#I want to kiss the director of photography on the mouth

[sassmill]

What’s wrong babe? You’re thinking about Glinda’s face before she is handed the torch to light the funeral effigy of her friend? Her best friend who was fundamental to the woman she has become? The woman that she abandoned at the most pivotal moment of their lives in an act of cowardice that she has spent the rest of her life running from? Her best friend that, through her own lack of action when it counted most, is widely believed to have deserved her murder?

[mymanreedus]

How did you use Danny Lyon’s book to build your character?

There are pictures of Funny Sonny in Danny’s book, but not a lot. In the photographs of Sonny, he’s having a great time, and looks like the funnest guy in the room, so I went in that direction.

Your character certainly has a striking look! Tell me about those rotten teeth — did you have some fun with those?

Yeah, I’ve never really done anything with fake teeth before.  I had Greg Nicotero’s special effects team with me in Paris for Daryl Dixon, so I had them make the teeth. To get used to them, I’d wear them on the plane on my way to Ohio [to film The Bikeriders] and try and order my Diet Coke with the teeth in. Then when I got to Ohio, I went to Target in the teeth, went to Starbucks in the teeth, and eventually I got used to talking with them in.

Jeff is such a collaborative director, he really listens to the actors and is up for new ideas. Hence the teeth, and the beard, and that whole look. When I look at old photography books, I think, “What was happening during this photograph? Who’s that lady standing in the background? What’s her story?” And I think Jeff did a really good job of capturing these memories and bringing them to life in the film. The time period, the motorcycles, the attitudes, the clothing. It’s all such a vibe.

In the book, there’s a picture of Sonny kissing another member of the club, like a full open-mouthed, big kiss. When I got to the set, I asked Jeff, “Should I be looking at the character like we might have a relationship in the future?” He just said no, that the movie was about Benny’s relationship. But then I saw Danny backstage at the Los Angeles premiere, and I told him that I’d always wanted to know about that photograph, and whether they were a couple. He goes, “No, they were just f***ing around, screwing with me for the camera.” So it was nice to be able to get the true story from the photographer who took the picture.

[elk96]

Hey, this just occurred to me haha

I was wondering if you could do a male dom reader x Cillian, please. 🫶

Where the reader and Cillian had a relationship when they were younger but Cillian decided to end it for x reason and each one went their own way and made their lives, from that day on he didn't hear from Cillian again, until after a while the reader goes to a premiere and they meet again, making the reader remember him and the moments they had as a couple, falling in love with Cillian again

I'm sorry for my bad English.

We Will Make It Work

Cillian Murphy X Male Reader

Warnings: smut, anal sex, oral sex

Words: 2559

No disrespect to Cillian Murphy, it's just a story.

The atmosphere at the premiere was dazzling, photographers, reporters, haughty actors. You blinked harshly as the flash of the camera blinded your eyes. An arm slipped through yours, you flinched as the director of the movie came next to you. Her white dress came in sharp contrast with your dark, red suit, but so did your temperaments. You had been working as director of photography in television and films for almost fifteen years now, but you had yet to get accustomed to the intense lifestyle of the job. You tried your best not to θαscrunch your face as the woman next to you smiled for the cameras. 

"Come on, let's go", she said sweetly, tagging your sleeve, and you followed her through a sea of people, only to find yourself nearer the center stage. 

It was a double premiere that day, a shared date for the two movies released together. You realized you had come to where the stars of the other film were, much to your confusion. 

"It's so good to see you, it's been a long time", your partner said. You snapped your head at her place.

Your breath itched. 

"Yeah, I know -good to see you too", the man in front of her answered shyly. 

His accent is a lot more subtle, you thought immediately, still too surprised to speak.

"Um, meet Y/N", she introduced you, nodding to extend your arm for the customary handshake.

He smiled before you could even draw in a second breath.

"Oh, we actually know each other", he said with his soft voice. "We used to hang around, some ages ago".

"You're making me look old as well"!, you complained, the memories easing your anxiety. 

"But that's lovely"!, the woman next to you exclaimed. "I've wanted you to meet for so long, you seem to have the same style in work so I thought a collaboration would be ideal"!

"Y/N! They're asking for you buddy-hello everybody. Come on"!, urged one of the movie's actors, and you let him guide you away. 

Your relationship wasn't as casual as Cillian had made it seem. You could still see him in your mind as he was back then, that disheveled mop, the little scar on his chin, his skinny form. 

He hadn't aged a day, you smiled, apart perhaps from those laugh lines in his eyes and around his mouth, the deep wrinkles on his forehead. 

Funny enough, the smell of sunscreen and sea air engulfed you- the perfume of one of the ladies attending, and it took you back to your very first kiss.

You were casually sitting by the dock near his family house at Cork, early in the morning, waiting for the rest of your friends to arrive. The seagulls were diving in the sea searching for fish, the sun sparkled at the even surface of the water. Cillian was picking up the wood, going on and on about life and how he wanted to change things in Ireland. And then, the world felt silent, and he came to sit closer to you, shoulder to shoulder, a large hand coming up to the side of your neck.

You had leaned in without second thought, pressing your mouth against his soft, plump lips. He'd clumped to your lap soon after, hands roaming each other's bodies, sincere and passionate as young love is.

You shivered on the memory, feeling your heartbeat flutter under your chest.

You tried to observe him from afar without ignoring too much the ones talking to you. He still seemed shy. Still, stiff, polite, flashing everybody gracious smiles. 

   It had been fifteen years. Fifteen years you had barely heard of him, and that only through some crappy interviews. Gradually, new things had come into your life, travels, friends, you'd managed to fill the gap in your chest.

Seeing him so unexpectedly made you realize the pull on you he had still. 

—--

"And this is your room card sir, enjoy your stay", the receptionist said, her mouth pulling in a grimace that resembled a smile. You took them with slow moves, huffing and picking up your baggage. You climbed up the stairs in heavy steps, unaware of the pair of eyes pinned to your form.

You laid in your bed, tossing and turning as the night went on. 

I should've called. Found a way

somehow, you repeated in your foggy mind. 

After the best year of your life, your relationship came to an end. You had received a scholarship in Budapest, ensuring the best possible development for your career. 

Perhaps humans were too powerful to stay together, and so Zeus separated them, you remembered the old myth.

Cillian's aunt had fallen sick, and since his siblings were little and had to stay with his parents, he was the only one who could take care of her. That, and the job opportunities ahead led him to London.

It was still painful to recall your last day together, because you both knew it was the world getting between you, and who could fight the whole world? 

A knock on your door sent you jumping to your feet. You held your breath, listening in for another noise. Nothing came. You sighed in annoyance-you and your damned nerves, but as you buried yourself under the cushions, you heard a soft voice. An unmistakable voice, calling out your name.

You very much ran to open the door.

"Cillian"?, you blurted out, seeing him outside your room still in his suit.

"Hello…Um, I…asked the receptionist for the number of your room…and I've been trying to gather the courage to come to you for two hours now…".

He gave you another one of his cute, shy smiles and you felt your knees go weak.

"Come on in", you said simply, your voice hoarse. 

He sat at the edge of your small bed, accepting the cup of tea you offered him.

"Those insulated bottles are amazing, I made some tea to help me sleep and it's still warm", you muttered just to fill the silence.

"Yet you're still awake", Cillian said sympathetically.

You cast him a long gaze, letting the feeling of familiarity settle inside your stomach. Fifteen years can be a long time, actually, almost everything had changed.

You tried to shake off the heat pooling in your stomach and heart. He had just come to talk.

"I had things in my mind", you answered at last.

"Your film was amazing. Best cinematography I've seen in a long time".

You smiled, his soft voice music to your ears, taking you back to times when he'd so passionately encourage you to follow your dream.

"You were right after all. I did have what it took to succeed".

Cillian nodded in agreement, his fairy, freckled skin illuminated by a small lamp.

"What happened to your aunt"?, you asked hesitantly.

"She's all right. She needed a lot of care and help for the first eight months, but now, she's fine. Living with my parents".

"I'm glad to hear that. What else? What has changed in your life since then, Cilly"?, you laughed and watched him swallow harshly at the nickname.

"Not much. I've been blessed with some truly amazing projects…but nothing interesting and not work related", he huffed, lost in thought. "You? 'd you find anyone…good"?

You lowered your eyes, a slight smile tagging at the edge of your lips. I wouldn't be here if I had, you wanted to say, but after all this time you were lacking the courage.

"No. Not yet. To be honest, I'm kind of convinced I'll end up spending all my money on cat food", you chuckled.

Cillian laughed along with you, his eyes creasing in the corners.

You took a sip of your tea as he fidgeted with his fingers. Both of you searched desperately for a topic to talk about but suddenly all things in life seemed incredibly dull, unimportant.

You waited for him to say something, explain why he'd come to your room in the middle of the night…until you remembered he was never one to take the first step.

"You need to take off that suit, you know? It looks fucking uncomfortable", you mumbled, observing his face.

Cillian sighed deeply, shivering slightly as your lips brushed the fabric of his shirt. You waited, feeling your pulse beat in every part of your body. 

The rejection you feared never came. Before you knew it your lips were touching the soft skin of his neck, feeling his warmth. You re-adjusted your position, a hand running over his chest and stomach as you licked behind his ear, biting his earlobe. 

"You don't know how long I've been waiting for this", Cillian breathed, tilting his head back. You nipped at his skin, hearing his breath itch as you worked your way to his mouth. 

He wrapped his arms around you, lips crushing against each other in a feverish kiss. You sucked on his tongue, making him moan loudly. 

"I want you", he murmured in between the kisses. "I want you. I've missed you".

A growl escaped you as you helped him off his shirt, pushing him on the bed, climbing on top of him. You took a minute to admire his body, thin and toned as you remembered it. You sucked at the column of his neck, enjoying the slight bruising of the skin. You kissed his nipple, tagging at it softly with your lips. Cillian's chest was falling and rising rapidly, already overwhelmed with the sensations. 

During your first month or so he would hold back, hide his reactions, tone down his responses. You'd had to make him lose complete control of himself to actually, finally hear him, and ever since, you settled for no less. 

You licked a long stripe down his stomach, teasing the thin skin between his ribs. 

"Hurry up", Cillian complained with a whine.

You bit his lips in a harsh kiss before doing what he wanted, unbuttoning and getting rid of his pants. You tagged at his underwear and soon it was gone as well, leaving you with the sight of his throbbing cock, his big balls.  

You spat on his head, teasing it with the tip of your tongue while your wet hands massaged his balls. 

You took one of it in your mouth, sucking lightly, watching him in awe arch his back. 

You smeared the precum all over his cock, a devilish smile on your face. 

"Stop teasing Y/N", he threatened, his voice in complete contrast to his needy whine. 

"Or what"?, you asked, taking both his balls into your mouth. Cillian yelped in pain and pleasure as you grazed them with your teeth, sucking strongly. Your hand pumped his cock in tight, small motions and soon his moans reached your ears. You raised your head, fisting his dick, taking in his form. Mouth open, eyes tightly shut, head fallen back, fingers twisted in the sheets. His breath was erratic.

"You gonna cum Cilly"?, you asked hoarsely. "Mmh"?

You ducked your head, burying his cock in your throat.

"Yeah…don't stop", he answered through his groans, his words cut short as his orgasm hit him.

He whined and trembled, thick ropes of cum spilling in your mouth. You tried not to swallow it, enjoying his salty taste. 

Once he fell heaving to the mattress you climbed on top of him, arms pressing him down. He opened his mouth to receive your kiss, and you connected your lips eagerly. 

"Swallow".

Cillian smiled, swallowing his cum, finding your lips again in a sloppy kiss.

"I'm talented with my mouth too", he whispered, his arm finding your cock.

You looked him in the eyes, your gaze endearing, his defiant. You turned your body, your back facing the ceiling, cock pressed forcefully against Cillian's mouth. 

You groaned softly as he began sucking on it, tongue swirling over your slit.

"I've missed you", you said again, eyes fluttering shut. Cillian moaned to show his agreement, sending reverberations through your whole body.

You then raised his legs, folding them over your head, finding his hole. You rubbed circles around the tight skin, pushing a finger inside.

Cillian moaned again, and soon the room was filled with the sloppy sounds of tongue against flesh, your fingers opening him up slowly for your cock, moans you had been waiting years to release.

"Stop", you said after a while. Cillian was still eagerly taking you deep, ignoring the strain in his neck.

"You filthy bastard", you chuckled, getting away from him before it all ended too soon. Cillian smiled at you, lips shining spit, and you trapped him underneath you, kissing him hungrily.

With a disappointed groan you got of the bed, searching his drawer for a condom. You rolled it over your shaft quickly, going back to him.

Your moves synchronized, you both got on your knees, Cillian's back pressed tight against your chest. You ran your hands over his taut bodice, rubbing his cock as you entered him slowly. His brows connected into a frown, mouth falling open.

"So how does it feel to have me fill you after all these years"? you whispered in his ear. 

You started moving, slow and sensual, enjoying his tightness.

"I wanna hear you love". You thrusted harder, slow but deep.

Cillian let out a long whine.

"That's better". 

"Harder. I want it harder", he begged.

You grabbed his arms, folding them over his stomach, using them to keep yourself steady. You snapped your hips quickly, growling like an animal in his ear. His whines kept getting smaller and smaller, signaling his orgasm. You took his cock in your hands, fucking him harder than any other time before.

"I'm close, 'm close Y/N", he breathed out.

"Cum for me Cilly", you growled, your own head getting foggy and heavy as your orgasm hit you. You had strength for a few more sloppy thrusts, Cillian's cock softening in your hand.

You felt him collapse onto you, too far gone in pleasure.

You kissed his neck tenderly, revisiting your lovemarks from earlier.

"The make-up artist is gonna kill me tomorrow", he murmured.

"I'm not sure you'll be able to go down the stairs love. Unless I pull out".

Cillian whined in complaint but your position left no other option. You pulled out of him, throwing the condom away quickly.

Cillian was lying limp in the covers as you left him. 

"Wore you off"?, you asked cheekily. 

"You wish, you bastard", he bit back laughing. You hugged him tightly, pulling the covers over your naked body, carefully avoiding the wet spot on the sheets.

"I've been thinking about you. All these years, no matter who I'd meet", Cillian whispered, his voice raspy.

You kissed him softly, admiring his beauty once again.

"What's gonna happen now"? he whispered.

You sucked in a deep breath. Everything that had happened suddenly felt more real with his question. You'd broken up not because of lack of love, but because your lives were so different…and now…Had that really changed now?

"Do you love me"?, you asked, looking into his beautiful eyes. 

"I love you Y/N".

"Then we'll make it work. Because I love you too Cilly".

You brushed his cheekbones, your heart full of the warmth and happiness you'd always associated with his smell.

"I've never been happier to attend a premiere", he whispered, giving you a peck on the lips. 

Cillian settled against your chest, a content little sight leaving him before he was fast asleep. 

Any form of interaction is always highly appreciated!!!

[kidsomeday]

Just finished watching Mandy (2018) and I absolutely loved it. My exactly kinda of dreamy bloody nightmare.

Some thoughts:

- I have never taken shrooms but I sort of imagine this is what a bad trip is like.

- Nic Cage is at his absolutely best unhinged and covered in blood.

-“What are you hunting?

“Jesus freaks.”

“Didn’t know they were in season.”

- Richard Blake was in one scene as The Chemist and it might be my favorite scene in the movie, absolutely stellar. There’s a tiger there for no reason except for fuck you, it’s cool, that’s why.

- Nic Cage using a heavy chain to murder someone while hunting for revenge officially makes this an infinitely better Ghostrider movie than Ghostrider.

- Are there actually demons? Strange gods? Other worlds? Or is it all drugs and visual mindfucks? Does it matter? (No.)

- The scene where they’re talking about planets all sleepy and curled up at night manages to capture the absolute best part of being with someone.

- The movie is sensual and gorgeous in the most horrific ways yet even in the scenes that are blatantly about sex it never feels like it’s attempting to be sexy, because of the circumstances. Brilliantly done.

- The scariest parts of this movie are the ways it could really happen.

- CHAINSAW FIGHT CHAINSAW FIGHT

- I want to find whoever did the lighting for this movie and kiss them on the mouth. (After looking at IMDB I’m going to assume it’s Director of Photography Benjamin Loeb.)

-CHEDDAR GOBLIN

[zombee]

I've got an AU idea if you're still looking for any: newbie director Stede ends up working with big Hollywood star Blackbeard. It can be a bit meta inspired too (like maybe Ed has lost his passion for acting but found it again, just like Taika did with OFMD).

thank you so much for this prompt! i wrote it on a translatlantic flight on my phone and it kept me sane.

it turned out to pretty much be PWP so i’m sorry and/or you’re welcome.

rated E, no archive warnings apply

~*~

When Edward Teach said yes to Stede Bonnet's film directorial debut, he had been over the moon. An actual celebrity - a superstar really - in Stede's little period piece. Ed was gracious and polite, if a bit closed off, but Stede supposed he would be too, if he was that famous. 

Well, he had been gracious and polite. Until now. They were filming The Kissing Scene, the first time his two leads kissed, and Stede knew exactly how he wanted it to go. It was too sexy, or too tame, or the hands weren’t right– a hundred little things that were leaving Stede unsatisfied. It was take forty-eight and they had been sort of yelling at each other since take thirty-six.

"Just fuckin show me yourself then, Christ!" Ed said.

There was a silence on the set. No one had done much talking since about take twenty-seven, except Stede and Ed and his other lead. But this was the kind of silence you could feel in your chest.

"Pardon?" Stede's voice was a little strangled.

"'Tender, a bit awkward, yet deeply passionate.'" Ed was quoting him. "Come here and show me what you want from me."

Of course Ed was handsome. Devastatingly so, if Stede had to give it an adverb. But he was so far out of Stede's league he had not even fantasized about what it might be like to kiss or touch him. Much.

"Ah," Stede said. "Alright then."

Stede sidled toward Ed and the other lead scampered away.

"So Benjamin knows he's in love, but Francis doesn't."

"Yeah, yeah, I read the script." Ed put one hand on Stede's shoulder like he had been directed to for the last hour. "Ready?"

Stede nodded. Ed leaned in. His lips were a bit chapped, but still very soft. Stede closed his eyes and reached up for the collar of Ed's shirt. And then he quite lost the plot, turning his head for a better angle, opening his mouth without thinking about it, kissing wet and sloppy as Ed tugged himself closer and moved both hands to Stede's face. This went on for a while, until the director of photography coughed loudly. 

They wrenched away from each other. Ed was breathing hard and Stede was too, one hand on his chest where his heart was crashing against his ribs.

He wasn't sure he had ever been kissed like that before.

"Uh," Ed said. "Sorry?"

He didn't look sorry and Stede didn't want him to be.

"Two to tango, and all that," he said, stupidly. "That is– maybe we try again, with a bit less tongue this time. One hundred percent less tongue, actually."

Ed nodded. He put his hand on Stede's shoulder again. They kissed, chaste at first, then more passionate as Stede, standing in for Francis, acclimated to the surprise and reciprocated. Ed threw his other arm around him and their faces pressed together with desperation. It was not as hot as the making out had been, but it was still pretty unbelievable.

The director of photography coughed again.

"A bit– a bit like that," Stede said. "Pull yourself closer when you feel him start to reciprocate, maybe that's what's missing."

Ed looked a little dazed. He nodded.

Stede wasn't sure if they actually nailed the next take, or if he was just reeling. Either way, he declared them finished with the scene, and called for the lunch break.

A little bit later, the PA found him. "Ed would like to see you in his trailer."

Stede took a deep breath and walked to the trailer and knocked.

"S'open!" Ed called from inside.

Stede pushed inside. Ed's trailer was pretty spartan, but it was only a twenty day shoot. There were five days left, and for the first time Stede was a little glum that they were almost finished.

"Hey." Ed was sitting at the little table, a bottle of very nice bourbon and two glasses in front of him. He gestured for Stede to sit. "I'm not usually in the habit of drinking mid-shoot, but I think we could both use it today. Bourbon okay?"

"Peachy," said Stede, stupidly.

Ed snorted as Stede sat down. He poured them both a few fingers and they clinked glasses before taking their sips. 

"I'm sorry for going all diva out there," Ed said. "Kissing scenes are always weird."

"You're hardly to blame. If anyone is the diva, it's me."

Ed grinned at him. Stede couldn't stop looking at his mouth.

"You're something, alright.” Ed looked down into his drink before looking up at Stede again. “Do you know why I said yes to this movie?"

"Because it's a good script?" 

"Well, sure, yeah, but I get a dozen good scripts a day. And those are only the ones my manager even lets me see. There's the queer rep, of course, that's fucking cool. But mostly, it was because of you."

"Oh?"

"The balls it took to even ask! I looked you up– just a weird rich banker who quit his job to direct indie films? Who does that?"

"I spent so long not doing what I wanted. I've been divorced for five years, out for four, and while I had fun for a few years after that, ah, exploring intimacy–"

"Fucking around, you mean?" 

"If you want to be crude about it."

"I do." 

"You know, before today, I thought you were polite?"

"Edward Teach is polite. Ed is a bastard."

Stede chortled and took a sip of his bourbon. "At any rate, I had all this money and I wanted to do something meaningful with it. I've always loved film. Lucius had a script and I thought, how hard could it be?"

"And? Is it hard?"

"Only when my star goes diva on me because he can't figure out how to kiss right."

Ed laughed. "I think I proved I can kiss just fine."

Stede looked at Ed's mouth again. Ed noticed him looking. He took a long, lascivious drink, holding eye contact. 

"You're not half bad yourself," Ed said. "Most directors aren't quite so… hands on."

"If I recall correctly, it was you who demanded I get 'hands on.'"

"Been wanting to get hands on with you since I walked on set, to be honest."

Stede choked on his drink. "Pardon?"

"C'mon. You flirt with me like, all the time. And everyone knows I'm a little gone for you."

"Pardon?"

Ed put a hand to his forehead, closed his eyes, and sighed deeply. "Lucius was right. You had no idea."

Stede was flummoxed. Ed was one of People’s Sexiest Men Alive about ten years ago, and he had only gotten hotter. And Stede was– well, it wasn’t exactly like he had trouble finding people to sleep with. But not men like this. "About– but– you're Edward Teach?" 

"Even celebrities get horny, Stede." 

"But– I– truly?"

Ed downed the rest of his drink, stood up, and walked over to the trailer couch. He sat and patted the space next to him. "I can prove it, if you want."

"Is that– appropriate? I'm your employer."

Ed shrugged. "I don't really give a shit. Do you?"

Stede hesitated. Ed's face fell. "You can tell me no. I've used up my asshole quotient for the day, I won't be shitty about it."

Stede peered down into his drink and swirled it around. He took his last swallow. "Far be it for me to say no to Edward Teach."

