#picture this like an interview scene in The Office

[lilliejareau]

“would you survive the zombie apocalypse?”

emily: would i survive the zombie apocalypse? the answer is simple; yes. I have great combat skills, a gun that i know how to use, i’m in shape, i have more survival skills than most, AND i’ve seen every episode of The Walking Dead. I’ve got this shit down to a T.

*camera cuts to spencer*

spencer: no.

[yoonia]

risque business (m) | kth

⟶ Summary | Business and pleasure can never mix well. Not until he came into the picture while bringing trouble. He makes you break your own rules, and he loves breaking you apart into pieces, only to make you whole again with his sinful touch.  

⟶ Title | Risqué Business ⟶ Pairings | Taehyung x female reader ⟶ Genre | Boss!reader, Employee!Taehyung, Situationship!au, older female reader ⟶ Word count | 7,940 words ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; Porn With Plot (if you squint a little), power play, fraternising, forbidden relationship, age gap (older female), with explicit sexual scenes, including: sexual tension, public sex, office sex, mild exhibitionism, dom!Taehyung, sub!reader, brat!reader, mild humiliation, praise kink, mentions of drunk sex, deepthroating, punishment talk, edging, begging, hair pulling, dirty talk, crass language, biting, lip biting, breast play, nipple play/biting, fingering, oral sex (female receiver), panty sniffing, clit play, hand job, clothed sex, restraint, light bondage, spanking, pussy slapping, crying (while OC is in a headspace), orgasm control, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, forced orgasm, unprotected sex, creampie, cum play, aftercare. ⟶ Author’s Note | I have no idea where this came from, but it just happened. This story is roughly edited as this was written during my busiest week, but I hope you can still enjoy this one. Happy reading! ⟶ Story Note | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs). Banner design made by the lovely @shadowkoo, divider by @/cafekitsune | Posted in: Sept 30th, 2024 by @yoonia

⟶ Written as part of the @bangtanwritershq “Got A Secret, Can You Keep It?” Third Quarter 2024 writing event! ⟡ AU type: Black Swan - Taboo Relationship AU ⟡ Themes: Age Gap, Workplace Relationship ⟡ Inclusions: Coworkers, Edging, Fingering, Exhibitionism, Restraints, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Sub/Dom

⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Taglist | Ko-fi  ⟶ Read on AO3

He is a walking temptation. 

This thought had run through your head ever since the moment he stepped foot into your office for his interview. You still remember how the entire room shifted when he entered, his presence drawing all the attention that you only saw as his potential. 

You only realise now that you should have seen it as a warning. 

He is trouble.

Yet another warning that you ignored. 

Because he has always been trouble since day one; since the moment you laid eyes on him and he returned your curious eyes with a smug grin and a pair of sultry eyes; when he kept offering to stay behind in the office after-hours to help whenever he caught you on overtime; or to do small favours just to get your attention on him when he noticed that you kept trying to ignore his presence. 

You had once thought that you would be able to control him. He is younger, after all. A newbie in your line of business even with years of experience in the field under his belt which he gained from other places, other companies that he joined before stepping into your property to align himself with yours. 

And you believed that he would look at you with undying respect. For him to know to follow the rules. To follow your ways if he has a strong will to learn and prosper under your wings. 

Yet another mistake that you have made. 

Because he has all the control. He is the one to make his own rules, and before you realise it, he has somehow managed to make you follow them the moment you rescind any control. 

And he is strictly forbidden. 

Forbidden to look at, to lust, to even imagine to have any dirty thoughts with. Forbidden to touch. 

But when he is the one touching you like this—

“Fraternising in the company is completely forbidden,” you breathlessly whisper to him while stifling a moan as his fingers—those long, deft fingers of his—trace down your cleavage, made exposed after he plucked a few buttons of your blouse loose earlier while he was distracting you with his deep, alluring voice. 

With your body pinned against the wall, right next to the door to your office, you are made to feel as if you have no escape. Nowhere to run from his touch and his compelling presence. 

Taehyung’s chest rumbles against your palms as he chuckles deeply, as if knowing that you are trapped between the wall and his body pleases him. His warm breath falls on your lips as he keeps taunting you with a promising kiss that never comes. “And I’m sure you were the one who made the rules.” 

“Maybe. I can’t seem to remember quite well.” 

You might as well be, as the one who built this company from the ground up. But it is hard to think clearly, much less to remember everything that you had done about the rules, when your mind is barely coherent. Too hazy with lust. Too muddled with the sensations he is bringing to your body. 

Humming to himself, he brushes his lips against the shell of your ear and whispers, “And what do they say about rules again?” 

You can only sigh. Because the way his lips are touching the right spots feels too good. “Hmm—I’m not sure I can think of any.” 

Your mind has gone blank. Your body is feeling too much, and not having enough at the same time that you are starting to wish that he would just stop stalling.

Less talk, more action. 

Yet any word of complaint dies on your tongue when he moves his lips lower, pressing at the side of your neck. “They say rules are meant to be broken,” he breathes against your skin.  

“Who said it? You?” 

A chuckle, and then a press of his lips on your skin thaws your ire. A nip, not enough to hurt, but enough to send a different kind of heat rolling through your body. “Maybe.” 

Your eyes flutter, closing briefly when he presses a kiss at your pulse point. A shudder runs through your body and you relish in it, sighing at how delicate yet sinful it feels. And how much you love it. 

“I should’ve known that you’re nothing but trouble.” 

Another chuckle, yet he doesn’t move his lips. His fingers, however, slip deeper under your blouse, finding the soft spot hidden under the lace of your bra. “Would you have hired me if you’d known then?” 

“Hard to say,” you try to deny it. But you know that he can tell what a terrible liar you are. 

Because you had always known he was trouble. 

“Really?” he taunts you. The mocking tone of his voice doesn’t unnerve you much, however, when all you can focus on right now is the way his fingers are dipping lower, slipping under your blouse, under your bra, while his other hand trails down to your hips. “Are you sure that wasn’t the reason why you took me in? You wanted trouble, didn’t you? You craved it.” 

You open your mouth to answer, only for the words to fail when he captures the shell of your ear with his lips, nipping at it at the same time his fingers slip under the lace of your bra to find your hardening bud. 

“I can tell how much you love it,” he murmurs against your ear at the light shudder he ignites through your body.  

Groaning deeply, you realise that it would be foolish to try and deny it now. Not when your body is engulfed in heat, nor when your skin feels like it is burning under his touch. 

Your mouth falls open with a gasp when he shoves down the front of your bra. Your nipples have grown hard after his constant teasing and have become so sensitive to the touch that the brush of your lace against the hardened tip feels intense. Your chest arches towards him, aching for him to lay his hand on your flesh once again. 

Smiling wickedly, he grazes his palms over your breasts, lightly bouncing their weight and kneading them. His head dips lower as he begins trailing soft kisses down the column of your throat. 

As your eyes flutter close, you vividly remember that neither of you had the chance to lock your door when Taehyung first barged into your office, offering to ‘help’ after knowing that you were still there, finishing your work while secretly waiting for him. It might be risky, knowing that you are not the only ones working late tonight. 

But frankly, you don’t care.

Your breath grows heavy, filled with need, and every thought of being caught slips out of your mind the more he goes lower. His lips barely touch your collarbone before he dips, pressing a kiss on the top of your breasts, starting from one side onto the next. Your body arches into his mouth, hoping to lead him to go lower. Taehyung follows, his lips moving closer to the tip of your breasts. His fingers linger on the lace of your bra, pulling down and down, opening up more space as he shoves and tucks them under your breasts, pushing them up. 

With a humming sound, his lips continue tracing your skin as he begins bending himself lower. You can feel his lips moving close, hovering towards his target, and your hand moves to the back of his head, clasping and sinking into his hair to guide him there. But right before he reaches your throbbing bud, Taehyung simply flicks his tongue with a brief touch and stops, before moving to the other side. 

“Tae—” you gasp, feeling like you are getting throttled back down after anticipating the wave of pleasure that you are seeking. But then your breath is caught when he does the same, kissing and licking until he is close to capturing your nipple into his sinful mouth, only to flick his tongue over it and move away. 

