#fxrbidden

Behind the scene, things were far darker, far more twisted. It was no simple whim, no mere lusting over a model. Taeon's interest bordered obsession, surpassing the limits of online interactions under some throwaway account. Boys who were just like him in his teens, who definitely had an easier time following a gorgeous pink head around town than struggle in the streets with dealing and violence. Easy points, easy money. And a whole file, comprised of the places Hikari frequented, people in his life, his schedule.

📱➝ 𝙭𝙝𝙩869 𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙖𝙜𝙚: how much to meet irl doll?

That session, Taeon was determined, that session would be the last he'd spent behind the screen of his phone pleasuring himself over the little antics of that boy.

📱➝ 𝙭𝙝𝙩869 𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖 𝙩𝙞𝙥: + $100 📱➝ 𝙭𝙝𝙩869 𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙖𝙜𝙚: just to get u thinkin

He fucking hated this, watching his best friend with them. They were so fucking wrong for each other.... It was part of why Nox didn't visit more often.. it hurt. Hed been in love with the other for almost as long as he'd known them, and in that time he'd had to watch them go through a revolving door of people that were so fucking wrong for them.

Nox kept his mouth shut because he'd admitted his feelings once and been turned down, more or less. It'd been back when they'd first met, back before Nox had started living in his van and traveling, back before his writing career had kicked off. They'd been drunk and he'd told them he'd loved them, with all of his heart. "Dont." had been the reply, the immediate refusal. And so he hadn't. He'd tucked it all back inside and.... channeled it into all 4 books he'd written over the last 6 years.

"I do have a job, you know," Astin chuckled, glancing at the door. It had been amusing when Hanuel jokingly tied Astin's wrist to the bed, but with the hours creeping by that morning, Astin was beginning to worry about his job. At the very least, he should arrange for someone to watch his class for the day. Still trying to keep the humor up, Astin gingerly pulled at the rope.

junseo hasn't been on the streets long. he's still learning how to survive, though his shitty childhood has given him a sliver of a head start. nights hadn't been a problem while it was warm, he'd stolen a sleeping bag from some camping store and had made the most of the pleasant weather. but now that it's starting to get cold, he doesn't know what to do. there are other people he could ask, some older men who have been living like this for longer than he has. but every time he sees them, they're dirty, or drunk, or they remind him of his father. better to avoid them, he thinks, unless he's sniffing after a cigarette or two.

but there is someone else he can ask. junseo's never spoken to him, but he's seen him around a few times. enough to ask the others about him and conjure up a name. he's younger, and that makes junseo feel less on edge. he hates asking people for help. it's why he prefers to steal over begging. but if he doesn't come up with a solution soon, he's going to end up freezing to death in a shop doorway. it's taken a few days for him to spot the stranger again, and every fibre of junseo's being tells him not to go over to him, not to show weakness, but he pushes past it. he can hate himself for it later, once he knows somewhere warm to stay. ❝ it's mimi, right? ❞