts blending - one was darker than the other; one was the sun, the other the moon, black and white - but they still came in one piece. 

He licked over her bottom lip, sucking the flesh into his mouth. She gasped softly, allowing his tongue to enter, though not without testing the waters first, waiting for her to open up far enough so he could swallow every possible breath that came from her throat. With the way their noses brushed together, oxygen became a rarity for their lungs, fighting to be granted at least some air with the other pressing so tightly against them. 

The fact that Matt navigated his world through touch was a well-known fact. It was the main source of being able to paint a mental picture of his surroundings. The enhancement of his other senses added to that, of course, but the touch was the sense he relied most upon. He liked to touch what was his, showed his affection through lingering touches, held onto his friends any chance he got to keep them from leaving his side, and reveled in the feel of soft fabrics against his sensitive skin, giving the constant overstimulation a break. 

At the same time, he experienced the affection of others much deeper than the ordinary human being. When she touched him, his skin felt on fire, and goosebumps adorned everywhere she touched. Every last spot sparked with electricity, sending signals to his brain, and she tickled just the right centers to cause imminent pleasure. The pleasure wasn’t often sexual. A mere release of endorphins and oxytocin relaxed his muscles and calmed him, soothing the constant hammering that caused his head to spin. 

Arousal was the strongest sensation of all he could feel because it wasn’t just his sex that craved attention, it was all of him. Her touch could bring him to the edge of orgasm just by rubbing over his arms, his legs, even his hair, and while it was exhaustion to get so easily riled up, she made it worth it. He didn’t have to hold back. She refused to let him. 

Her body moved to the rhythm of his kisses. adjusting ever so slightly to sit more comfortably in his lap. By then he could only count the seconds before she would feel the effect of her wriggling. The drug-like high his lips caused had her mind floating somewhere else. She only realized what was happening when he broke the kiss, breathing heavily, and he stilled her hips with a firm grip. 

“Don’t,” he warned. 

Eliza licked her lip, brows furrowing at his request. “What?” she said. 

“Don’t-” Matt swallowed, “Don’t move.” The please he added ran silent. 

“What are you talking about- oh.” She shifted, directing her eyes downward, and then she stilled, feeling the hard outline of his cock pressing against her panties. Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip. “Oops?”

He must have gotten turned on pretty early, considering she could feel the wet patch of pre-cum soaking through both of their underwear and coating her folds. Except that she didn’t have any sex drive left in her. Even the sight of him naked didn’t have her clenching like it usually did. Though as she inspected his closed eyes, the blush on his cheeks, and the sight of his cock straining against the waistband of his underwear, she couldn’t help but feel a little proud of herself. 

Matt’s fingers dug into her hips. He cleared his throat, daring to open his eyes again. “Sorry,” he murmured. “I wasn’t trying- I know you’re not- God, I’m sorry. That usually doesn’t happen. I’m not a fucking teenager anymore.”

She placed a finger on his lips. “Don’t talk,” she shushed him. “It’s okay.”

“I don’t- I mean, we don’t have to- I know you’re not feeling the same right now. I just need a moment to focus, to get the, uh, blood back into my head, but your wriggling isn’t helping. So please, Liz, stop moving.”

“I have a better idea.”

He did it for her all the time. The least she could do was return the favor - she wanted to put him first because he often came to short in life, always the savior, always the catholic, and always eager to serve and give pleasure rather than take it. He would never ask her to do it. He liked to swallow his needs to treat her own. More often than not they took down the road of his desires anyway but not because he asked but because it just happened. He got off, and he enjoyed it, but even Matt Murdock had needs that needed to be articulated more. He was clear about what he didn’t want, but when it came to asking for an act of service directed at him? He wasn’t going to do that without a little push. 

Determined to make him cum first for once, Eliza took his hands and put them on the front of his dress shirt she wore. The buttons felt cold under his fingertips as he traced them, frowning, waiting for her to tell him what her mission was. 

She didn’t want to have sex, but she would gladly go down on him. She would do everything it took to make him come undone for her. He could touch her however he wanted, as long as it brought him pleasure. He just didn’t seem to get the gist yet, too caught up in his head and embarrassment to make the connection. 

She sighed wearily. Stubborn as ever, she thought. “Undress me,” she told him. 

“Sweetheart, you’re not even…” he trailed off to play with the slightly oversize fabric again. 

He wondered which one she wore. Was it a blue or a white one? He had a red one too, that much he knew because Foggy made him buy it after they graduated. He doubted she would choose the most expensive though, probably one he wore the past couple of days, one of the more casual shirts. 

His cock twitched, painfully hard and rubbed against the silk of his boxers when she rolled her hips against his just enough to make him feel something. 

“You’re right,” Eliza said, “I’m not at all horny right now, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be. I told you, it’s okay. I’d be glad to help you. Now,” she forced his hands away from her abdomen and onto her breasts, “Undress me.” Her voice lowered and she grew more demanding. 

Matt gnawed on his bottom lip. Fuck. She was something else when she was determined to get what she wanted, more than willing to take control to let him lose it. 

“You don’t have to do this,” he said. However, he had already opened the first button by the time he finished talking. Her scent hit him stronger, his body wash and her perfume mixed with the freshly brewed coffee in the kitchen that had probably gone cold. 

She shushed him. “I want to.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes, Matthew.”

The next button plopped open and he reached inside, brushing his hand over her soft nipples. Why that turned him on as if she did the same thing to him, he wasn’t sure. Maybe it was voodoo, but he knew better than to complain. The heavy feeling of her breasts in his hand, the soft flesh tender and perfectly squeezable, had him groan. 

“You want to kiss them?” she asked. If it hadn’t been for the context, he would have called her adorable, almost, the way she slurred her words to make him feel more comfortable. 

Eliza guided his head toward her cleavage when he gave a faint nod, too turned on to answer. Once close enough, he grabbed both boobs tightly and buried his head between them. What it would feel like to squeeze them to make a tighter entrance and thrust his cock between them, feeling them bounce as he brought himself to orgasm all over her beautiful chest, her nipples perky and coated in his cum?

Fuck. He made himself even harder just from the mental image, the faint idea of the feeling settling in. He wanted nothing more than to fuck her tits, but that was something he had reserved for another time. 

She let him suck several hickeys into her skin up until the point he was satisfied and she could pry him away from her boobs, eyes wide with curiosity as she stared into his hooded ones. “Tell me what you want,” she told him. 

“I- n’ugh!”

She licked a long strip over his neck. 

“I don’t know…” he sighed.

“Do you want me to suck you off,” she offered, “Stroke your cock,” her hand slipped lower, over his straining abs and his boxers, avoiding his erection for now and instead brushing his upper thigh, “Or do you want me to grind on you until you cum?” she finished, eyeing him for any signs of distress. 

Matt fisted the sheets, nostrils flared, while the other hand remained on her hip. She cradled his face, scratched his scalp, and found his most sensitive spot, before sucking a purple mark into the pale skin of his chest. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, leaving behind a ghastly white underneath the full blackness of his lashes. 

Eliza peeked up at him and the sight was truly victorious. The usually so strong, put-together, and sturdy Matt Murdock looked absolutely wrecked with his hair disheveled, lips swollen and his mouth hung open, the prospect of her suggestions driving him insane. 

“Talk to me, my love,” she purred, licking over the hickey she left and adding another right underneath it. “What do you want me to do?”

He whimpered, not wanting to say it, even though he knew exactly what he wanted. He wanted her to do all the things she suggested until he was shaking from the sheer pain of overstimulation, his cock red and swollen and exhausted from the orgasms she would pull from him. It was a dark fantasy, something he couldn’t ask of her. Inflicting pain on him until he came while she sat by and watched - it was a scene meant to be played under different circumstances. 

“I suppose I could just keep kissing you. That could make you cum, right?” she said. “I wouldn’t even have to touch you for that to happen. I mean, you’re already so painfully hard, you even wet my underwear like a desperate little boy who can’t even tell me that he wants to have his dick sucked. And here I was, foolishly thinking you were such a strong, big boy when you are actually just as much of a whore as I am, but too much of a proud brat to admit just how submissive to my control your little pet brain is.”

She stopped kissing him, realizing what had just passed her lips, and she pressed a hand to her mouth. “Oh, God,” she stammered, “I’m so sorry, that wasn’t… I have no idea where that came from.” 

This was, for the lack of a better word, outright filthy. And the worst part was that Eliza liked being in this position, finally in control and able to make him feel all the things he made her feel. She wanted to give back, and she wanted him to follow her needs.

The more surprised she was at his reaction. Matt swallowed hard, his muscles flexing and then he moaned loudly. Louder than he ever had before. His head writhed against the pillow. He was embarrassed - embarrassed that this turned him on so much, his cock bumped her cunt with a desperate thrust. She held his hips down, still staring at him. 

How did they go from a tickling fight to this?

He barely choked out, “Again.”

And she raised her eyebrows even further. “I’m sorry, what?” 

“Do that again. Say it. Fuck!” He was completely at her mercy now. “Please, sweetheart. Keep talking to me like that.”

Finally. 

“Wow,” she jumped back into the condescending tone as if it were her second nature. “Are you really that desperate to be fucked?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

“Is that what you want? My mouth around your cock?”

“Yeah, I want it. I need your mouth. Fuck, I just… I need to cum so bad, baby. So, so bad.”

“Wasn’t so hard now, was it? Asking for what you want like a good boy.”

“Oh.”

“Of course, that would get you twitching. Me calling you a good boy. Is that what you want? Does my little whore want to be called a good boy while I go down on him?”

His back arched off the bed and she wasn’t even far enough to touch him yet. “Huh, pet, tell me. Do you want to be my good boy and cum in my mouth?” she asked.

“I already told you,” he whined. 

“Tell me again.”

“Sweetheart…”

“Matthew,” Eliza retorted his name like sweet poison on her tongue and acid on his skin. 

He hissed when she finally pulled down his underwear enough to free his aching cock. Matt was done for the second the cold air hit the mushroom tip. His body twitched. Her hands felt like thousand tiny needles. She scratched at his thighs, her mouth hovering above his crotch, but she didn’t touch him where he needed her most. 

He wanted to curse her, but his voice betrayed him. “Please,” he whimpered. 

Fuck. Perhaps that was enough to turn her on, after all. It sure filled her being with a sense of superiority, and that was quite attractive. 

“Sweetheart, please,” he tried again, “Let me fuck your mouth.”

She clicked her tongue. “Tsk, that is not how this is gonna go.”

“I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?”

“Yes, anything for you. I just need you to touch me. Tell me what I have to do.” His eyes trailed aimlessly over the ceiling. “Suck me off. Take my dick into your mouth. Do something, please. I just want to be inside of you. I want to feel you. Don’t make me wait any longer.”

“God, Matthew, I love it when you beg.”

“Please.”

“Yeah, keep those pleas coming until you cum,” she said. “That’s what you can do while I make sure you get the attention only good boys deserve.” 