A deep chuckle rumbles from his throat at the sound of your soft whine. “What is it, baby? Do you want something from me?” 

“Stop teasing,” you murmur between your gasping breaths.

With a grin on his face, Taehyung presses his lips at the valley of your breasts, coaxing you to draw a deep breath. He straightens up after, standing tall before you and starts perusing your body with his deep gaze. 

“I love it when you look like this,” he marvels, while his eyes are roaming down your exposed breasts, his hands remain on your hips, holding you steady. “It turns me on to know that I’m the only one in this building who can see you like this.” 

Your body heats up under his gaze, yet you try to hide it. “Does that make you feel good about yourself?” you mock him with barely an ire in your body. 

“It would be a lie if I say it doesn’t,” he says with a wicked grin on his face. ‘But, you know—” He briefly pauses as he runs his gaze down your body one last time. Licking his lips, he shrugs off the suit jacket that he is wearing, tossing it away. “I wonder what would everyone think if they saw their admirable boss in this position.” He leans in, whispering to you, “I wonder what everyone would say if they had known I’m the only one who can make you lose yourself like this.”  

Thinking about such a scenario brings that warmth up to your cheeks. For years, you have built a credible reputation among your peers and the staff working in your company. Known mostly as the cold, calm leader with a steel-strong resolve when it comes to your work, everyone has always looked at you with respect, sometimes fear. 

Until one night, he came and changed everything. 

A mistake. That was what you called it. 

You had hoped that holding the New Year’s Eve party at the office building early this year would help build a strong bond between everyone in the company. It was supposed to be a simple celebration where everyone could get to know each other better, for your staff to mingle and build their networks in a more relaxed atmosphere. 

But as the alcohol was served and the rush quickly set in, and everyone got swayed into the celebration, even you had to give in to temptation. 

Taehyung had been the one to approach you first. From offering you drinks, to becoming your companion to talk to, sharing a couple of flirty comments and compliments which made your cheeks flush. Until you suddenly found yourself alone with him in the conference room while the party kept going outside. 

And then everything just fell into place. It all started with your knees pressed onto the cold floor of the conference room, his fingers entangled in the strands of your hair, his thick cock sliding in and out of your throat, and his deep voice—his pleasured grunts and moans—filled the room, barely drowned by the beat of the music still playing loudly on the other side of the wall. And he took it a step further when he finally took you while having you bent over the conference table, right where all the bosses and leaders would be having a meeting at the start of the new year. 

For the first time, you experienced pleasure like never before. The thrill that you were made to feel that night felt exhilarating and intoxicating at the same time, that you have continued craving for it again and again. 

And your secret tryst has continued almost every night since then. Always during the night time, when the office is quiet—except for the small group of people that would often linger to finish their extra work after dinnertime. Always in the confines of the rooms available on your floor; in your office, in the copy room, and many times in the conference room, where he would tease you about your first night together as you reminisced every moment you shared with him that night. 

“What are you thinking right now?” Taehyung asks, bringing one of his hands up, trailing the mess he has made out of your blouse before reaching up to touch the underside of your breast. “Are you thinking about that night again?” he asks, leaning close so he can whisper to you, “when we made a mess in the conference room and let everyone sit around the traces, completely oblivious, during the board meeting held the next morning?” 

Heat rushes all the way down between your legs when you recall that moment again. Then he brushes his thumb across your hardened nipple, causing the heat to pulse wildly from the depth of your core. 

You bite your lips, swallowing your moan. “Or maybe,” he whispers in your ear, “are you thinking about the time I stole your bra, forcing you to go around the office without one, with your nipples almost piercing through your thin blouse.” 

The flush in your cheek deepens, growing warmer as you remember the shame and humiliation you felt that day. While nobody seemed to have caught on to the lack of undergarments as you went about with your day, the thrill of having the risk of getting someone noticing your nipples through your soft lavender blouse you were wearing at the time heightened your senses, that by the time he finally rewarded you with pleasure, every cell in your body erupted beautifully like fireworks. 

“Look at you. You’re only thinking about the naughty things we did and you’re already responding like a good girl,” he teases you with a chuckle, noticing before you do the way your chest rises and falls rapidly with your breath, when the memories make you feel hot inside, ready to explode. Taehyung revels in this sight for a moment, and then he bends down to capture your unattended nipple with his lips, sucking hard on it until you let out a soft cry. 

In one swift movement, he pulls away and tugs your blouse off while keeping your bra on your skin. And then he is on you again, one arm wrapped around your body, pulling you into him. With his other hand resting on the back of your head, he kisses your lips. 

Your mind grows hazy with the kiss, barely feeling it as Taehyung weaves his fingers through your hair. Until he suddenly takes a handful of strands and pulls back, forcing you to release his lips and look up at him. 

At the sound of your small cries, his lips rise to a grin. He leans close, pressing his lips right under your ear as he questions you, "Are you going to be a good girl for me tonight?”

With a gasp, you answer him, “Yes.” The sound comes out soft—too soft—showing him that you are already so close to unravelling. 

Yet he seems pleased as he leans back in to kiss your lips again. Your lips seem to melt into the kiss, while your body heats up further. “Funny enough, I find it hard to believe,” he murmurs against your lips. “Not with the way you kept teasing me all day.” 

“I did no such thing,” you try to protest. 

“Really, now? That’s not what I saw,” he murmurs with a deep voice, almost like a groan, “And I know what I saw.” 

You can only bite your lips. Because he isn’t wrong. 

You have been deliberately teasing him all day. Starting from the attire that you have chosen for the day, knowing that he would love it—a black pencil skirt paired with a short-sleeved, white blouse that is tight and thin enough to show a faint sight of the lacy maroon bra you are wearing underneath, and cut low enough to give him a peek of your cleavage whenever you bent down before him—to the way you kept leaning far too close whenever you came to his desk to have a brief talk about your recent project to give him the full show, forcing him to breathe in your perfume and feel your warmth against his body.  

“If I admit that I’ve been bad,” you whisper against his lips, “are you going to punish me?”

Taehyung tilts his head and shakes his head. “I’m starting to believe that you are beginning to love your punishments too much.” 

Looking right into his eyes, you reach up, pulling his tie down to lower his face while you run your other hand down the front of his shirt. Pressing your lips on his, you initiate a deep kiss, distracting him from your fingers as you reach down to his pants. Tightening your hold on his tie, you start undoing his pants with your clumsy hand while he continues kissing you like his life depends on it.

You move your hand inside his boxers, fingers wrapping around his hard cock, and a shudder rocks through his body at your touch. He lets out a groan and pulls away from the kiss, groaning deeply to say, “You’re really asking for some punishment, aren’t you?” 

He presses his lips on yours one last time, pressing a bit too hard for a peck, and then wraps each of his hands around your wrists. He gathers your hands together, easily clasping both of them together in one of his hands. At the feeling of being restrained, the urge to struggle for an escape builds within you. But you push it down, choosing to grow lax and let him take all control. 

Just like he always does. 

And just the way you need him to.

Once he feels all the tension in your body loosening, he pushes your entwined hands above your head, keeping them there to let you feel completely powerless. At the same time, he is getting the full view of your breasts as they are pushed upward the more he tightens his hold around your hands. The little noise you are making seems to urge him on, as you feel him hardening against your middle as he presses forward. 

“Is this what you want?” he asks while nipping at your bottom lip, drawing a series of moans from your throat when he does it while rocking his hips forward, pushing his barely covered cock against you. 

“Yes,” you answer with a hiss. Being held back, you are unable to rock back against him. Unable to touch yourself when the pulses of desire forming down below start growing more and more intense. 

But then Taehyung steps back, pulling roughly at his tie and slipping it off his collar. He uses his tie to bind your hands together before letting you go. With a smirk on his face, he kicks off his pants, not giving you the chance to protest as he grabs your waist and lifts you up from the floor. 

“Arms and legs around me if you don’t want me to drop you,” he says, and you immediately wrap your legs around his waist, hanging onto his weight, while you loop your bounded arms around his neck to hold yourself up. 