He looked up. Ed was beaming. Stede got up and sat next to him on the couch. They looked at each other for a beat and then they were kissing, messy and urgent, a little more teeth than was comfortable but Stede didn't care. They found their rhythm quickly and oh, Stede was certain Ed must have ruined every man he had ever kissed. 

He pushed Ed down onto his back and nipped at his lower lip. Ed groaned and slid his hands down to grope at Stede's ass. Stede moved his mouth to Ed's neck, nuzzling into his beard, licking until he found a spot that made Ed shudder. He bit down and sucked and Ed made a noise Stede knew he would not forget any time soon.

They were both hard now. Stede slotted his thigh between Ed's legs and Ed pushed against it and thrashed.

"Please, Stede–"

Stede slipped his hand under Ed's shirt and found his nipple. He swiped at it with his thumb and Ed pushed into his thigh again.

"Shirt– I want–" Ed said. Stede lifted up off him just a bit so he could get his shirt off. Ed tugged at the hem of Stede's shirt too, so Stede removed it. He leaned back down and they were kissing again. It was even more electric with the skin to skin contact. Heat was pooling in Stede's lower belly, and his erection was almost unbearable in the confines of his pants. As if reading his mind, Ed started groping blindly at the buckle of Stede's belt. 

Ed broke away from Stede's mouth. "I bet you have a fantastic dick. Can I suck it?" 

Stede shuddered and nodded. He pushed Ed's hands away and undid his belt himself. Ed wiggled out from beneath him and threw one of the couch cushions on the ground. He knelt on it and indicated that Stede should sit up in front of him. He obliged, and Ed undid his pants and drew out his cock.

"Fantastic." He was looking at Stede's cock like it was the best thing he had ever seen. He gripped it lightly. "Just like I thought. Will you fuck me sometime?" 

Stede's brain short circuited for a second thinking that he might get to have this again. That this man wanted him that badly.

"Yes, yes, of course, anything, Ed, anything you want." His babbling cut off with a short hiss as Ed moved his hand up and down in a firm stroke.

"Pull my hair," Ed said. He licked up Stede's balls and shaft in one long stripe and looked up through his lashes. Stede clutched at the couch on either side of him. "My hair, Stede, c'mon."

Stede did not need to be told a third time. He spared a moment of silent apology to Frenchie in hair and make up and then sank his fingers into Ed's hair and tugged. Ed hummed with approval and swirled his tongue around the head of Stede's cock. He put his mouth around it and sucked. Stede pulled at his hair and groaned. Ed took him a little deeper in his mouth, working his tongue, making obscene little slurping noises and gripping Stede even tighter in his hand. Stede tugged sharply and sucked in a breath when Ed took him all the way down to the hilt until he felt himself hit the back of his throat.

"God, fuck, Ed."

Ed popped Stede's cock out of his mouth and worked the shaft with his hand. "Yeah? You like that?"

"Ngh, yes."

"You've thought about this before?" 

"Maybe not quite like thi– ah!" 

Ed put his mouth around him again and sucked his cheeks in. Stede was no stranger to blowjobs, but this was something else. He was impossibly hard, and Ed's tongue and hands felt so good, Stede's mouth started running without a lot of input from his brain.

"You might be a better cocksucker than actor. And you're a fantastic actor. I used to– fucking hell, Ed, yes, do that again– I used to jerk off to that one scene in Angel Among Us. Is the anchor tattoo real?" 

"Mmhmm," Ed said, lips still wrapped around Stede.

"You'll have to show me. I want to taste it. I want to taste every part of you. I could spend hours just eating you out. I can't believe you're on your knees for me. You're doing so well, darling,  swallowing my cock like you were born to do it."

Ed shuddered and sucked hard. Stede could feel his balls tightening up against his body. He started thrusting, hands clenching in Ed's hair. Ed kept making these mewling sounds of approval and it was that as much as his mouth that had Stede moaning.

"I'm close, Ed, I'm going to come–" 

"Mmhmm," Ed said again. He was choking a little, taking Stede even deeper, whining with his own pleasure. Stede cried out and came hot and hard down Ed's throat.

Ed swallowed every drop and pulled backward. He smiled up at Stede.

"How'd I do?" 

"Fuck off," Stede said weakly.

"Actors thrive on positive reviews."

"Ten out of ten stars. Or whatever."

Ed pushed himself up and back onto the couch while Stede tucked himself away. 

"Kissing okay?" Ed asked. 

"Yes, yes–"

Ed tasted like bourbon and come and if Stede was just a little bit younger, he would be ready to go again just from that.

"What can I do for you?" he said, after a little while. He palmed Ed through his pants.

"You don't have to–" 

"Ed. Please. Don't make me beg."

Ed grinned and glanced at his phone. "We don't have much time left. I'm close anyway. Can you just jerk me off? And then I want to come on your tits."

Stede startled. "My what?" 

"Your tits, mate. They're incredible. I've been daydreaming about them since you wore that slutty little v neck day two of filming."

"That is actually a custom piece from a very famous designer–"

Ed kissed him to shut him up, which was fair. They really didn't have much time. After a few stops and starts, Ed had his pants undone and his cock out. Stede wrapped a hand around it and tugged. Ed swore.

"How do you like it?" Stede said. "Rough and fast? Slow and steady?" He demonstrated each option as he named them. 

"Don't tease me. Just–" He wrapped a hand around Stede's and showed him a pace and angle he liked. When Stede caught the rhythm, Ed pulled away and leaned against the back of the couch.

"Fuck yeah, yes, Stede. Just like that. Tell me what else you want to do to me."

"I want to finger you until you can't see straight. Then I want to fuck you from behind and pull your hair so hard you scream with it. I could come down your throat every day for the rest of my life, Ed, you're magnificent."

"I'm–" Ed said. "Stop, lay back, I'm gonna–"

Stede let go and let himself be pushed down onto the couch. Ed straddled him and stroked himself, groaning deep and guttural, until he let out a harsh moan and came all over Stede's chest.

They panted together for a second, holding eye contact. And then they both started laughing.

"Twenty years in the business and I've never fucked a director, can you believe it?" Ed said.

"What, you got famous just on talent? Unheard of."

"Nah, I just fucked casting directors instead."

Stede giggled as Ed pushed himself off of him and the couch.

"Er," Stede said. "Could you perhaps fetch me something to clean off with?" 

"Just a second. Can I…?" Ed had his phone out and was pointing the camera at Stede.

"Oh dear. You're not going to share it on Instagram or something?" 

"Fuck, no, of course not. This is just for the spank bank."

Stede flopped backward. "Alright. I don't– what should I do with my face?"

"You can just smile. Yeah. Perfect." Ed snapped the pic and went to get Stede a towel. After he cleaned up and they were both fully clothed again, Stede felt a little shy.

"I'm sorry again, for all the takes. The scene is just important to me."

"I get it. You're a lunatic, but I like it. I haven't had this much fun on a set in years."

Stede smiled. "Really?" 

"Really really."

They did their best to arrange their hair and clothing to look like they hadn't just had sex in a small trailer. They didn't do a very good job, because when the John the costume designer saw Ed, he shrieked.

"Tell me you did not just have sex in your costume. Do you know how much time that embroidery took? Frenchie!" 

The man in question hurried over. "Is that a hickey?" he said. "Stede, I know this is new for you, but we do not give our lead actors hickies when we are mid shoot!"

Stede was a bit too post-coital blissed out to let the criticism stick, so he just shrugged.

"It's my fault," Ed said.

"You gave yourself a hickey?" Frenchie said.

"Well, no, but I should have known better about the costume."

Frenchie gave a long suffering sigh and ushered Ed to the makeup chair to touch him up. John followed with the steamer, muttering darkly under his breath.

Lucius sidled over to Stede. "You lost me twenty bucks. I thought he wouldn't have the nerve until after the shoot was over."

"Apparently having a blow out fight with your lead actor that turns into a make out session does tend to hasten things along."

"You're being shockingly cool about this. I mean, the man has two million Instagram followers. He's famous-famous."

"Even celebrities get horny, Lucius."

Lucius snorted. "But like. He likes you Stede, do you get that?"

"Of course he likes me. We just had sex."

"No, Stede. He likes you."

Stede glanced over at Ed, who gave him a goofy grin and waved.

"Really?" 

"Yes. Obviously. If you don't like him back you need to tell him."

Stede's phone buzzed and he pulled it out. Ed had sent him a picture of a cat with a v neck on with the caption, "it's you."

"Never mind," said Lucius. "You're already a goner."

"Hm? Can you help me find a picture of a cat with a beard?"

"No. I cannot. Good bye."

~*~

if you’d like to read more of my stuff, i’m CartoonMayor on AO3!

[dissecthebird]

cannot even begin to meaningfully articulate how crazy that crane shot at the end of episode 8 makes me. like for years we have been saying narratively positioning two characters’ close friendship at the center of a story makes 4 a really compelling romance if you decide to read yourself as a gay person into it. but regardless you still have to do the work of reading into it, because those characters’ relationship will get put on the backburner or theyll say something thats not very tragically in love with their best friend of them or some other thing will happen that reminds you you are not, in fact, watching the beats of an intentionally-written love story that will eventually pay off play out. and mostly just inventing layers of television that are more fun than the television happening in front of your face. and so to be able to physically point out the parts of a scene and instead of that being ‘camera lingers a little longer’ or whatever its. ‘the capture of the entire ship by people who super extremely want them dead takes a complete backseat to the fact that ed came back, finished off by this relatively uncommon and very cool looking ride-off-into-the-sunset ass shot that is completely and unambiguously communicating that these two, who are in love, are the heart of this show.’ like the implication for the characters in that moment is that they are PROBABLY ALL GOING TO DIE. and yet you really are just supposed to think ‘oh thank god eds back’!!!!! thats the closing moment of the episode!!! there is no forcing yourself into the text because it already agrees with you!!!! & i know im literally just saying ‘oh my god the romcom is written and shot like a romcom’ but OHHHH MY GOD. the romcom is written and shot like a romcom. cynthia pushek director of photography for season 1 episode 8 we gull way back i am kissing you ON the mouth

[lunar-jimin]

life goes on, it gets so heavy; the wheel breaks the butterfly

Pairing: Jungkook x fem!reading

Rating: 18+

Genre: smut, angst, fluffy ending, ceo!jungkook, secretary!reader

Word Count: 10k

Warnings: cheating, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, using pulling out as a protective method (don’t do this kids), dom!jungkook, sub!reader, cumming in pants, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, daddy kink, degradation, lovey-dovey sex, impreg kink

Summary: Despite being the golden heir of a wealthy empire, Jungkook is incredibly unhappy with life he’s been handed. When you show up in his office one morning, you change his life in the way he least expected, but in the way he needed the most. 

a/n: This is an anonymous commission for my BLM fundraiser!! If you would like to request something yourself, you can find the link to my official post here! I would also like to thank the lovely @nightowls388​ for beta reading!!

| masterlist | moodboard | playlist |

The air was too hot. Uncomfortable. Sticky. Jungkook loosened the tie around his neck in a desperate attempt to free himself from the confines of his suit. He hated August. It was always too warm, too sunny. He preferred the dark winter days where the snow silenced the universal white noise. Black suits weren’t as suffocating on forty degree days.

He glanced out the window of the Rolls Royce, taking in the pedestrians struggling not to melt in the intense gaze of the sun. He sympathized with their struggle. Even the blast of freezing draft from the air conditioner did little to spare him from the heat. He enjoyed watching people. He was fascinated by the little idiosyncrasies that formed them into unique individuals, each essential to making the world work. Besides, everyone’s life seemed more interesting to him than his own.

There was a point in his life when he was content with the plan his parents had laid out for him before he was in diapers. He looked forward to one day taking over his father’s company, marrying a nice girl, and starting a family. It was a simple plan and one that gained the approval of the adults in his life: something he was constantly vying for as an adolescent. It was what he was raised with. When he went to college, everything changed. For the first time in his existence, he wasn’t being inundated with his parent’s doctrine and found that there was more to life than running Fortune 500 companies. His parents were less than pleased to discover that he had accompanied his business major with a minor in photography. 

But despite the longing that had bloomed in him for something more intriguing than sterile offices and mundane board meetings, he still found himself back home where his parents once again instilled in him the desire to be the golden heir. A year after his return as the prodigal son, his parents set him with the woman who was now his wife. Three years after that, his father decided that he would rather spend his days on the golfing green rather than in sky-high conference rooms, so he handed off the company to Jungkook. Ever since Jungkook had been locked inside stuffy black suits and boring ties. And he absolutely hated it. 

He squirmed in his seat, his desire to escape increasing with each second he was locked in the back of the car. God, why was it so hot? He felt like crying- a feeling that had become increasingly common during the past six months. His brain felt like a bubbling volcano waiting patiently to explode. Sometimes, Jungkook imagined what would happen when it did. He would divorce his wife, leave his job, and move to some island in the Caribbean where he would spend the rest of his days taking pictures. It was a nice dream, but it was only that, a dream. 

He shook his head, trying to contain his runaway emotions. As the car came to a halt in front of the office building, Jungkook tightened his tie and grabbed his briefcase before exiting out into the scalding heat. If inside the car was bad, outside was absolute hell. It was so hot, Jungkook swore he was on fire. He frowned, rushing into the safety of the air-conditioned skyscraper in front of him before he broke out in a sweat. 

He sighed in relief the second he made it through the rotating doors. He had never been so grateful for the large air conditioning bill in all his life. His relief was so immense that it took a full minute to realize something was wrong. Normally, the second he walked through the door, his secretary greeted him with an iced coffee and a pastry, but as he looked around, his secretary was nowhere to be found. Yet another sigh escaped his mouth as he stepped into the elevator. Why of all days did today have to be the day his secretary magically disappeared? He shook his head. 

He noticed her the minute he arrived at his office floor. She was bent over a box, all her attention focused on searching for whatever object was eluding her. It took her a moment to notice his presence, but when she did, she bolted upright before scurrying in front of the desk, hands behind her back. Jungkook looked her up and down, transfixed by the beautiful stranger.

“Can I help you?”

His voice came out harsher than he meant it to and he cringed when you tried to disguise a wince. 

“Um, yes, I’m your new secretary, Mr. Jeon.”

His brows furrowed. 

“New secretary? What happened to the old one? He was perfectly fine.”

He didn’t remember any emails about his secretary leaving, although to be fair, he hadn’t been paying attention to much these days. He might physically be at work, but more often than not, his mind had drifted to far off places. Mostly island paradises. 

“He moved away.”

“Ah,” he gave you a once over, “and what is your name, new secretary?”

You answered him. He nodded as if you had given him the right answer on a quiz.

“And I don’t suppose anyone has told you how things work around here.”

“No sir.”

His hands clenched at the name, a picture of you on your knees before him (with much less clothing) popped into his head. He shook it off, trying to stay the least bit professional. He had a wife for god’s sake. 

“I see. Well, for future reference, I expect you to meet me each day in the lobby with an iced americano and a pastry,” he paused when he realized how demanding he sounded before softly adding, “No cherries though, I hate cherries.”

You nodded, grabbing a sticky note and jotting down his instructions.

“For now, just get settled in. Do you happen to know if I have any meetings today?”

You nodded again, “You have a lunch meeting with the Samsung marketing director at one, sir.”

There it was again. That damn formality. It was really going to get the better of him. 

“You will accompany me. I expect you to take notes, but don’t contribute to the conversation. Got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

Jungkook nodded before making a beeline to his office before he got a boner. He let out a sigh of relief as he closed the door behind him. His heart pounded in his chest and despite his desperate attempts, he’s chubbed up a bit in his pants. 

He didn’t want to admit that it’s because you might be the most attractive woman he has ever seen. He didn’t want to admit that he hasn’t been this turned on in months. Instead, he passed it off on the fact that he hadn’t had sex with his wife in three months which left behind quite a bit of built-up tension. 

The hours ticked by and Jungkook attempted to bury himself with the neverending stack of paperwork. He remembered there was a time when he loved to show off his signature (there was a reason fifteen-year-old him never had a girlfriend), but now he wanted to chop off his hands so that he could never sign a contract again. He was thankful when the clock struck eleven, releasing him from his office, even if it meant being stuck talking shop for an hour while eating expensive but flavorless food. 

He stepped out to find you arranging photos on the wall beside your desk. You glanced up when you heard the door open and flashed him a blinding smile. 

“Ready, sir?”

He nodded. The title was really going to be a problem. 

The meeting was the beginning of Jungkook’s personal purgatory. Every day you would greet him with a smile and the best pastries he had ever tasted. (He was surprised when you admitted to him that you had baked them yourself. If you weren't proving to be an amazing secretary, he would suggest that you open a bakery, but he’s selfish.) You were a good listener and caught onto his routines without a struggle. But every day you would show up dressed as pure temptation. It wasn’t even that your outfits were scandalous, just simple pencil skirts and pastel blouses, but you made them look like sin incarnate. It didn’t help that every night he went home to his wife who he barely noticed existed anymore.

There had been a point when he and his wife were, er, passionate. For the first couple of years, Jungkook even managed to convince himself that he was in love with her. But a couple of months ago, weekly dinners turned into once a month before they disappeared altogether. To make the situation worse, his mother was starting to complain about her lack of children, but he didn’t know how to break it to her that he couldn’t remember the last time he had kissed his wife, much less had sex with her. There were no bitter feelings or resentment, just indifference. He had briefly considered couples therapy before deciding against it. He wasn’t sure he even wanted to attempt to salvage the crumbs of his marriage. 

You had only added fuel to the fire. Jungkook found himself just as infatuated with your mind as he was with your body. Not only did you laugh at his dumb jokes and listen to his whining, but you had witty contributions and easily found out-of-the-box solutions. He swore this quarter’s numbers would be higher just from you alone. And you flirted. He wasn’t sure at first, incredibly hesitant to respond in fear of a scandalous HR report. But when he caught your gaze on him when you thought he wasn’t looking one too many times, he realized there was a good chance that you liked him just as much as he liked you. 

Between you, his wife, and his desperate need to escape this world of offices, limos, and quid pro quo, his life was unraveling right in front of him. Still, he tried to hold onto all the pieces before they landed in a disappointed heap in his lap. He wasn’t quite ready to let it all go to shit. He definitely was not ready to meet his parents’ disapproving faces when he lost everything they had worked so hard to ensure he had. 

Two months after you began working, he found himself at an overcrowded party praying he was anywhere but there. Sadly, being a CEO meant that he wasn’t allowed to drink away his woes, lest he make a fool of himself in front of all the investors. Instead, he was forced to stay exhaustingly sober as he watched everyone around him devolve into debauchery. He found his wife pleasantly drunk near the bar talking to one of her friends whose face he recognized but couldn’t remember her name for the life of him.

“Having fun darling?”

He grinned, trying to play the role of loving husband. A role that had become increasingly difficult to mimic. 

“It’s your birthday party, I should be asking you. Have you even had a drink? Probably not,” she turned back to her friend, “He never drinks at these things, something about keeping up appearances. I think it’s dumb. It’s his own birthday for fuck’s sake.”

He rolled his eyes. There she went again, putting him down. It wasn’t the first time she had commented on his festive sobriety. She wasn’t a fan. Maybe it was because he only fucked her after he drank. Still, he conceded to her teasing, figuring one drink wouldn’t hurt. He waved down a bartender.

“A whiskey on the rocks, please,” he turned back to his wife, “satisfied?”

She grinned at him before resuming ignoring him in favor of whatever fascinating conversation her friend was providing. He sighed before grabbing his drink and making his way out to the balcony. The air inside the penthouse was stuffy and he was beginning to feel claustrophobic. He was surprised to find you already out there, nursing your own drink in your hand. It wasn't unusual for people from the office to be at his personal parties. His father had taught him a long time ago that inviting your employees into your personal life was key to inspiring loyalty. It made them feel like they knew you and that they were important to you. But seeing as you were a relatively new addition, he had never seen you outside of the office and if you were sexy in skirts and blouses, the dress you had on should be illegal. He gulped before leaning next to you on the rail.

"Parties not your thing?"

You jumped, spilling a bit of your drink onto the dark street below. 

"Um, no, parties are fine. Rich people parties are just a whole new animal."

He chuckled.

"That's fair I suppose. Even I get sick of those fuckers. They do realize that they aren’t at the office anymore right? No need to brag about how well your stock is doing"

You smiled at him before looking back out at the city skyline. Despite having grown up with views like this, Jungkook still found it breathtaking. Almost as breathtaking as he found you. He took a sip of his drink, trying to drown his thoughts in alcohol. When he looked at you again, he felt his stomach churn. You were so beautiful that he wasn't sure what to do with himself. A sigh escaped him. You broke out of your trance and turned to look at him.

"Something wrong?"

"No. Not really."

You raised your eyebrow.

"I just- I know this sounds stupid and pretentious- but I really just don't want to do this anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"This job. This lifestyle. This life. I was raised to be the perfect CEO with the perfect family, a copy of my father really, but that's not what I want. All my family has ever seen me as is the golden heir and honestly, I don’t know if I can be that anymore."

"Who do you want to be?"

"I don't know. A photographer I guess. And marry somebody I actually choose to fall in love with. And live away from the stress of trying to please every person in my life at the cost of my own happiness."

"You don't love your wife?"

"No, I do. Kinda. I just... My parents picked her out and at some point, I was smitten with her, but we're so different and she wants success and money and, well, I don't care about that as much. She’s not a bad person, she’s just obsessed with her books and her writing, and well, that doesn’t leave much room for family. I’m not much better though."

"Oh."

"And we haven't been too hot lately."

"How so?"

"Um, well, we're really distant, and, um, we haven't had sex in two months."

You snorted and he blanched. He usually never shared that kind of thing with anyone and here he was confessing his personal problems to you, his secretary. The alcohol must be affecting him more than he thought. This is why he didn't drink at parties.

"How? Has she seen you? I would be all over you if I was your wife.”

You realized what you had said a moment too late and you looked at him with wide eyes, a faint blush covering your face. He let out a nervous chuckle. 

“Would you now?”

You nodded before downing the rest of your drink. Jungkook felt something akin to butterflies begin to flutter in his stomach. He had known that he was fairly attractive, but something about hearing someone as ethereal as you admit it made his heart do flips. 

“Yeah, well, it’s really on me I guess. I haven’t really wanted to.”

“You don’t want to have sex?”

Relief washed over your face when you realized that he wasn’t going to linger on your slip up. 

“Yeah. Well no. I do want to have sex. Just not with her.”

“I see. Well, who do you want to have sex with?”

It was a small glimpse, almost imperceptible, but he saw the recognition in your face as you watched his eyes glance over you.

“Me?”

Jungkook gulped. What was he doing? What was he getting himself into? He had a life to protect. Expectations to uphold. And yet, here he was, considering risking it all for a secretary who was making him feel something for the first time in months. 