Licking up the base of him, she traced the protruding veins with her tongue. They pulsated with need. The tip of his cock was weeping, leaving traces of his impending release on his stomach. She licked the pre-cum off his sweaty skin, then returned to paying close attention to every outline of his cock. He was a whimpering mess, grabbing the sheets, the pillows, and the headboard, trying to keep his arms up. He wanted nothing more than to fuck into her mouth until he was coming and she was choking, but she had such a hold on him, he felt almost weak, restrained by her words and arms and that mouth of hers that knew just what to do. 

“You are so good at that,” he breathed. “Please, just take it in your mouth. Suck me off, baby.”

She suckled at his tip, blinking up at him all innocently. 

“Fuck! Move.”

Suddenly, her mouth was gone and he felt her eyes on him, disappointed and exasperated. “I don’t like that tone,” Eliza told him, almost like a teacher condescending to her misbehaving student, but not quite ready to inflict punishment just yet. “You can be nicer than that, can’t you? After all, I’m on my knees for you,” she said. “You can show me at least some gratitude, baby.”

Her hand replaced the touch of her mouth. She moved up and down his shaft, stroking her thumb over his slit, collecting even more pre-cum and using it as lube to move faster. 

His hips bucked. She stopped, squeezing a little harder and he moaned, high-pitched and desperate. “Don’t fight against me, or  you won’t get to cum at all.”

“I can’t,” Matt grunted, “it’s too much. I need more. I- I need you to move, now.”

“What do you say?”

“Please! Take my cock in your mouth, please.”

“Good boy,” she said. “You know what to say if it gets too much.” Her voice took a slightly softer tinge, though it didn’t last for long - only seconds after, she sank down on him in one go, ignoring her gag reflex as she took his full length into her mouth until he hit the back of her throat, thick, swollen, and salty on her tongue, pulsating with need and desperation, his orgasm only moments away. He was that sensitive. 

Her throat kept him warm for several seconds. She didn’t move and the grasp she had on his hips and thighs prevented him from bucking up into her mouth. Eliza warned him with a simple look that if he broke free, she would stop. He felt her gaze burning through him. Matt had no choice but not to comply if he wanted to finish. 

He licked his lip. “Please,” he exhaled. “Just like that, sweetie. I’m so close.”

She smiled smugly, having him right where she wanted him. 

Fondling his balls, she could already feel him tense under her touch, and when she returned to suck at his tip, paired with the constant motion of her hand jerking him up and down, and the other squeezing his balls, his toes curled and he came with new intensity. 

Eliza wasn’t prepared for the extent of his orgasm. She took him in fully, gagging at the size and the flush of liquid down her throat. Matt grabbed her hair, not to push her down but rather to pull her off. His cum spurted over her chest, running down her sternum and onto her breasts. The liquid was hot and sticky; she looked at the white now coating her skin and she sighed. His cum looked so good on her skin, she wished she could show him. 

She swallowed the remains of his release in her mouth, then ran her finger through the thick, white cum on her chest and licked her fingers clean too, making sure to make as much obscene noise with her tongue and lips as possible, all just so he could hear what he had done. 

Matt winced. His body laid slack against the mattress, chest heaving, and with his eyes closed – he looked so done, so messy. She smiled softly yet proudly at the picture he offered. The thought of taking a picture while he was still blissed out poked her. She pushed it down. He wouldn’t appreciate his nudes being taken, surely, especially since he couldn’t enjoy the same liberty. Although it sounded exciting to take his naked frame with her everywhere she went, ruined, covered in cum, and he was still begging for her, even with his mind rendered useless. He was submissive to her. 

Wiping her mouth, she dared to crawl back up. She touched his face. Upon that, he flinched and she pulled back. “No touching?” she asked. 

He shook his head. 

“Is there something you need?”

“Water,” he pleaded. 

“Okay. Hold on.” Eliza reached beside herself for the bottle she always kept on the floor of her bedside. She opened the cap and handed it to him. 

Matt finished most of the bottle greedily, then offered it to her. He nodded toward her lips and the cum on her chest. She totally forgot how messy she looked herself, and how much of him coated her taste buds. The taste was overwhelming, drying on her gums and lips. 

She took the rest of the water and drank it, shooting him a thankful smile. With his dress shirt, she wiped at the cum around her nipples.

Only when his breathing had slowed, did Matt trust his voice again enough to form a logical sentence. “Thank you for doing this,” he said. 

“You don’t have to thank me,” she resisted the urge to run a hand through his messy hair, “I told you, I wanted to do this. You deserve to be taken care of too, you know. You don’t have to worry about me all the time. I’m a grown woman,” Eliza said, “And you’d know if I was lying.”

“I know.” He closed his eyes. “I just feel bad that you didn’t… you know, cum. You probably didn’t even enjoy it.”

She propped her head up on her elbow, smiling at him, and he turned his head in her direction. “I don’t need to finish all the time, Matt. I enjoyed myself, believe me. It felt good to see you like this for a change. Made me forget about everything else.”

“You-” he swallowed, blushing once again. “The things you said…” She expected him to tell her he didn’t like it or that she did a bad job, perhaps, but he took her off guard with his actual answer. “When did you become so dirty?” Matt asked. 

She broke into a rather flustered laughing fit. “Oh, my God!” She hid behind her hands. “I don’t know. The words just slipped out.”

“Listen, I’m not complaining, but that took me by surprise.”

“Trust me, I didn’t know I had it in myself either.”

He chuckled. “Let’s do it again,” he said. 

Eliza stuttered. “Like, right now?”

“No! Not right now, but someday. Soon, maybe.” 

“Okay, I’m down.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you are. There are also some thing I want to try with you-“

“Yes!” Her eyes mit up. “God, yes!”

He chuckled. “You don’t even know what I was gonna say,” he teased.

“If you were gonna tell me that you want to try out some BDSM stuff with me, I know exactly what you wanted to say,” she said.

“Well…” it was what he planned to say.

The excitement in her voice told him all he needed to know, silent confirmation that she was more than down to try.

“My answer is yes.”

“If that’s so, we have an agreement.”

“Hm-hm. We do. Until then…”

Matt recognized the sound of her voice. She left the unsaid hanging in the room, waiting for him to pick up on it and piece together the hints she gave, which were barely there but somehow he knew. He always knew what she was talking about without having to say anything. 

He let the thoughts pass through the many systems in his brain, contemplating, weighing pros and cons, and then he listened to her steady heartbeat some more.

“We have to go to work, don’t we?” he said. His voice was soft, a gentle caress in the sex-scented bedroom.

Eliza smiled at him. “Yeah,” she said, “We have to. We can’t stay in bed all day.” 

“Okay. You’re right.” He sat up, removing the blanket from his body completely, and wrapping her up instead. Gently, he nuzzled his nose into her hair. “I love you,” he said between two kisses to her scalp. 

She hummed in response, eyes fluttering close. “Love you too.”

“I’m just gonna take a shower real quick. Wanna join me?”

“Mh-hm.” She took the hand he offered her, wriggling her legs out of the tangled sheets. 

He picked her up before she could make her way to the bathroom. Eliza had gotten used to his antics. He liked to carry her. It was something she wouldn��t complain about.

“Did you take your meds?” he asked her then.

She gave a small nod. “All three of them.” Her heartbeat told the truth.

Matt remained satisfied with the answer, “Good girl.”

“Hey,” upon seeing the worry on his face when he set her down in the comfort of the small shower stall, she told him, “We’re gonna be okay.”

He sighed, eyes closing as she roamed his bare chest for something to hold onto, imprinting the way he felt into her brain. As if she hadn’t done that enough already, there would always be something that she missed and she wanted to make sure she got all of him. 

“I know,” he said. “But as long as I’m alive, I’m always going to worry about you.”

They shared a kiss. She smiled into it, thankful and overall, finally happy. 

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she concluded.

Matt chuckled as he felt the stickiness of her chest slowly subside under the hot water. He used the sponge and some of his body wash to gently brush over her breasts. “C’mon, let’s get all this cum off your chest…”

“Whatever you say, baby girl.”

He stopped. “WHAT?” his voice echoed off the shower walls before he burst out laughing. “What the fuck did you just call me?”

“Baby girl,” she shrugged. “I mean, you’re baby girl material. I found it fitting.”

“Oh, my God. This is awful,” he wheezed. “Don’t ever call me that again!”

“Sure thing, counselor.”

Matt cocked an eyebrow. He purred at the honorific, “Now that is something I can get down with.”

“But baby girl isn’t?” Eliza challenged.

“Never in a million years.”

“Bummer.”

“Where’d you even get that?”

“I have absolutely no idea. The words were just put in my mouth…”

“Well, try to think before you speak next time.” He pinched her side. “I don’t want to hear you call me that ever again.”

She giggled. “Alright, counselor. Whatever you want, you get.”

Her happy ending was right there. There was seemingly nothing she had to worry about anymore. And if she tried hard enough, which she planned to do, she was going to be okay, and all the pain would have been worth it in the end. 

Good things come to those who wait, right? 

And Eliza tried hard to make it all worthwhile. 

[earthtooz]

about that gojo fic snippet…

three snippets taken out of context. bc i'm nice. (this fic might end up being 20k words)

SNIPPET ONE:

“cause you’re too hideous. turn around gojo and it might appear.” 

“real funny-” 

shivers run down your spine. there’s a cursed energy nearby so monstrous and deranged that it chills you to the bones; an entity so disastrous you feel it before you can see it.

and you might just have rustled it from its slumber.

“move!” gojo yells, his hand grabbing your arm and violently pulling you to the side where you both crash into the stone wall of the cave. with your face in his chest, you can only hear the sound of gojo exorcising the curse before realising that it was gone, its matter splattering all around you before dissipating, as if it was never there in the first place. 

the flashlight now lies elsewhere on the floor and you’re still pressed up against gojo, breathing heavily as adrenaline takes its course out your veins. that too close. 

“you owe me a date.”

“okay,” you breathe, not thinking straight.

SNIPPET TWO:

the way he texts and sends selfies is adorable, leaving you giggling over abandoned homework whenever the notification sound comes through. the way gojo always sits beside you, whether it be lounging around or at lunch with shoko and geto, you find it hard to pretend the way that he presses right up against you, draping an arm over your shoulder, doesn’t have some semblance of an impact on your heart.

but as the temperatures drop, the scenery changes from vibrant days to cool sun and red leaves, and the days turn shorter, you find your relationship with gojo evolving alongside the seasons of tokyo. his love for you is warmer now, no longer restricted to a platonic realm of friendship.

morning walks turn to afternoon strolls, sitting in the shade turns to basking in the gentle embrace fo the sun, and giving him water bottles turn into making him his hot chocolate, just the way he likes it. he begins to warm up to you a little more with each cup, combating the chill outside with the way his heart brews and stirs.

SNIPPET THREE:

“i think i’m in love with y/n.”

if gojo was expecting symphonies to start playing, for the world to split right under his feet, or for geto’s head to explode from shock, he’d be disappointed to realise that none of those actually happened at the wake of his confession. instead, the birds continue chirping their calls, the ground remained intact, and geto could not look more casual about the whole ordeal.

“and?” the black-haired sorcerer asks.

gojo blinks once. twice. “w-what?”

“that’s it?” 

“yes? 

“cool. this drink kinda sucks, i regret buying it-”

“-are you not going to say anything more?”

“what do you want me to say?” 