Pressing you closer to his chest, Taehyung captures your lips. He begins kissing you, pressing a slow kiss as he turns, taking you away from the wall and across the room, right where your desk is placed. 

Taehyung lifts you onto your desk, and you barely notice the movement and sounds happening behind your back as he shoves a stack of papers to the floor, too distracted by his kiss to notice everything else but the feeling of the wood pressing on your bottom. He pulls away from the kiss and unlatches your arms from his shoulders, still keeping them tied up together as they fall on your lap. 

You open your eyes to see his shirt falling off his shoulders, his chest rising and falling with his breath as he takes you in. He kneels down to the floor, plucking your heels and tossing them back, one at a time.

Taking his time, Taehyung slowly rises to his feet while running his hands slowly from your ankles, going up the back of your thighs. As he begins rising, he takes your legs in his hands and pushes them up with him. He bends your legs and positions the heel of your feet on the edge of the desk, parting them apart for him. A hum escapes him as he hikes your skirt up to your hips, revealing what you are wearing underneath. 

From the front, he wouldn’t be able to see much except for the triangle-shaped lace covering your pelvis, the maroon shade nearly matching the bra that is still attached improperly to your skin. But as Taehyung spreads your legs further apart, he would be able to see the thin layer of fabric growing thinner as it stretches along your slit, with merely a thin strip covering your folds, the back sinking between your bottom flesh, exposing more skin. As he continues to look, grinning slightly with pleasure at what he is seeing, the slickness you feel building from your center spreads, spoiling the thin layer of fabric covering your pussy and creating a flood right between your legs. 

“You’re wearing my gift.” His palms come down to the top of your thighs, and then slide back to your exposed bum. He begins rubbing gently on the skin and kneading your soft flesh with extra care as he whispers, “Good girl.” 

He gives your flesh a hard squeeze before he suddenly lifts you back up and flips you over. Placing your legs back to the floor, he bends you over the desk. Your body trembles the moment your breasts are pressed onto the table, while your hips are pulled back, pointing straight at him. 

You feel him bending down right behind you, pressing his chest to your back, his lips at the back of your ear before he whispers to you, “Put your arms forward, baby.” 

With a gentle hand, he helps you push your restrained hands forward until your fingers reach the edge of the desk across from you and you hold still in this position. With his other hand, he swipes away some books and papers that are still covering half of the desk, allowing you more space. 

“Keep holding to the edge,” he murmurs against the nape of your neck where he lays down a kiss, “Hold on as tightly as you can while I give myself a closer look.” 

You feel a tug at your waist before he pulls, and your skirt falls to your ankles. His hands grasp the top of your thighs, pushing them apart while tugging you back until your hips are nearly lifted, exposing every part of you for him to see. 

A sudden rush of vulnerability shoots right through you, of having your most intimate parts spread and displayed for his close inspection, of having no way to cover yourself from his perusing gaze, and a gasp escapes your lips. He brings the pad of his thumbs to your middle, slightly pressing at your skin to open you up. The thin strip of your panties slips between your wet slit, pressing against your clit, which he touches with the tip of his finger, causing you to tremble. 

A sound escapes you before you can stop it. More like a cry, and it echoes against the walls around you, sounding a bit too loud for a moment that is supposed to be kept secret. 

“Better to keep yourself from making too much noise if you don’t want to get caught,” he says with a chuckle. You can almost hear his smile when he adds, “And you better hold on tight.” 

Before you can figure out what he is trying to say, Taehyung presses one palm on the small of your back and slaps your bottom cheek with the other hand. Hard. Enough to send your hips rising, only to be stopped by the palm that is pressing you back down onto the desk. 

“Wha—” 

“That’s for deliberately dressing up the way you knew would drive me crazy,” he says while rubbing away the sting, before landing another slap on the other cheek, “and this is for making me go crazy during work hours by flaunting around me all day.” 

Another slap. “For wearing my gift,” he explains, and when you try to protest, knowing that you had worn it simply for him, he gives another slap, then, “and risking anyone else seeing it before I did.” 

Another slap. “For being so loud and making noises.” Another, then, “For trying to sneak in an orgasm before I even touched you.” His words make you gasp, recalling the way you tried to rub your covered pussy on his thigh earlier when he first pinned you against the wall of your office. 

While your mind is slowly growing numb, Taehyung continues, shifting between rubbing the pain he inflicts on your skin before giving you another spank and another, always while letting you know the reason why you deserve the punishment. And these aren’t gentle, light spanks, but hard and deliberate, aiming mostly on your soft flesh and sometimes catching your folds and exposed sex with each slap, his palm coming away wet with your arousal. 

The fire he ignites within you feels more intense than the sting that you feel on your skin. It comes from your very core, building rapidly until the pain is muddled under the pulse of pleasure. 

The urge to fight him kicks in once or twice, even when the pulse of your lust rises from your sex. But you find yourself holding still, your body denying your mind’s need to move. Except for the gentle rock of your hips whenever his palm lands on your throbbing folds. 

It feels horrible and incredible at once, to be in this position. To have someone taking over control. It makes you feel helpless, but, for once in your life, you are not fighting for control. You don’t have to feel all the worries of having your life, your world, tilting off of its axis when you are not holding onto it so tightly. So you let him have it. To have all the control so you can have a moment of reprieve. And you let him punish you because you know what is coming next.

Pleasure.

Pure, unadulterated pleasure.

“Do you think you deserve these punishments?” You hear pure sex in his voice when he whispers those words, and you moan in response. “What’s that, baby?”

“Yes, sir.” The words come out of your lips as if they come so naturally. It draws a soft groan from him as he gently rubs your skin, soothing you from the sting once he stops spanking you. 

“Fuck, baby. You make me grow hard from seeing how responsive you are.” 

His words draw a soft, low moan from your lips. All of a sudden, you feel the need to touch him. The sudden desperate need to know just how hard he is and release him from it makes your hands itch. 

You feel him bending down, his hands moving to your hips and planting a kiss on each raw cheek, as if trying to kiss the pain away. He moves to press his lips at the center, kissing your swollen folds roughly, before he suddenly rises and lets you go. 

Standing behind you, Taehyung lifts you from the desk and spins you around again. Grabbing your hips, he carefully lifts you up and lays you back on the desk. 

Lying back, you resist the urge to close your eyes, choosing to keep your gaze on him as he runs his fingers across your tender skin and up to your waist, and then back down again to rub across the top of your thighs. A tug, and he is pushing your panties aside, exposing your pulsing cunt to his hungry, prying eyes. 

“So beautiful. So wet for me,” he whispers with a deep groan. 

His fingers remain for a moment longer on the insides of your thighs, and then begin their climb up to your pulsing center. You haven’t even felt his touch, yet your body begins trembling, already anticipating the touch of his fingers at your heat. And when he finally finds your nether lips, pressing them apart to reveal the source of your heat, your hips rise and flinch. 

Taehyung hums as he runs his fingers up and down your slit with ease, gathering every drop of your arousal as he gently pushes a finger into you.  

“Oh!” A gasp slips out of you at the sudden intrusion. His finger feels thick as you seem to have grown tighter, with your pulsing walls clenching hard around him. Taehyung begins thrusting his finger in and out, adding another once you’ve grown slick and stretched enough for him. He keeps drawing the sounds of your moan as he keeps pressing at the right places, and then you let out a cry of pleasure when he presses his thumb over your clit. 

Bending over you, Taehyung slows down. “Keep your voice down, baby,” he whispers in your ear, drawing a soft whine from you.  

“Who said you can boss me around?” 

“You did,” he whispers, taking your earlobe between his sinful lips to nibble, before he practically growls deeply to your ear, “The last time I got you screaming my name.” 

You open your mouth to answer, yet he quickly presses a finger on your lips, stopping you from speaking. It takes you a moment to understand why. 

Too immersed in everything that has been going on within the walls of your private office, you forget to pay attention to the hallway outside. Your eyes snap towards the closed door just when you can finally hear it; the sound of footsteps, heels clicking and the soles of flat shoes dragging on the floor, as they walk down the hallway, passing your office without possibly knowing what is happening right behind these walls. 