When he gathered enough courage to look at you, he found you staring at his lips. One second he’s waging a war with himself and the next your mouth is on his. Your lips are just as warm and soft as he thought they would be and for a moment he lets himself be absorbed by them. But reality rapidly floods back, and he pushes you away. You looked at him, obviously hurt by the rejection. 

“I’m sorry.”

He’s being honest. He doesn’t want to hurt you. But he was a coward who was afraid of what people thought of him. And the things people would think about him if they knew he kissed his secretary were not pretty.

“It’s fine.”

You failed to cover up the disappointment in your voice. 

“It’s not you. It’s just I have a wife, and a family with expectations and-”

He sighs.

“Look, it’s fine. Really. I’m just gonna get going, okay? I’ll see you on Monday.”

With that, you leave him to his own devices. He watches your figure go, before turning back to face the city. 

“Fuck.”

If work was hell before, it was nothing compared to what it was now. Every day, he found himself torn between wanting to take you on his desk and wanting to never see you again. Ever since the party, the memory of your lips pressed on his had haunted him like an orphaned Victorian ghost with a thirst for revenge.  It was on replay in his mind to the point he couldn’t properly sleep anymore. He felt like shit, and he was pretty sure he looked it too, but if anyone noticed they neglected to say anything. 

You, on the other hand, seemed to be doing just fine. You hadn’t so much as mentioned the party. You performed your duties with your usual pep and continued to bring him your heavenly pastries. He resented you a little bit for being able to move on so easily. Here he was hung up on a moment he had fucked up, and there you were acting like nothing had happened. He wanted to scream. 

So he pulled back. He only talked to you if it was absolutely necessary. He never looked your way. He threw himself into his job. But you were still there, just as tempting as the first day he had seen you. His mind was being forced to choose between you alongside the island paradise he dreamed of, and keeping up appearances while pleasing his elders. A week passed and he was miserable. He was exhausted and all his will power had been depleted. 

That’s why he ended up doing what he did. Or at least that’s what he told himself. Friday rolled around and Jungkook was at his wit’s end. And then there you were, fifteen feet away from him flirting with some random guy from IT. (Namjoon, maybe?) It was harmless, but it didn’t stop Jungkook’s gut from twisting about inside of him. Why didn’t you flirt with him? Why didn’t you show him any signs of affection? He reminds himself that he rejected you, but it’s no help. Jealousy overwhelms him as he squirms in his leather chair. He barely noticed his hands clamped into fists or the way his jaw had clenched to the point of pain. When Namjoon leans over to whisper into your ear, Jungkook loses the small tidbits of control he had left. 

He pushes himself out of his chair and storms out, not bothering to say anything as he grabs your arm and pulls you away from a stunned Namjoon and back to his office, slamming the door behind him. 

“Can I help you?”

Your tone is curt and your face was twitching with displeasure. Jungkook realized that once he had you, he wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to do with you. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He would certainly like to bend you over his desk and fuck you until you couldn’t walk, but he was fairly certain that wouldn’t go over well with you right now. 

“Umm…” 

He felt a blush cross his face as he realized he was still holding onto your wrist. He released it before turning to pace back and forth across the marble floor. 

“Well?”

You folded your arms across your chest, your eyes were alight with something dangerous. Something that Jungkook found incredibly sexy. Before his brain could register with what he was doing, he found himself marching over to you, grabbing you by your waist and pulling you in for a kiss. 

You stiffened against him, but before you had a chance to respond, he had pulled away from you. The guilt was almost immediate, drowning him in regret and confusion. You too looked confused, as you stood stock still, surprise plastered all over your face. Jungkook turned and walked back to his chair. 

“You can go.”

You seemed to barely register the words as you nodded before absent-mindedly wandering out of his office. Jungkook relaxed in his seat as he tried to make sense of what had happened. He knew he had feelings for you, but nothing he couldn’t handle. Nothing he couldn’t control. But he had lost control and now he wasn’t able to trust himself. And he didn’t know if he wanted to.

After that, things went back to normal. Well, as normal as they could be. He gathered the courage to interact with you again. But now instead of friendly glances and gestures, there were secret looks and subtle touches. Jungkook knew he was a wind-up toy one twist away from snapping, but he couldn’t help but indulge in your flirty gestures. 

He found himself growing bolder as the consequences he had once worried about seemed to be a world away. What started with the brush of a hand across the hip, grew to a hand on your thigh in the back of the car. Dark stares and lip bites plagued his day. At night, he would go home and lock himself in his private office where he would wrap his hand around his cock while conjuring up images of you in a variety of wanton states, all for him. 

He should’ve known that staying at work late with you would be a bad idea. Usually, you had the rest of the employees to keep you in check. With them gone, he found himself finding little reason to hold himself back.

“And so that’s why I think it’s a good idea to start engaging with younger consumers.”

You had been discussing ways to boost sales for the quarter, but he had stopped listening long ago, instead focusing on how your shirt was opened a button lower than usual.

“Mr. Jeon?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you listening?”

“What? Oh, yeah. Of course. Younger consumers. Got it.”

You raised an eyebrow. 

“What?”

“Maybe if you spent less time staring at my chest and more time focusing on these market studies, we would already have higher sales.”

“Sorry.”

“Sure you are.”

“You’re right. I’m not.”

The drop of his voice surprised even him. You looked at him with an unreadable look from your perch on the edge of his desk.

“And what is so enticing about my chest?”

Jungkook gulped. Your eyes had darkened and he felt himself start to stir in his pants. 

“It’s a part of you. And you are so sexy I can barely control myself.”

You smirked, before sauntering over to him and lowering yourself into his lap. The scent of your perfume overwhelmed him as you leaned in to whisper in his ear. 

“Then don’t.”

Somewhere inside him, a cord snapped. The control he had been trying to reign in had broken free and he was left to his own primal devices. He pulled your lips to his, finally relishing in getting to properly kiss you. You responded instantly, lips moving against his as your hands buried themselves in his hair. You tugged on the strands and Jungkook moaned into your mouth, hips bucking up into you as his hand grabbed your ass. You returned his moans and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. 

His brain was a mess of emotions and hormones. He was overwhelmingly hard in his pants and your lips felt too good against his. You rolled your hips on top of him and he let a growl, the need to take you battling with his need to preserve the few remaining shreds of his dignity. 

He didn’t have the chance to make a decision though when the office door swung open and the head of a very confused janitor popped in. 

“Uh…I thought you were gone,” he stuttered, “...I’ll just leave.”

The janitor blushed before shutting the door. Jungkook turned back to look at you to find a similar rosy hue had graced your cheeks. 

“Um...I should probably get going too.”

Your voice was meek and the embarrassment of getting caught was plastered all over your face. He can’t blame you though, he isn’t doing too well himself. The fear of getting caught had left him deflated in more ways than one. 

“Yeah, sure, that’s probably good.”

You moved off his lap, readjusting your skirt as you do so. You grab your purse and jacket before walking to the door. Just as you were about to open it, you turn back to look at him. 

“Good night, Jungkook.”

He looked up surprised. It was the first time you had called him by his first name. It sounded heavenly coming from your lips. 

“Goodnight.”

Before he left for the night, he made sure to track down the janitor and offer him a healthy sum of money to stay quiet. He took it happily and continued on his way.

The weekend passed slowly for Jungkook. You plagued his thoughts with images of your rumpled skirt and the feeling of your hands in his hair. His wife was out of town for yet another business trip. He didn’t care. It just gave him more time with the thought of you while his hand was around his cock.

When Monday finally rolled around, Jungkook found himself the happiest he’d ever been to go to work. As he walked into the lobby, the sight of you washed over him like the cold water of a lake on the hottest day of summer. Something about your smile seemed to relieve him of all the heavy stress he was carrying on his shoulders. 

He almost made it through the day without losing control of himself. Despite all the glances he gave you, or the way you brushed your hand against his while you leaned over next to him to explain a chart, he managed to keep it together. But when you bent over in front of his desk to pick up a pen he dropped, he lost all control. The next thing he knew, he was slamming you against his office door, lips attacking yours, while his hips rutted into you. 

Your initial shock wore off almost instantly and you groaned as you melted into him. You wrapped a leg around his waist, dragging him closer to your core. The kiss was messy and he was sure your lipstick was ruined. A fervent need overwhelmed him as he humped you like a desperate teenager. You pulled away to catch your breath, dark eyes looking staring back at his own. 

“Fuck, you turn me on so much, baby,” he growled into your ear, hips moving faster. 

Words seemed to fail you as you whined back at him, pleasure contorting in your face. You suddenly let go of him, before dropping down to your knees. Instead of going to undo his pants like he expected, you simply gave a long lick over his bulge. Jungkook’s legs immediately turned to jello and he had to brace himself on the door to keep himself upright. 

“Oh fuck, what are you doing baby?”

“I’m getting you off. Do you want me to make you feel good sir?”

For once he was happy to hear the name. He didn’t get a chance to respond before you grabbed him through his pants. He threw his head back with a moan. It briefly occurred to him that people might hear through the thin walls, but your hand on his hard cock soon relieved him of all thought. It didn’t take much to get him to the point of no return. Even with all the nights spent with his fist and a bottle of lube he still felt like a rubber band getting stretched to its limit. You were barely touching him, but there he was, on the precipice of cumming in his own damn pants. He barely had time to warn you before spurts of hot cum filled his boxer briefs with white. “Oh, fuck.”

You giggled as he let out soft groans, cock twitching in its confines. The high of pleasure was quickly wiped away as the sensation of sticky underwear rose to his attention. 

“You’re a bad, bad girl, baby. You made me cum in my pants. Do you know what happens to bad girls?”

“No, sir.” 

“They get punished.”

“And how are you going to punish me, sir?”

Jungkook had to stifle a groan. You were still on your knees in front of him, calling him ‘sir’. Despite having just had one of the better orgasms in his life, his dick twitched with interest. 

“Stand up.”

You quickly obey, rising to your full height, but keeping eye contact the entire time. 

“Take off your panties.”

Your eyes grew wide at his demand, but you obeyed him nonetheless. The second you grasped the pink lace in your hand, he snatched them from you, immediately bringing them up his nose. He inhaled, letting himself get lost in the musky aroma.

“Shit, baby, you smell so good. I can’t wait to eat your wet pussy. But not today. You were bad today and only good girls get their pussy eaten.”

You let out a whimper but kept your mouth shut, body frozen in place. He stuffed your panties into his pant pocket before walking over to his desk and taking a seat. 

“You may go.”

You looked like you wanted to say something, probably about your lack of undergarments, but you held your tongue and turned to leave. 

“Oh, and one last thing.”

You turned back to him.

“I’m going to need a new suit. It seems I’ve spilled some coffee on this one.”

He smirked and you nodded, before stepping out the door. 

He didn’t try to hold himself back after that. He would take you whenever the opportunity arose. It didn’t take long for him to fulfill his promise to eat you out. He would forever remember the way you whined his name while his mouth pulled not one, but two orgasms from your dripping pussy. And when he finally got to feel your mouth around his cock, he was fairly sure he had found nirvana. 

He wouldn’t fuck you though. He knew it was silly as if he would be betraying his wife any more than he already was by having sex with you, but for some reason, he felt the need to draw a line. To separate the boundary between the fantasy land he had created with you and the cold reality that he returned home to. His wife had become all but a ghost in his life, and as a result, Jungkook found you providing his only emotional support in addition to sexual release. He didn’t want to admit that somehow, in a few short months, you had grown from being just his secretary to his closest companion. 

He didn’t want to admit it because he was too afraid of where it would lead. He was already teetering on the edge to give it all up, even before you had shown up in his office looking like a gift from heaven, but now, now he was fairly certain that even the tiniest breeze would push him over. And he didn’t know if you would be there to catch him if he fell. 

But that didn’t stop him from starting to dream of a future with you. The island paradise in his mind expanded to include you. Flashes of laughing children, nights under the stars, and soft kisses danced through his mind. You would have your own bakery, he would take pictures, and together you would create your own little family. One that was far removed from the hassle and the stress of his painful existence.  

Jungkook was over the moon to discover that you would be accompanying him on a work trip to Japan. For one whole week, you would be one door away. Even if it was a ruse, Jungkook would be allowed to pretend, for one whole week, that you were his and he was yours alone. On the plane ride alone, he made you cum three times in the cramped bathroom. During the day, you would both try to hold it together. Merger meetings were laced with subtle glances and hidden touches. At night, you would become a whole other animal. 

You tested his limits. Dared him to give in and finally give you what you both wanted: him inside you. Every night you would knock on his door in translucent nighties that highlighted the fact you had discarded your bra. After the second night of showing up in see-through clothes, Jungkook decided to return the favor, opening the door with his shirt unbuttoned, leaving his abs out for anyone to see. While you were both visibly affected by each other’s teasing, neither of you gave in until the last moment, each of you leaping into each other's arms and making a mess of the hotel furniture. But he still didn’t fuck you. It was his line. His final frontier. 

On the last night of the trip, Jungkook suggested that they finally test out the jacuzzi on his balcony. Bad idea. When you showed up in a tiny red bikini that did little to protect your dignity, Jungkook felt himself spiraling out of control. Instead of greeting you like he usually did, he thrust a cocktail in your hand while trying to will his dick into submission. He made it through about ten minutes in the hot tub, trying to participate in regular conversation with you. But he couldn’t, not when your tits were sitting right there. He was no longer sure if the sweat dripping down his forehead was from the warm water or the pent up tension. 

“Fuck.”

“What?”

“I can’t take this anymore,” he groaned.

“Can’t take what?”

Your eyes gleamed, daring him to admit to what they both knew he so desperately needed. 

“There is nothing more I want then to sink into your pretty pink pussy right now.” 

“So why don’t you?”

It was the first time you had questioned why he refused to have sex with you, and now that you were finally confronting him about it, he found himself at a loss for a reasonable explanation. The line that he thought he was creating by refusing to have sex with you had long ago been blurred to the point of no longer existing. And here you were, with your warm body inches from him, wanting him just as much as he wanted to you and he knew that he was done for. 

“Fuck it.”

With that, he pulled you onto his lap, attaching his lips to yours for the three millionth time. He would never tire of your kisses, the way they comforted his soul, and quenched his constant need for your touch. You eagerly responded to him, tongue licking the seam of his lips. As the two of you began to explore each other’s mouths, his hands came up to the string keeping your bikini top together and gave it a quick jerk, letting the scarlet cloth fall from your body. He pulled back and groaned at the sight of your perfect tits, the water around you swishing as he rolled his hips up into yours.

You whined out, “Fuck, baby. Just like that. God, I can’t wait for you to be inside me.”

“Yeah?” Jungkook’s voice was low with lust, “Me neither, baby. You’re gonna be such a good slut for me aren’t you.”

“Yes, sir.”

Even after months of you calling him ‘sir’ in less than professional situations, Jungkook still hadn’t gotten used to it. He felt every inch of his skin tingle with sheer pleasure every time the word fell from your shameless mouth. You whined, teeth pulling at his bottom lip as you pressed down on top of him, just as desperate as he was. He moved from your mouth to your neck, kissing down to your collarbone, where he stopped to take the time to leave a rosy mark that signified you were his and his alone. Once he was satisfied with it, he continued down your chest, taking one of your pretty pink nipples in his mouth, sucking on the hardened bud. You moaned out his name, hips stuttering against his. God, he loved your breasts. 

Your hands tangled themselves in his hair, pulling on them to the point of pain. Jungkook didn’t care though. He loved when you showed him just how good he could make you feel. It made him feral. Sure, receiving pleasure was gratifying, but there was nothing quite like watching you squirm from his ministrations.

He reluctantly pulled away from your tits to pull the ties keeping your bikini bottoms intact before discarding the garment in the same manner as your top, leaving you naked on top of him. He took a moment to pull back and admire how beautiful you looked. You sat there as he looked you over, a blush rising to your cheeks. You crossed your arms over your chest in an attempt to make yourself less vulnerable to him.

“Oh no baby, don’t hide yourself from me,” he gently pulls your arms away, “you’re too beautiful to stay covered up.”

Your blush intensified. He smiled at you, wrapping his large arms around your body and carrying you out of the hot tub. Your lips reconnected with his as he stumbled his way into the hotel room, tossing you on the king-sized bed. 

“Are you gonna be a good girl for me?”

His voice was as dark as his eyes. You nodded in response, voice escaping you. 

“That’s my baby.”

He pulled off his wet swim trunks before joining you on the bed, where your wet body had begun to soak the sheets. If he had his way, they would be much wetter by the time the night was over. He wasted no time diving into your pussy, lips attaching to your clit, drawing out your sweet moans. His fingers found your entrance, circling it a few times to collecting your slick, before slipping one in. Your back arched at the sensation and Jungkook let out a chuckled against your clit. 

Your whines grew higher and he could tell that you were getting close to finishing. After months of exploring your body, he was well acquainted with how to play your pussy like an instrument, conducting your symphony of pleasure. He slipped in a second finger, crooking them upwards in search of the spot he knew would make you scream. When you cried out he knew that he had found it and not five seconds later, you were coming all over his digits. 

“Fuck, Kook.”

“I hope you don’t think that we’re done yet,” he growled as his fingers slowed before leaving your sopping cunt, “when I’m through with you, you won’t be able to walk for days. I'll have to carry you to every meeting and explain to them that I fucked you too hard for you to function.”

You clenched around nothing at his words and he mindlessly took his cock in his hands, giving it a few quick strokes. 

“You like that don’t you? You would love for the entire world to know how much of a whore you are for my cock.”

“I would. I’m a whore for your cock, please give it to me. I’ve been a good girl.”

Without bothering to warn you, he lined himself up before sinking into you. You both groaned at  the feeling of your tight cunt stretching around his cock. After months of dreaming of what your pink walls would feel like around him, he could confirm that the sensation was much better than anything his imagination had conjured. 

He started with slow thrusts, trying to give himself time to come off the edge he had already been worked up to. Your legs came to wrap around his waist, pulling him closer to you. As soon as you had adjusted to his girth, you began to roll your hips up to meet his.

“Go faster.”

“Uh uh, if you want Daddy to go faster, you have to beg like a proper slut.”

It just slipped out. Jungkook knew he had a daddy kink, but it generally stayed repressed deep within after his wife had shamed him for it. But you didn’t seem to mind. If anything, you squeezed him even tighter.

“Please Daddy, please go faster. Fuck my tight pussy.”

He conceded to your wishes, pulling all the way out, before thrusting back in. He set a tireless pace, pounding into you so hard the bed began to shake. He leaned down, meeting your lips in a sloppy kiss. Your teeth clacked together, but Jungkook didn’t care. He just wanted to be as close to you as possible. 

He pulled away from your lips and his cock twitched at the visual of the string of saliva connecting your mouths. Without him to silence you, your moans mingling with the sound of skin slapping creating a beautiful symphony for Jungkook’s ears. 

He felt himself approach the edge, honing in on his release. Luckily for him, your pussy was tightening around him, signaling that you were close too. 

“Fuck, are you gonna cum for me, baby? Are you gonna come around Daddy’s cock like a good girl?”

“Yes Daddy, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna-”

Your voice broke off into a high pitched moan as you clenched around him. You threw your head back, hands clawing into his skin. The mix of pain and pleasure sent him over the edge with you. He quickly pulled out before covering your pussy and stomach in white strands. As soon as the waves of ecstasy rescinded, he collapsed on top of you, exhaust claiming his muscles. 

He laid there for a minute before hopping up and heading to the bathroom. When he came back out, warm towel in hand, he found you passed out on the soaked sheets. His heart skipped a beat at your blissed-out face and for a moment he wished he could feel as peaceful as you looked. After making sure you were thoroughly clean, he collapsed on the bed next to you. Sleep was quick to come to him, but not before he took you into his arms, burying his face into the crook of your neck. 

A dam had burst. The two of you went at it like rabbits, he would take you any and every way could, whenever he could. He couldn’t get enough of you. He would take you in the back of the limo, in the elevator, empty conference rooms. It was to the point he was sure the entire company knew of your amorous relations, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. All he thought about was you. Even the fear of disappointing his parents was beginning to diminish. As his feelings for you grew and blossomed, his desire to please anyone else faded into a faint buzz in the background of his mind. You had him whipped. 

He knew things were bad when his five year anniversary with his wife rolled around and he didn’t feel a thing when she told him that she wouldn’t be able to be there due to some book tour. Sure, a little part of him was upset that she didn’t care enough to even try to change the tour dates, but he knew that he didn't have a leg to stand on. In fact, he was rather grateful he wouldn’t have to plan some dinner to celebrate a love that had died long ago.  

When you heard that he was spending his anniversary alone, you had offered him some company. He felt a twinge of guilt about the idea of having sex with a woman that wasn’t his wife on their anniversary, but not enough to stop him from inviting you over. So there you were, in his foyer, with an overnight bag, a bottle of wine, and a smile that could light up the heavens. He grinned back at you, taking the bottle and leading you into the living room. 

“I’ll get us some glasses, yeah?”

“Sure. Do you mind if I change? Work clothes aren’t the most comfortable.”

“Oh, yeah, go ahead. There’s a bathroom down the hall to your left.”

When he returned to the living room with two glasses and a bottle opener, you were curled up on the couch in a tank and shorts. You were flipping through the photography book that he kept on the coffee table. You were so immersed in the pictures that you didn’t notice his presence.

“So whatcha want to do?”

You jumped, startled by the sound of his voice. 

“It’s your anniversary, you should decide.”

He placed the opener and the glasses on the table next to the bottle before taking a seat next to you. 

“I don’t know. How about we just drink and talk for a bit?” he paused, “Maybe that’s stupid.”

“Nope. Nothing about you is stupid.”

There was your damn smile again. Jungkook hated the way his heart pounded faster because of it. He smiled back at you. It only took a few sips of the merlot before Jungkook had begun to relax. He had been drunk around you plenty of times, but there was something about wine that made him want to pour his entire heart out to you. 

He watched as you laughed at your own joke, strands of hair that had fallen loose from your tight ponytail danced on your cheek. The world seemed to slow down a little, time coming to a halt, making the room for him to exist with just you and no one else. It was somewhere in that warm, fuzzy space that the words came tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them. 

“I think I love you.”

Even the air in the room stilled. You stared at him, eyes wide with shock.

“What?”

You looked like a deer in headlights. Jungkook felt like one.

“Nothing. I was just running my mouth. Don’t mind me. Go back to telling me about this dream bakery of yours.”

Much to his chagrin, you didn’t budge, eyes still fixed on his rigid body. Your surprise had evaporated and you were now looking him up and down as if you were trying to analyze his inner thoughts. You both sat frozen for what felt like ages before you moved to kneel in front of him, taking his shaky hands in yours. When you opened your mouth, your voice was soft, caressing his soul.

“I love you too.”