[shatterthefragments]

Thoughts (from last week taken in a note throughout the day instead of spamming here though it’s my blog I’ll do that if the Vibes of The Day call for it) (but uh they still apply?)

Thoughts

Pulling a vessel with the way my (loose ass) pants (with stuff in pockets) are coming down my hips

Maybe my hands shouldn’t go numb when say. Holding a coffee cup for Time.

Hearing running water and the birds chirping is SO GOOD.

And then!!! The waves crashing on the shore!!!!! So perfect~ even if it’s fairly calm right now.

Truly “feed your gut flora” (well “feed your gut flora a diverse range of things for a healthy microbiome”) has helped change the way I think about food

Even when I use spices that come from plants to get a bit more biodiversity (and flavour) it’s something!!! (And if it’s not ok not sure I want to know differently!!! It’s ground up plants and fungi!!!)

The temptation of BEACH TIME vs the reality of This Should Be In A Fridge. (I might have enough thermos bags it’ll be okay? Though if I do some beach before I go pick up dinner or something)

I can’t remember the last time my jaw was *this* unclenched.

How quickly having to deal with mum changed my entire outlook on the day (I told her if she messaged me I’d bring home food) (I have quiche leftovers so I wasn’t going to cook regardless after cooking at least two things for the past four days but as long as she pays me back for this… (she did)

“Where are you going?” “Outside while it’s still nice (and to get away from you)”

(I got an appetizer I can eat with a spoon :) though I’ll go back inside if I want any chicken wings.)

God. I guess he is kinda The Main Character Huh. (Unspecified)

It’s not worth it

It’s not worth the stress you cause

It’s not worth it

I can only put up with it for the reimbursements

How long do I pay with my health rather than. But debt is also stressful. And at least I don’t have to worry about money as much here even if I don’t budget properly and treat myself too often…

But anything that keeps you from killing yourself is worth it.

God if you collect all that data anyway could you at least use it to not advertise sales with stores that don’t have any clothes that fit me??? One place’s sizing for xxl is too small and they don’t even stock it and I feel bad about it even though I shouldn’t and each brand has their own sizing and I don’t *need* to have that pattern of pants even though I *really* want them but each time I check to see if a pair of pants will go in a size big enough I get a bit sad even though I’ve mostly made a quasi semi peace with my body.

And like?!?

She’s a foot taller than me and a bit bigger bc it’s almost like she’s proportionally stretched taller and it’s. I’m bad at guessing weights. But bc I weight what I do and she’s THAT MUCH TALLER in my head I had a number because they were talking about high weights and I’m just over here like 😬 please don’t try to guess me too. But given the height different and that I can squeeze into certain places she can’t I thought there would be a little bit more of a weight difference.

Also working in a bakery where people are always talking about diets is probably. Very Bad for me but alas. I’m currently in an alright place? Like I’ve never been this Not Horrible about food and my body right now?

(And I do feel good about my body today!!!!!!!!)

[alloftimeandspacetosee]

Into The Storm, Part1

I rewrote a lot of this roleplay I think, because I still had ideas of writing out the whole gosh darned thing but uhhhh yeah no one's got time for that.

Anyway, this part came about bc cowriter1 (Nyx's writer) felt that she wanted to expand on what Nyx could really do, being giratina marked and all.

[2]

~

 The rain started suddenly, just as they reached the end of the walkways. Soise sneezed as a drop landed on her nose, and shook herself violently.

 Arlette held out her hand and looked up at the sky. “Might be an idea to start running.”

 No sooner had the words left her mouth than the clouds broke and rain started to pelt down. Hohenheim screeched and ran for cover, towards the gentle slopes of the hill surrounding the town.

 The rest of the group ran after him, though Aurora was skipping through the forming puddles.

 “This looks pretty bad,” Zlata said, looking up at the clouds.

 A flash of lightning illuminated their surroundings briefly in the gathering gloom, the rumble of thunder not far behind it.

 “Lavender isn’t too far, if you think you can make a bit further?” Arlette peeled wet hair back from her face, tucking it under her hood.

 Corvus screeched, struggling against the winds above them.

 Nyx looks up, frowning as she focuses on the bird. “She says we should find better cover.”

 Hohenheim cheeped miserably as Warren recovered his pokémon.

 “We should try to make it to Lavender, but cover is our best option right now.”

 The twins shared a glance and nodded.

 “This way, then.” Arlette ducked back into the storm and ran, one hand keeping her hood on her head. “Sargeras, stay with Hohen!”

 The vaporeon bounded to Hohenheim’s side and ran with him, pushing the rain away in a gentle arc so he wouldn’t get even wetter. Hohenheim chirped gratefully and ran after the twins as they skirted the massive puddles that had formed along the path. As Corvus managed to fly lower, Nyx returned the honchkrow and tucked her ball into a pocket.

 “Are we close?” Warren called.

 “Yeah, it’s just there!” Arlette yelled back. “Hopefully there’s room in the centre!” She raced ahead, leaving them behind in an instant.

 Aurora stayed with the rest of the group and led them on after her sister, into the town of flickering lights. It’s quiet now, everyone driven inside by the storm.

 Aurora glanced back at the rest of the group, seeing Zlata beginning to lag. “It’s not far now, come on!”

 Arlette was waiting for them just inside the centre, Harpy by her side. “It’s a bit packed.”

 “At least we got in.” Nyx glanced back outside as lightning flashed again. “Just in time, I think.”

 Soise snarled to herself, squeezing water from her mane. Hohenheim shook himself, steam rising as he dried off his feathers, and walked over to her side to help dry her off.

 “Is anyone hurt?” A nurse, busy handing out towels and blankets, came over to the group.

 “No, I don’t think so.” Nyx frowned and looked around. “Just how big is this storm?”

 “All fine and dandy.” Soise nodded. “Just wet.”

 “I take it there aren’t enough rooms for everyone?” Arlette took some towels, passing them out around the group and rubbing her head furiously.

 “I’m afraid not.” The nurse shook her head. “But we won’t turn people away. Not if we are needed.”

 “Bedding down in the entrance hall… fancy.” Aurora grinned, glancing outside as a roll of thunder rattled the windows. “I quite like the look of that storm.”

 “At least we have a roof over our heads,” Ryun said, stroking Dante as the houndour padded back to him.

 “Thank you,” Nyx said, as the nurse left their group.

 Hohenheim wandered over to near a window side table, where only two trainers were sitting. He chirped and whistled, catching their attention and showing off his plumage and crest. They started to whisper and, as he wandered away again, followed after them.

 Zlata sighed and turned to the twins. “There are some seats now, if you want them.” She pointed to where the two trainers had been.

 The twins grinned. “Travelling with a legendary’s pretty useful, apparently.”

 “I guess having such a cute legendary does have its advantages. Apart from the main one of actually having a cute legendary!” Nyx took a seat, Warren next to her.

 Aurora slid into the other window seat, pressing up against the window and looking out. She laughed as there was a huge flash of lightning, though when the lights flickered, some of the other travellers screamed.

 Rem hopped onto the table between them and squeaked, looking up at Nyx.

 Nyx hissed. “Really? Oh, I hope it doesn’t hit Lavender… Rem says there’s been word of floods.”

 Hohenheim came back and curled up against Zlata, who was sat on the floor beside them.

 “If it does hit us, it’ll hit the tower first – it’s bigger. And there’ll be lightning conductors along its length.”

 “If it floods, we should head to higher ground. Us and everyone here,” Zlata said, looking around. “But let’s pray that it doesn’t.”

 “Oh, flooding… didn’t think of that.” Arlette grinned. “They probably have ways of dealing with that as well.”

 Aurora laughed again as more lightning flashed, not even flinching at the thunder.

 “Yes… we’ll be fine.” Nyx clutched at Rem, as if she didn’t quite believe herself.

 “Why’re you laughing at this?” Warren asked Aurora. “Haven’t you been in a storm before?”

 “Not on land.” Aurora shook her head.

 “Storms’d be much worse on the sea, I’d think.” Warren shuddered. “Less places to hide and all, you’d just be stuck on the boat.”

 “I have no doubts that I would rather spend a storm on land,” Zlata murmured, and hugged Hohenheim as more thunder rolled.

 “You can outrun them on a ship,” Aurora murmured, staring out the window.

 “What?” Nyx looked up at Warren.

 He frowned. “I… didn’t say anything?” He flinched as a clap of thunder shook the centre.

 Nyx shook her head and returned to looking outside.

 Soise glanced up at her. “You alright?”

 Nyx looked over at Soise and opened her mouth as if to speak. Then she winced and clenched her head in her hands. “There must be something we can do!”

 “I don’t think there is,” Ryun said. “What’s wrong?”

 “Maybe after the storm’s finished raging.” Arlette watched Nyx, frowning.

 “Unless you want to keep people’s attention off the storm,” Aurora suggested.

 Nyx looked up at Zlata, shaking her head. “No, I think I can help them, I can…” she stood up, wavering slightly.

 Hohenheim got up now, pressing against Nyx’s legs. She pushed him out of the way and shrugged away Warren as he took her shoulders.

 “Sit down.”

 “I’m fine, I’ll be alright.” She stepped away from the group, towards the door. “Stay here, with my pokémon, alright?”

 “Nyx, wait – don’t!”

 Ryun reached out to stop her, but Nyx was out of reach. She wrenched open the door and charged out into the storm.

 “We should try to find her,” he said, turning back to the group. “I have no doubt she can handle herself, but charging out into a storm like that isn’t good.”

 Arlette sighed and swung out of her seat. “Harpy, stay here. Sargeras, with me.” She ran for the door, the vaporeon at her side.

 “I… should stay with Hohenheim. He needs me more here,” Zlata said, taking a pokéball from her bag and handing it to Ryun. “But take Niagara. She’ll be good if there is a flood.”

 Aurora tore after her sister, not even bothering to pull her coat back on.

 “I swear to Kyurem, if I ever get my paws on that legendary, he is dead,” Soise cursed and chased after them. “Nyx!”

 Warren and Ryun ran out after them, peering through the sheeting rain in search of Nyx.

 “You know her best,” Ryun said, turning to Warren. “Where would she go?”

 “Probably towards danger,” Arlette answered instead, pulling the pins from her wet hair and pushing it back off her face. “’Rora, see anything?”

 Aurora held up a hand, frowning as she tilted her head. “I think… I think I can hear something.”

 Soise frowned. “Towards the back of the town? There’s a dodgy presence.”

 “Fun times. What kind of dodgy?”

 “Distorty dodgy.”

 Warren released Sammy to hold onto, and looked around. Sammy reared up, barking at something ahead of them.

 “She’s over there.” Warren pointed as a burst of lightning illuminated a huge form rising from the ground.

 Zlata joined them, Mentat at her side. Together the group looked up at the huge snakelike form as it spreads out arms, strong against the wind.

 “Is that… is her distortion always like this?” Ryun asked, tensed and releasing Niagara.

 Zlata shook her head. “No, it has never been like this. I just pray that it’s still Nyx, not Giratina.”

 Niagara dropped to all fours and growled, but Zlata stroked her snout before she could attack.

Warren charged forward, heading straight for Nyx. “Nyx!”

 The huge form looked down. “Warren? How… how big am I?”