But you find no energy nor will to pay more attention to them, even if you can still hear them getting further and further away. Not when Taehyung doesn’t let up, still moving and thrusting his fingers in and out of you at a leisurely pace, as if he wants to keep the rush of pleasure running through your body through the short distraction. 

As he begins quickening the pace again, Taehyung looks at you in the eyes and grins. “Is the risk of getting caught making you feel hot? You say that you don’t want anyone to see you like this, to know what you’re doing, and yet—” He looks down, his gaze sharpening and growing deeper at the same time when he sees his fingers disappearing deep inside you. “You’re growing wet down here, baby.” 

“No, I didn’t,” you try to deny it with a gasp. Yet your body betrays you, when your hips continue rocking against his hand and light gasps slip out of your lips. 

“Are you sure, baby? Because I can feel it here,” he says, pushing his fingers so deep your hot walls engulf the entire length of his digits tightly as the waves of your pleasure begin rising back up. “See? Your panties are completely ruined because of your juice.” 

With gasping breaths, your head falls back. You bite your lips to hold back your moans, just as your body continues rocking, chasing the pleasure that has somehow been growing more intense. “I—I like it,” you finally whisper, the truth slipping out of your lips no matter how much you are ashamed to admit it. 

“What do you like, baby? Tell me,” he coaxes you gently while he continues fucking you with his fingers, nearly making it hard for you to speak. 

“I like that someone is out there while you’re here, playing with my body,” you admit, both to yourself and him, as you open your eyes. “I like knowing that I might get caught while doing sinful things at the office. It turns me on.” 

Chuckling, Taehyung nips at your lips. “Good girl,” he mutters against your lips. “I love it when you are honest.” 

“Do I get my reward, then?” you tease him, drawing a smile to his face. 

“You deserve a lot more,” he groans as he gently pulls his fingers out of you, leaving your muscles pulsing against emptiness. “I’m going to make your wish come true. Maybe we’ll get caught this time,” he mockingly says, making you gasp, “but I want to make you come while all those staff are still roaming your floor.” 

Heat flushes through your body at the thought of such a possibility happening. Combined with the fear of being caught, and having someone who comes passing down this floor hearing the sounds of your wanton tryst to know what you are up to. 

“And I’m going to make you come so hard you leave a mess on your desk, so you’ll be thinking about me, about us, when you’re working here tomorrow,” he swears as he yanks down your ruined panties. You don’t even have to look into his eyes to know he’s going to deliver his promise.

“Now get your hands back to where they’re supposed to be and hold on tightly.” 

With a deep exhale of breath, you reach up, extending your arms over your head and once again reaching up until the tips of your fingers are hooked on the edge of the desk. Your arms are strained, so are your shoulders, and you can barely hang on. Having these arms away and your body being forced to adjust to the tension only makes you feel more hyperaware of his touch as he runs his fingers up and down the curves of your body. 

Taehyung bends over you, pressing a kiss on top of your chest. Then he moves down, kissing your breast, capturing your nipple in his mouth. He begins sucking, lapping, and grazing his teeth around the bud until you let out a series of soft cries at how good it feels. He then moves to the next one, doing the same, sometimes giving a light bite on your nipple until you are arching your chest on the desk, pressing your breasts to his mouth to feel more. 

In the back of your mind, you know that the two of you are not yet alone. You can almost still hear the faint footsteps walking somewhere at the far end of the hallway, yet you don’t seem to give a single fuck about it. You lift your hips just enough for Taehyung to pull your soiled panties off of you, slipping them down your legs and taking them in his hand. 

He gives you a cheeky grin as he brings it to his nose, drawing warmth flushing through your cheeks when he sniffs at it, breathing in the scent of your arousal with a soft hum. Once he has enough, he drops it to the floor, together with the pile of clothes and your discarded heels. 

Then his hands return to you, parting your legs before diving between them, kissing and biting your thighs as he makes his way up to your pulsing center. You have grown so hot for him already. So needy. That the moment Taehyung puts his mouth over your clit, your body erupts, and you see stars from under your eyelids. 

“Taehyung, I—” You gasp, hips rising with the waves of pleasure rushing from your core, and Taehyung immediately pulls away. 

“Naughty girl. Look at how responsive your body is to me.” With a deep chuckle, he squeezes your thigh, lifting your leg away from his shoulder when you don’t even realise that you have it wrapped around him when you try to push back for more pleasure. “Don’t cum just yet. Not until I have my fill and say you can.” 

He bends your legs back up on the desk, lifts your hips, and slaps your bottom cheeks one last time, giving one light slap on each side, before sliding you down to the edge of the desk. And then he dives back down, burying his face between your legs. With his gentle fingers, he pushes your thighs apart, opening you up, and then his mouth finds your center. 

With his sinful mouth, he opens you up, tongue slipping gently between your slit and lashing against your clit, hard and rough at the same time as if he is doing it out of hunger. You feel his mouth moving; sucking, kissing, biting, alternating from one action to another at a maddening pace which sends your mind spinning, floating high with the pleasure he is giving you. 

Your breath quickens as an orgasm starts to take over. You feel it coiling deep in your core, rolling out and ready to spread like a wave. Taehyung must be feeling it too, as he grips your hips and grinds you against him, making you fuck his mouth and tongue. And he doesn’t let up. Not showing any sign of slowing down. 

But he hasn’t given you permission to come yet. 

So you do the only one thing you feel right to do. You start begging, “Taehyung, please—” 

Hearing your words, Taehyung lifts his head, only enough for him to look up at you. “Do you think you deserve to come?” he asks, almost mockingly, while he works his fingers to continue what his mouth was doing to you. 

“Yes, Sir. I do.” 

“Tell me the right words.” 

You look straight into his eyes as you beg, “Please, Sir. Please let me come.” 

“Good girl,” he murmurs with a soft chuckle. He moves his hands, pulling your legs up to rest them on his shoulders, further taking away your control. And then his hands return to you, one holding your thigh up against him as he buries his face at your center again, the other reaching forward, pressing at your entrance, sliding in and out while he captures your clit with his mouth. And he begins sucking. “Now come.” 

Just like that, the dam breaks. You come with an orgasm so intense it nearly blocks out every sense in your body, blocking you from hearing your own cries of pleasure. You come while you are pressed against his face, legs shaking and toes curling, and it doesn’t seem to stop. Because he has yet to let you go. 

Taehyung slips another finger inside, going right to your sweet spot. The muscles in your thighs contract around him, your legs squeezing around his neck, pressing onto his shoulders. 

Yet Taehyung continues, relentlessly pushing you to another climax. 

Every single nerve in your body has come alive, lighting up like fireworks, burning, and burning, all in the best way possible. You feel like you might explode, and you can feel it happening as you rock against his face, allowing him to bring you further after pushing you off the edge of release. 

Turning your head to the side, you bite your lips, stopping yourself from making any more sounds. Your eyes are squeezed shut, yet you are now seeing stars, and your ears are ringing. You can feel it rather than hear it when Taehyung moans against your flooding cunt, as if watching you get off is helping him get himself off. 

Thinking about how hot that is sends you through another wave of pleasure. One that takes you higher than the last. Overwhelmed, you let go of the desk and reach down, pushing against his head using both of your tied hands and your hips, between pulling him towards you as you press your hips harder against his face and begging to be freed. 

You can barely remember how to breathe, and he isn’t making it easier when he continues lapping at your release until your hips rock back, your body searching for an escape. 

Reluctantly, Taehyung moves back and stands on his feet, bringing your legs up with him as they remain on his shoulders. You open your eyes when you feel him tugging at your hands, tsk-ing with his tongue as if disappointed. 

“I only allowed you to come, not to let go.” 

Still seeing stars, your heart still hammering in your chest, you can barely make out his figure as he looms over you, nor can you process his words. Then your eyes are cleared, and you see him kissing your tied-up wrists with dark mirth dancing in his eyes. 

Realising your mistake, a whine slips out of you. “It was too much,” you whisper, still breathless after what he just did to your body, and finding it harder to breathe when he steps closer, almost forcing your body to bend with your legs lifted against him. 