The world stopped in its tracks. Jungkook swore his heart stopped beating in his chest. And then your lips were on his and even though he had kissed you more times than he could count, this felt different. This felt like the collision of two planets, the implosion of a star. Fireworks weren’t enough to describe the cascade of emotions pouring through him. His hands grasped your cheeks, gently caressing the soft skin. You hummed against his mouth as he pushed you back to lie on the couch, while your legs spread to make room for him between your thighs. 

Jungkook swore he felt a tear trickle down his cheek, but he couldn’t tell if it was from you or him. He honestly didn’t care. The woman he had grown to love loved him back. He now knew that you would catch him if he fell. And so he let himself tumble over the precipice he had once been so terrified of.  He could finally admit that your embrace was home and that your arms eyes were the safety he never felt. He loved you. You loved him. The stars had aligned. 

He trailed his kisses away from your lips and to the crook of your neck where he inhaled. You smelled of the remnants of your perfume mixed with your own personal scent. He swore if he breathed it in enough, he would get high off it. Instead, he placed soft kisses on the delicate skin, before taking it in between his teeth, shamelessly marking you. The whole world would know that you belonged to him, almost as much as he belonged to you. 

You moaned as he sucked the bruised skin into his mouth before shifting lower so that his face was right between your breasts. Your flimsy tank top did nothing to stop him from tearing it in two. 

“Jesus, Kook,” you groaned as he took in the sight of your braless chest, bare before him. 

“What? I can buy you all the tank tops you want. I would buy you the whole world.”

And it was true. If that’s what it would take to make you happy, that’s what he would do. Tears glinted in your eyes at his words before Jungkook ripped a moan out of your mouth when he took a nipple in his. He sucked on it before releasing it with a pop. 

“These are the best tits in the world. I love them almost as much as I love you.”

He dove back in taking the neglected breast in his hand, rubbing the nipple. Your hips bucked up into him, desperate for more concrete pleasure than the little he was teasing you with. 

“Slow, baby, I’ll get there. Slow.”

You whined in response, head thrown back against the arm of the couch while Jungkook swirled his tongue over you. Even though he was unbelievably hard in his sweats, he found no motivation to do anything about it, his sole focus on you and your pleasure. 

He moved to kiss down your stomach. When he reached the hem of your shorts, he pulled them off, before moving to kiss over your lace panties. An obvious wet patch marked the center and Jungkook once again took the time to stop and smell you. The aroma overwhelmed him, driving him mad with carnal lust. 

“Fuck baby, your dripping, and I’ve barely touched you yet.” 

“That’s ‘cause you’re taking forever. Please baby, I need you.”

And how could he deny you when you were so sweet and all fucked out, just for him. He pulled your soaked panties to the side, groaning at your soaked, pink lips. He dove in, licking one long striped from the bottom of your cunt up to your clit. You bucked against him desperate for more. 

In response, he wrapped his arms around your thighs, holding you in place. His tongue found your clit, eliciting angelic moans from you while he drew abstract shapes on your bundle of nerves. Your thighs began to quiver in his grip and he smiled against you. The thought of you coming from just his mouth had his dick twitching in excitement. 

“Fuck, Kookie, I’m gonna cum.”

“That’s right baby, cum all over tongue.”

Seconds later, you're soaking his mouth while you writhed in pleasure. But Jungkook didn’t stop. He was too blissed out with his face in your cunt. He would stay like this forever if he could. He pulled one hand away from your thigh, to sneak around to your entrance, a finger slipping inside.

“Oh god, Kook, it’s too much.”

“You can do it, baby. I know you can.”

You looked like you were about to protest before he curled his finger up, hitting your g-spot. You cried out, more slick pouring out of you, if that was possible. He knew that there was a large wet spot staining his ten-thousand-dollar couch, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Slipping another finger in you, he began to flick with his tongue, daring you to come again. It didn’t take long.

“Oh shit, Kook, shit, shit, gonna cum, shit, shit-”

He’s never heard you scream so loud in all the months he’s had the privilege of giving you orgasms. Before he could properly register what was happening, you were squirting all over him. Your hips bucked out of your control as you painted his face with your orgasm. Jungkook swore that if he had any less self-control, he would’ve come all over in his pants. 

As you came down from your high, Jungkook scooped you up, carrying you to the bedroom. He laid you gently on the bed, giving you a few moments to recover as he stripped himself of his own clothes. You sat up, watching him closely as he slowly revealed himself to you. He was well built, he knew that, but you often told him how much you appreciated his muscles, as if the way you kissed and bit his abs weren’t enough of a clue. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t started working out more just to please you. 

But he also knew that he could never step foot in a gym again and you would still love him just as much. That was the difference between you and his wife. You loved him without condition, without the need for him to be someone he wasn’t. His wife had fallen in love with only one version of him, a version that no longer existed. 

He joined you on the bed, crawling up between your legs, giving you a soft kiss when he reached your lips. You fell back on the pillows letting him take in your face, your body, you. He bucked up against you, tip rubbing your clit and you let out simultaneous moans. 

Just when he was about to slip into you, his phone rang on the bedside table. He groaned, lifting himself up to see who dared to call him when he was about to have sex with the love of his life. A flash of guilt rushed through him when he saw his wife’s name light up the screen. Of course it was her. Despite everything, this was a woman who would keep up appearances until her dying breath. And here he was, about to have sex with another woman in their shared bed. He sighed, swiping to ignore the call, before tossing it back on the table. 

This time, he didn’t wait to enter you, thrusting in immediately. He groaned at the feeling of your soft walls encapsulating him. Ever since the first time you had had sex, he had always made sure to use a condom, but he couldn’t bring himself to care that he wasn’t using one now. Being inside you without the extra barrier felt so intrinsically right. In fact, part of him was excited about the idea of going raw and risking getting you pregnant. 

“You wanna get me pregnant?”

Your voice was soft and curious. He stilled inside of you, 

“Umm…?”

His voice trailed off as he tried to come up with a reasonable response. His brain failed him. 

“It’s okay if you do. It’s kinda hot actually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I wouldn’t mind having your kid.”

Jungkook couldn’t help the moan that fell out of his mouth. He thrust softly in you. So many hormones were flooding his brain that he could barely focus on what was happening. 

“Well, then I guess it’s my duty to make sure you’re nice and pregnant for me by the end of the night.”

“Yeah, Kookie,” you whined, “give it to me. Want you to cum in me. Want your baby.”

The two of you met in a messy kiss as Jungkook pounded into you, balls slapping your ass. Desperation flooded him, determination to knock you up with his child overriding every other need. He’d never had the desire to get someone pregnant like this before. There was something about you that pulled at all his primal instincts. 

You were tightening again, your moans drowning out the sound of skin slapping accentuated by Jungkook’s own grunts. Jungkook himself wasn’t too far from finishing himself, having been on edge since you squirted all over him. 

“Fuck baby,” you moaned, “you fuck me so well.”

“Yeah. Are you gonna cum for me? Are you gonna cum so that I can get you pregnant?”

“Yes, fuck, I love yo-” 

Your voice faded into a scream as tears rolled down your cheeks as you came for the third time that night. The look on your face triggered Jungkook’s own orgasm. He roared as jets of white cum covered your inner walls. His hips stuttered as he chanted your name. Your legs were wrapped tightly around his waist, holding him deep within you. 

He rolled over without pulling out, keeping you tight in his arms.

“Mmm,” you hummed, “hope that did the trick.”

“Yeah? Me too,” he smiled. 

You grinned back.

“Are you not gonna pull out?”

“We gotta keep my cum in you so we make sure it does the trick.”

“Okay,” you chuckled.

“What?”

He pouted.

“You’re just cute.”

“I’m not cute.”

“Sure...”

He giggled when you rolled your eyes, pressing a peck on your lips. The two of you stayed like that for the rest of the night, wrapped in each other's arms, talking until sleep carried you off into dreamland. 

Jungkook woke the next morning before you. He took a moment to admire your face, not believing that you were really all his. He softly kissed your forehead before wiggling his way out of your embrace. 

He quietly slipped on a tee and some sweats before making his way to the kitchen where he put on a pot of coffee. While he waited, he checked his phone, expecting to find a voicemail from his wife. He was surprised to find none. He opened the phone app and his stomach dropped. There at the top of his recent calls was a twenty-minute call with her. He must have accidentally answered it. She must have heard everything. Anxiety crept up on him as he began to pace the white kitchen floor. Before he knew what he was doing, the phone was dialing. 

“Hello?”

Her voice was groggy.

“Hi.”

His voice quivered. 

“What do you want Jungkook?”

“Oh, umm, I’m sorry I guess,” his voice is quiet, “For what you heard.”

“You mean listening to you moan about how you wanted to get your secretary pregnant?”

He cringed at her dripping sarcasm. 

“Yeah. That.”

“Don’t be.”

“What?”

“Don’t be sorry. I don’t care.”

“You don’t?”

“Jungkook,” she sighed, “I think we both knew something like this was going to happen.”

“Yeah, I guess. But that doesn’t mean that it was okay for me to cheat on you.”

“That’s true.”

They both stay silent for a minute, letting it all sink in. 

“I suppose that means this is the end of the road for us then, huh?”

“Yeah, it is. But it’s okay. We weren’t meant to be. All things being said, you sound like you really love her.”

“I do, I really do.”

“And if I’m being honest, I’ve kinda had a thing for my editor for a while.”

“Seokjin?”

He was honestly surprised that he remembered his name.

“Yeah.”

They both laughed. 

“We’ll talk when you get back, yeah?”

“Yeah. Goodbye, Jungkook.”

“Goodbye.”

He hung up before leaning against the counter, throwing his head back to look at the ceiling. A breath of relief escaped as all the weight he had been carrying for so long fell from his shoulders. It was over. His dead marriage was finished and now he had the rest of his life to love you. He laughed giddily before running to wake you up and tell you the news. 

Six months later, he’s on a beach in Jamaica, trying to take a picture of you without you noticing. He’s almost successful, your nose is buried too deep in a paperback you had propped up on your pregnant stomach, but you looked up when you heard the shutter click.

“Jungkook,” you groaned, “I told you not to take pictures of me.”

“I’m sorry, baby, I can’t help it. You're too sexy carrying my baby.”

You rolled your eyes behind your shades.

“Whatever. As long as no one else sees them.”

“Of course, baby. I’m keeping you all to myself.”

You grinned before turning back to your book.

A month after his conversation with his now ex-wife, their divorce had been finalized. He’d simultaneously quit his job as CEO, unafraid of disappointing anyone else at the expense of his happiness. He had made more than enough money to support the two, soon to be three, of you for the rest of your life. Together, you had moved to Jamaica, where you were working on opening a bakery and he had begun a fairly successful photography business. And in three months, the two of you would welcome a beautiful baby girl into the world.

He sighed, overly content with his life. He glanced down to your hand to spot the sparkling diamond on your ring finger. A month ago, he had taken you out on a boat ride where he had asked you to be his wife. You had eagerly accepted. 

Now he was blissed out in that island paradise he had dreamed about all those months ago. His stress levels were an all-time low. And, sure, maybe his parents weren’t that happy with him, (all though his mother was over the moon when he announced the impending arrival of a grandchild, finally), but whenever he woke in the morning with you by his side, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. You were his whole world, and he wouldn’t give that up for anything. 

masterlist

[ayellowcurtain]

Maybe you could do another part where they watch Sander's favorite movie and he gets so passionate about the details. Robbe is in awe and ends up kissing Sander to shut him up. Not because he doesn't want him to continue, but because he can't hold back any longer

Part 1

Robbe shouldn’t be here, even bringing popcorn for them to make and some soda to share like he doesn’t feel this is wrong in some capacity. Sander’s break-up is still very fresh, still the gossip of the month around the school.

“Wow!” Sander says, and Robbe wishes he could hide the big bag he’s carrying with all the snacks, “I didn’t think you would actually bring things.”

It’s probably too much, Sander wasn’t that serious about their movie dates.

“We don’t have to eat...” Robbe tries to excuse, and Sander snorts, stepping aside to let him in.

“I’m kidding, Robbe.” He says so close Robbe feels like it was intentional, to tease him, so close he can feel Sander’s warm breathe tingling his hair against the back of his ear. His hand gently touches Robbe’s when he steals the grocery bag, opening to check what he’s bringing.

Robbe follows him quietly to the tv room and looks around, trying to save every memory very well in his brain, even the white walls, and how big and comfy the couch looks once you’re looking at it.

“Can you close the blinds for me?” Sander asks, putting everything Robbe brought on the coffee table. Robbe nods his head, putting his bag on the floor against the wall close to the door, walking around the room to close the two blinds that cover the long and wide windows on the right side of the room. It doesn’t get completely dark because the sun is still bright outside, no clouds to give them some extra shadows. It’s a perfectly summery day and Robbe is happy to stay inside for once.

“What are we gonna watch today?” Robbe sits on the edge of the couch, tapping his fingers against his knees.

Sander stops opening a bag of chips and looks over his shoulder with an annoying smile, “You really think I’ll ruin the surprise?”

“Sander...” He complains and Sander shakes his head, finally done setting everything up for the middle-of-the-movie-snack, grabbing the remote, sitting on the middle seat, pushing himself back until he hits the soft cushion of the couch.

“Come, sit here.” He gives a pat to the seat next to him and Robbe pushes himself back too, looking from the corner of his eyes the small space between them, a lot different than last week, with them sitting opposite sides at the start.

Robbe has no idea of what they’re watching today but he knows it’s all Sander’s picks this time. After Romeo and Juliet they spent a whole afternoon just following Robbe’s list of favorite movies, fighting for whoever would hold the remote, finding every chance to hold each other’s hands.

Sander started showing him all the details that made the movies shitty in his eyes and Robbe argued that he was too cold to understand the romantic meaning of all the gestures the characters did out of love. Sander looked at him every time with the corner of his eyes wrinkling, pressing his lips together, trying hard not to smile and failing every time.

Robbe was already lying in his arm - accidentally - but in those moments he also wanted to kiss him so badly. Sander would lift his eyebrows like he was daring Robbe to do it. But he didn’t, he just looked at the television again and they continued watching the movies, one after the other.

He knew how the afternoon would go the second the first movie started, the names of the companies that produced the movie were still fading out of the screen and Sander already started telling Robbe how much he liked the photography of this movie, how quiet it was and how it still didn’t feel eery.

The movie was a little too quiet, but Robbe got used to it pretty quickly. With the silence he could hear Sander’s calm breathing close to his ear, the small huff he did every time he smiled before making a comment - about the actor’s perfect job, at how slow and steady the person behind the camera moved, any and everything -, he could hear when Sander moved quietly, his black jeans making a noise and Robbe could feel him even closer, his arm accidentally resting behind Robbe’s shoulders like the last time.

He could even hear the feeling that his fuzzy socks gave him every time he tried to stretch his legs long enough to rest on the coffee table. Robbe crossed his arms over his chest and relaxed, finding comfort in silence for once, just lying next to Sander, enjoying knowing a little more about him, about movies that he’s clearly passionate about.

“How many times have you watched all these movies?”

Sander snorts, Robbe can feel him adjusting his arm, messing up his hair and then resting behind Robbe’s neck again, ignoring how he’s slipping down, so tempted to just put his head on Sander’s chest, wrap his arms around his middle, feel how tight or not his muscles are.

“Too many, my mom would say.” Sander answers, and makes another comment about how even in the dark scenes, you can still see shadows and get what the director was trying to show.

By the third movie, Robbe is so comfortable he’s afraid he’ll blink and end up falling asleep. The silence feels so nice, Sander’s company is the best and maybe Robbe is gently letting his head fit right in the curve between Sander’s shoulder and his chest.

But Sander can’t hold himself back. He’s still making comments. Robbe can see when he tries to move carefully to check if Robbe is still awake but he’s sure that even if he found a sleeping Robbe, Sander would still make another comment.

It doesn’t bother Robbe because he’s soothed by Sander’s voice, his excitement and spending time with him, he just think it’s funny and cute how he can’t keep his mouth shut, even when it feels like he wants to, to leave Robbe alone to fall asleep if he feels like it.

Robbe sits up before he can change his mind, he sees Sander staring at him, surprised with the sudden movement, and he looks at Sander’s shiny lips and just. Press their lips together carefully.

His passion makes Robbe want to kiss him until their lips get sore and puffy. Robbe wants to be like Sander, to feel this passionate about something other than Sander himself.

He moves back quietly, looking at Sander to see if he made that big of a mistake. He shouldn’t feel this insecure and scared after an innocent kiss that lasted less than five seconds, but Sander makes him that nervous at times, especially after their first movie date. For some reason Robbe wants Sander to like him, to think he’s interesting enough.

“You’re so handsome.” Sander whispers, putting his head on the back of the couch, sighing and smiling at Robbe.

“You think?”

Sander nods his head, the back of his fingers gently rubbing Robbe’s cheek, staring at his lips.

“Does what I think of you matter?”

Robbe tries to think of the right answer but he just lets it slip the truth, not caring if it sounds too desperate or not.

“Yes?”

Sander smiles and sits up again, pushing himself closer to Robbe. He touches Robbe’s nose with his, close enough that their lips brush lightly against each other when Sander smiles wider and Robbe is happy he gets another kiss for his answer.

[yukiobeyme]

The Obey Me! Brothers reacting to MC in a wedding dress? Like they ain't get married or dating, but she's modeling one for someone? I just feel like it would be really wholesome uwu

This was super cute and I love it! I also went as far as finding the dresses I think the boys would like/ what I see as a possible dress I see their bride wearing. So that being said the is a Fem!MC.  I am totally down for talking about what my process was with picking the dresses too! Thank you for the request, I hope you enjoy!!

It was another one of Diavolo’s stupid ideas, he wanted the House of Lamination to do a modeling gig. Which in all honesty you didn’t mind, until you found out it was a wedding theme. You would end up taking photos with each of the brothers, all in different dresses. Mammon seemed to be the only one excited, he talked forever about the perks about being on a photoshoot and the amount of money that you could earn, especially because this was a popular wedding magazine in Devildom. You were torn in your emotions, in the end, Mammon’s excitement was contagious to a point, but you sided with the other brothers that this was ridiculous and must have crossed some line. Diavolo told you that the dresses were picked out with the brothers in mind and he even joked that the magazine’s article was about the seven most eligible bachelors in Devildom, telling you not to worry more than likely that your face wouldn’t be captured.

When you got to the photoshoot location, you were quickly whisked away to have your makeup and hair done. You made small talk with the makeup artist and the stylist, “I’m so jealous you get to take a picture with Lucifer. In a wedding dress no less!” The make artist told you, the stylist let out a laugh, “I’m more jealous of the idea of getting a picture with Mammon. He is so dreamy,” the stylist flashed you a smile. While the comments about the brothers made you a little nervous, you soon feel into a more comfortable topic as they finished their jobs.

You then were ushered to the edge of the stage, there were bright lights and demons everywhere making sure it was running smoothly. As you step out into the light you saw…

 Lucifer:

Lucifer had his usual scold on his face, if anyone was the most annoyed about this it was Lucifer. He was staring straight ahead and caught your eyes quickly and he seemed to freeze for a second. You slowly made your way towards him, trying to recall the walk you were taught moments ago. Before you could react, the first camera flashed, capturing the look of Lucifer’s face seeing you.

Once you were close enough to Lucifer, he outstretched his hand to you and pulled you to his chest.

“You look gorgeous, MC,” Lucifer whispered in your ear, another flash appeared.

The director spends time giving orders, from simply holding hands and looking in each other eyes to slow dancing together. The whole time, Lucifer watched you, but not in a way that made you uncomfortable but, in a way, you could say you truly felt beautiful and breathtaking in the gown. It was a Royal Wedding inspired dress and you couldn’t help but think that it was fitting for Lucifer.

When you were slow dancing with each other Lucifer held you close, giving you guidance and encouragement. When he spun you and dipped you, you shouted his name in surprise and let out a laugh that he returned. For those few moments, you forgot about the cameras’ flashes and simply basked in each other’s company.

Mammon:

Stepping out and seeing Mammon’s face go into complete shock before looking away and blushing like crazy. His reaction alone made it worth being dragged into this mess of a photoshoot. You watched as the cameras went off capturing Mammon’s face

“Hey,” Mammon’s voice cracked when you finally reached him. You gave him a soft smile, “Hey yourself, you look good,”. You took his hands into yours as directed and you could tell Mammon’s hands were warm and sweaty.

“Are you Nervous?” You asked quietly, concerned about him.

“Ugh no, it’s just the lights are hot,” Mammon rushed to justify, the redness in his cheeks continued strong. Unlike Lucifer’s there wasn’t a dancing portion of the shoot, instead, you were posed to look like you were in the middle of the dance. You soon found out that it was because Mammon is known to have two left feet when he was nervous. You ended up making Mammon laugh, the director gave a queue, but you missed it. Seeing Mammon’s face light up, you couldn’t help but join you. Once the shoot was over, the photography allowed you and Mammon to see some of the pictures.

“You really do look nice,” Mammon said, freezing and blushing when he realized what he said, “by me, of course!” he added trying to save himself from embarrassment.

Leviathan:

Levi looked as nervous, if not more nervous than you currently felt. He was looking down at his feet, twisting his hands, but you could clearly see his cheeks were bright red.

“Levi?” you whispered, gently resting your hand on his. He looked up at you and his eyes became large as he took you in.

“Wow…” Levi started flushing more, “I mean you clean up nice for a normie,” he added trying to hide his surprise and emotions.

“You clean up nice to for an otaku,” you teasingly replied to him.

“Relax Levi, we are in this together,” you squeeze his hands in reassurance. Levi nodded and tried to relax his shoulders. You decided to distract him from his nerves, you pressed a friendly kiss to his cheek. His face lit up bright red but it seems he also relaxed.

“What was that about?” Levi whispered harshly, looking at you like you had an extra head.

“I needed you to relax,” You replied. Smiling brightly as the cameras continued to flash.

Satan:

Satan was draped over a chair reading when you stepped out. He was engrossed in the book and didn’t look up when you approached him. He finally looked up when you cast a shadow over his book. When he looked up, Satan’s face was full of surprise and he dropped the book. That was when there was the first flash of the camera.

“MC?” Satan whispers and scrambled to Satan up to look at you.

“Yea?” You looked at him concerned and then shyly looked away from him. That didn’t last long because Satan caught your chin and tilted your head up, another flash.

“You look gorgeous, the dress suits you well,” Satan swallowed a little hard and looked nervous as he told you that. Much like Lucifer’s shoot, you and Satan had a dancing portion. Surprising Satan could dance really well, pictures were taken when he dipped and twirled you around.

Asmodeus:

“OH MC You Look Gorgeous!” Asmodeus exclaimed as soon as you were in his sight.

“Give me a twirl sweetheart!” Asmodeus helped you spin, so he could take in the dress. Asmodeus has a huge smile on his face and seemed to enjoy not only the attention of the photoshoot but also how you looked in the wedding dress.