 “Quite big!” He called, shivering in the wind. “Bring it back, alright? You’ll be ok!”

“The hell have you done to yourself?” There were growls underlining Soise’s words.

 “Warren, head back to the centre, alright?”

 “Not without you!”

 “Sounds like it’s still Nyx,” Arlette murmured.

 Aurora stepped forward. “Hey, Nyx? What gives?”

 Nyx looked down at her. “I don’t know… I think I just wanted to help. This isn’t really what I was going for!”

 “Nyx, please change back.” Zlata stepped forward now. “You’re not helping anybody like this. You’re more likely to scare them, and that will just make things worse,” she shouted up. “There are other ways to help!”

 Nyx turned towards the edge of the town and started to move, slithering through the mud.

 Arlette’s eyes lightened by several shades, but she shook her head and they dropped back to their usual dark blue. “Stinking legendaries.” She ran to catch up with Nyx. “D’you see anyone needing help, then?”

 “What, are you condoning this?” Soise shook her head, running after them.

 “If she wants to help people, she might as well. And it’ll piss Giratina off if she does, I imagine.”

 “Get back to the centre,” Nyx called back.

 “No. If you’re going to help, so am I!” Zlata called up. “Besides, people might not take so kindly to you helping them in that form.” She climbed up onto Niagara’s back, and Ryun joined her.

 The twins ran alongside them, and Warren sighed and leapt up onto Sammy’s back, sending her running after Nyx.

 They found two people, one hanging from a tree above the water.

 “What… what was that?” the older asked, still staring after Nyx.

 Aurora bounced up onto the tree and flicked slight wings to offset her weight, reaching the girl in seconds. “Come on, you’ll be safe now.”

 “She saved your life,” Zlata said, voice filling with authority.

 Arlette glanced at her, eyebrows raising slightly, and then turned back to the tree, holding her arms out for the girl. Aurora caught the girls hand and brought her safely back along the branch, wings in full view now.

 “What are you?” she whispered, as Aurora handed her to Arlette and Arlette passed her to her sister.

 “Guardians,” Arlette replied. “Now get to the town.”

 “Follow our tracks and stay on the higher ground,” Zlata said. “Don’t expose yourself. Go!”

 The older trainer nodded and ran, tugging her sister with her.

 “For someone who wants to help, she doesn’t consider the aftermath,” Zlata muttered.

 “She has good intentions,” Ryun countered, as Niagara started to run again.

 “It could be a lot worse.” Soise shook rain from her mane. “In the morning, they’ll think her just a figment of their imagination or something.”

 “Either that, or they’ll start a worship of us as storm guardians.” Aurora laughed.

 “I hope so, Soise,” Zlata said.

 They paused at the edge of the cliffs, staring up at Nyx as she spread herself against the sky.

 “What is she trying to do?” Arlette frowned.

 Zlata turned Niagara towards the cliffs, towards a group that were cowering under Nyx’s shelter, but scared to move.

 “Everyone, listen!” Zlata shouted. “She is not your enemy, but you should get out of here, out of the storm! Head towards the town, find any kind of shelter you can, away from the rivers. Head for the hills if you can reach them and find shelter there. She is buying you time, don’t let it go to waste!”

 “Are any of you hurt?” Ryun asked.

 A few called out weakly, and Zlata slid from Niagara’s back. “Take them to the pokécentre as fast as you can. When you’re done, come back here,” she said to him.

 Ryun nodded and walked the feraligatr over, helping the injured people up onto her back before heading towards the town.

 “Go now! Don’t linger!”

 The twins, standing on the sidelines, frowned and turned towards Nyx as Zlata kept the people organised and moving.

 “Reckon we get anything like that?” Arlette murmured.

 “Probably.” Soise shrugged. “Blue does. Yours’ll be purer than hers, though.”

 “She looks like she’s overdoing it.”

 “Worry about that some other time.” Soise pulled them onwards. “The tunnel!”

 Warren was ahead of them and already at the entrance, looking at the water flooding out.

 “There might be people trapped!” Nyx shouted down to Soise. “Could you get inside?”

 Zlata joined them again, another pokéball in her hand. “Could you perhaps distort the earth? Open up the tunnel so that it can accommodate your size?” Zlata called up.

 “That’d probably weaken it.” Arlette shook her head.

 Warren slipped from Sammy’s back, but the samurott wouldn’t go near the entrance.

 “Ok… can I try something?” Aurora asked, stepping forward.

 She stood just to the side of the flow of water and bowed her head. The wings flickered back into view, stronger. She reached her hands out and the water lessened, ever so slightly.

 “Sargeras, with me,” Soise snapped, and dived into the tunnel.

 “How did you manage that?” Zlata asked.

 “I’m at least as powerful as Nyx,” Aurora said, panting slightly as the wings disappeared and the water strengthened again. “And it’s a water typing that’s my other half.”

 Sargeras plunged after her, and the two of them disappear through the water.

 “So… shall we continue with the rescue?” Zlata asked, watching the tunnel entrance. “If there is anybody else to rescue, Nyx?”

 Lightning crashed above them, and Nyx looked up into the rain. “The river was close to bursting, it could flood the town.”

 “Then we should hurry back.” Zlata wiped rain from her eyes.

 Niagara came back with Ryun, and Zlata climbed up in front of him.

 “Are they safe?”

 Ryun nodded.

 “Can you prevent the river from bursting its banks?” Zlata looked up to Nyx again.

 “Redirecting it would be easier,” Arlette said. “Another channel on the side nearest Lavender, just keep it flowing towards the sea.”

 Nyx nodded. “I could redirect it.” She leant down to Warren, who looked up at her in awe. “There will be people, injured people. You could help them.” Then she raised herself back up again, slithering away over the land towards Lavender once more.

 “Nyx is right. There could still be plenty of stragglers out there. Our priority should be the people in the way of the channel. It would be unfortunate if we drowned someone by accident.”

 Ryun nodded. “Let her take care of big things, we can manage the smaller ones.”

 “Precisely. Arlette, Aurora, you track out the river and tell us where we need to go to warn people,” Zlata said, urging Niagara after Nyx.

 “Got it.” Aurora nodded.

 “Downstream’ll be in more of a bother,” Arlette said, looking towards the sea. “But we need to get on the other side of it as well.”

 “I’ll get over,” Aurora said, releasing Askir. “Warren, come with me and we’ll trawl that side.”

 Warren leapt back onto Sammy and followed after Aurora as Zlata nudged Niagara after Arlette.

 When they reach the river, Aurora jumped up behind Warren with Askir in her lap.

 “Hold on,” Warren said, as Sammy plunged into the water.

 At first she was battered by the strong current, pushed downstream, but eventually they made the other bank. Aurora jumped from Sammy’s back, landing with a squelch.

 “Where are they, can you see?”

 Aurora tilted her head to listen, and grinned. “I know you’re there. We’re not the police or whatever, so we don’t care about your illegal dealings.”

 Slowly, a group of three stood up from where they’d been crouched against the ground, their mud coloured – or just mud stained – clothing blending in perfectly.

 “So what are you here for?” one asked, sounding suspicious.

 “Making sure no one’s killed on this dark and stormy night.” Aurora grinned.

 “Are any of you injured? Can you get back to town alright?” Warren asked.

 “No, no – we’re all fine.” Another grinned.

 “Get going, then.” Aurora smirked. “Town’s that way.”

 “What about yourselves?”

 “We can handle it.” Aurora folded her arms. “Now go.”

 They nodded and raced away.

 “Crazy people.” Aurora shook her head. “Askir – can you sense anyone else?”

 The espeon tilted her head, letting out a whistling call. Then she shook her head.

 “The wind’s slowing down.” Warren lifted his head. “Seems to be easing up.”

 “Pity… I mean, finally.” Aurora grinned. “Shall we head back to the others then?”

 Warren started to nod and then stopped, distracted by the appearance of a bright yellow bird with static sparking from its wings. It screeched and shot for something, lightning following to illuminate Nyx.

 “Nyx!” Warren shouted. “It’s tearing into her!”

 Aurora looked up as Nyx shrieked, trying to tear the bird from her face. Then it screamed, falling away into the trees. Nyx yelled and ducked after it.

 Warren had Sammy already racing towards them, and Aurora chased after them.

 They reached the clearing at the same time as the others, and stared at the scene before them.

 Nyx was coiled around the zapdos, checking it over. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, pinning it to the ground as the storm started to die properly. “You’ll live…”

 Aurora and Arlette stepped into the clearing first, soaked clothes beginning to stiffen and flood with different colours.

 “There’s no need to continue this, is there?” Arlette eyed them both. “ThunderMaker, flit back to your perch in the mountains to lick your wounds.”

 The zapdos wriggled out of Nyx’s grasp and screeched in pain, eyeing the group before it. Then it flapped away into the sky, taking the ends of the storm with it.

 “I think… I think we are done here.” Nyx tapped her claws on the ground.

 “Yes, it’s over now,” Zlata said. “So you should probably turn back now.” She glanced between the twins and Nyx. “All of you.”

 “We should all rest and get dry, too.” Ryun tightened his jaw against an involuntary yawn.

 Arlette frowned. “We… haven’t changed?”

 “Not much.” Soise laughed.

 But as the twins looked down at themselves, their clothes were already back to normal.

 “Sure.”

 Nyx pushed herself up from the ground as Warren leapt from Sammy’s back to catch her. Rem landed in the mud, squeaking furiously.

 “Are you hurt?” Warren asked, checking her over.

 “No, I don’t think so… just tired.” Nyx glanced down at Rem. “Where were you?”

 Rem spat and scrambled back up onto Nyx’s shoulder.

 Nyx smiled, nodding at her before looking up to the rest of the group. “I’m sorry about… that, whatever it was.” She yawned.

 “What you did was not wise, but it was right. And you did it without losing control, either.” Zlata shook her head, but she was smiling. “What’s done is done.”

 Nyx nodded, but didn’t say anything more.

 Zlata sighed. “Seems like those two trainers that Hohenheim scammed out of seats have found him.”

 “Anything bad?” Ryun frowned.

 “Seems like they’re trying to catch him.”

 Aurora snorted, covering her mouth as she started to laugh.

 “Well.” Arlette grinned. “I suppose we should go back and sort that out, then?”

 “It’s not like they’ll be able to catch him though, right?” Aurora managed to get the words out, still laughing. “I mean, he’s already got a pokéball, right?”

 Warren helped Nyx up onto Sammy and climbed up after her.

 “It probably won’t be the most comfortable of experiences for him, though. We should probably go help.” Nyx smiled, stroking Rem.

 “We should get him away from them anyway. Before they hurt him.” Zlata climbed back onto Niagara, and Ryun followed suit.

 The two pokémon ran on back towards the town, the twins lagging behind a little.

[cdroloisms]

gonna be honest you are literally the only reason i like ever look at twitter other than to look at cc's tweets, so it's really cool to see you here!!! i hope you enjoy your stay lmao- if you don't mind me asking, do you have an opinion on the dream and foolish brother dynamic? i think it's really fun, especially because those two probably have the least/some of the least tainted dynamics out of everyone on the smp :DDD

aww, thank you anon!! i think i’ll be staying for a bit, at least - tumblr has been lots of fun so far (tho im still working out a writing schedule, haha). foolish and dream brothers my beloved ,, the canonicity at this point is debatable but i love the concept both in canon and aus. (pls just give dream a support system ,, pls) 

anyway, take this quick foolish + dream oneshot :D !! 

tw: panic attacks, trauma, emotional distress 

“You- uh, want some help?”