With a tug, he releases your hands and drops his tie to the floor. He keeps one hand around your wrists, holding them up so he can kiss around the marks left behind on your skin, and the pulses coming from your blood as it flows back through your hands. Then he uses his other hand to reach inside his boxers to pull out his stiff cock. 

Your gaze slides down from your hands to his, watching as he begins stroking his shaft. He has grown hard, his cock looking heavy and rigid. Your entire body tingles with your release, and the anticipation you feel from what is coming next. 

“Remind me to punish you for this later,” he says as he leaves one last kiss and releases your hands. “First, you need to finish what you started.” He moves over you, bending forward as he lets your legs fall to his sides, hanging limply over his elbows as you are made to sprawl beneath him, completely exposed. 

Your arms are still sore after being stretched up for so long. Your fingertips are tingling at the rush of blood flow. Pulses of pleasure are still winding through your body, and you feel no energy to reach up and wrap your arms around him. Yet your trembling hands still find the back of his head when he lowers himself on you. The tip of his wet cock brushes against your sensitive clit as he pushes forward, and you almost come to another set of orgasms. 

You can taste yourself on his lips and tongue as he kisses you. Blinding you with the sensation it brings until space and time no longer have meaning. Then you feel him pushing, entering you with one firm thrust until you are made to feel full, complete, as he buries himself deep inside you. 

Your eyes roll back when he begins to move, thrusting hard and fast, holding himself up by his elbows after letting your legs fall on either side of him so he can continue kissing you deeply the harder he fucks you into the desk. 

He moves back slightly, catching his breath as he bends one of your legs back up, stretching it toward the ceiling as he rests it over one shoulder. He continues rocking, thrusting steadily into you as his fingers slide down from your ankle, your thigh, finding their way back down to your core again. You rock back against his thrusts just as his thumb starts circling your clit, pressing and flicking until you are once again left breathless. 

“Yes, baby. Come for me. Come hard,” he orders you with a low voice, sending you over the edge. 

“That’s it, baby. You’re so beautiful when you come,” he groans, watching your body arch on the desk at the rush of pleasure taking over you, his praises drawing more heat in your core. 

And then he starts fucking you harder and faster, almost like he is allowing himself to lose control, to give in to his own pleasure. You open your eyes for half a second, meeting his gaze. The dark look he is giving you is filled with raw admiration and lust and wanton desire, and seeing him looking at you so intensely this way feels like such a turn-on. It makes you feel more, heightening the sensation you feel building in your body. 

He pushes his cock deeper, sending you to another orgasm, making a wet mess beneath your bodies just the way he wanted. The intense pulse of your climax and knowing that he has made good on his promise push Taehyung over the edge, and he comes to his final release just seconds later. 

You feel his warmth building inside you, filling you up with each thrust of his cock, each pulse of his orgasm, nearly sending you to another. You both collapse onto the desk once he comes to a halt, all sweaty and out of breath, but filled with contentment. 

When the initial rush of pleasure begins to wear off, making you more aware of your body beyond the intense pulsing of your climax, more flesh and bones instead of the unfettered sparks of carnal pleasure surging under your skin, everything that is happening at the present comes to you in an engulfing wave. 

Taehyung’s deep voice is whispering soothing words to you. His strong arms are holding you up as you continue shaking against his chest, and the tears that are pooling in your eyes from both pleasure and pain which feel so intense, so intoxicating. 

And when the warmth that you feel deep inside your core pulses for the last time, giving the final squeeze around his softening cock that is still buried inside you, a sharp gasp slips out of your lips. Even without the same firmness, he still makes you feel full of him. Both from his presence, and from the warmth of his release that is locked deep inside you. 

Taehyung’s gaze softens when he looks at your face. He gently sweeps away your messy hair from your face, and wipes your tears before they get a chance to escape. Pressing his lips on your forehead, Taehyung reaches out to the edge of the desk to pull a bunch of tissues. 

He slowly steps back, pulling his cock out of you. A gasp slips from you at the loss of his thickness, while his essence begins seeping out of you with each spasm of your muscles. With a click of his tongue, Taehyung looks down and begins cleaning up the mess on your thigh, ignoring the mess pooling on the wooden desk as he tosses away the soiled tissue. 

His fingers come back to your center, stopping the rest of his release from falling out of you and carefully pushes some of it back in. With a whimper, you reach down to grab his wrist, yet make no move to stop him as he drags some of his cum along your slit, around your clit, and pushes them all back into your throbbing entrance. 

“Remember that I still have one last punishment for you,” he whispers to your ear, nibbling at your lobe as he continues working his fingers to stop his cum from escaping you. “Make sure not to waste any drop of my cum until you get home, and I’ll excuse you this one time.” 

Tightening your muscles to keep every drop of his essence left inside you, your eyes flutter open as you nod and whisper, “Yes, Sir.” 

Author’s Note 2.0 | Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed this story, please leave a like and reblog to share with your friends and let me know what you think of this. See you in the next one!

— ©Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind, translations, unsanctioned adaptations are not allowed.

[borathae]

↳ Index [Day 09 - Shower Sex]

Pairing: Soft Dom!Namjoon x sub f.Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, Idol!Namjoon

Kinks: clothed sex (he doesn’t bother to undress before he joins her), he wears a suit, cunnilingus, body worship, praise, good girl kink, vaginal fingering, slight strength & muscle kink, blowjob, edging (m.receiving), vaginal penetrative sex, multiple orgasms (f.receiving), creampie, mentions of having dirty fantasies all day, he is so obsessed with her, cuddly & loving aftercare

Wordcount: 3.2k

a/n: at some point, all i could picture was Nanami in the hair pulling scene like this is how i pictured Joon to look in his wet shirt jdjfaj make with this information what you want. i also notice a pattern with my Joon girlies, you guys really wanna see him in a shower jdfsjf

Namjoon had a long day at the office. He had interviews to hold, had lyrics to write and meetings to attend. It was an exhausting, tiring day, but that all starts to lessen the moment the apartment door falls in its lock behind him.

“Honey, I’m home!” he calls out and begins taking off his outside clothes.

You don’t come running to greet him, which wasn’t such a surprising thing to happen, but this evening he is sad about it. It would have cheered him up a lot to be greeted by you. But alas, he has to wander through the house in search for you. Your hobby room is already cleaned up for the day and you laid out a few restaurant menus for dinner. Namjoon flips through the options, deciding on a jjajangmyeon place in the end. He leaves his bag by the dining table and calls out for you again.

You don’t answer him, but he is starting to get a gist of where you are. His latest album is playing from the direction of the bathroom. Namjoon smiles as he makes his way to you. You like to deny it but Namjoon always calls you his biggest fan. There are too many occasions where he comes home to you listening to his music and it always does something to him. Tonight it makes him crave every breath you take and every syllable you could ever mutter.

He knocks.

“Joon, is that you?” you call out and turn the music down.

“Yes, it’s me baby”, Namjoon confirms, “I know you’re showering right now, but can I come in?”

“It’s open.”

Namjoon slips into the bathroom, letting the door fall closed. You turned off the water for now, spreading soap on your skin. The air smells floral and good. Namjoon inhales deeply, feeling his chest lighten. This is your scent.

“Hey there baby, how was your day?” you ask him.

“I’m just glad that it’s over. I had to deal with too many fucking idiots.”

“I’m sorry to hear this. Do you wanna talk about it?”

He shakes his head, “just keep showering, I’m okay just looking at you.”

You chuckle, “okay, if you say so”, you say and turn your back to him so you could wash off the soap. You do so with the rain shower, using the opportunity to wet your hair as well. Your eyes are closed for it so you have no idea what Namjoon is doing until you suddenly feel two hands on your waist.

You smile, turning with your hands instantly seeking his chest.

“Huh?” You open your eyes. No Namjoon in front of you. “Baby?”

“Down here.”

You look down. Namjoon is kneeling in front of you, still dressed in his office suit which is now getting wet. He also didn’t bother to take off his glasses, looking up at you past their foggy, watery lenses. His clothes are already sticking to his sculpted body, especially around his chest and arms the fabric is stretching.

“What are you doing? You’re getting your clothes wet”, you gasp and try to turn the water off.