“Just ignore the flashes, just focus on me and having fun,” Asmodeus whispered as he saw you tense up every time the camera flashed. Asmodeus decided you were relaxing enough, so he let his fingertips brush on your exposed back which made you laugh, “Asmodeus,” you yelp, bringing your hands to rest on his chest. It worked though, you were relaxed and had a huge smile on your face, and Asmodeus has a matching one.

“I think you should keep the dress,” Asmodeus whispered to you near the end of your shoot together.

“I need to get a picture of you in this dress for Devilgram,” Asmodeus said, flashing you puppy eyes hoping that begging you would work.

“Only if you join me,” you finally agreed.

“Of course, dear” Asmodeus gave you a peck on the cheek before you were whisked away to get changed into the next dress.

 Beelzebub:

You shyly stepped out; this wedding dress was gorgeous. There was something so simple and romantic about it and you were concern what Beelzebub would think.

When you finally were in his sight, you watched as Beelz’ eyes grew to the size of saucers and his mouth agape.

“Wow, MC” Beelz finally said, offering you his hand.

“Thanks, Beelz,” you took his offered hand and he pulled you closer to him.

“You look sweet enough to eat,” Beelz whispered to you. You chuckled before you looked at him a little concerned. It wasn’t the first time Beelz talked about eating you and you just had to look to make sure he was joking. When you saw him chuckle, you relaxed knowing he was only messing with you. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head before scooping you up bridal style and ignored how the cameras started to shutter repeatedly.

Belphegor:

Belphegor looked uninterested and relaxed. He was looked like he was ready to leave and hated to be there. When you stepped out towards him, he looked surprised and flashed you a small smile.

“You look nice MC,” He said when you were close to him. He offered you his hand and pulled you close to him.

“I adore the sleeves and the train,” He said pulling back a little taking in the dress and you.

“Thank you, I like them too,” You gave a slight twist to show how the dress flows and flutters at the movement. He chuckled at your enthusiasm and nonchalantly looked at the photography so you could be directed on how to pose for the photos

Two weeks after the photoshoot in the wedding dresses with the brothers, the magazines came out. The headliner beginning “The Seven Most Eligible Bachelors in Devildom,” You couldn’t help but laugh at the brothers’ surprised faces. Lucifer’s face was the first to change to angry followed by Satan’s.

“I mean, Diavolo told us that. Though I thought he was joking,” you told them, taking the magazine flipping through all the pages. Seeing information about the brothers and much like Diavolo told you, your face was hardly shown, it focused more on the appearance of the brothers getting married and allowed the reader to insert them as their bride.

[sub-hoshi-enthusiast]

Hii!! ive seen alot of you're good sub stories, and i reaaly enjoyed it alot since you're the first one to ever done that, i was thinking maybe could you do a hoshi one, thinking that he's been replaced bcs he was jealous of minghao taking over his place?? and maybe some mommy kink play of him?? thanks alot!

Here you go!

⚠️Warnings⚠️: sub!Hoshi, fem!dom!reader, overstimulation, bondage, pegging, mommy kink.

Your Muse

There weren't enough words on the planet to describe how much you loved your boyfriend. Hoshi was the sweetest and cutest boyfriend that you had ever had. You were surprised when you had found out that he felt the same way, thinking it was a dream. While most people thought it would be tiring to date an idol but you had been working with idols for quite a few years. You worked as a photographer, and you had been lucky enough to spot Hoshi one day when you were taking a walk, finding him so beautiful that you just had to ask if you could take a picture. You had happened to run into him a few days later, and then the day after that one as well. You eventually decided to start talking to each other, leading to your perfect relationship. 

     Hoshi had never really been one for photography or anything like that, often opting to sit and wait for everyone else to finish and continue with his day. After he had met you, however, you always took at least one picture of him every time you went out together. You had always told him that he just looked so beautiful everywhere he went, so somebody had to capture the moment. Hoshi was the perfect model, you had told him at least a million times, always leaving him a giggly, flustered mess. You had even started calling him your muse, a nickname that he loved dearly knowing that out of the countless attractive idols you took pictures of, you had chosen him.

     While you had taken pictures of many different kpop idols and bands, you had never taken photos of Seventeen and Hoshi was determined to change that. Ever since he found out that their usual photographer couldn't make it to their next photoshoot, he had been dropping not so subtle hints to hire you. They eventually gave in and called to ask if you were free. You excitedly agreed, and decided not to tell Hoshi so you could surprise him. The morning of the photoshoot, you couldn't stop smiling as you were reminded that you would be working with your boyfriend. You quickly got dressed and you were pretty sure you might've broken a few laws to drive there as fast as you could. You had gotten there before the boys did so you could help with setting everything up. 

     The first thing you heard when the boys showed up was BooSeokSoon screaming about something, though it was cut off by a squeal as Hoshi locked eyes with you. He practically threw himself into your arms, almost making you fall over. The rest of the boys had been confused for a second, until they had finally put the pieces together when he began peppering your face with kisses. They had known that he had a girlfriend but they hadn't met you before. They had quickly introduced themselves and began the photoshoot after basically prying Hoshi off of you. 

     The photoshoot ran smoothly, and you had already taken pictures for the majority of them. Hoshi decided that he wanted his pictures done last, knowing that you would take a million more than you needed to. The next person you had to take pictures of was Minghao, which you had known was one of the members from China. He had seemed a bit confused at first when you began telling him what to do, seeing as you talked very quickly most of the time. Luckily, you had studied abroad in China for about three years so you were pretty fluent in the language. He seemed thankful upon hearing his native language and the photoshoot continued. You had accidentally taken more time taking pictures of Minghao than you thought you would. He looked absolutely stunning and almost any pose he did looked amazing. Seokmin was waiting patiently to get his pictures taken as he sat next to the others. He rested his cheek in his palm, letting out an exasperated sigh as he watched you.

     "How long has it been since Minghao stepped up? It feels like it's been hours." Seokmin said, turning to look at the clock. Hoshi turned to look as well furrowing his eyebrows as he realized how long it had been. 

     "I'll go see if somethings wrong, though there really shouldn't be." He said as he stood up and began walking over to you. He lightly tapped your shoulder to get your attention. You smiled once you had turned around and saw him. 

     "Hey baby, what's up?"

     "Nothing, nothing. We just wanted to know if there was a problem with anything because you've been working with Minghao for a while." You furrowed your eyebrows and looked at the clock, becoming surprised as you saw the time. 

     "Is it that late already? I must've gotten carried away then. Minghao, I think you're good for the day so you can go sit down now." He nodded and smiled at you and moved to sit with the others as Seokmin moved to get his pictures taken. 

     "So was there a problem with the camera or the lighting or something?" Hoshi asked, tilting his head adorably at you.

     "Oh no, Minghao was just a perfect model and I got carried away. He somehow managed to look good at every angle." Hoshi deflated slightly, feeling like something shot him through the heart. He had always prided himself on being your perfect model and hearing you call someone else that hurt. He pouted on his way back to his seat, resting his head on the table once he had sat down. After Seokmin and Woozi's pictures were done, they were allowed to take a break.

     Hoshi had decided to stop moping, reminding himself that you still loved him more than Minghao. After he had a few small snacks and sat with his bandmates for a while, he decided to go and talk to you. He felt that same pain in his heart as he saw you laughing with Minghao about something. He felt even worse as he saw you tell Minghao something that made him blush. He had tried to eavesdrop, but was disappointed as he heard you speaking in Chinese. He was about to ask Jun if he could come and translate for him, but was cut off as the director said that the break was over. You quickly finished up with everyone else and decided to stay a little while longer to take a few more pictures of your boyfriend, just for fun. The boys understood and left, bidding a quick goodbye, though Minghao said goodbye again as he passed by you with a bright smile that made Hoshi glare daggers into the back of his skull. You saw the sour expression on your boyfriend's face and furrowed your eyebrows.

     "Is something wrong baby?" Hoshi huffed and turned away from you.

     "Why do you care? Just go back to drooling over Minghao since he's just the perfect model." You stood confused for a second as Hoshi began to pack up both of your things, just wanting to get back home. You finally realized what he was pouting about and giggled.

     "Aww, is that what this is about?" He didn't answer, continuing to pack up his things. "I'm sorry baby, I didn't realize that it meant that much to you." You told him as you turned him around, forcing him to look at you and holding his face in your hands. "I really didn't mean it like that. Sure, Minghao's attractive and all but you're my baby, my muse, and I would never even think about choosing anyone else." He let out a quiet sigh.

     "I know, I know, it's just that you and Minghao seemed to get along so well. You didn't even talk to me during the break because you were too busy talking to him. I just- I don't like the fact that you two are bonding even faster than we did…" He trailed off, the floor looking much more interesting. You felt your heart crack slightly. How could he think you loved someone more than him?

     "No no no sweetheart, you have it all wrong. I was talking to him during the break because he was asking about the pictures. He's into photography so we talked about it for a little longer than I thought we would so I didn't get the chance to talk to you. I'm sorry if you thought I wasn't thinking of you baby." Hoshi looked up from the floor to look into your eyes, a small smile spreading on his face. He leaned forward to bury his face into your neck and wrapped his arms around your waist. You both just stood like that for a minute, content in each other's arms. Eventually he pulled back to press a loving kiss to your lips. 

     "I'm sorry, I guess I was just overthinking things." Hoshi said as he played with the hem of your shirt, a slight pout on his lips. You held his face in your hands again.

     "It's alright baby. I love you, more than anyone else in the world. Don't ever forget that." He smiled at your words, pulling you closer to rest his forehead on yours. 

     "I know, I love you too." He seemed to think for a second before a small smirk slowly spread across his face. "Y'know, maybe you need to remind me how much you love me…" He said slowly, gently grabbing your hands and bringing them to rest on his ass, "mommy." A shiver shot down your spine at the breathless way he had whispered in your ear. You let out a quiet growl and squeezed his ass, making him bite his lip.

     "Maybe I should." You both hurriedly shoved your things into the car and hurried home. As soon as you had arrived you pushed him against the nearest wall, pressing your lips to his in a heated kiss. There was no fight for dominance as your tongue pushed its way into his mouth, claiming it's territory. Hoshi brought his hands up to tug and pull at your hair and he whimpered into your mouth. You pulled away for a second with your hands gripping his waist. 

     "C'mon baby, tell mommy what you want." You growled in his ear before leaning down to leave some marks on his neck. He whimpered, squirming in your grip.

     "W-want mommy to fuck me, please!" He whined, trying to grind his hips up into yours. 

     "You have to be more specific than that baby." You muttered between kisses, moving lower and lower on his neck. You felt his adam's apple bob beneath the touch of your lips.

     "W-want mommy to tie me up and r-ruin me! Please mommy! N-need to feel mommy cock pounding into me!" You groaned against his skin before pulling away from him to drag him to the bedroom. Once you had reached your destination, you pushed him onto the bed, pinning him beneath you. Your hands were roaming all over his body, tearing his clothes off quickly to leave him bare beneath you. His delicious sounds spurred you on as you left a light trail of kisses down his chest, making him whine in aggravation as you skipped over where he needed you most to leave hickeys on his inner  thighs. You bit down hard on one spot that made him whimper loudly before you pulled away. He whined and bucked his hips up, trying to get you to touch him. You merely chuckled and pecked his lips. 

     "Hands above your head baby." His eyes lit up as he did what he was told. You reached into your bedside drawer to pull out a black, silk ribbon to tie his hands to the headboard. You also pulled out a bottle of lube and your strap-on before putting the box back. He bit his lip and started squirming around as you squirted some lube onto your fingers. You chuckled at him before leaning down to pepper kisses on his face, trailing down his neck as you pushed one finger inside him. He moaned quietly, his eyes closing in bliss as you thrusted your finger into him. His noises got increasingly louder as you picked up the pace, soon adding a second finger. He threw his head back with a guttural moan as you added a third finger, spreading your fingers out to stretch him open. You saw his leaking dick twitch against his stomach, telling you he was going to cum soon. On any other day, you would have pulled out or teased him more, but Hoshi was surprised as you continued to finger him, working him through his first orgasm of the night. You slowly pulled your fingers out, leaning up to kiss him again. 

     "You look so pretty when you cum babyboy." Hoshi whimpered before gasping as he felt the tip of the strap-on slowly push into him. "Do you think you could do it again for mommy?" He whined needily, struggling against his restraints as you thrusted the rest of the fake cock into him. You grabbed the backs of his thighs, pushing his knees to his chest as you continued to pound into him. He practically screamed as the new angle allowed you to hit his prostate with every thrust. It didn't take long for him to feel another orgasm building up.

     "O-oh fuck! M-mommy! C-cum! G-gon- fuck - gonna c-cum!! Please l-let me cum mommy! A-AH!" You smirked, lightly running your nails over the backs of his thighs.

     "Go ahead baby." He threw his head back with his mouth hung open in a silent moan as he came again. Tears started to well up in his eyes as you didn't slow the pace of your hips, making him pull against his restraints harder. You leaned forward to leave kisses and marks on his neck, making him sob in pleasure. About two more minutes passed before he was begging to cum again, with tears running down his cheeks and drool seeping out the corner of his mouth. You smirked as you saw his dick twitch against his stomach.

     "C'mon babyboy, you can cum for mommy one more time can't you?" Hoshi sobbed, more tears streaming down his cheeks but nodded anyways. "Use your words baby." He whined, thrashing against the restraints.

    "Y-yes!! F-fuck- y-yes m-mommy!" You hummed in response and grabbed his dick, pumping it to match the pace you were thrusting into him. His back arched off the mattress as he came one last time with a loud cry. You slowed your thrusts, stopping once he had somewhat calmed down.

     You had to admit that this was always one of your favorite sights. Hoshi tied to the bed with cum covering his stomach and a gorgeous fucked out expression on his face. The tears and drool just seemed to make him look even more beautiful. You carefully pulled out of him before reaching over to grab your phone and snapped a picture, smirking as you set it as your home screen. You carefully untied Hoshi's wrists, giving light kisses to the red marks from how hard he had been pulling. You moved to the bathroom, leaving your strap-on in the tub to clean it and grabbed a wet rag to clean up your boyfriend. You cleaned the cum off his stomach and threw the rag to your laundry basket. You leaned forward to give Hoshi a loving kiss, brushing the hair that had clung to his forehead off once you had pulled away.

     "Are you alright baby?" You asked, cupping his face in your hands. He weakly nodded with a small smile, turning to cuddle into you. You smiled softly at him, running your fingers through his hair. You pressed a light kiss to the top of his head as he started to fall asleep. " I love you, you know that right?" You felt Hoshi smile and press a light kiss to your skin before weakly muttering.

     "I know, I love you too."

[skzsauce01]

In Fair Verona︱Chapter 10

Synopsis: Jisung knows he is the Romeo to your Juliet. He could wax poetry about you all throughout rehearsal and even a little after. Except Hwang Hyunjin is the one playing Romeo in the school play, not him. Jisung is just another tech crew member that you don’t know, but he’s determined to win your heart... by any means necessary.

Warning: violent thoughts

Word Count: 3.2k

Pairing: fem!reader x Jisung; fem!reader x Hyunjin

updates every Wednesday and Sunday @ 11 PM PST︱chapter list

Two household, both alike in dignity

In fair Verona, where we lay our scene,

From ancient grudge break to new mutiny,

Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.

Opening night has arrived. Tech crew’s call time is 5:30 PM, and Jisung pulls into the parking lot just a few minutes later. The late afternoon sun is low in the sky, and he has to squint through the light when he runs up the steps to the auditorium. The entrance leading to the lobby is predictably locked, but he doesn’t have time to take the long way. He peers through the tiny window and sees nobody in the immediate vicinity. He pounds against the heavy metal door, hoping someone hears him. When no one shows up, he growls to himself and texts the tech group chat. No answers. Seconds later, you appear, walking by with a box of programs. He doesn’t want your help, but he doesn’t want to get a verbal lashing for being late either. Jisung hits the door again, and you almost drop the box.

“Y/N!” he shouts. “Open!”

With wide eyes, you quickly push open the door for him with the side of your body and go back to place down the programs. You’re dressed in the same shirt he is. While he normally would be delighted at this coincidence, he’s repulsed now, knowing that you stabbed him in the back a mere twenty-four hours ago. You don’t say hello to him, and he doesn’t either.

“Thanks,” he roughly says, avoiding eye contact with you.

You don’t say a single word back.

He swings open the door to the auditorium with more force than necessary, and it knocks against the metal trash can. He’s greeted by a song with a thumping bass and Chan’s rapping.

“What’s happening?” Jisung asks no one in particular. He’s glad that he hasn’t missed anything though. He settles down in a seat in front of the soundboard and watches different colored lights flash across the cyclorama. A couple of silhouetted bodies dance on stage.

“Felix found out two of the actors are dancers,” Changbin replies. “Chan wanted to play his new song, and Jeongin just went along with it.”

Jisung nods, but he doubts Changbin notices in the darkness anyway. Jisung himself can’t make out who’s who. Another figure later appears on stage and shouts in Mr. Gi’s voice, “What are you guys doing?”

The lightshow stops, and the music volume drops to a whisper. Felix, Hyunjin, and the guy playing Mercutio pause in the middle of their dance off. Hyunjin’s smirk is starting to slide off his face, and Jisung feels the sudden urge to drag the corners of his mouth down with barbed hooks. He would look a lot better if he had a perpetual frown.

Felix hesitantly offers, “Sound and light check?”

Mr. Gi lets out a short laugh before turning serious. “We’re going to run through tech now.”

Everyone springs into their usual positions, while the two actors return to wherever they were before. Jisung gives Hyunjin a sufficiently long glare as he walks out the side door. The real sound and light check then begins. Occasionally, the floor crew is needed to set up the stage and to practice for blackouts. Jisung envies Seungmin, who is assistant tech director. He gets to relax for the night.

Before the main doors open, pictures are taken, one of cast, one of crew, and one of everyone involved. Jisung doesn’t miss the fact that Hyunjin has an arm slung around you and that you’re twisting the silver ring on his finger. He looks around and, to his disbelief, discovers that no one cares. The very people surrounding the two of you are busy adjusting their hair and clothes while waiting for the parent volunteer to take the photo.

“3, 2, 1!”

Jisung snaps back to the camera with thinly veiled irritation. Another picture is taken, and the brittle smile he has on is threatening to break. There are calls for a funny picture, and while he normally would be excited, he wants to get away from you and Hyunjin’s public displays of affection. In the next picture, he and Changbin give each other bizarre looks and shoot finger guns at each other, while you and Hyunjin reenact one of your fake endings to Romeo and Juliet.

Disgusting.

During the play, Jisung does his best to stay attentive to Felix and Changbin’s calls. He’s more talkative in the comms now that he realizes what a waste of time the last two weeks were pining after you. He jokes with his friends, and he’s happier than he's been in days. He learns that the stage kisses are now real kisses, and Hyunjin doesn’t bother obscuring the action. Both the crew and the audience cheer loudly when they see it.

During your costume change, he boldly watches you shimmy out of your dress and observes your protruding spine when you bend down to pick up the fallen garment. If he throws one of the metal counterweights from the fly rail system at you, he thinks, you would drop dead.

So would any other person, but he gets a certain thrill when he pictures Hyunjin finding your crumpled up body on the floor. It’s all Hyunjin’s fault anyway. He would get what he deserved.

Strangely — well, maybe not — Jisung actually enjoys the play now. The death scene, which hurt him to watch before, is his favorite part. It’s a fitting ending, you and Hyunjin dying together after all the casualties you caused. He feels vindicated. When the main curtain comes down, he’s almost disappointed.

There’s a crowd of lingering people in the audience after the show ends and when the post-show music starts playing. While you and Hyunjin take (more) pictures with each other, your friends, and families after the show, Jisung once again sits in the row in front of the soundboard, taking in everything happening. Your friends have signs and flower bouquets, and you happily receive them all. Hyunjin momentarily disappears before coming back with a dozen roses for you.

“Romeo’s got game,” Seungmin, who has taken over photography duty, lowly whistles. He picks up his camera and snaps a photo.

Jisung grits his teeth and doesn’t say a single word. You place a shocked hand over your mouth before shyly kissing him on the cheek. There’s another click of the camera.

“They’re dating,” Ryujin announces.

“How do you know?” Seungmin asks. “And why didn’t we know about this news?”

“Yeji told me today when we were getting lunch, and it’s none of your business anyway,” she shrugs. “But it’s been pretty obvious they’ve been crushing on each other since rehearsal started.”

“Who’s Yeji?” Jeongin interrupts.

“Lady Montague, looks like Hyunjin?”

“Who’s Hyunjin?”

“Romeo?” she answers incredulously. “It’s been two weeks!”

“I sit back here and turn the lights on and off!”

While they bicker, the audience members still around slowly start leaving. You wave goodbye to your friends and promise to meet your parents in the lobby after you’re done. The ushers begin walking through the aisles to check for trash, and the actors go to the dressing room to change out of costume. Then Mr. Gi gives out the tech notes for the night.

There’s only a few critiques, and Jisung is satisfied that Felix can’t rib him for any mistakes. While notes are ongoing, you hand back two mic packs to Chan, explaining that one of them is Hyunjin’s. Jisung notices that you’re wearing the jacket you supposedly returned to Hyunjin. It’s unzipped and hangs loosely on your frame. It could have been his jacket there. Another shred of anger rips through him, and he looks away, no longer gritting his teeth but grinding. You prance to the classroom, and he hopes one of the lights falls from its fixture and lands you in the hospital.

After notes are finished, the tech director congratulates them all on a job well done, and they’re all free to leave. It’s late, and Jisung’s excited to go home. He spots your parents milling around the lobby, making awkward small talk with the drama students selling grams. You’re almost a carbon copy of your mother, down to the way her eyes widen when a new person enters the room. He politely smiles, and she returns the gesture like you would have last week. It’s another reminder of what he could have had.

He’s on autopilot the drive home. He rolls at least two stop signs, but there’s luckily no one around in those four way streets. He has an unfinished plan in his mind, and he desperately needs it to be complete. It was previously tailored for Hyunjin, so he makes a few adjustments to include you.

The rest of the night he spends researching online. The glow of his screen illuminates his face in the darkness and reflects off of his bluelight glasses. His back hurts from being hunched over for three hours, but his scheme is ready. As he shuts down his laptop, he stretches, enjoying the tension released from his shoulders and mind. He’ll sleep well tonight, very well.

—

The second show is the day after opening night on Saturday. This time Jisung arrives a solid twenty minutes before his call time. He’s been in a good mood all day; he woke up refreshed and energized, and he even made a quick trip to the local flower shop to buy a beautiful blue monkshood plant for his mother. He takes the long way to the auditorium, knowing that he’s likely the first tech crew member to arrive.