If it were any other time, it would probably be a little comical; all 23 feet of the totem god hunched in a ball as he awkwardly squats in front of the wooden skeleton of his (adopted) little brother’s beginning of a house, trying to squeeze himself down so he can look inside the half-finished door frame. Inside, Dream freezes, shakes, curls into himself more from where he’s pressed himself into the corner, and Foolish’s heart clenches; unfortunately, he’s caught him in the middle of a panic attack, so he doubts that Dream is really up to laughing right now.

He lowers himself down further, kicking his feet back as best as he can to end up on his stomach. He doesn’t exactly know what set off Dream - it could be anything, honestly; Foolish has seen a lot in his millenia of existence, but the horrors of the prison and the scars it left on Dream feel like foreign territory, even to him. Even so, panic attacks are still panic attacks, so he hums low and quiet as he waits for the fear to abate.

“I was thinking about a new project, honestly,” Foolish smiles, keeps his voice soft, normal. “Maybe something jungle themed, this time? I could do something cool with vines, add some of those birds that you like so much. Papa Puffy would like them too, I think; it’d fit in with her whole pirate thing at any rate.” Dream’s shoulders shudder as he breathes in, out, face lifting from where it was pressed into the inside of his arms. “I don’t know what would pair well with the wood, though; maybe I’ll just be lazy and use oak. Bamboo would be nice too - what do you think about a bamboo garden? With waterfalls, maybe, and flowers? We could maybe catch a panda or two too; that could be nice.”

“Sap likes pandas,” Dream looks up, face red and splotchy, but seemingly no longer struggling to breathe. His voice is hoarse, and Foolish digs into his inventory for a bottle of water to hand over.

“Yeah - I think that could be fun. We could invite him over, when you’re ready.” Dream looks away, eyes going distant again, and Foolish stifles the urge to sigh as he shuffles himself forward, water in hand - well, held as carefully as he can between finger and thumb. “I’m thinking we could keep the ceiling open - or maybe throw in a leaf one? That or glass to let the sun in, maybe.”

“Sounds n’ce,” Dream mumbles, and Foolish blinks at him once, twice. Dream huffs, slightly, but a small smile appears on his face. “Your idea, I mean.” His voice grows louder, more confident with every word - still hoarse, but less out-of-it, and Foolish grins brightly.

“Yeah. It does, doesn’t it?”

They fall into silence, relaxed, comfortable. With every minute, Dream uncurls more, muscles untensing, until it almost looks like nothing’s happened at all, like Dream’s a gangly-limbed teenager again and they’re just sitting down for a chat. It’s not a perfect replica - Dream’s eyes are still duller than they had been, skin paler, a new collection of scars peeking out from his clothing - but it’s close. It’s enough.

“I- um,” Dream hesitates, looks up like he’s asking permission to speak, and Foolish waits; Dream clenches and unclenches his hands, steels himself, shoulders lowering in determination and a well of pride grows in Foolish’s chest. “I was- making a house; it’s uh, small, sorry. Big is still- too much, right now. But a creeper snuck up- and. Um. I guess I panicked.”

Now that Foolish looks, there does seem to be a small crater near the back side of the spruce frame, and he hums in understanding.

“Don’t worry about it. You feeling better now?”

Dream’s eyes widen in shock. A moment passes, then another, as Dream looks up at Foolish and then down at his own hands and then up again.

“Yeah,” he says, quiet, breathless, almost to himself, before looking up, something hopeful and brilliant shining in his eyes, so familiar that it physically hurts, even as Foolish’s smile grows wider. For a second, it’s Dream, seventeen, lip stuck out stubbornly as he taunts the universe for daring to limit him with something as simple as impossibility - Foolish watching, proud, then. Watching, proud, now. “Yeah, I am.”

[apricotluvr]

[mlmxreader]

Clothed In the Sun | Oberyn Martell x Male!Reader

request; Hey I wanted to request either Oberyn Martell or Spawn (completely different people but hey, why not) and the prompt “why do you always steal my clothes?”. Thought this would be especially funny with spawn seeing as the suit should be fused to him. Much appreciated, enjoy your day. + Oh yeah sorry I was the person who requested either spawn or Oberyn Martell. I completely forgot to mention could it be male reader? Thank you again. - anon

summary; you spend a bit of time in the garden with Oberyn.

warnings; a little bit raunchy near the end but nothing too bad

author’s note; okay, so I went w Oberyn bc me and my dad have been rewatching Game of Thrones, so I figured why not djfkdjkgk

Oberyn didn't mind that he often went without a shirt for more time than was necessary, days were hot and long in Dorne, days were made to be spent in the sun with a good book and enough wine to drown an elephant, days were meant to be spent with the heat of the sun on someone's back; days in Dorne were the closest thing to a blessing that could ever be described and felt.

Not every day was hot, though, today it certainly wasn't, not with the wind brushing through with an icy hand, the edges of its fingertips gracing the shadows more than the spots of sun; it was more temperate today, not so much hot, not so much cold unless if someone was sat in the shade. But out in the gardens where the sun seemed to become trapped, the wind seemed to have ceased to exist altogether. The wind didn't dare to flick the corners of the pages of poems that Oberyn was writing, deciding to spend the day creating beautiful images with words as opposed to concerning himself with his poisons - he spent all day yesterday doing that.

The birds still chirped and the bees still buzzed and the wasps still whispered and the cats still purred as they all came and went from the lush and green garden; dogs were too big to fit through the small gaps in the walls that were mostly there just to hold up the climbing plants, and their cries of envy could be heard outside, baying and barking.

But then one dog's bark was louder, closer than the rest, and when Oberyn turned his head to the side, he smiled; stood in one of his finest shirts and a pair of raggedy and worn and torn trousers and a pair of beaten up and muddy and practically more hole than leather boots, was you. Oberyn's boyfriend.

"I found a friend," you admitted, crouching down beside the dog. It was a large dog, standing at just above your hip, with shaggy and matted dark brown fur on its back and head, a cream underbelly and tip of the tail and face, little specks of yellowish brown fur above its eyes that made it look like it had eyebrows. "I asked the owner, they had him tied up outside with no food or water, and they said I could have him."

Oberyn didn't much care for pets, he didn't hate them, but all the same, he was quite often too busy to look after an animal; even still, when he saw the sadness in the dog's brown eyes, and when he caught your gaze to find that pleading look, he nodded, and dared to let his smile grow a little. "I'm sure there's plenty for him to eat in the kitchen."

You grinned madly, running off with the dog at your heels and disappearing; it allowed Oberyn a moment to read through the most recent lines he had written, but when you came back, crashing down onto the nearest plant pot and resting your chin on his arm, he lost all focus on the poem. No words could ever truly express what he felt for you, paramour came to mind although that wasn't quite up to the same level, no words could ever truly capture how handsome you were, how much you made him smile and lose focus in everything he was doing, no words could truly and perfectly capture you in ink. Your heart, your mind, no words could do them justice.

"What are you writing?"

The curiosity in your voice was so evident, your eyes widening slightly as you smiled up at him, your hands holding onto his arm on either side of your chin so lightly that Oberyn almost forgot about your fingertips on his bare skin.

"A poem," he replied, "but it's not doing my muse justice."

"What do you mean?" You asked, your gaze going to the pages and how beautiful Oberyn's handwriting was. You could read thousands of pages of it and never falter in thinking it was the most beautiful writing that you had ever seen.

"You," he explained, "I wanted to write a poem about you, but nothing does you justice."

You pulled back, laying your hands flat behind you on the corners of the plant pot, warm stone beneath your skin as you tilted your head back to the sun and closed your eyes, smiling. "You should take a break, enjoy the sunshine before the long winter comes."

Oberyn set his quill down, sighing as he turned to look at you, tilting his head to the side as he smiled, only one thing coming to mind. "Why do you always steal my clothes?"

"They're soft," you hummed. "And they're always warm and snug - it's like being clothed in the sun."

Clothed in the sun, he thought as his eyes drifted to the fabric of the shirt and the details upon it; little red suns dotting the golden fabric of the shirt, little red suns perfectly sewn into the material; basking in the sun, too... Oberyn couldn't help but to crack a smile - you really were clothed in the sun that day.

"Come with me," Oberyn said suddenly. "To King's Landing, come with me."

You gestured for him to come sit on your lap, and when he did, you eagerly wrapped your arms around his waist as you sighed. "I don't think I'd fit in, my prince, I'd only cause trouble for you."

"The good kind of trouble," he growled, moving around a little so that he could gently kiss and nip at your neck, his hands on your biceps as he hummed lowly. "I want you there with me."

You did want to go with him, but King's Landing was a far different place to Dorne; the people there would stab one another in the back for the most petty of offenses, they lied and stole from one another and called it friendship, the Lannisters were the worst. The Lannisters were the worst of the worst, in fact. They would kill their own family if it meant an extra ounce of power - perhaps Tyrion, the one that Oberyn had exchanged ravens with here and there, was different but you doubted it.

"How badly do you want me there?" You asked lowly, bucking your hips slowly and with great purpose, which only made Oberyn smirk as he pulled back.

"Enough that it hurts," he replied, "enough to show you how badly, if you'd let me."

[cinnamonest]

I’m pushing out another one of my long-since-drafted things to the queue bc I’m trying to start keeping the queue active 24/7 and fill more asks but have this in the meantime

//dark shit, like the blood gore violence kind of yandere not the hot kind, brief animal death, gruesome slow npc death, gore, violence, blood, decaying/putrefaction mention