“I’m already wet, just let me have a taste, baby. Please”, he begs.

“Do you mean that?” your heart is racing.

“Yes, please. All I thought of today was you. You kept me sane as much as you drove me crazy. I want you so much I can barely breathe.”

“Holy fuck, Joon”, you get out. You reach out to at least take off his glasses, placing them on the soap stand for now. Then you nod your head.

“Thank you. Baby, holy fuck”, he moans and pulls you closer. He connects his puffy lips with your lower stomach, kissing every inch of it while his masculine hands are running along your back.

You are terribly sensitive on your stomach so having him kiss you with such devotion is making your skin feel electric. You sigh his name, gasping each time he sucks on your skin gently.

“You smell so good. I’m addicted to you, baby”, he purrs in this terribly deep and seductive voice of his’. He dances his nose over your skin until his lips are on your hip bone. You are especially tender there and Namjoon worships it with eager kisses and languid licks.

“Joon, this”, you get out, following it with a quiet moan. If he wasn’t holding you in his strong arms like this, you would already crumble.

Namjoon purrs and kisses a way to your other side to repeat what he did. He wants you to feel worshipped everywhere, not one ounce of your perfect body should feel left out. The thought of holding you, touching you, was everything that kept him going today. He spoke of new music and answered the tiring questions of the uncreative interviewers with utter professionalism, but in his mind he was undressing you and making you arch your back. He listened to the egotistical, greedy ideas of the company and tried to redirect them in the most respectful of ways, but in his mind he was burying his fingers in your warm walls and making you scream his name. You were the very thing that kept him going today, so he truly wants to savour you now that he finally truly has you.

He lifts his lips from your well-loved skin, making himself taller by lifting his butt from his feet. His tender hands dance up your back as he goes, his eyes never leave your face. Once he truly straightened up, he reaches you just under your breasts, resting his chin against the spot.

“My motherfucking muse”, he says, voice vibrating in his chest.

You smile, although drunkenly, and run your fingers through his wet hair. It sticks to his face so prettily, glides through your fingers like it was made to be touched by you. Namjoon closes his eyes and smiles, body tingling from the touch.

“Yeah, you seriously are”, he decides in a raspy whisper, moving his head to kiss your upper stomach. He slides his hands to your sides, guiding them down as he kisses a trail to your heat.

“Joon, oh god”, you croak, chasing his lips needily. You really want him to use his mouth on your aching pussy. You can’t take much more.

“What do you need, my baby?” he asks, voice tickling your skin.

“Your mouth, please.”

“Mhhm, you’re so sweet when you beg for me”, he lulls, fulfilling your wish gladly. He tilts his head back and connects his mouth with your heaven. He parts you with the help of his tongue by flicking it through your folds slowly and with thought behind his movements. The way you sigh his name and grip his hair is so fucking addicting. The way you close your eyes and tilt your head back will always be his most favourite view.

When you are like this, he wants to make you feel so good. He exists just for your pleasure, feeding on your every reaction.

He connects his fingers with your pussy, massaging your entrance while his tongue circles your clit.

“Yes, please”, you beg, hips stuttering in anticipation.

Namjoon pushes into you, moaning with you as he fills you out. So warm and soft. The real sensations will always be so much better than any fantasy ever could. Namjoon closes his eyes, purring your name as his tongue makes sweet love to your clit. He pumps his fingers in and out of you carefully, helping you get used to having him with you again.

“Joon, please don’t stop”, you croak, dropping your back against the shower wall just so you can arch it. You lift your right leg and put it over his shoulder, keeping him closer like this. You open up so much better for him and Namjoon takes it eagerly. He growls into you, lips and tongue working together to devour your sweet clit while his fingers curl inside you in search for your favourite spot. He knows your body blindly, so it only takes him a moment before he has you arching your back again as you moan his name, walls throbbing round his long digits.

“There, Joon”, you whimper, twisting his hair.

Namjoon growls into you, curling his fingers right where you need it most. Your clit is throbbing under his tongue, growing in size. He swears that he feels high. You are so sweet and so hot.

He drops his other hand from your waist and begins rubbing himself over his soaked slacks. His cock is so hard and swollen, twitching into his palm as he tries to make it easier to bear. His mind is running wild with fantasies of you. He is taking you against the wall, bending you over and taking you from behind, carrying you as the water soaks you and it’s driving him insane. His mind is his own worst enemy and he only realises that he began taking out his frustrations on you when you wail up with shaking knees.

“This is making me cum! Joon! Please!”

Namjoon comes back to reality. His fingers picked up speed, making angry love to your cunt and his mouth is making out with your clit sloppily. He became a little rough with you, bringing you close like this.

Namjoon growls because that is all he can do and keeps the rhythm going, rubbing himself faster as well. He peels his eyes open, keeping you pinned in a dark, hungry look.

“Namjoon! Ah!” you moan and arch off the wall, grabbing his head with both hands and closing your leg around him tighter as you break on his fingers.

Namjoon helps you through it with a dizzy head and his cock throbbing in his slacks. By the way you shake and scream, it is one of the more intense ones. He loves them because of how fucking honest they are. Not that you ever have to fake your orgasms with him. Namjoon plays your body as well as he plays his fucking music, he pays attention to you as well as he does to the words he writes. You are his most beloved artwork and the one he takes care of the very best. Orgasms with him are never fake, but damn, sometimes they’re just so intense you swear you pass out for a second.

This right now is one of those orgasms and as it dies down you have to tug him off of you because you were just too sensitive.

“Break please, too much”, you beg.

“Mhm good girl”, he lulls, redirecting his lips to kissing your inner thigh and his fingers to hold your leg.

“You are so mean. Why did you make me cum like this?” you whine, panting heavily.

Namjoon lets out one of his deep chuckles, smirking against your skin, “because your pleasure is important to me. You know that it is.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me one day”, you say and chuckle breathily, “fuck.”

“Mhm, yeah”, he purrs and sets down your leg carefully. He begins standing up, kissing a path up your body as he does until he is face to face with you. He cradles your cheeks, pulling you into a kiss. Just by the way his lips move against yours and how he can’t seem to stay quiet, you know that he is still hungry for more.

You break the kiss, giggling when he chases you needily.

“Do you want more?”

“Can you take more?”

“What a question, Joonie”, you say, playing with his hair.

“Fuck baby”, he sighs, dropping his forehead against yours, “I want you like I want coffee in the morning.”

“Mhm, my poet”, you purr playfully and drop to your knees.

“What are you doing?” he gasps, knees buckling as he watches you open his slacks. You tug them over his butt together with his briefs. His cock jumps free, slapping his stomach and making him moan in relief. The volume of his sounds grows as you sink him into your mouth a second later.

“Wait woah”, he yelps, gripping your head with both hands, “wait, wait, wait. Stop.”

You let him pull you off, allowing your drool to drip out of you.

“Don’t do that”, he hisses.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m too sensitive.”

You giggle, melting his heart with the sound of it, “and? Just try not to cum too soon”, you say and take him back inside. You make puppy eyes up at him, moaning around his cock and bopping your head back and forth.

Namjoon scrunches his face, wobbling so much that he ends up having to seek support on the wall. His arm tenses, stretching the fabric of his shirt. His wet hair hangs into his face like this, the water trickles down his big body. You mewl because of the view, sliding your hand to his balls to play with them as you fuck his cock with your throat. When you are like this with him, you have no gag reflex, no desire to breathe. Everything you exist for and need is his cock deep in your throat. 

“Fuck baby, you’re too much”, Namjoon lulls, deep voice even deeper. He pets your head gently, scrunching his nose and following it with an angry, “fuck.”

You mewl, sliding off of him enough that you can circling your tongue around him as you suck him greedily. The combination of your wet tongue and the intense sucking, makes his knees buckle.

“Shit baby”, he curses, dropping his other hand on the tiles as well. He falls to his elbows, head hanging between his arms and lips parted as the deepest moans roll of his tongue. He can’t even look at you anymore, eyes squeezed shut and brows tightened.