He passes by the green room and spots you eating dinner alone. There are other actors and extras nearby, but you’re sitting at a center table, scooping fried rice into your mouth. How pathetic. He can hear a sword fighting scene being rehearsed on stage, and he’s certain Hyunjin’s part of it. He wonders why you aren’t cheering on your Prince Charming. Surely, you like him more than your terrible, burnt rice. The old Jisung would have jumped at the opportunity to be around you, but the enlightened Jisung strides to the stage, unaffected by your charms.

He’s proud of himself. He feels no rush of rage when he sees you anymore, and when he sees Hyunjin stab Tybalt with a wooden sword, he’s calm. He walks to the back of the auditorium, where Chan has his own headphones on and Felix is furiously tapping his phone screen.

“You guys are here early,” Jisung remarks, taking Jeongin’s chair.

“Nothing better... to do,” Felix mumbles, clearly concentrated on whatever game he’s playing.

Chan is engrossed in his own world, bobbing his head to the music and drumming his fingers across the board. Jisung leans back in his seat and checks Hyunjin’s Instagram. As he expects, his latest post is a photo of you and him from last night. You hold the roses he gave you, and he has an arm around your waist. The caption simply reads, “Opening night.” Satisfied with his findings, Jisung turns back to the stage, where the actors are starting their fight from the beginning again.

As time goes on, he loses interest, and more of the crew starts arriving. Jisung later waits in the lobby, opening doors for anyone too lazy to take the long way around. He’s reading gardening forum posts about monkshood when you and one of the house managers come by with more programs, predicting how packed it will be tonight. He glances up momentarily before deciding to ignore you. He can’t help but feel a tiny bit of resentment when you try to meet his eye. Where was all that a few days ago?

“Hi, Jisung,” you cautiously greet, seemingly trying to dissolve the tension between the two of you. You still have that scared deer look though.

While the house manager gives him a curt nod and then disappears into the auditorium, you linger around.

“Hey,” he replies and leaves it at that. He’s over you, and he doesn’t want any reason to come crawling back.

“Opening night went well.”

“Yeah.”

“How many people do you think will come tonight? I think at least a hundred.”

“I don’t know.”

You try to continue the conversation — though it barely qualifies as one — and Jisung shuts down every attempt you make. He doesn’t want you anymore, not after you strung him along with your jokes and smiles and then ran off into the sunset with Hyunjin.

There’s a knock on the door, and he absentmindedly opens it for Yugyeom, who’s out of breath from running up the stairs.

“Thanks,” he manages to get out. “Have we started yet?”

“I think we’re about to,” Jisung answers. “Bye, Y/N.”

He opens the auditorium doors for Yugyeom and lets it swing shut after him before you have the opportunity to slip inside.

Fine. Maybe he’s still a little angry at you, but it would be insane to think that he would be completely over you after all the interactions he’s had with you.

He follows Yugyeom to stage right. While sound and lights are being tested, the floor crew waits patiently in the wings. Ryujin slides the hangers across the rack, counting the number of costumes, and Yugyeom makes sure all the props are in order. With nothing better to do, Jisung stands by him and watches as he rearranges the items on the table. He sees two chemistry tube looking containers, and he can’t help but reach for them.

“Do they actually drink this?” Jisung asks as he picks up a clear vial filled with green liquid. “And what is this?”

“Just colored water,” he shrugs. “And yeah, they drink it. Hyunjin asked if I could change it every day since he and Y/N use it as a water break on stage. He said Ms. Park was okay with it.”

Jisung remembers the vial Hyunjin drinks from in the death scene. He grimaces as he sets down the container, suddenly feeling contaminated.

“Water, but not coffee or something?”

Yugyeom shrugs again. “He said water. And also, water is free.”

“But not food coloring.”

“Ms. Park asked the culinary class for some. Wanna help me change out the water?”

Jisung looks around and sees that Changbin is scrolling through his phone, eyes glazed over, tuned out of what’s happening despite wearing a headset. “Sure. It’s not like I have anything better to do.”

Jisung and Yugyeom take the vial of poison and Juliet’s sleeping draught. Apparently, you used that as a water break as well. Though Yugyeom asked him to help, Jisung does nothing but observe. It’s not like he needs the aid either; all he has to do is dump the water in the bushes, refill from a water fountain, and stir in a few drops of food coloring. The sleeping potion is a midnight blue, while the poison is a murky green. Neither look particularly appetizing, and he wonders how anyone would be able to drink either without feeling sickened.

When they return to the stage, Jisung goes back to his usual spot and continues waiting. In the meantime, he resumes reading about monkshood. Apparently, their roots are especially toxic.

The show that night goes well. He doesn’t know the exact number of audience members, but when he peeked past the curtain before the show began, he saw that at least half the seats were filled. During the death scene, Jisung pays close attention. Hyunjin’s back faces him, so he doesn’t know if he actually did drink it. He does get a good look at you, and he sees you kiss Hyunjin squarely on the lips with no hesitation.

At the end of the night, he waits by the soundboard for all the audience members to leave before tech notes can begin. The main cast stays around, talking to people they know and taking pictures with them. You don’t get any flowers this time, but a random girl with adoring eyes gives Hyunjin yellow and pink roses. There’s not a hint of jealousy on your face, and Jisung feels strangely irked by that. Hyunjin accepts the flowers sheepishly and shyly introduces her to you, his co-star and girlfriend. The girl’s expression falls, and Jisung empathizes with her. He’s been there before.

Seungmin’s snapping pictures, and he takes one of Hyunjin holding the flowers. “A potential love triangle?”

“No way,” Ryujin replies. “Hyunjin’s head over heels for Y/N.”

“Y/N’s Juliet, right?” Jeongin asks. Ryujin opens her mouth, but he cuts her off. “Right. She is.”

Felix chimes in, “Minho said that Hyunjin’s totally in love with her. They are cute together.”

The old Jisung would be outraged by those statements from his friends, but the new Jisung agrees with those remarks. Even he has to admit that the two of you make a pretty picture together. You and Hyunjin perfectly deserve to be with each other for the rest of your lives.

“Who’s Minho?” Jeongin expectedly asks.

“Mercutio,” Felix answers. “The other guy in the dance off yesterday.”

The gossip dies down when they notice you and Hyunjin heading over with your mics. Chan strikes up a discussion about the cast and crew dinner after the last show next week, and everyone immediately gets excited. Chan takes the mic packs from you two, and Hyunjin sticks around for a bit. He murmurs something to you, and you nod before leaving. Jisung doesn’t miss the nervous look in his direction, like you’re trying to work up the nerve to approach him. Jisung snaps his stare away.

“It’s at District 9 this time,” Jisung says, taking care to not include him. Hyunjin could have you, but he’s not going to let you take away his friends, too.

Chan groans. “Again? Their food sucks.”

“What’s at District 9?” Hyunjin says.

“Oh, right. I keep forgetting you’re new since you’re the lead. The cast and crew dinner. We all go to a restaurant and eat together after the final show,” Felix explains. “We usually go to District 9. Their food’s okay.”

“Their food sucks,” Chan echos.

“It’s not that bad,” Jisung counters. “You ate everything on your plate last time.”

“Because I was hungry! And because Jeongin ate my snack!”

“You let me have it!”

A side conversation starts up, and Hyunjin stands awkwardly at the side, not understanding the references and inside jokes. It’s petty, but Jisung wants Hyunjin to hurt as much as possible before next week when he won’t ever have the opportunity again. Mr. Gi finally finishes chatting with a colleague of his and starts tech notes. Hyunjin looks relieved to have an excuse to leave.

Notes are short, given that it’s a Sunday night and that they did well overall. They’re reminded that they have two more shows next weekend before they’re dismissed for the night. Jisung, feeling drained by all that’s happened, silently cheers before walking out to his car through the main doors.

Under the yellow streetlights, he sees you hold hands with Hyunjin as you make your way to his car. Hyunjin laughs at something you say and tucks one of the pink flowers from his fangirl into your hair so tenderly, Jisung has to look away.

Hyunjin is so in love with you, and you with him. It sickens Jisung to his core, but he has a remedy for this illness.

~ ad.gray

[x-ratedkpop]

Picture Perfect [Kim Jongin]

➳ Sugar Daddy!AU || Model!AU || Photographer!AU ➳ Scenario || Smut || Rated: M ➳ Pairing: Kim Jongin x Reader ➳ Summary: As an aspiring photographer, you become the sugar baby to the Adonis model, Kim Jongin. ➳ Word Count: 2.3k ➳ Warnings: daddy kink, erotic photography, masturbation, unprotected sex ➳ requested

The camera snaps, flash illuminating his golden skin in a delicious warm tone as the low bass music echoes around the room. The book in his hands interests him more than the quiet buzzing of staff from behind the veil of darkness, eyes flitting across the words before he changes the pages. Another click, another flash. Jongin turns his eyes towards the camera, rolling onto his side and showing off his toned body; his eyes stare straight into the camera, right into your eyes on the other side of the lens.

A shiver runs down your spine because you know what this look entails.

The sheets tangle with his body, pillows cradling his head as you find the perfect angle – the perfect shot; but you know that these photos will never do him justice, never truly capture the beauty of Jongin exactly. He’s like the moon shining on a clear night sky, you can take a photo but it’s only an image of the magnificent sight before you. Click, Jongin arches his back, moving position and parting his plump lips as he watches you work. Click, the book covers the bottom half of his face, almond-shaped eyes dancing with the thoughts that run in his head as you changed the tone of the lighting.

He made a good choice getting you this job, giving you the opportunity to do what you loved and he got the added perk of watching you work – being the object that you capture.

There’s a call for a break, the lights being turned on and you take a moment to let your sight adjust to the intrusion of brightness that overtakes the room. You let out the deep breath that you didn’t realise you were holding while you watch Jongin sit up and smile at you; stylists and make-up artists rush to his side, all eager to touch up his appearance but Jongin waves a hand dismissively, not caring about his messy hair or how his nose might be too shiny. He wants to congratulate you, tell you he’s proud of you because he’s never been so enamoured by someone until he saw you at work.

Ignoring those around him, Jongin gently grips your chin between his fingers and brings your gaze to his. “Do you know how proud Daddy is of you, baby girl?” You blush, cheeks heating up as he speaks so casually, without fear of those around you. “What? Can I not tell my baby how happy she made me, letting me watch her work and having her in control?”

“Bu-but,” your eyes move to the stylist watching the interaction from her seat, “people are staring.” Jongin shrugs, moving his hand to caress your cheek; you instinctively turn your face into his touch, closing your eyes momentarily and feeling safer. You compose yourself, eyes shining brightly as a warm smile spreads over your lips, “thank you Daddy, I have everything I’ve ever wanted because you are so good to me.”

He loves hearing you say those words, the way your lips look when you say them captivates him, the way you sigh it, moan it – you seriously have no clue about the effect you have over him. You’ve had Jongin wrapped around your little finger from the moment he saw you, the relationship being nothing more than a mutual partnership in the beginning but over the years, it deepened to something close to what Jongin would call love.

You were fresh out of college and struggling to pay off student loans, working as an assistant at one of Jongin’s photoshoots and he took to you like a moth to a flame. He needed someone to take to the Gucci cruise that year and offered to pay you for your assistance; you were reluctant at first, Jongin was not only seven years your senior, Gucci’s ambassador and a national treasure but he was also an Adonis. Nearing thirty didn’t take away any ounce of the sex appeal that Jongin held in his youth, it added to it; he had women of all ages vying for his attention and there he was, asking you to be his date.

Though, one date turned to three and next thing you knew, Jongin had paid off your student loans and taken you around the world.

“Be a good girl for Daddy,” he whispers in your ear, smirk playing on his lips as he thinks about new things to try in the bedroom, “and bring your camera home tonight. Don’t leave it at the office, I want us to have some fun with it.” Your eyes widen, Jongin winking before heading towards the changing room as the director calls for the final set.

Ideas run through your mind as to what Jongin could possibly want to do tonight and you find yourself getting excited by what you come up with.

A private photoshoot.

The words sound so sinful as they fall off his lips; Jongin smirks at the idea, pleased with himself as he sees your stunned expression. He wants to reward you for your hard work today, he wants you to capture him in ways that only your eyes can see and most of all, Jongin wants to snap shots of you two doing the naughty things that he was imaging while lying on that bed this afternoon.

“Daddy,” you lick you lips, unable to look away as Jongin undresses, “what if I lose them? I don’t want someone else seeing you like this.” You pout, unpacking your gear and getting set up regardless.

His body is sculpted to perfection, his proportions make anyone envious. His thick brown locks messily falling in his chocolate brown eyes, strong nose, plump lips and a sharp jawline makes you wonder if Jongin was created by Gods. He’s proud of his body, keeping himself fit but not bulky gives Jongin a lean figure, golden skin pulled taut over toned muscles; long legs with strong thighs, a cute, tight ass and you swallow thickly as your eyes fall onto his cock.

Jongin isn’t overly long, you would think that he was just over average but his girth and how he used his hips makes sex with him an experience every single time. The head is a pretty pink, matching the shade of his lips and a pearl of precum leaks from the slit; you feel your mouth water, normally Jongin would have you kneel before him, sucking him before he returns the favour but tonight, he has something else in mind.

“You’re in charge,” he watches you check the lighting, making sure you’ll have the right exposure and that the flash isn’t too bright.

You nod, pointing to the bed and instructing Jongin to lie down, “stroke yourself for me, please Daddy.” Even though he tells you to be in charge, you know that Jongin truly runs the show tonight but you’ll do anything to make him happy.

With cock in hand, Jongin begins to stroke himself slowly, getting into character and feeling the rush of excitement in his veins as you move a little closer. You snap a few close ups, his eyes fluttering closed with lashes splayed on his cheeks, parted lips with pearly white teeth showing, his two moles and tense stomach and finally, his hand stroking his firm cock; the shutter of the lens, the thought of you staring at these when he’s away on long shoots and hearing nothing other than your movements make Jongin shiver.

His sugar babies haven’t lasted long in the past but you, you’re one he intends to keep. So obedient, so beautiful, you are perfect in ways Jongin can’t even begin to explain but this confirms that he doesn’t want to let his baby girl go.

He can spoil you, give you the nicest of everything you ever ask for and take you on around the world but you’ve never once faked it for him. You’ll do anything he asks, not out of obligation but because you truly feel something for him; something you can’t say aloud but Jongin knows it because he feels it too.

You feel the heat in your loins as Jongin’s breathing grows heavier, his orgasm approaching as you continue your private shoot. You whine, lowering your camera as you rub your thighs together for friction, suddenly upset that your Daddy is paying more attention to his own desire rather than you. “Play with me~” You catch his attention and get the exact look you want.

His eyes are dark, hooded and wanting as he stops what he’s doing to sit up and indicate for you to go over to him. You quickly place the camera on the tripod, grabbing the wireless remote and rushing to stand between his spread legs that are now hanging over the side of the bed. “You want Daddy to play with you, princess?” His voice is husky, thick with desire as large hands rest on your waist. “Did you feel a little left out?” You pout, nodding your head and the image of you causes Jongin to groan.

He slowly begins to undress you, taking care in placing your clothes neatly beside him before removing the next item. He takes a moment to admire you in the lingerie that he chose for you this morning, the lacy pink set matching the cute pout still prominent on your lips; he pulls you closer, kissing the top of your breasts before kissing your lips. You straddle his hips, Jongin gently prying the shutter remote from your hands as you tightly wind your legs and arms around him.

You grind on him, feeling him so close to where you want him but frustratingly separated by the thin material of your panties. Heated kisses, tongues dancing as hands touch every inch of uncovered skin; Jongin makes your temperature rise to the point that the warm air around you is cool on your sensitive skin.

He wants to indulge in you, suffering through a day of not touching you to keep up professional appearances is something Jongin isn’t used to; he’s always been able to kiss you, touch you, be however he wants with you in public but he got you this job, he knew how much you wanted this opportunity even if he could provide you with a comfortable life and he wasn’t going to risk it.

His fingers glide down your ribs, over your hips and between your thighs, rubbing against your clothed clit; you moan, rolling your head back and letting Jongin suckle upon the unblemished skin of your neck. “Daddy,” he feels the words against his lips as they leave your throat, “I want you inside me.” With little effort, Jongin rips your panties and chuckles as you startle from the way the material is torn from your body.

“Don’t worry,” he gazes down at your exposed sex, eager to welcome him as he lines his cock up with your entrance, “I’ll buy you another set tomorrow, a treat for my baby girl.”

You sigh, the stretch feeling so good after such a busy, stressful day. “You spoil me, Daddy. You are so good to me, I’m so lucky to have you.” He groans, controlling your hips and keeping a steady pace as his lips reattach to your skin, littering you with pink marks and relishing in how well you take him. No matter how much he fucks you, no matter how soft or rough he can be, you always take him perfectly.

Being so close to his release earlier, Jongin knows he’s not going to last long so he thumbs your clit, focusing more on your pleasure rather than the speed. You writhe against him, the word daddy falling off your bitten lips like a sweet mantra as you feel the pressure build inside you; his breath hot against your skin, hair tickling your cheeks as you rest your head on his shoulder and whine as it gets closer.

“Say my name, baby girl,” you whimper it softly, your hips moving on their own as you desperately race for release, “no, say Daddy’s real name.”

You would be shocked by his request if you weren’t so focused on your orgasm. “Please, Jongin, let me cum.” You beg, enjoying the growl that rumbles through his chest as his hands hold your hips tightly and he begins to fuck you the way you enjoy.

Mercilessly.

As much as you love it when Jongin pampers you, how he shows his affection for you through small gifts and actions, you love when he fucks you so hard that it leaves you bruised, the feel of him imprinted on your skin for days to come.

“Fuck,” he grunts, hips stuttering as he cums, holding your hips down and feeling your walls milk him dry as you whisper his name repeatedly.

Looking up at your blissed-out face, Jongin feels around for the remote and the sound of the shutter causes your eyes to open slowly; he’s always wanted to be on the other end, taking your picture and admiring your beauty through the lens and now he can. He slides out slowly before helping you rest on the large, soft pillows; he moves you into the position he wants before heading for the camera, your eyes glazed over but watching.

One arm is stretched out, head surrounded by pillows while the other arm is resting over your breasts; one of your legs is tucked over the other and your eyes are trained on Jongin. He snaps a photo, looking at it with a smile before lifting the camera to his eyes once more; he tries different angles, instructing you to look at him the whole time and he loves every moment.

“Perfect,” he whispers to himself proudly, looking through them with a satisfied grin, “so fucking perfect.”

[ficsnroses]

Perhaps - Keanu Reeves x Reader

Hi everyone! This fic is a bit different than what I’ve done in the past. Let me know if you like longer fics like this, or if you prefer the shorter and more fluffier ones. I love your feedback! I really hope you guys like this, it felt a bit out of my comfort zone.

Word count : 3884

Warnings : Smut? Kind of? a little? I didn't mean to write smut but I think I accidentally may have...

Requested : No

Summary : After becoming good friends on set, Keanu and Y/N end up in bed together, leaving Y/N scared for which way their relationship may turn when Keanu wakes.

Perhaps your ambitiousness was the quality that got the best of you. Being assertive and head strong were normally auctioned off as rather desirable qualities. Maybe things would be different if you’d slowed down, looked at things from a more sedate, deliberate standpoint. Perhaps, your mother was right on that overcast afternoon back home, the gray undertones of the silver kissed sky promised a good rain. She reluctantly handed you your last bag, the fine lines and wrinkles more prominent in recent times around her shuttered eyes. She had her doubts over your instantaneous move to LA, it killed her to even dream you may have your ambitions broken.

Perhaps, if you slowed down, thought things through, cautiously evaluated the consequences, you would have saved yourself the sorrow. Perhaps you wouldn’t be sitting on the edge of the bed, your head in your hands, your chest and lower half covered with nothing but a faint white bed sheet, quietly weeping melancholy tears. The bitter, crisp air engulfing the room pricked at your nude shoulders. It felt almost glacial, or perhaps that was the feeling flooding your uncertain body. You glanced wearily over your shoulder, and saw Keanu still sleeping, his bare chest rising and falling in harmony with his breathing. His raven locks rest upon his face, a few strands cascading over his eyelids, slightly rising and falling each time he breathed out his nose. He looked at peace, for now at least. But perhaps, he would awake soon. And perhaps, peace would be replaced with hesitance. Perhaps. That darn perhaps. Anxiety inducing, dreadful, appalling perhaps. 

Your move to LA had been tough at first and really pushed you to your limits, but you weren’t complaining. Constant determination and effort had landed you a career opportunity of working on the set of John Wick Chapter 2. Yourself and a few other people around your age had earned jobs as assistant directors. It sounded like a big role, a job demanding leadership, however, you thought otherwise most of the time. It almost felt as an internship. The experience would open numerous doors for you however, and it was a hands on way of discovering movie making technique and process. The job consisted of arranging logistics, preparing daily call sheets, checking cast and crew, and maintaining order on the set. Your strong work ethic and natural niche for determination had lead many of the other AD’s to not be so fond of you. You didn’t mind though, Hollywood was competitive and you were here to make a mark.

When you weren’t working on set, you’d often be left alone. You were rather shy and hadn’t made any friends on set yet. You enjoyed your own company, rather fond of indulging in your thoughts, taking a mental break from the demanding reality of the world. At lunch breaks, the cast and crew working on principal photography would gather in the designated rest area, where people would branch off into groups, socializing and enjoying their lunches together. You however, sat alone at whatever table wasn’t occupied. Sometimes you would eat quietly all alone, or sometimes you would set your mind adrift in a book while eating. It all depended on the day and your mood.

Keanu had been noticing you since the first day. He would watch the way you poured your heart and soul into your work. He admired that, he didn’t see it from any of the other ADs. He would see you sitting alone at lunch every day, often walking by you to sit with the people he knew and was familiar with. He would watch the way you would get so invested in your novel, the way you would tuck your long strands of hair that framed your face behind your ears, your brows furrowing. He was quite intrigued by you, almost fascinated. He was drawn to you in an unexplainable way, as if his soul had somehow read yours and wanted a taste of the serenity your aura gave off. After a week of production, he had finally mustered up the courage to brush past your table, finally approaching you one on one for the first time.

       “Remembrance of Things Past, I’m quite fond of that novel myself.” His voice caught you off guard. You’d known exactly who’s voice it was before even looking up, it just surprised you it was filling your ears so close, directed at no one but you.

You glanced up and saw him smiling down, his tray full of food in his large hands, still in his costume from filming. He had a few cuts and gashes on his forehead and cheek from makeup. Had this not been a movie set, it would have been quite concerning.

       “Yeah, it’s a good read. I’m trying to get through them all actually, although its proving to be quite the task.” You chuckled, your soft voice had a very calming effect on him. It was almost as a sweet break from the chaotic environment surrounding.

       “It took me a while, but I got through them. Worth it, trust me.” He smiled back. “Is this seat taken?” he gestured with his free hand to the seat in front of you.

       “No no, it’s not!” you replied quickly, almost not believing the words he had just asked.