I'm really bad at judging what's mild versus severe when it comes to gore/blood bc I tend to underestimate, I think this is kinda severe? Let me know which it is actually pls so I have a better idea for the future ---------------------------------------- I mentioned a while back in the corpse disposal post and murder methods post that Razor can be... Brutal to say the least, but to expand more on the concept I feel like there's a big potential for a sort of gap moe with him, a duality that seems to contradict itself. Because in many ways he's a sweetheart, always trying to find things to make you happy, often smiling with those wide, excited eyes, physically affectionate with nuzzles and the like. But the other side of that, he's not actually aware of how... desensitized he is. You notice it early on and it catches you off guard a bit the first time it happens. Some poor little animal you two see struggling, like a bird stuck in a tree, and you urge him to go get it and he nods and says ok. Grabs it, and just as you're about to thank him and let it go you hear its little bones snap under the crush of his grip with a final pained chirp. There, he got it, see? Now you two can eat it together. That was why you wanted him to grab it right? To kill it? Why else? He looks down and realizes oh, it's still twitching, so he reached a hand up and twists its neck. There, now it's dead, he says with a beaming smile. But it falls and he tilts his head when he sees the shocked look on your face. What's wrong? Why are you so upset? You soon learn a lot of the animals don't... die immediately. The little things the wolves drag back are still kicking and struggling, still making noises as they tear into them to devour. It makes you sick to your stomach when you witness it, tears come to your eyes. He knows you don't like it and warns you, but... he doesn't understand why? Why does it upset you like that? He doesn't get it. It's a gnawing awareness in the back of your mind. You start to pick up on his... lack of reactions to certain things. You were once in the church getting healing for a minor wound of his when another group of adventurers came rushing through the doors, desperately begging for help for their friend they were carrying... some guy seriously injured, gored by a boar. The sight is burned in your mind forever, the organs spilling out of his split gut, the shivering and wide, bloodshot eyes, the blood bubbling out of his mouth with choked horrific groans and the way his body convulsed involuntarily. The most horrid thing you'd ever seen. And you were pretty certain it was that way for everyone. Everyone in the church was gasping, some people were retching and trying to hold back sickness, people ran out of the room as they were unable to handle the scene, tears were in everyone's eyes, and as the man wailed in agony from them setting his dislocated bones, you watched the bystanders cringe and wince. Every person in the vicinity was visibly horrified.... except for one. Razor's face was neutral. Curious. He leaned in closer to get a better look, eyebrows raised. He doesn't flinch at the sight of organs spilling onto the ground and the man starting to convulse and foam at the mouth as his eyes roll back into his head. And then, after a moment, he asks if you're ready to leave, says he feels better now and that man is really loud, he doesn't like it. His voice doesn't even have the slightest hint of a wavering or discomfort. When you come across a man in the woods caught in a bear trap, you can barely stand to look at it. Just hearing the cries for help had you shivering, and the sight of the pooling blood and utter agony on the man's face had you gasping, hand over your mouth as you tried to look away. ...Razor didn't seem to mind, though. He just undoes the trap and, without giving the man any warning, yanks it apart, pulling the spikes from his legs. As he does, blood shoots out and splatters on his face. He doesn't flinch, nor when the man screams. He does finally seem to react to the pained groans the man makes. But... It's not like your reactions. He's not flinching and grimacing, drawing in sharp breaths and tensing up, eyes watering in pity and shock like you. Instead, his eyes narrow and he puts his hands over his ears as you stoop down to help the poor man. His eyebrows furrow. He almost looks... Annoyed. He draws his foot back as if he's about to kick him, but freezes with realization when he looks at you, as if he forgot you were standing there, and puts his foot back down. You're certain he wasn't actually going to do that, of course. You're not sure why he did that, but... He wouldn't do something like that, even in a moment of dissociation from his human awareness. He does volunteer to be the one to go get help, though, getting away fast, but for some reason you sense it was more out of irritation at the noise rather than horror at the whole thing. Perhaps the worst was the decomposing body, that day you took a walk in the woods together. He smelled it first, nose wrinkling up in disgust at the putrid smell. But it was strong enough that you smelled it soon after. He says having dead animals this close to the residence of the pack is not good, they all hate the smell, so he can try to move the carcass of whatever animal it is... but it's not an animal, it turns out, once you finally find the source, collapsed at the bottom of a cliff from where they most likely fell to their death. Well, it's kind of a stretch to say it still resembles a human either, but you can tell from the general shape. It's more just like a glob, putrefied and rotting flesh falling off the bones. It shocks you so much you fall backwards, but he just moves closer. Ugh, too far rotted to move, he can't do anything about it, he realizes as he gives the decaying mass a kick and watches the blackened flesh slide off the bones. Oh well. ...In your shock, it takes you a moment to realize how... unbothered he seems. Mildly annoyed by the smell, but his expression is neutral as he looks at one of the most horrifying sights you've ever seen, he just yawns as he walks away from it and says you two should get away from the smell, it makes his head hurt.

The events all linger in the back of your head. A growing sense of wrongness, a dark, cold dread that settles in your stomach as the occurrences slowly grow in number, one after the other, each time you notice the complete lack of any sign of disturbance on his face, in his voice or body language. You ask him once, one time when you get the courage to ask such a... potentially offensive question. Don't you... feel anything when you see things dying? When they're in pain? He nods. He gets what you mean. The feeling when you watch something die. Hungry, right? Oh, no? Maybe you mean the irritation, a kind of angry feeling, what's the word... impatient...? Because the thing is taking too long to die and he wants it to go ahead and die already. Or maybe you mean like when that man was injured? When something is dying but it's not something you wanna eat? Yeah, he has a feeling then too. Um... kind of like anger... you taught him the word once... annoyed? They make so much noise, and he doesn't like loud things. When that man came into the church... he didn't like how loud it was. Why didn't they just kill him, since he was making so much noise...? He doesn't get it. When things annoy him, he kills them, like loud birds and biting bugs. He kinda had an urge to just... reach out and make the man stop screaming, just twist his neck like he does small animals when they make too much noise. But he's smart, he says, he knows the other people might get mad. Yes, he uses the word "might," not "would," as if it was a mere possibility. So it doesn't really come as a surprise when the same attitude applies to the people at his own mercy, the people that get too close to you and end up dragged out to the woods. It's that same knowing dread in your gut, and while it horrifies you as much as it always has, you wouldn't have expected anything else. Maybe some people would feel bad about what they're doing, they would want to go ahead and get it over with, they couldn't take the begging and agony the other party is in... but not only is he totally unbothered, but if he kills him now, he says, the blood will go all over the ground, and that's bad, his lupical like eating the blood in things. So he just snaps the man's bones, that way he won't run away. It's hard to describe the excruciated noises that come out of the other's throat when he does. It's unlike any noise you've ever heard a human make, that kind of pain. The sweat that pours from the other's skin from the agony, the way his mouth hangs open even when he can't scream anymore, the trembling and muffled begging as he moves to the next limb. You tremble and cry. You shiver uncontrollably, you whimper for him to stop. Your eyes widen when he grabs each limb and you close your eyes and sob and grimace and cringe with the snapping sound. Razor, on the other hand, stays just as neutral as before. Face blank and empty, as if performing any other mundane task. He doesn't flinch at the snapping. His expression is unchanging at the sound of screams and the groans as he drags the still-living figure behind him by his shattered ankle all the way back home. When he finally goes to look back at you, he tilts his head at the look on your face. Why do you still look upset? There's no blood yet... isn't it blood that makes you upset? Maybe not? Maybe it's the sound that bothers you? Yeah, you flinch whenever the man groans in pain, so it must be the sounds of the dying things that you don't like, it annoys him too really. Ok, that can be fixed... sound comes from the throat right? Well, he left his claymore a ways away so, it'll just take a second, the guy is thrashing a bit but eventually he holds him still enough to get his teeth latched around his throat and just... bites down. The sound is a squelching, crunching sound, one that you'll never forget, it makes every hair on your body stand on end and your skin crawl. He pulls back with the mass of bleeding flesh and tracheal tissue in his jaws and spits it out on the ground. There, see...? You can see the blood on his teeth reflecting the light as he smiles. He's not making noises anymore, so... why do you still have that look on your face? Is it because the body on the ground is all... spasming and convulsing like that? Well, uh... that'll stop soon, probably. At least it's nice and quiet now. He gets it, really, he doesn't like loud noises either.

[volfoss]

Team Bucciarati pet headcanons:

(long post under the cut)

Giorno Giovanna:

He would definitely have pet frogs and in his big office, probably a really big terrarium

I think he'd have probably a few frogs but I can see him having an Asian painted frog and a reticulated glass frog

He would be the actual best frog dad and I can see him letting them just chill on his shoulder during meetings

Would probably get random frogs off the street too so his frogs don't get lonely

He'd name them slightly goofy names or let one of the gang name them

When Giorno gets overwhelmed from work, he'll just put some gloves on and hold the frogs for a bit

He has a lot of experience caring for them, because as soon as he realized he could have a pet, he went into research overdrive

Gio is also in change of taking care of Coco Jumbo, and dotes on the turtle a lot! At this point his entire room is nearly a terrarium.

Pannacotta Fugo:

Pannacotta really admires ferrets because of how smart and mischievous they are but didn't feel like he could take care of one because of how he struggles to control his emotions

He brought it up offhand after Narancia got his gerbils and Narancia had no hesitation to help Pannacotta care for a ferret in exchange for help with schoolwork

They went to a lot of pet stores until they found a rescue with a few ferrets left

The second he laid eyes on this adorable white ferret who was napping, Pannacotta's mind was set, this was the pet for him

The ferret immediately snuggled right up to him when he held it

The whole way home (Giorno drove), he was brainstorming names

The first night, he woke up panicked as Purple Haze was out and just watching the ferret, but watching the ferret run around the large enclosure that the gang worked together to get built

PH seemed oddly peaceful but that didn't help Pannacotta feel less worried that it was out, but as the night went on, he found that spending time and playing with the ferret made him feel more comfortable around it in general

Narancia Ghirga:

Definitely a gerbil and probably begged Bruno to take him to a pet store to get one which then turned into two because he couldn't resist the two he found

He would probably keep one or both in his pockets around the house and sneak them little scraps of Bruno's cooking at the dinner table

His favorite thing is seeing them use the toys he got for them or when they sleep on top of each other

Would probably name them adjectives, like Stuzzichine or Coccolone and give them semi ridiculous nicknames

Would keep them on his lap when the gang has a movie night and loves when they fall asleep on him

Trish Una:

Trish really likes lovebirds and has an affinity for birds which she found out when Giorno made her a bird out of paperwork for her birthday

She had to go and get another one so they could play with each other. The trip to the rescue had involved the entire family since no one wanted to turn her down when she looked that excited.

Trish took a while picking one out, as she needed to make sure that they would get along with the bird at home, but she settled on a very cheerful peach-faced lovebird

The entire ride home, the bird was leaning into her head pets and being generally noisy

Trish likes to sing or hum and the birds will chirp along with her

When she works on schoolwork, the birds will perch on her shoulder often times to try and get her attention, which makes schoolwork take a long time. She absolutely loves doting on them

Trish takes the absolute best care of them and gets them the finest things!