He turns you on so much. You massage his balls needily, sinking more of him back into your willing mouth. You have so much drool inside you that his girth fucks it out of you, forcing it to drip down your chin. You don’t mind the mess when it means making Namjoon moan like this.

“Baby, you’re too much”, he purrs, hips twitching each time you bottom out. It feels so good. All he fantasised about today was you and how it would be to pleasure you. His own body fell short in his fantasies, so to have you suck his cock like this, overwhelms him in the best way possible. You are so warm, so soft and so fucking sloppy. He could cum in your mouth, he knows you would like that. He would just have to let go, to give in, to give up control over his body. He could do it. Right now. Just do it.

“No baby, don’t”, he stops you, pulling you off his aching cock.

“Why?” you mewl, pouting at him. Your lips are puffy from use, your nose is a little snotty.

“I can’t cum in your mouth.”

“Yes, you can. Please”, you say and stick out your tongue.

“No, baby”, he denies you, cradling your cheek, “stand up.”

You obey his order, letting him pull you to your feet just by holding your cheek. He presses you against the wall, keeping one arm around you. Like this, you rest on it while he finds support by leaning his elbow against the wall.

“Put your leg around me.”

You obey.

“That’s it. Keep looking at me.”

“Joon”, you whimper, having to writhe as his cock breaches your dripping cunt.

“Keep looking at me, baby. Keep fucking looking at me.”

“Joon oh god.”

“Hurts?”

“No, just…gonna cum on your cock again. Feels so good.”

“Mhm, it does. Baby, your pussy is where I fucking belong”, he purrs and bottoms out. He picks up a passionate, deep rhythm instantly, tasting your moans and feeling you shake, “that’s where I’m supposed to pump my fucking load. Deep inside you, claiming you, making you mine. Fuck baby, all I thought of today was fucking you deep and slow.”

“Joon”, you whimper, hands unable to decide whether you want to clutch his broad shoulders or twist his hair.

“Keep moaning my name like this, good girl. What a fucking good girl you are”, he purrs, making hot love to you with his eyes just as much as he does with his perfect cock. The way he has you angled and how he pulls you closer with each thrust, allows his tip to fuck against your g-spot each time he bottoms out. Your clit rubs against his stomach like this and sometimes when you arch your back, your nipples rub against his clothed chest. If there is one word to describe how he makes you feel it would be enchanted because every single fiber of you exists for him and his magic touch.

“I’m yours”, you croak, fingers finally gripping his hair to twist it. You cannot take it any other way.

“You are, baby. Mine. All mine to fuck and fantasise about and fucking love. Mine. My woman”, he rasps, fucking into you in deep, long strokes with each word. It shakes you, ruins you to the very core. You thought that his mouth and fingers are your damnation but you were wrong. This is it. Sensitive from you first orgasm, riled up from sucking his cock and now cradled against his strong body as he pumps his cock into you, you find your second orgasm of the evening.

You sob into him, clutching him for dear life while he holds you safely. His hips never slow down, helping you reach highs you never thought able to reach.

“Good girl, cum on my cock. My good girl, scream my name like this, yes that’s it”, he talks you through it because he always does. If his mouth wasn’t preoccupied with making you cum, he always makes sure to make you cum with it another way. There isn’t one orgasm with him where he doesn’t talk you through your shakes and whimpers.

Tonight it makes you tense up so vigorously that Namjoon finds no strength to go on.

“Can I cum inside?” he gets out.

“Yes, please”, you whimper, hugging him tighter.

“___”, he moans and breaks, finally reaching the kind of heaven he craved for all day. He pumps into you in sloppy, quick ruts, growling into your neck and holding you against him as tightly as possible. This is everything he wanted and more and once he finally comes down, he feels shaken to the core.

He holds you, kissing whatever part of your body he can reach.

“Baby, my baby, oh my baby. I love you, I fucking missed you, oh baby. How are you? Are you okay? Did I hurt you? Fuck, I love you”, he babbles, carrying his heart on his palms.

“I love you too, baby. I feel so good and you didn’t hurt me”, you say.

“But you’re shaking, baby was I too rough?”

“No, just shaking because it was intense. And ‘cause I’m a little cold.”

“You are? Oh baby, I’m sorry. Let’s dry up and cuddle on the couch, yeah?”

“Mhm yeah”, you move your head so you can look into his eyes. You smile, wiping his hair out of his face.

He leans into the touch, feeling star struck. He is so happy to be yours.

“I can’t believe you horndog didn’t even bother to undress.”

“I was so horny, you have no idea.”

You giggle, “you’re cute.”

He smiles, “what do you think of Jjajangmyeon? I saw the menus outside.”

“Sounds amazing. They taste especially well after shower creampies.”

“Shut up”, he says, suddenly feeling shy.

“Never”, you tease, chuckling fondly as you pull him into an adoring kiss.

[tavolgisvist]

That evening in the dressing-room of the cinema at York two girls came in and asked to interview them. They said they wanted the interview so they could make a tape of it for a third girl who was ill in hospital. John sat in a corner away from the group. ‘It’s probably just an excuse to get into our dressing-room,’ he says. ‘Anyway women should be obscene and not heard.’ ‘Switch it on now,’ says Paul conducting the interview for the bewildered girls. ‘What’s your name?’ he asks Ringo. ‘John’, says Ringo. He then asks the girls their names. ‘How did you like Germany when you were there?’ asks the girl whose name is Eileen. ‘We liked it fine,’ says Paul. ‘It was hard work,’ says Ringo. ‘Yeah’, says George. All during the interview they sign autograph books that had been sent to their dressing-room, and when they aren’t actually answering a question they read letters from fans. The girls walk over to John. ‘How do you write the songs ?’ says the girl whose name is Daphne. John doesn’t answer. Paul shouts across the room in a voice you use to an errant child, ‘Tell us about the songs, John, tell us about the songs.’ ‘Sometimes we write them together’, says John. ‘Sometimes not. Some of them take four hours; some twenty minutes. Others have been known to take as long as three weeks.’ ‘What’s your favourite song that you’ve written?’ ‘I think “Glad All Over”,’ says Paul, opening his eyes even wider. ‘No, I’m kidding. I think at the moment it’s our new record “I want to hold your hand”. Is that all right ?’ ‘Yes, that’s fine,’ says Eileen. ‘Thank you very much indeed.’ ‘Oh dear,’ says Daphne. ‘It doesn’t seem to have been recording. Sorry about that.’ <…> Inside, the compere is asking: ‘Do you want to see John?’ (Screams.) ‘George?’ (Screams.) ‘Paul?’ (Screams.) ‘Ringo?’ (Pandemonium.) They appear, and all during their act a man in a dinner jacket stands in front of the stage looking bewildered. The girls wave, hold up pictures, and scream. <…> Paul runs off stage shouting, ‘Oh my God, my ulcer. Nell, do you have a ciggy?’ Aspinall alternately hands him a cigarette and leads him toward the stage door where their car is waiting to take them to the hotel. <…>

The Beatles are in their hotel bedrooms finishing their dinners. George feels tired and goes to sleep. John, wearing a T-shirt and an old pair of trousers, wanders down the hallway past the guard, into the room shared by Paul and Ringo. The table filled with the empty dinner dishes is at the foot of Ringo’s bed. Ringo, dressed in pyjamas, is sitting up in bed. Paul, also in pyjamas, is talking about a film, The Trial, which he has just seen in London. He is describing a scene in which there is a misunderstanding about a word, when the telephone rings. ‘Hello, helloho,’ says Paul in a falsetto and then, realizing it is a friend, says Hello seriously. <…> ‘What I liked best in The Trial’, he says, ‘was when they walked quietly through the concentration camp. It was so dead quiet, just like another world and Elsa Martinelli in the background just necking like mad.’ <…> ‘Uh, I need another drink, baby,’ says John. Paul goes to the phone. ‘Hello? Yeah, send us six single Scotches - No, make it doubles, yeah, doubles.’ <…> They started discussing the feelings of adults towards pop music. ‘We’re definitely fighting a prejudice,’ says John. ‘That’s why I’m interested in John getting his book out,’ says Paul. ‘I mean, I haven’t got a cut or anything. It’s just that one of us would be doing something to make people notice. I mean, it’s the same as if one of us wrote a musical. People would get rid of their prejudice and stop thinking that pop people can only sing or go into a dance routine.’ <…> ‘You remember after that big spate of publicity we got in the national papers,’ says John, ‘which was uncalled for by our office. We were news at the time, and it only just happened we clicked in fourteen editors’ minds at the same time. One day Paul was ill and I believe one of the papers wanted a picture of him. Nell told them they couldn’t have it, and the photographer said: “You mean, after all the publicity we gave them – we made them.” I’d like to meet this fella who said it.’ Paul explained that they never talk to the teenage magazines. ‘They just make it up. I think they prefer it that way…’

(Love Me Do. The Beatles Progress by Michael Braun, 1963/1995)

Part (I), (II), (III), (IV), (V), (VI), (VII), (VIII)

(+ about Paul's flue)

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

David Tennant and Michael Sheen on The One Show 10.7.2023 ❤ :)

(also there Zoe Saldana and Nicole Kidman, and Alex Jones and Jermaine Jenas as interviewers :))

Int1: Well, this is lovely for Wednesday, isn't it?