       “May I?” he asked politely. “Of course, my pleasure.” You said with just as much politeness, almost being formal. You weren’t sure how to act, Keanu Reeves, the star of the movie had asked to join you for lunch.

      “Y/N, right? I’m Keanu. Nice to meet you.” he held his hand out for you to shake. “I must say, I admire the work you do here on set, we’re really in good hands.” He spoke as you shook hands, smiling at each other, relaxing eventually in each others presence. You noticed the other AD’s and many other crew members turn their heads your way, just as surprised, almost jealous that Keanu had sat with you alone. You chatted and got to know each other a little better that day before returning to set. You were just as surprized when the next day, Keanu ended up asking to sit with you once again. Your company was so refreshing to him, like a breath of fresh air after being inside walls too long.

Keanu and yourself ended up becoming quite good friends from that day forward. You would sit together every single day at lunch breaks, and often chat or hang out on down time between takes. You managed to make each other laugh a whole awful lot. When the set was packed up for the day, Keanu would help you with your stuff, walking you back to your car to make sure you were safe. He would ask you if you needed a ride every time, even though he knew you had transportation home. It was a sweet gesture, it showed you his caring and compassionate side. He was very gentle with you, a complete contrast to the character he was playing on set. He would let you go with a quick hug, and a “get home safe, Y/N.” before waving goodbye and walking back to his car. You would be lying if you said you didn’t feel a slight flutter in your chest every time he hugged you goodnight, sending you off. But it was best you keep those thoughts at bay, Keanu was just such a gentle, kind, loving personality. It was practically impossible to not feel warmth after just a glance his way.

On Keanu’s walks back to his motorcycle after dropping you off to your car, he would shove his hands in his pockets, reminiscing back on the day’s work. He often found you at the center of his thoughts, the moments you’d share together being a prominent, radiating light out of the sea of everything else. He felt for the first time in a while that he had someone to confide in, someone to relieve the stress of life with. He felt something there. He felt something for sure.

On a Friday afternoon, you and Keanu sat at your regular table as always, chatting away, laughing over Keanu’s slip up during one of his action sequences earlier that day.  The rest of the crew didn’t find it so amusing, but you and Keanu were left gasping for air, giggling away tremendously thereafter. It was almost like you had a mental connection that just made you sync when you were together. To you, it was nice to have a friend. A real, true friend. Your first and only friend in LA actually. He had made the journey so much more bearable, and you couldn’t be more thankful. You knew internally you were longing for something more with him, but you constantly pushed the thoughts away, knowing the bond was too special to you to have anything determine otherwise.

Keanu shoved his spoon into your cup of yogurt, taking a bite into his mouth. You two often shared food. It almost made you feel…closer.

      “Keanu you know that’s my favourite! Leave me some.” You chuckled, playfully shoving his hand away. Keanu had suggested he take you on a bike ride after pack up that night, the lovely California weather, complied with the smell of fresh orange fields and the lavender sunsets were a magical sight he wanted you to experience. You had agreed, it was the weekend and a bike ride sounded like a good way to replenish.

That evening after pack up, Keanu held his arm out for you to take as usual, only this time, he’d be leading you to his bike, taking you with him. He’d dreamt of the scenario often, wishing he could whirl you away to experience the pure bliss of the wind in your hair, and the unexplainable calmness, complete ecstasy a bike ride brought him. He knew how stressful working on set had been for you, and he wanted to help relieve you of some tension.

Sitting behind Keanu with your arms wrapped securely around his waist felt like true security. You eventually found yourself resting your head on his back, your cheek brushed up against his muscles, your eyes closed, just relishing in the moment. He was radiating warm heat, it felt nice to be so close to him, so in touch. It almost left you wanting more.

Keanu felt very protective of you in that moment, as if a fragile doll rest upon him that he had to defend at all costs. He hadn’t felt that way in a long time. Eventually, he stopped the bike at his favourite spot, a cliff overlooking the beauteous California waters. He often came there to be alone, to take time to himself, to feel grounded. It was special to him to share it with someone else, almost as if he were taking a very vulnerable part of himself and handing it into your hands. He helped you off the bike, holding his hand out for you to take as he walked you to the edge where you could see the divine scenery.

      “Isn’t it breathtaking?” He smiled at you, before glancing down at your hand in his. It was a nice fit, he thought to himself.

      “It’s gorgeous. Thank you for showing me, Keanu.” You replied as you looked off into the distance, smiling to yourself. The sunset had cast a vibrant, golden hue on your face that left it sparkling in all the right places. Keanu couldn’t help but grin as he watched you. You both stood there for a few moments, sulking in a comfortable silence, just over looking the California horizon. A few moments later, you realized your hand was still tucked away tightly in Keanu’s grip. You looked down, and then up at his face. His eyes met yours, glowing. Keanu slightly inched you closer, and without thought, you moved into his touch, resting your head on his arm. You felt real at ease in that moment, a free wave of tranquility flowing through your veins engulfing your body in a tight embrace. Keanu moved his arm around you, pulling you closer, watching the distance. This is what it felt like to have certainty.

You glanced up at Keanu, so intoxicated by the view and his zen like presence. He looked down at you, and your eyes instantly locked. You both smiled, getting lost in each other. His eyes reminded you of two drops of coffee, with clouds of steamed milk surrounding. They gazed into yours, as if he was reading a map to a town he had already roamed in its entirety, as if in that moment, your collective energies gravitated together and ignited a whole universe, and you were the only ones in it. The only ones with a key. You both inched closer, and closer, his head moving down, your moving up to meet him hallway,

And then it happened. Your lips grazed against each other’s, and locked. You shifted, and put a hand on his shoulder, your other hand on his bicep. He wrapped one of his arms around your waist, managing to pull you in even closer, while his other hand caressed the back of your head, getting lost in your locks.

The kiss was sweet, passionate, and eventually became demanding. You moved both your arms around his neck, lightly ruffling his hair while indulging in his candied lips. Keanu eventually broke the kiss, pulling back only to rest his forehead against yours, as he looked you in the eyes once again, except now they were filled with need, with lust, with desire.

      “Would you wanna go back to my place? Maybe?” he breathed.

      “Yeah, I would like that.” You grinned, eyes glancing at his lips.

And with that, he took your hand and lead you back to his bike, helping you on, and zooming away, frantically racing home with your body close to his once again. He felt butterflies in his stomach anticipating what was to come next.

As you reached Keanu’s home, you held his arm as he lead you in. Instantly, as the door locked and he turned the lights on, your eyes met once again. You were stood about a foot apart, your arms at your sides. You both smiled, it felt almost as this was something you had both wanted for a while, something you never knew you were craving. After a moment or so, you inched forward, unable to resist any longer. He followed, attaching your bodies once again with a kiss. He bit at your bottom lip, asking for entrance, which you cheerfully allowed. And with that, he suddenly picked you up, carrying you up to his bedroom where you both would spend the night, showing your admiration for each other in the closest, most vulnerable, most intimate way you could.

Keanu laid you down on his bed lightly, making sure you were comfortable. The dimly lit room was illuminating your skin perfectly, he thought you looked like an angel sent down from the heavens. He climbed on top of you gently, making sure to position his weight on either side of you so he wouldn’t crush you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down, missing his lips on yours. His hands connected to your waist, softly caressing your love handles, running his hands over them smoothly.

Your lips collided again, and Keanu toyed with the hem of your blouse.

      “May I?” his raspy voice spoke in a whisper, tugging on the bottom of your blouse, asking permission to remove it. It was an action that set your heart a flip. He was such a gentleman, no matter the situation. You had made it quite clear you wanted him as much as he wanted you, yet he still made sure you were definitely on the right page. He respected your boundaries, and that may have just made you want him even more.

      “Yeah” you smiled, gently grabbing his hand and helping him move the blouse over your breasts and off your body. He wasted no time in taking his own shirt off, and then moving his hands underneath your resting figure to undo the clasp of your bra. He delicately took it off your shoulders, exposing your bare chest to him. He admired you for a second, before connecting his lips to your neck, kissing each and every inch of the skin. He his wet kisses trailed down your shoulder, over the top of your breasts, dipping between your cleavage and disappearing down your stomach. He made sure he showed you just how grateful he was for you in that moment, how in awe he was with your mind, your body and your soul in that moment. You tangled your hands in his hair, pulling him back up.

Within the next few moments, his pants were off as were yours, leaving you both skin to skin with each other, no barrier in between. Keanu reached over to his nightstand pulling out protection, and slipped it on himself in a swift motion.

      “Is this okay, Y/N?” he asked, lined up and ready to show you just how much he wanted you, his voice low, showing concern. He didn’t want to do anything you weren’t comfortable with; he wouldn’t dare want to hurt you in the slightest way.

You nodded frantically, ready to feel him in the most intimate, cherished way possible.

And with that, he slipped himself in, lips connecting to your neck leaving love bites. He moved passionately, his hand lacing in yours, your hands on his shoulders, gripping them tight. A few moans escaped your lust filled lips, feeling all of him.

The night was amorous, filled with heartfelt admiration and praise for each other. You both gave each other a part of yourselves that night. A part that perhaps, you would never get back.

It was now morning, and there you were, on the edge of the bed, anxiety ridden, with the evidence of last night sprawled over the floor in forms of your clothing. You had woken up with Keanu’s arm secured around you, snoozing away.

It was a confusing feeling, but you couldn’t quite shake the feeling that you may have made a mistake. Keanu was, after all, your co worker. It was a professional setting you worked in together. But he was also your closest friend here, in this town of a billion lights, but an unexplained solitude. Perhaps last night was just a moment of passion for him, a spur of the moment where he needed you, but perhaps, that was all it was. You couldn’t possibly be dreaming of a future with him, could you? He was a star, he had it all. People like him probably do this all the time when they’re lonely and need someone. Your pessimistic train of thought had got the best of you.

Keanu’s eyes opened, and he felt a dip on the edge of the bed. He instantly smiled to find you still on his bed, wrapped in nothing but his bed sheets, showing an indication of the love you shared the night prior. He reached forward and touched your arm.

      “Hey you…” He smiled. You didn’t reply, nor turn around.

Keanu moved towards you, approaching you from behind, and attached his hands to your waist. He began to leave soft kisses along your nude, exposed shoulder, running his hands up and down your sides, the same love evident in his gestures. That was when he heard you sniff.

      “Woah Y/N, are you okay sweetheart?” he whispered, slightly taken back, immediately moving himself away. “I’m so sorry Y/N, I shouldn’t have, I just thought…. I don’t know.” He spoke moving away, running a hand through his hair, thinking he had made you uncomfortable.

Your tears got heavier at that point. You felt like a fool. You weren’t even sure why you were crying, perhaps you were just scared that this was all only temporary. You felt you had tasted paradise last night, and to have that ripped away from you would have been sheer torment.

      “I’m sorry Y/N. Y/N? Is something wrong? Did I do something? I apologize if I did something wrong, I just thought we…you know…” he trailed off, still extremely concerned, his eyes filled with worry that he had been the cause for your tears. He gave you space, hoping not to further upset you.

      “Y/N can I…. can I touch you?” He asked cautiously.

You nodded in return, you wanted to feel him close. Perhaps it would be the remedy to calm you down.

He scooted over closer, and wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head repeatedly, whispering soothing dialogues in your ears.

      “You’ll be okay honey; you’ll be just fine. I’m right here. Talk to me, Y/N.” he whispered. You held onto him tighter, scared to open your mouth. You weren’t even sure what to say. What even was there to be said?

      “Keanu...” you started finally, with your shaky voice.

He looked you in the eyes, full of compassion, encouraging you to go on as he took your hand in his, rubbing it with his thumb.

      “Last night…we uh…it was special. It was really special. I just…” your eyes glanced around the room, unsure of the words to say next. You didn’t want to say more, perhaps this was your defence mechanism. To say it first, before he did. To reject. Before he did.

      “What about it, Y/N?” Keanu quietly questioned, suddenly feeling insecure. Had he not shown you properly what you meant to him? Had he not expressed his love to the best of its ability?

      “Last night was really special to me too, Y/N.” He glanced down at your intertwined hands.

      “Really?” you questioned, looking up at him.

      “Yeah… I felt something, I’ve always felt something here. I feel like there’s something that pulls me to you. I’m really not too good at the whole confessions thing but I uh…I can’t help but feel like this…feels right. Gosh I don’t even know if I’m making sense I just...” he trailed off, before you interrupted.

      “I uh, I agree. I feel something too; I see something in you that I admire. Your eyes connected finally, both feeling the confidence to stop staring away from each other.

      “If you’ll have me, I’m willing to try. You’re special, Y/N. I don’t want to lose that.” Keanu confessed.

You rest your head against his bare chest, pulling the sheet covering your figure higher up. He wrapped his arms around you again, resting his head on top of yours for the second time that morning. You traced the veins on his arms, admiring his figure and everything about him. His cologne from the night before still lingered on his porcelain skin. It felt nice to be close to him again.

      “I’m sorry, where are my manners.” He chuckled. “I’ll let you get dressed Y/N. Perhaps I can make us breakfast, if you’ll spend the morning with me, love?” he smiled down into your hair, breathing in your shampoo.

      “Perhaps.” You smiled up at him, grasping onto his bicep tighter. “Perhaps, I’d like that a lot.”

[miss-noo-na]

At Your Service (Wonho Smut)

Title: At Your Service

Featuring: Wonho (Monsta X x Reader)

POV: Third

Rating: NC-17

Summary: As a stylist’s assistant your job is rarely exciting, except for this day of course.

Note: This scenario was a commission! You can get your own commissioned piece, check out my profile for more info!

You would think being an on-set stylist’s assistant would be exciting work. Getting to interact with celebrities, play with pretty clothes, overhear enticing gossip, maybe even get invited to a swanky business party now and then.

Realistically, it was less than glamorous 98% of the time, and she should know. She had gotten the job by chance, not that she hadn’t worked for it, but most of these sorts of opportunities came from knowing someone who knew someone who was related to someone. Such was the case here and now.

A typical day meant picking up piles of clothes worn for a couple minutes and then tossed on the floor of the studio. It meant sweeping up pounds of glitter, ribbons, or other types of debris. It meant applying all manner of strange liquids to people’s skin for sheen and shine, or holding their hair up, or leaning against something uncomfortably to make a prop or set piece look better. It could be grueling work at times, and it wasn’t unusual for her to come home sticky and sore. 

When she walked through the door that morning, she expected another long day of tedious activities, but blinked rapidly when she set her eyes on him.

They had worked together before, many times in fact. His group was a repeat customer of their photography services and she had always been put on his shoots for some reason. If you saw him, you would think this wasn’t a bad thing, but she swallowed hard on the dry lump building up in her throat when he smiled at her.

See, as intimate as her job could sometimes be, she was terribly awkward, especially around such beautiful people. She had learned to keep quiet, lest she say something silly in such a compromising position. She preferred to be thought of as another prop, just a figure on the side there for support. It worked out usually, the models were so in their head about getting the right looks and poses that they didn’t even glance at her, much less talk to her.

Wonho was chatty, though, and friendly, too. He was kind to staff and liked to greet everybody, and thank everybody before he left. The first time he made eye contact with her and asked her name she almost thought he could see through her and was talking to someone else.

Worse yet, the more she worked with him the friendlier he became, until he had built up a report of actually flirting with her. She was in denial about it at first, there was no way he was actually meaning to say things so suggestively or give her those coy looks, but it became painstakingly obvious and her denial turned into brushing the whole thing off as a joke. Photoshoots were long and boring, he just needed something to do, he had to put all that cheeky energy somewhere.

He waved to her from across the room as they were getting the scene set up, drapey white pieces of fabric and cool toned furniture, simple but elegant. She waved back sheepishly and hurried off to her station.

“Here you go,” The stylist handed her a bottle as soon as she entered the room. She looked down at it.

“What’s this for?”

The stylist laughed. “Are you new here? You know what baby oil is for.”

She definitely did, and now her lungs felt tight as she gripped the bottle in her hand.

“He just finished make-up so he should be ready to go.”

She walked back onto set and saw him talking with the director and photographer, showing him where they wanted him to sit and stand and he nodded along as he listened intently. They left him then, off to fiddle with their equipment.

“What have you got for me today?” He asked as she approached, and she half-smiled as she waved the baby oil, not making eye contact.

“Oh, this should be fun.” He said as he started to undo his button down shirt. He was, obviously, very comfortable with his body and that somehow made it worse.

He pulled the shirt open as far as he could and stood in front of her, looking down with a “go head” kind of motion. She poured some of the thick liquid into her palm and rubbed her hands together so it wasn’t cold, then gingerly touched the center of his chest, swiping at the skin with just her fingertips.

He looked down at her feather-light touches. “You’re barely putting any on me.”

“Are you some kind of baby oil expert?” She mumbled, and he laughed, his eyes creasing adorably. 

“Well, kind of.” He said, then took her by the wrist and pressed her palm into his chest. “You really have to get a lot on there, it’ll absorb pretty fast.”

Despite herself, her cheeks flushed and her whole face felt hot as soon as the expanse of her hand came into contact with his chest. Even just feeling this small section of his body she could tell he was strong and soft at the same time and that made many a thing run through her mind. She very quickly started to apply the oil again, focusing on her task to keep the dirty thoughts at bay.

Once she got all the visible parts covered, she flipped the cap closed, gave him a bashful nod and left. She could see him from the corner of her eye the entire way, and his little grin reeked of mischief. 

After they got some shots, and she spent her time hiding in the make-up area, she was called back in. Now his shirt was totally gone, and they needed her to finish up the job. It was clear that she was the only person who felt weird about this, and that made her realize how silly she was being. She sucked it up, reminded herself and that this was a job, and put her professionals cap on.

She wasn't as stingy with the oil this time, making sure she coated him front to back, but she did so in long, hard motions, making sure he and everyone else knew she meant business only, even if in the back of her mind she thought of how the curves in his muscles felt under her hands.

The shoot went on and she was distracted by other menial tasks, which she thanked her lucky stars for. When things started to wind down, she began packing up. She wasn’t going anywhere, she always had to stay later than anyone else, but she also made to make sure the rest of the crew’s things were in order.

Per usual, the others filtered out one by one, thanking her for her time and reminding her to lock up when she left. She waved at each of them, and only vaguely thought of how she hadn’t seen Wonho yet. Usually the artist was the first to slip away, so maybe he had already gone home. She felt a twinge of disappointment that he hadn’t said goodbye to her.

She grabbed a nearby broom and started sweeping the floor once the last person had left, humming idly to herself as she did so. As she turned, she almost jumped out of her skin when she saw Wonho standing in one of the doorways.

“Why are you still here?” She asked, trying to regain her composure.

“I like to make sure everyone is taken care of before I leave.” He said, and it sounded genuine, but also like there was something else underneath the intent.

“I’m good.” She gave a little half-wave as she started sweeping again.

“You know you’re the only assistant who doesn’t look me in the eye.” He laughed as he walked closer.

“Are you afraid of me or something?” Suddenly he was so close, and she faltered in her motions.

“No.” She stated firmly, but didn’t elaborate. 

“I was starting to worry you didn’t like me or something.” He half-smiled as he rubbed his neck, and he looked boyish and almost shy.

“I just like to focus on the work.”

“I know, I’ve been trying to send you all these signals and I can’t even get you to notice one of them.”

She blinked up at him, gripping the broom tight in her sweaty palms. “Pardon?”

“I thought about asking for your number like 10 times but I always chickened out, so I thought I’d take a different approach.”

Before she could ask what he meant, he leaned forward. “A more...proactive approach.” He took the broom out of her hands and moved it aside.

She swallowed hard as she peered up into his clear, asking eyes. They were both stuck in limbo, unsure of what the other was going to do next, or wanted to do next. 

“Can I just kiss you?” He breathed out in a frustrated sigh.

Her eyes went wide but also she found herself nodding, feeling like she was in some kind of dream, yet not wanting to miss the chance in case it were all real.

He cupped the side of her face and pulled her into him, planting his lips on hers gently but insistently. Her eyes fluttered shut and her mind raced to all the things that had led up to this moment. If those little interactions, comments, looks, had been signals all this time, she really was blind as a bat. 

The kiss deepened on both ends of its own accord, as the realization of what was happening sunk in for them both and they were suddenly aware of how much they had been craving one another in secret. Sure, she didn’t know him intimately, they had only interacted in a work setting, but the attraction and the chemistry was undeniable and she wasn’t about to pass it up.

His hands fell down to her hips and he tugged her close, front to front, and she raised her own to rest on his arms. They were getting wrapped up in each other and she didn’t know where it could go from here, but she had a few ideas.

He moved her toward the couch, which for prop furniture was surprisingly comfortable as she fell into it. Their kiss only broke for a second before he was bringing her back, deeper this time, his tongue tentatively exploring her mouth. They pushed and pulled to find the right balance until she was straddling his lap and he was slipping his hand up inside her shirt. 

His mouth moved to her neck and he breathed hot against her skin, panting and grabbing at her in a way that made her heart race. She wanted so much and yet felt the need to pull back, refrain from the passion clouding her mind. 

“I don’t think we should-”

“I know,”

His tone indicated he had the exact same apprehensions. As much as they wanted each other, there was a level of unfamiliarity. Yet, neither one of them wanted to just stop.

Suddenly, he fell away from her, off the couch and onto the floor. To her surprise he started to tug at her jeans.

“Can I at least taste you?”

How could she say no? In fact, a rush of arousal poured through her just at the words, and she faintly nodded as she helped him remove the bottom half of her clothing. He gave her a sly look as he rolled the fabric down and off her legs, along with her underwear, then tugged her toward the edge of the couch. She looked up at the ceiling and felt flush, both from anticipation and a hint of shyness. It had been awhile since she’d done this with anyone, and being exposed to the harsh lighting of the studio was making her anxiety spike. 

He kissed up her inner thighs and stroked his hands around her hips. When he found her center he was feather-light at first, before diving in to press his tongue flat against her clit, making her back twitch and a small “ah” sound to leave her without her control. He smirked at the reaction, watching her face as he languidly circled her flesh, applying pressure and concentrating on the most important areas. She thought her nerves might make it too difficult to concentrate on the pleasure, but it was having the opposite effect, she gripped the couch as her pleasure was mounting quicker and quicker. 

He moved away slightly at one point, the pressuring decreasing and making her wanton for more, pressing her hips toward his face and one hand falling to his head. When he realized what she wanted, he sank himself further between her legs, his whole mouth consuming what it could, tongue working in a steady back and forth stroke over her clit. She gripped his hair tight into her fist, not really meaning to but also unable to stop it as her back arched and her release flowed through her without warning. She had never came that fast in all her life.

Wonho heaved a breath as he sat up on his knees, looking down at the spent mess he had made of her and obviously feeling proud of himself, but there was something else there. It was dark behind his usually innocent eyes, a hunger she could feel too and suddenly all that trepidation from before had gone out the window. 