Guido Mista:

Dog has 3 legs bc luck

Guido adopted a stray Doberman Pinscher on his way back from a solo mission without telling anyone, other than Giorno who was about to head out when Guido was sneaking into the base

Obviously he couldn't just leave the poor thing there when it was looking at him with those eyes, and he was fairly certain that the actual zoo they had in their base would not be helped by a big dog, but he wasn't going to let Vivian ( he had already named her after the main character of his favorite movie) limp around with no home

Giorno helped smuggle her in since barely anyone else was home, and sent Narancia off to get some dog supplies while he helped Guido get Vivian settled

They helped get her all clean, which was difficult with her tail wagging at a rapid pace, and water was all over the bathroom by the time that they were done

The two of them got the dog all comfy on Mista's (very ugly and questionably patterned) bedspread and she snuggled right up to Guido the second he laid down

The Sex Pistols love the dog too, and find themselves resting on her when she sleeps since Vivian is so warm and riding on her back when she's being played with

Guido is already used to giving the Pistols food, but now he also has a dog (although he doesn't give her a ton of human food) to feed

It doesn't take too long for the rest of the group to realize there is a big dog, especially when Guido trains Vivian a lot during the day or is outside playing with her

Giorno has offered multiple times to make a leg for her missing leg, but Mista insists she's fine without one (and he won't admit that the tetraphobia makes it hard to think about her having 4 legs instead of her 3)

Vivian gets along well with the rest of the pets, thanks to a lot of training and steady introductions to everyone else

Bruno Bucciarati:

He and Leone have had cats for years, although he's constantly the instigating force to bring new animals in (including all the kids pets), he has a massive soft spot for strays

He's the very best cat dad and has blankets quite literally everywhere possible to give the cats as many options to lay and built cat ledges for their windows so the cats can bask in the sun

Has a lint roller in the car because the cats love, love, love to lay on his clothes when he sets them out for a shower. He learned his lesson with his lingerie and does not have that set out after one of the cats clawed into it and destroyed it

Bruno can and will walk the cats if the weather is permitting

He just started bringing the strays home one day, and Leone didn't notice until the 2nd cat started clawing up his pants while he was wearing them

Bruno, in contrast to Leone's bad names, gives the cats some extremely cheesy nicknames and has no shame using them in public

One of the strays that they brought in initially was a very young kitten, and he stayed up all night (ignoring the meeting/job he had the next day) to care for it and make sure it was alright

He SPOILS these cats rotten and they have multiple cat towers around their room because of that

The cats also have customized collars and they are all color coordinated

Bruno really relies on the cats if the memories of somehow surviving the fight become too strong, as the cats can really sense when he's stressed and huddle around him

The cats really like to bat at his zippers, so he makes sure to change out of his suit when he knows he'll be home for the rest of the night

Leone Abbacchio:

So. Many. Cats.

As much as Leone gripes about the fur on his clothes, he loves when the cats come in and keep him company when he's winding down for the day with a good book

He swears he doesn't mean to keep adopting cats but they tend to show up at the base or Bruno sneaks another one home

He has a few blankets piled up under the windowsills so the cats can lay there, but often finds them all on his bed or trailing behind him

He tends to feed strays when they come but tries to not get attached

Has the actual worst names for them and refuses to change even when the rest of the family judges him for it

He often wakes up surrounded by cats or having one lay on his face

Leone and Bruno have had cats for years so are practiced cat dads by now

The kids often will just come and grab a cat if they need a stress reliever

Leone will not admit it but he wakes up early to feed the cats wet food and tries to be stealthy about it

As for cat breeds, most of theirs aren't purebred, but their cats that they know for sure are breeds are semi close to being a Bengal and a Cornish Rex

He keeps toys for them in his bedside table to make sure they don't wake him or Bruno up in the middle of the night with wanting to play (they do anyways)

If he's sitting anywhere, there's a very high chance there's a cat on his lap or laying on his chest if he's reclining

All of the cats are incredibly attached to him and when he's on a mission, they'll wait in a group at the front door until he returns

[nancywheelxr]

i'm not sure if you prefer more specific prompts but if you have any interest, something canon-era (compliant or divergence) in the realm of "ye baiyi & every- or anyone"? whichever characters you wanna include; a moment or moments where he feels like maybe there is a little more to the rest of his life than duty and death. it's not only warm food he's been starved of for decades. your writing is great, i hope you're having a good day!

hi! thank you sm! i love getting prompts regardless, honestly, the only difference is that more specific ones tend to get done faster if only bc I already have a loose idea where to go with it! anyway, this somehow turned into a fix-it. that being said, I hope you’re having a lovely day too!

*

i.

They’re so painfully young.

A bird chirps in a tree somewhere nearby and around the fire, Qin Huaizhang’s disciple throws the blanket on the Wen brat’s face. What set off his sensibilities this time, Ye Baiyi doesn’t know, it might have been the perceived coddling, it might have simply been the fussing– either way, it’s pointless. Does he not know the brat will simply wait until he’s asleep to cover him? Does he not know their ridiculous dance around each other is nothing but time wasted?

How do the young ever get anything done?

Foolish. Have they ever been that foolish? Changqing, he knows, was a most ridiculous man with even more ridiculous ideas– who’s the bigger idiot, then, the fool or the one who loves him? 

“Ye-qianbei,” the boy appears at his side, wide-eyed like a newborn deer and with legs as shaky as one too, “if you’re cold, we have more blankets.”

The absurdity of the situation– to ask Ye Baiyi if he’s cold! What’s the night chill compared to the snowy grounds of his mountain? To him, is this not warm weather? “Little fool,” he says, shaking his head even as he laughs, “you’d do better worrying about your idiot master and his idiot friend.”

The kid looks across the fire, grimaces. “I don’t dare, I don’t dare! My brothers used to tell me not to get in the way when my parents were arguing!”

What a ridiculous child. Ye Baiyi laughs again. “They’re not arguing, they’re being dumb. Watch this,” he flicks a little rock at them, hitting Qin Huaizhang’s disciple in the forehead and earning an outraged glare from the Wen brat. “Qing Huaizhang’s disciple, your disciple is freezing off while you’re fooling around. Is this how you the two of you are going to raise your child?”

Beside him, the kid makes a startled little noise like a scared little rabbit before launching into a stuttering denial, but it’s too late, Qin Huaizhang’s disciple has already turned to focus on him as if smelling blood. “Chengling, are you cold? Why didn’t you say so?”

“Ah, no, no, I’m really not,” he tries, but he is, he wouldn’t have known to worry about others if he hadn’t been feeling the chill himself. “Ye-qianbei! Ye-qianbei–”

“Ah, ah!” Wen Kexing interrupts, shaking a finger in his direction, “why are you calling him? Come here, have this blanket since your Shifu is being stubborn.”

The boy goes obediently, shuffling around and nearly tripping on the log, and allows the Wen brat to wrap the blanket around his shoulders. Predictably, once he’s tucked in, the kid beams, pulling it tightly around himself. 

“Chengling, if you’re cold, you have to tell us,” says Qin Huaizhang’s disciple as if that’s a scolding, as if he’s not fussing over the child himself, stoking the fire and throwing in more kindling. 

A silly child with even sillier parents. Ye Baiyi snorts, shaking his head, and for a fleeting moment, he imagines walking this path alone– searching for the truth on his own, a silent forest stretching all the way to Longyuan Cabinet, only his footsteps left behind to prove he was even there at all– whatever. Picking up Qin Huaizhang’s dumb disciple and his dumb companions might not have been his worst decision so far. 

Maybe he could have found the place already if he were on his own, but at the very least they’re entertaining. Ridiculous, he thinks fondly, shaking his head at the blanket the kid has left folded at his feet.

*

ii.

What a mess.

Rong Xuan, you little brat, he thinks. How long has it been since the boy had first toddled up to him, little hands grabbing fistfuls of his robes? Too many, an eternity, and now nearly all of the boy’s friends are dead, all but one, and Ye Baiyi has to pay his respects to this freshly dug grave in his place. 

What a mess.

If you were in trouble, why didn’t you come back? Questions, questions, it’s too easy to ask them now. Why didn’t you ask for help? Why didn’t you send for us? Why did you think it would accomplish, running away? Stupid child, did you think we would turn you away? 

No, there’s no use asking them now, no point in dwelling in the past. What is there to change, after it already happened? Life is a very long road and the past is a land too distant to travel back to; Ye Baiyi would rather focus on the now.

Avenging their child had not been part of the promise he made to Changqing, but Ye Baiyi found the truth of this matter as he told him he would and the truth of it is that someone poisoned his disciple, his child. This cannot go unpunished, so for a while longer, he’ll live.

Further still, a little ways down, is Wen Kexing, whose parents died for Rong Xuan’s mistakes. A child growing up in a harsh world on his own. This debt, he’ll repay too.

For all that he gives his promises away like currency, Ye Baiyi is not sure how he feels about the piling of them– they stretch his finally numbered days, always pushing the deadline further. After the Heroes Conference, he’ll be done with the Ghost Valley. After he finds Rong Xuan’s murderer, he’ll be done with this mess. After he repays Wen Kexing, he will be at peace. 

And then–

Well. And then wine. Warm food. That was the plan, was it not? Heavens, he’s beginning to sound like Qin Huaizhang’s silly disciple, isn’t he? This won’t do. Changqing, even you would laugh at them. Tell me, then, if you were here, what would you do? Ah, something nonsensical, most likely, like go watch the plum trees bloom.

Ye Baiyi shakes his head, laughs. Changqing ah, won’t you tell me what to do? Maybe this time I’ll listen to you.

*

iii.

What kind of nonsense is this?

In all fairness, as much as his opinion of Wen Kexing has been as changing as the seasons, his uncanny ability to be an annoying nuisance has never flickered. He was annoying when he was staring down Ye Baiyi’s sword and he was annoying when he kneeled on the forest bed in apology and plea. 

Surely, it’s no surprise that he is annoying now, allegedly dead.

And yet, Ye Baiyi had not anticipated this level of stupidity from him: the brat did not tell Qin Huaizhang’s disciple of his plan.

Children, honestly. 

Now, the hem of his robes is wet and a few feet away, Qin Huaizhang’s disciple is wasting perfectly good wine in an unnecessarily dramatic manner. “Whatever stupid thing you’re planning,” Ye Baiyi says, eyeing the broken jar by the rocks, the dullness around the brat, “don’t.”

Zhou Zishu whirls on him with all the grace of a dying wet cat as if he’s in any condition to be fighting anyone, as if his hands weren’t shaking and his steps didn’t falter. The sword, once elegant and proud, wavers. Stupid boy. “Ye Baiyi, you–”

“Have you lost your manners down that jar? Or just your common sense? Put that away before I knock it off your hand myself,” he sighs, shaking his head. He should have stayed in his rooms, like planned, until the Heroes Conference; none of this has anything to do with him, his role in this play is mostly over, he just has to wait it out the intermission. And yet. “What kind of nonsense were you thinking? That fool, Wen Kexing, ran around for days like a headless chicken trying to save you and for what? You to throw it away?”

“What’s the point?” Qin Huaizhang’s disciple laughs, cold as the mountains, “what’s the point if he’s not here? Tell me, qianbei, why should I care to live if my soulmate is gone?”

His sword is dragging up the mud and Ye Baiyi wants to call him disrespectful for it, but the sight of it alone dredges up a well of grief that drowns the words in his throat. Why, indeed. This terrible emptiness, Ye Baiyi knows well– the hollow silence that comes where once a familiar voice called your name, the cold where once there was warmth, a hand never reaching back. Snow, all through summer and spring.

“Because that dumb disciple of yours will not last a day on his own,” he tells him, watching the water run towards the cliff’s edge, “because Qin Huaizhang has only you to pass on his legacy. Because that ridiculous hairpin on your head.”

“That’s not fair,” Qin Huaizhang’s disciple says, sounding exactly like he had been about to do something incredibly stupid earlier that would render this entire charade pointless from the start.

Truth be told, few things are, least of all, fate. Ah, but Ye Baiyi had unchanging decades to come to terms with that, perhaps he should spare the boy the heartache, unfounded as it is. “It’s not, but enough is enough. What are you crying for? Did you think it’s that easy to get rid of that pest? He should be ashamed if a little tumble is all it took.”

“Qianbei… you mean?”

Ye Baiyi heaves a pointedly tired sigh. “Yes, yes, the brat is alive. Probably holed up somewhere in that blasted valley of his.”

Qin Huaizhang’s disciple is as wide-eyed as his baby-deer disciple and if he actually starts crying, Ye Baiyi will drag Wen Kexing out of hiding kicking and screaming just to push him down the cliff again for making him witness this. He’s too old, he has little patience for the dramatics of the young, and he’s supposed to be drinking the best wine from the Yueyang area. 

So before he’s pulled even further into their nonsense, Ye Baiyi turns away, back to town and his quarters where he can drink and meditate in peace and really, Qin-xiaozi, your disciple is even sillier than you. 

At his back, he hears Zhou Zishu call, but his voice is lost to the waterfalls and Ye Baiyi makes no real effort to catch the words. What’s there to say? Pah, he’s already done more than his share on this, at no point did he promise to intervene on their pointless little dance. Once this is all over, that brat has better pay for all the wine in the land. And make those dumplings, too, for good measure.

*

iv.

Nobody told him whose wedding this is.

Considering they are in this thrice-damned place, he’s assuming it’s one of the ghosts, but Ye Baiyi figures the brat would be more annoying if it was his and Qin Huaizhang’s disciple’s. Then again, his own presence here is unfathomable, as is the insistence with which the little idiot had asked him to come. What on earth has Qin Huaizhang’s disciple told that child? Give someone an inch and they’ll take a mile, truly– now that boy is running around thinking Ye Baiyi cares about these lunatics.

“Who let him in!” Wen Kexing is screeching from somewhere, and Ye Baiyi mourns his peace as the brat approaches with his purple shadow trailing after. Had she been there this entire time? He squints. No, he would have noticed it, she’s very loud. “Old toad monster! Why are you still here? Who allowed you past the gates?”

“Who are you to tell me where to go?” He scoffs, flicking his sleeves as he crosses his arms. Nearby, a ghost hastily scurries away. “And it was your dumb disciple who begged me to be here. For what? Will there even be a banquet? And you call that decorations? That lantern is so crooked, it’s offensive!”

The purple child bristles. “Ah! And who does that silly boy think he is, inviting people to my wedding! Old man, you! Of course there’s gonna be food! Master and Luo-yi have been–”

“A-Xiang!” The brat cuts her off, closed fan tapping her forehead, as if everyone and their grandmothers don’t already know he’s been running around making preparations. What face is there to save, shameless as he is? If Ye Baiyi was a lesser man, he might have rolled his eyes. “Stop running your mouth, what is your husband going to say? And you! What crooked lantern? You’re going blind in your age!”

Still, even as he speaks, a pointed glare sends the ghosts scattering like mice, rushing to check on the decorations. Ridiculous. “No wonder the girl has no manners. What, you only know how to be polite when asking for something?”

Wen Kexing grumbles. “This one apologizes, qianbei.”

Well, that’s certainly worse. Unsettling. If even Wen Kexing starts being deferential, then what has the world come to? No, Ye Baiyi finds he’d prefer the brashness. Stupid child, what’s the point in changing his tune now? Pah. “Girl,” he says to that purple wisp of a thing, “your master is a pest. Where’s the wine?”

Baffling enough, the girl laughs, tugging at her master’s sleeves. “Master, master, Zishu-ge was right! You did make a friend!”

“What nonsense is this! Don’t you know when A-Xu is teasing? Friends! As if–”

“What rubbish have you been filling these children’s heads with?” He shakes a threatening finger in their direction. Not that it matters, considering the girl has already stepped back, giggling as she sidesteps Wen Kexing’s fan. 

Leaving them to their childishness, Ye Baiyi slips out of the crowd, picking a jar of wine as he goes. The alcohol is good, burning down his throat, and he hadn’t thought he’d step foot in the Ghost Valley, not like this. Something in him will always recoil at this place, always lay the blame at the valley’s mouth, a yawning jaw that’s swallowed whole the people most precious to him with no mercy. 

And yet, Changqing ah, you bastard, look at it. They’re holding a damned wedding, and here Ye Baiyi is, drinking their wine. Are you happy now? Did you become a bodhisattva yet? Fate makes fools of them all, there’s no way around it. He pours the wine over the rocks, lets it spill and run like blood. Xuan’er, did I not tell you not to climb so high? That shifu wouldn’t always be there to catch you if you slip on the ice? Ye Baiyi laughs at the memory– always clear in his mind, suspended in time, unfading, even if his sight blurs with tears– that boy, always scaring them half to death, climbing up the frozen mountainside as a child, then crying in fright once he looked down. 

“Look at the mess you’ve both left me,” he says out loud, downing the rest of the wine, and the silence is never quite as loud as in the hollow space where another would speak. For so long, Ye Baiyi knew to leave room for Changqing’s teasing, for their child’s incessant questions, even Rong-furen’s tired voice. Then, nothing. “What do you have to say for yourself, hm? Typical. I’ll drink for all of us this time, then, how about it? Changqing, I’m keeping my promises, so you’d better keep yours or I’ll–” 

The jar breaks where it falls from his fingers and he shakes his head as if dispelling the murky thoughts from his head. Perhaps, coming here was a mistake. The ashes have already been sent back to Changming, so what business does he have in this place? To see it closed with his own eyes? Besides, a wedding or two, a handful of people, are not worth the bloodshed creating the valley has brought, no matter what Changqing might say. 

Is this a comforting story to be told later, if– by the bridge, in case– 

His thoughts grind to a halt, veering off suddenly into attention to his surroundings. Someone is coming. Indeed, from his place near the entrance, Ye Baiyi can see in the distance a mob climbing up the path, silent as thieves in the night, with only a blue streak of disciples in plain sight at the front.

So much for avoiding bloodshed. Did they even wait for the dust to settle after the monks left town? And what kind of harebrained scheme is this? Has this generation been born with no brains? Such a reckless, petty move! No honor, agreeing to something and then plunging the knife behind their backs. 

There is little time to curse their dishonesty, though, with their numbers fast approaching, so Ye Baiyi swipes a last look at the desolate landscape and slips back inside to sound the alarms. After all, heaven knows that little purple girl will be terribly loud if she doesn’t get her wedding, and Ye Baiyi is not looking forward to remembering what headaches feel like. Honestly, if these people would stop nearly dying for five fucking minutes–

*

v.

Today, the mirror showed a new patch of white hair, faint lines at the corner of his eyes. 

Time, it seems, is catching up to him.

It’s exhilarating.

The plum trees have already lost their blossoms, winter gone as swiftly as it came, the cold melting to the lingering warmth of spring. Today, he walks past blooming azaleas, purple and red radiant against the blue backdrop of the sky.

It brings him to little Qin Huaizhang standing beside Rong Xuan, trying so very hard to impress his friend’s seniors with all the desperation of youth. The poetry he had waxed about his sect’s gardens– Four Seasons Manor, blooming all year round! Ye Baiyi had found him so silly, blabbering while Rong Xuan beamed, so quick to pick the fights Rong Xuan dropped. 

At the time, had he not thought history was repeating itself, if kinder? The Baiyi sword, gifted with the promise to keep his dumb disciple out of trouble? He still remembers Changqing’s face, the hypocrite. So exchanging swords for cursed books is fine, but anything else and you draw the line? At least promises were as reliable as the person making them. 

Now, he has to admit, the silly boy had not been wrong– Four Seasons Manor stands in more color than Ye Baiyi had thought possible. If he’ll have time to witness all its blooms, he doesn’t know, but this spring, he’s here, and isn’t that enough?

At the gates, the young disciple lets him in without a word, bowing respectfully like his seniors have never done. Good. At the very least, those two good-for-nothing brats had the decency to forewarn their juniors of his arrival. How long has it been since Qin Huaizhang’s disciple woke up from the procedure? Aiyah, Ye Baiyi can’t remember, he had been traveling south at the time. 

Well, it’s long enough to be past the need for coddling, that’s for sure. “Qin Huaizhang’s disciple, what kind of Sect Leader are you that you won’t come greet your esteemed guest?”

“Not really a Sect Leader,” comes the voice from his left as Zhou Zishu rounds into view, his silly disciple trailing faithfully after him. He looks better now, death no longer draped over his shoulders like a shroud, smiling like he found peace somewhere in the months since that disastrous wedding. “Qianbei, this one is honored to welcome you to our house. You’ve come at a good time, A-Xiang is visiting with her husband too.”

“Who’s an esteemed guest here? All I’m hearing is a bunch of freeloaders!” says Wen Kexing from somewhere inside the building, just as loud and brash as always, and following his words, the thundering footsteps of children. 

Ye Baiyi snorts, shakes his head. Changqing ah, wait a little while longer, will you? I’m on my way, but I have some places to visit first. Meet me by the bridge, I’ll tell you all about it in a bit.

[winetae]

wall to wall (m.) 02

— female reader x hoseok

— smut, porn star!au

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

— 19.7k 

… 

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

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

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

part 01 | part 02 | part 03

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.

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

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

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

“Shit, sorry!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Since you last dicked me down, goes unsaid.

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t—”

“My treat.”

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

It’s that easy.

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

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

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

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

Your eyes meet.

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

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

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

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

“Oh.”

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

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

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

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

An awkward silence ensues.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Next time.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I was with Hoseok, actually.”

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

You contemplate ending the call.

Begrudgingly you concur, “Yes. That one.”

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

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

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

“How so?”

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

“Wh- Are you serious?!”

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

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

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

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

Seokjin understands and empathizes with your excitement more than anybody.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s just that...the timing is bad.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.

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

Director Ryu vehemently protests.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, Hoseok.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You changed up your hair.”

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

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

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

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

Your smile becomes stiff.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hoseok’s features soften.

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

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

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

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

“...So, you dance?”

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

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

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

“Here’s a recent one.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well... I guess I—”

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

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

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

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

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

“Is something on your mind?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Someone behind you gags dramatically. “Absolutely sickening.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His gaze sweeps over the clipboard sitting in his hands.

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

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

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

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

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

“Yep.”

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

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

“Oh! Yes, that sounds fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you feel any pain anywhere?”

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

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

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

Your brows lift. “Oh. Sure, why not.”

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

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

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

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

A shudder runs down your spine.

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

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

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

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

“Hmm...”

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

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

“Yeah… I can definitely feel it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But it isn’t enough, is it?”

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

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

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

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

“Ah!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that...a bad thing?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Just - Just once…”

“Look at me.”

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

“You’re telling me the truth, right?”

“Yes! I’m not - I wouldn’t lie.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You flinch, your face impossibly hot.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Um, what does this massage entail exactly?”

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

You pretend to mull it over.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You blink curiously back at Hoseok, feigning ignorance.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shall we begin?”

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

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

You moan your assent. “More than.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You loosen up well.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His crude remarks make your body flush with heat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your lower body clenches as his words wash over you.

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

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

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

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

“Shit.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s quite frankly obscene.

You’ve never felt more turned on.

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

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

“Okay. Two holes down, one to go.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You slut.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh yeah?”

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

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

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

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

“Babe!”

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

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

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

Just on cue your stomach lets out a grumble.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure.”

He kisses your cheek and scampers away.

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

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

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

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

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

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(2) new notifications

JHOPE94 has followed you!

JHOPE94 has mentioned you in their story.

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

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

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

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

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