She pulled her legs back and her bottom lip under her teeth, giving him confirmation that she was ready if he was, and he didn’t need to be told twice. He undid his slacks and pulled his already pulsing cock from its confines and sat up, pressing his hips toward her. He paused one last time, now looming over her, his hand grabbed the back of the couch. He looked so imposing and large hovering over her like this but it only turned  her on more. 

“Are you sure?”

She felt the head swipe over her entrance, wetting the tip, and suppressed a moan in her chest, nodding. “Yes, please.”

The please left her throat whiny and desperate and it sent a shot of arousal through him as he sank himself inside her, slowly but deliberately, wanting them both to feel every inch. 

She was tight in a way that indicated she hadn’t done this in awhile, and it took a moment to accommodate him. He was mindful of this as he eased himself back and forth, and she felt herself melting under his careful ministrations.  The pace, the building tension, the way she stretched around his girth, it was only making it harder not to scream out every obscenity that came into her mind as she gripped the edges of the couch for dear life.

He picked up the pace once they were both comfortable, aided by how wet she had gotten from earlier. Her shirt was pushed up, her bottoms and shoes on the floor around them, while now his pants were slacking around his hips and the gauzy shirt from the shoot was only opened at the top. They were both a haphazard mess but clearly didn’t care, especially when she reached up to pull on the shirt and pop half the buttons off, knowing she was going to have to personally replace them.

But she had to feel more of him, get his skin back under her hands like earlier in the day, only this time revel in how he felt, soft and hard at the same time, smooth as his heart pounded under her touch. 

He fought to keep his eyes open, creasing closed now and again, a look of pleasing agony etched across his pretty features. He breathed heavy with small sounds and grunts leaving his plush parted lips, and now he used his grip on the back of the couch to slam his hips forward into her, the sound of him hitting the back of her thighs echoing in the studio along with their labored breaths and frantic moans. 

The more she tried to focus on what was happening the more unreal it felt, so she surrendered to the hazy bliss that took over her mind. It was all mounting again, only this time he was right there with her, and he bowed forward as he tried to work them both through it. 

“Ah- I’m-” He tried to breathe out but he was stopped by a hiss as his closer angle brought him in deeper. The fact she had wrapped her knees around hips and bore down on him didn’t help. 

“Me too” She said as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him once more, feeling something electric shoot down her spine when he moaned into her mouth. 

Without a need to warn or say anything else she felt herself coming undone, and he was following close behind, his thrusts becoming stilted, pressing himself as far forward and as deep as he could with every push. His forehead fell against hers as he released everything he had inside her, just as the last throbs of her orgasm were subsiding, leaving marks on the back of his neck.

They both fought to catch their breath as he giggled, planting a kiss on her forehead before pushing himself back up and carefully removing himself. They were both a wreck, hot pink twinging his cheeks as he tried to clean them both up. He pulled his pants up and scurried to the bathroom to bring her something, and they both laughed awkwardly to ease any tension.

“You think you could come to my next shoot?” He half-joked, “I could use your...services...again.” He attempted a cheesy joke and cringed at himself halfway through, instantly regretting it. She laughed and pulled herself to sit up on the couch and put her pants back on.

“I mean I could always give you my personal line. You know...for services?” She made her own lame joke, hoping it made him feel less mortified. 

He smiled warmly, “I would like that.”

[red-pill-blue-pill]

Talk to me. Keanu reeves.

A/N: This is my first request ever (for @celestiaelisia) and I hope it meets the standards 💖

Word Count: 3337 (more or less I've edited this like a thousand times dude)

Summary: You work as assistant director in the John Wick 3 set and everything is quite shitty in your personal life.

Warnings: Body shaming (your coworkers shame you because of your weight so if it’s triggering for you please don’t risk it. You are all beautiful no matter what.), angsty angst.

Sunset Boulevard was crowded with tourists, as always. You walked fast, making your way through, you had no time to waste. You needed a new job. You had moved to LA a year ago. The relationship with your parents was hanging by a thread. You were a reckless teenager often getting yourself into trouble. Everything started when you stuck up for yourself in high school, people blamed you for the fights that happened and the director had to call your parents every other week. That's when you started skipping school, staying late out and fighting endlessly with you mother. The only support you had was your older sister. She had always been by your side in every tough situation. You came to her to seek comfort, to joke around, to cry your eyes out. She was everything to you, the only thing that prevented you from leaving. One day the situation got out of hands and you just had to run away. Your first option was LA, the city of dreams, or so people said. You'd wanted to be a movie director since you were a little girl. In high school your highest grades were the photography and audiovisuals ones, it was a vocation. When you arrived you rented a room in a small apartment with two other girls and looked for a job in the film industry, soon losing your hopes as it was a lot harder than it seemed and sticking to waitressing while looking longingly at the hollywood sign instead.

You had just been fired from your latest job. You were waitressing in a cheap dinner down town. Greasy food, watered down coffee and terrible tips. But life kept on going and rent wasn't going to pay itself so you had to keep on looking for another job. Looking online you found an opening as assistant director for the third John Wick movie. You experience in the field wasn't impressive so you didn't think much of it besides applying and keep giving out resumes at restaurants and dinners. Deep, deep down you still had a little gleam of hope that told you they would call you. Surprisingly, they did call, and the first thing you did was phone your sister. When you told her she got even more excited than you, she had always believed in you and even though this was just a little step she knew it was the beggining of a succesful career.

The filming had started a couple of weeks ago. Being in New York felt pretty rad. You walked effortlessly around the set, giving out the day's scripts, delivering clothes door to door, bringin everyone their cup of coffee... it almost seemed like you floated around. No one knew how you managed to do all of that by yourself. Sure you had some coworkers with the exact same work as you but they would rather spend their time sitting around doing nothing. Truth is you loved this job. You loved having the opportunity to meet actors and actresses, learning about directing and producing films and keeping your mind busy. You always carried around a little notepad to write down all the tips the director and the producers gave you. Your coworkers saw you as the ass-licker assistant and considering how people praised you for your good work, their hatred for you grew and grew each time someone complimented you. At first, you didn't care, you knew you had been working hard and that you deserved to be recognized for that. However, when the first insult came you knew it was going to be be harder than you thought.

"Hey fattie, why don't you bring me a coffee." one of your coworkers said as you were about to exit the trailer the director had assigned for all of you to take your work breaks in. You turned around to look at him, shocked by the words that had left his mouth. Your cheeks turned a bright red color and the other colleage sitting next to him stiffled a laugh. You were trying to process what had just happened, memories of high school came rushing to your mind like a shit tornado. This was too familiar. Sure, you were overweight but after all the bullying you had endured as a teen you finally thought of yourself as an intelligent, beautiful and sweet individual. You knew your weight didn't define you and you certainly didn't care about what others thought of you. However, hearing that "nickname" again made it all come back: the insecurity, the shame. You opened your mouth to answer but nothing came out, your brain replaying in loop how your classmates yelled insults towards you in the halls and how the girls teased you in gym class. Your eyes watered and you rushed out of the trailer, slamming the door behind you and trying to get away as fast as possible. You ran between the trailers, in search of yours. You picked up your phone to give a quick call to your sister, to ask for advice. You let it beep a few times, her answering machine spoke and told you to leave a message. "Hi sis, I was just calling to get some advice. It's been a couple of days since we last talked, hope you're okay. Give me a call." You hung up and kept walking fast.

“y/n!” 

You cursed under your breath as you heard that familiar voice calling you. You dried the few tears that had escaped with the back of your hand and put on the fakest smile you could, hoping he wouldn’t knotice your flustered face. You turned around and waved as you saw him approach you “Hey Keanu!” 

He tried to steady his short breaths “Wow you almost outran me there.” he chuckled. 

“Well, be careful grandpa.” you said holding back a laugh. He looked at you with eyes wide open as he laughed hard. 

“You offended me with that one I must say.” He stared at you with a playful grin and you felt your heart pound in your chest. 

He was wearing his John Wick suit and a few fake cuts on his face and the only think you could think of was how good he would look without that suit. Yes, maybe you had a little crush on him. Of course you did, who could resist him? After a couple of weeks of shooting you two had gotten pretty close. He was such a sweet man, he always listened to everything you had to say and he was really fun to be around. You just wished he would ask you on a date and hold your hand and kiss you. His voice got you out of your little daydream. “Anyways, I came to ask if you wanted to grab something to eat after work.” Yes, yes, a thousand times yes. “Sure!” you said trying to play it cool.

-

Weeks passed by and the mean comments just got worse and worse. "Disgusting" "Why don't you go to the gym fattie" "That shirt looks too tight on you we can see your rolls." No one on set knew and you planned to keep it that way. The shame was already unbearable and if everyone found out it was going to be even worse. Your self steem was slowly dissolving, leaving you feeling like an empty carcass, a shadow of the person you used to be. Outside you were still the same, no one noticed something was wrong, but inside you were an anxious mess. You feared everytime you had to walk on set, everytime you had to go out. You felt everyone's eyes on you, where you once had seen admiration you saw judgemental stares that burned on your skin. You started declining Keanu's invitations to go out to eat, coming up with shitty excuses you knew he didn't buy. You isolated yourself instead, crying you eyes out in your trailer, wishing to hug your sister and get that comfort you so desperately needed. She hadn't returned any of your calls and it all was adding to your anxiety. Was she alright? Had your parents finally convinced her to stop talking to you? On top of that you were messing up the friendship you had managed to build with Keanu. How could a girl like you be so delusional as to fall for a man like him. He would never see you as anything more than a good friend, if you were still friends that is. You were pushing him away, just as you always did. It hurt like hell. Tears started flowing again, harder this time. You were sure people walking by outside could hear you sobbing but you didn't care.

Keanu walked by your trailer to get to his and he stopped in his tracks when he heard you sobbing. He was starting to worry about you. He didn't know if you were trying to avoid him because you wanted to end your friendship or if there was something wrong in your personal life. Either way he wanted to find out. He enjoyed spending time with you, he always had fun when you were around. He thought of you as a bright, fun and beautiful woman who didn't give a fuck about what others thought of her. Your strength and sense of righteousness were the things he loved the most about you. The way you stuck up for what you believed in was admirable. That bright and cheerful side of you was already fading and he had noticed from the first moment. Keanu wasn't the type to intrude in someone's personal matters but when he heard you crying he knew he had to do something, he just had to think the best way to approach you.

The next day went by as always. You made small talk with the crew, talked to the director and producer to write down some notes about what they told you, and tried to avoid Keanu as much you could. You had caught him staring a couple of times and you just waved as you walked away. Fast. You knew he could sense something was off and you feared what would happen if he found out. "Maybe he'll join them. Or maybe he'll just laugh at you for being so fucking weak." Your mind whispered as your eyes welled up with tears.

Your trailer door closing behind your was the sweetest sound to you. It meant you were safe from the outside world, no one could mess with you in your safe space. Unless...

Your phone started ringing, breaking the silence of your small house. You ran to pick it up thinking it your be your sister but instead a male voice spoke. 

"Hello. Are you y/n y/l/n?" 

"Yes. And who are you?" You said, your heart rate rising up dangerously. 

"I'm you sister's husband." Silence took over the phone line. He was waiting for some kind of reaction that never came, so he spoke again, sniffling lightly. "Its all happened so fast. One day she was fine and the next one she had to be hospitalized and when you didn't come I assumed your parents didn't even call you-" he rushed his words. 

Your breath hitched and your head suddenly felt light "What?" You mumbled

"She passed away last week. Today was her funeral. I'm so sorry."

The phone fell to the floor. Suddenly everything felt like it was spinning in circles. Your heart threatened to come out your mouth and the tightness in your throat made it difficult to breathe. You fell to your knees with a loud thump. You opened your mouth to take a deep breath but a scream came out instead. A raw pained scream that tore apart your insides.

-

Keanu was smoking a cigarette outside his trailer. The weather was good considering it was winter and if he smoked inside the smell lingered on the bed sheets which he actually found pretty nasty if he thought about it. He was staring at New York's lightning, his thoughts lost in y/n, thinking about her behaviour. He blew the smoke and watched as it mingled with his condensating breath and danced in the cold air. The night was silent which was something strange in New York City, it felt almost peaceful. He finished the cigarette and walked to a nearby trash to throw away the butt. A pained scream cut the silence and echoed in the trailer zone. Then silence. Then another one followed. He turned around and started running towards where he thought it came. His heart was pounding in his ribcage, fearing the worst thing. He could tell who was the source, he would’ve known from a thousand miles away. 

He busted the door open and found you there, sitting on the floor with your arms wrapped around yourself as you screamed all your pain away. 

“y/n!” he kneeled on the floor next to you and hugged you tight. “What happened?” he said over your screams, worry obvious in his voice. He rocked you back and forth while he whispered sweet nothings into your ear, trying to get you to calm down so you could talk to him. It took a couple of minutes but you managed to stop screaming, turning into a crying mess as you slowly wrapped your head around that phone call. 

“My sister.” you said sobbing into his chest as he rubbed circles on your back. “she passed away.” as you let out those words total realization hit you and the tears started flowing faster. 

“I’m so sorry, love.” Keanu planted a kiss on your hair as he let you cry a little more.

When you managed to calm down -or maybe when you ran out of tears to spill- you took deep breaths and Keanu’s voice flooded your ears 

“Are you hungry?” you shook your head no and he just sighed “Okay. I’m gonna grab some stuff from my trailer to spend the night here. I’ll be back.” 

You moved off his lap and he stood up. “Keanu” you spoke, you voice sore and broken “It’s okay, really, you don’t have to stay.” god, you were a terrible liar. 

He smiled sweetly from the doorway “I know i don’t have to, I want to. Now wait for me, it shouldn’t take longer than five minutes.”  When he closed the door you let out a shaky breath and pinched the bridge of your nose.

He was right, he was back five minutes later with a bag full of food, a pile of blankets and some movies to watch on your laptop. He was an actual angel. He put everything down and sat next to you on the small couch, staring silently at you. You gave him a questioning look. 

“I know you don’t want to but I need you to talk to me. Open yourself up. I know something’s wrong.” he reached out to hold your hand. “Okay.” you took a few seconds to prepare yourself. 

“Since I started working here my coworkers had been shaming me because of...” you used the hand that keanu wasn’t holding to gesture to your body. He raised his eyebrows. “Yeah. Anyways, it’s affecting me a lot, that's why I avoided you, I didn’t want to make you feel embarrassed." He sighed relieved now that he knew you didn’t want to end their friendship but it hurt to think you really believed he was embarrassed of you. 

“And then there’s my sister.” you choked on your words and Keanu knew not to push it. He hugged you again. 

“Who’s shaming you?” he said against your hair. His voice had turned serious, a kind of seriousness you’d never heard from him, it was almost scary. 

“No Keanu, there’s only a couple of weeks left I can deal with it.” 

“Tell me.” he pulled away to look into your eyes, his gaze so intense you felt he was looking right into your soul. 

“The other assistant directors.” 

“Okay. I’ll take care. Are you sure you’re okay?” he checked once again.

You nodded. It wasn’t entirely true. You just didn’t feel anything at all. Pain had been replaced by nothingness and the void in your chest was even more consuming than the anxiety. 

“Do you want to take a shower?” 

You raised an eyebrow and he quickly corrected himself. “No, no I didn’t mean it like that.” his cheeks turned rosy and he thanked god for the dimly lit room. “A shower usually helps me relax a little.”

“Yeah I guess I could use a good shower and fresh clothes.” You stood up and walked to the small wardrobe, picking your pijamas and fresh underwear. 

“Will you be okay?” Keanu asked from the sofa as you were about to close the door. The white light from the bathroom shone on half of your face and for a first time he could take a good look at your red puffy eyes and flustered cheeks. His heart broke at the sight. He still thought you were beautiful, your plump cheeks screamed for him to kiss them and he had to resist the urge to just run to you and do it. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll call you if I need something.” you said smiling weakly at him.

-

You opened the door, steam flooded the small living-room, the scent of your shampoo invading the space. You stepped out of the bathroom, your hair still wet and your hairbrush in your hand. The wet trails of your tears got lost between the droplets of water that still lingered in your eyelashes. 

“C’mere” He said opening his legs and motioning you to sit down on the floor between them. He took your brush and started gently brushing your wet hair. He untangled the loose knots on your hair, the feeling of his hands caressing it making you hum with delight. This was by far the best moment of your day, maybe even the best moment of the week. 

The brushing stopped too soon for your liking and his hands dropped to your shoulders, massaging softly. “Do you want to watch a film or eat something?” His voice was soft, as if he was scared to startle you, and it felt velvety in your ears making your eyelids feel heavier than they did before.  

“Can we just go to bed?” that was the only thing you really wanted to do, leave this day behind as fast as posible. He nodded softly standing up and offering you a hand. You took it and stood up too, leading the way to the bed in the back of the trailer. You lied down with Keanu next to you. His fingers intertwined with yours as his thumb rubbed circles on the back of your hand. 

“y/n” he whispered into the dark. You hummed in response. “I don’t know if I’m overstepping here but you’re beautiful.” you felt your face heat up at the comment. “What I want to say is, your weight doesn’t define you and you are one of the most cheerful, bright and amazing people I’ve ever met. Don't anyone tell yoy otherwise.” He raised his hand still intertwined with yours and kissed your skin softly.

You felt a tear slid down you face. “Hug me. Please.” You turned your back to him and he spooned you. His arm was around your waist and his face was in the crook of your neck. His beard tickled you and his breathing was hot on your skin, his lips kissing your neck every couple of minutes. 

 “I would never be embarrassed of you, if anything, I'll cherish and adore you every day of my life.” he mumbled against your skin. You didn’t know what to say so you put your hand over the one he was resting on your belly and gave it a little squeeze. “Tomorrow will be another day.”

He was right. The thought of getting up tomorrow was dreadful to you but you had to push through, for yourself, for your sister, and that, with Keanu by your side, seemed a little easier. 

[karaimagines]

Can you do one where fem reader gets spider powers and becomes spider woman, but when she goes to tell Kara, she just got done berating James for being guardian, so she got scared and didnt. Then a few weeks later reader gets hurt and is taken to the DEO facility and gets unmasked and Kara finds out? With a happy ending? So glad youre back, your imagines are awesome

PART ONE OF TWO (?)

You’ve always hated spiders, it didn’t really help when you got bit by one during a DEO mission with Kara. You’d hissed as Kara transferred the cities latest perpetrator over to Alex and her team. She glanced over as you rubbed your wrist.

“Did you sprain something Y/N?” she asks, taking your hand in hers and examining it. You shake your head, looking up at her blue eyes and knowing she just x-rayed you to make sure. 

“I think a bug just bit me, probably a mosquito or something,” you wave off her concern as Alex comes over and congratulates you both on taking down a member of Roulette’s ring. 

“Kara wouldn’t know,” Alex chuckles to herself, knowing about her sisters impenetrable skin. Kara frowns, rubbing your hand reassuringly before gently laying a kiss on the bite. You feel blush creep up your cheeks, glad you have such a caring girlfriend.

“Come on bug bait,” Alex teases, wrapping an arm around both you and Kara.

It’s about a week later when the symptoms start manifesting. You start crushing door handles around the apartment and tell Kara she did it when she was asleep and trying to get to the bathroom. She quirks an eyebrow but takes you for your word.

You constantly have your earbuds in at the DEO all week and Alex knows something is up because you usually only have you comms in one ear. Somehow you know Alex is about to approach you, you turn around and stare her in the face.

“Everything’s fine,” you smile, but it quickly fades as Alex’s eyebrows narrow.

“How did you know I was coming over?” 

“Uh, you’re my boss?” you grin, looking down at your wrist quickly as it throbs. That’s a new development, especially with it pulsating green in the middle. Alex gasps as she catches sight of your injury. Her breathing quickens and you feel as if she’s about to gag.

“Please tell me that’s one of those neon watches and not a spider bite.”

Fuck. She knows.

“I can’t do that,” you say getting up and trying to walk away from the Director. 

“Hey!” she hisses, grabbing your arm. She glares at you and walks you off to one of the side offices. “Just let me run some tests Y/N, to be safe-” Alex goes to take your hand and suddenly you’re across the hall. Alex’s eyes grow the size of golf balls, her mouth opening and closing in disbelief. 

“Did you just-”

“No, whatever you think I did, I didn’t do I’m fine!” you insist, putting your hands in front of you defensively.

“I’m calling Star Labs, stay there!” 

You groan in frustration, you love Barry and his team but the last thing you want is a bunch of tests run on you. Your ears perk up as you hear feet pacing and and armor clinking ever so slightly, something tells you it’s James. You’ve known him as guardian before Kara ever did, it’s a perk of being in the same college photography classes. Even if you and James didn’t keep in touch it’s not like Winn can keep his mouth shut very well. He was dying to tell someone that wasn’t his stuffed animal or his mom.

The wind pattern changes suddenly and you realize with the shift that it’s Kara. You stay in the secluded office, hoping neither of them notice you’re eavesdropping.

“How could you!” she cries. James sighs, probably pinching the bridge of his nose trying to tell Kara something he can’t put lightly.

“I wanted to do this by myself, Kara,” he says defensively.

“I could’ve helped you, we’re friends, we’re a team James!”

“You can’t help me prove something to myself, this was something I needed to do on my own, being Guardian means I can help others who can’t stick up for themselves.”

You sigh, knowing this isn’t going to be easy for Kara to settle into. You hear Kara sniffle, it takes all of your strength not to go out there and console her.

“I just, James what would of happened if you got hurt?”

“I would’ve handled it myself,” he replies. Kara sighs, you hear shuffling and can only assume she’s hugging him.

“You don’t have to, not anymore,”she says, her voice barely above a whisper. You recognize Alex’s frantic footsteps and step away from the wall, she greets James and Kara before looking at you curiously.  

“Alex is everything okay?” Kara asks, you see her hand placed on her sister’s shoulder. Alex nods, eyes quickly looking to you for a mere second. 

“I’ve just gotta head over to Star Labs to help Caitlin with something really quick, biology stuff.”

You pretend to answer your phone so you have an excuse to come out into the hall without looking somewhat suspicious. Kara’s features soften as she sees you, her shoulders dropping and her hand falling from Alex’s shoulder to your hip. “I was going to take Y/N with me to help document anything in case the lab gets too busy,” Alex frets. You frown, knowing that excuse isn’t solid. 

Kara looks to you both before patting your back and smiling

“Have fun,” she says before turning back to James, “Do you wanna get lunch?”

“Sure I’m starving,” he replies, picking up his shield as he walks with Kara. She throws a wave to you and her sister before skipping along ahead of James.

“That was close,” You sigh, letting out a breath you weren’t aware you were holding.

“Barry said he’s expecting us, let’s get going before Kara comes back from lunch.” 

You nod, following behind the Director, slightly worried about what will happen next.