David: It's a lovely way to spend a Monday night, innit?

Zoe: I was excited to see you both.Likewise.

Int1: Now, Good Omens. I mean, people love the first series. It's back for a second. If there's anybody watching who didn't see the first one, they don't know what we're talking about. Go on, Michael. Fill them in.

Michael: I play an angel on Earth to do angel things.

David: I play a demon. I'm Hell's emissary on Earth.

Michael: And we decide that it's a lot easier if we team up because it saves on shoe leather. So we come to an arrangement, and then we realize that we actually quite like it on Earth, and we don't really want to deal with our respective head offices. And in season one, we save the world from the apocalypse. Season two...

David: And get excommunicated by our respective...

Michael: Yes. Exactly. So season two picks up. We're now...

David: We're at liberty.

Michael: Yeah. I'm in my bookshop, having lovely meals and watching lovely shows and hanging out with my best buddy here.

David: I'm living in my car, unfortunately, becausemy apartment came with a job.

Michael: And then John Ham turns up naked at mybookshop in Soho one day with no memory. And so the mystery begins. Int2: The plot twist. We know we've got a clip.

Nicole: I don't understand why he's [Jon Hamm] not on the couch.

Michael: Well, exactly. Nor me. I think everyone's asking the same thing.

David: Apparently it's a BBC rule you have to be clothed, so he was having none of it.

Int1: Yeah, that would push Monday over the edge. Let's see the clip.

Int2: Let's see the clip.

[familiar trailer plays, nothing new there]

Michael: When I said that line in the scene [I think I may have just started a war.], I knew it would be in the trailer. Do you know when you sometimes go, yeah, this is a trailer, and I got really nervous .I couldn't do it. Doing it over and over again.

Nicole: Well, I'm looking for something to watch. I'm watching that.

Zoe: Yes.

Int2: I like how you were like, yeah, that's the one.

Michael: On 28th.

Zoe: Okay, you watch ours and we watch yours.

Michael: Deal. We're in. We're in.

David: Yes, very good, very good.

Int1: Beautiful. This is the thing, at the heart of Good Omens is this unlikely friendship between you two, but in real life so you filmed it, you didn't know each other, and then they clicked. Look at them. They joined at the hip. They do everything...

Michael: It's true.

Int1: You even had babies at the same time.

Michael: We did.

Int1 [to David]: Your wife posted this picture of you two leaving the hospital.

David: Look how in tune we are with each other.

Michael: And now those two little babies are nearly four, and they send each other little video messages. Yeah.

David: Well, they're babies of the pandemic, so that's how they think everyone communicates.

Michael: Exactly.

Int1: Is then when you went on to do Staged together?

Michael: Yeah.

Int1 [to Zoe and Nicole]: Have you seen that?

Zoe: No.Wait a minute. What are you guys doing on stage right now? Like a tour or something?

David: No, no it's a show .

Michael: It was a TV series called Staged that we did over Zoom. So we could work from our own houses.

David: Yeah.

Michael: We've done three series.

Nicole: They're extremely clever.

Zoe: That's insane. I have to watch it.

Int2: Now, Michael, apparently you turned down the opportunity to play David's character. Arguably got a better wardrobe. Is it something that you're regretting right now?

Michael: He gets all the best clothes. No. Neil Gaiman, who wrote the book that it's based on with Terry Pratchett. I've been friends with Neil for years, and so when we first started talking about the project yeah. We sort of both kind of, for some reason, assumed that I would play this one character, and then as he started writing the scripts, I was like, that's not the character. I'm not going to play that. So I felt kind of bad about saying that to Neil, and Neil was sort of feeling, because he was thinking thesame thing, feeling bad about saying it to me. So it all came out and then eventually it made way for the Tennant to emerge.

Int1: And he came in his lovely outfit.

Michael: Yeah. And his slinky hips.

...

Int2: David.You're returning to Doctor Who. We had Catherine Tate on a couple of weeks ago.

David: Oh, yes.

Int2: o we spoke to her about it all. Now, she said it was like slipping back into a comfy pair of slippers. Was it the same for you?

David: Yeah. I mean, 15 years is quite a long time. And you do worry you won't be able to runf ast enough anymore, but...

Int1: Is it 15 years ago?

David: 15 years.

Int1: It's not, David, it can't be.

David: You're a lot older than you think you are.

Michael: I was only five when... I remember the David Tennant. I was just a little nipper.

Int2: On the Doctor Who subject. Watching... that's what inspired yo uas a child, wasn't it? Watching Doctor Who.

David: Yeah.

...

Int2: Good Omens Series Two on the 28 July on Prime Video and you can catch all three series of stage on IPlayer.

...

Int1: Let's say Nadoli Llawen.

Nicole: Yeah. [Tries]

Int1: Nadoli Llawen. Merry Christmas in Welsh.

Michael: Very good.

Int1: Michael, you can verify this. I mean, even the both of us are from South Wales, and even within 20 minutes car Journey, there'll be different dialects...

Michael: Within streets! Streets! Yeah, you can tell where someone comes from, which end of town people come from. [to Int1] I know which end of town you come from.

Int1: Say no more.

Michael: It's always been very clear, Alex.

Int1: Always very clear.

[scoutswritingcorner]

i got two things; would u ever add more characters to the helluva boss list??

second thing was my request lol :3

can i get a blitzø x gn!sinner!reader headcanons where reader is so down on their luck that they are applying to randoms jobs and the only one that got back to them was I.M.P lol and the slow progression of their relationship to becoming lovers :D

Pure Luck Or Dumb Luck?

Blitzø x GN!Reader

TW: FLUFF- A mention of a little nsfw but nothing explicit

A/n: Blitz! Our favorite Boss! And to answer your question, yes I will! I’m just writing out for the gang first so I can get used to writing for the characters before I move onto other characters!

Let me set the scene:

You recently had been fired from your last job for punching a customer who had been harassing you lately. It was well deserved but it had landed you in the unemployment category of working. So you applied to every single work ad you could get your hands on. They all rejected you except for one that had been the infamous, I.M.P! Maybe not so infamous..but they do amazing jobs, you’ve heard and you got an interview to go to THE NEXT DAY?!?!?

-🐴 Well fast forward- you do land the interview but depending if you know how to kill or shoot a gun depends if you need training. By training I mean going out in the human world and killing to get you over your nerves. Blitz is strict but fair with this. If you want to be out on the field, you have to kill. If not he can let you be the receptionist with Loona or the janitor! They need one badly- dried blood is hard to get out of the wooden floors and carpets.

-🐴Now! If you do need training, he’s gonna send Millie and Moxxie with you, the sweetest people to help and can validate your feelings on taking a life. Moxxie understands the hesitation.

-🐴 Blitz isn’t stupid (he can be but shh), he knows a good killer when he sees one (and a hottie). Now he won’t hold your hand during missions especially if you can handle yourself but if you still got some jitters in you about killing? He’ll give you an easy target to kill.

-🐴After a few months into the job? He starts to become friendlier with you, like instead of sending you out to get coffee? He asks if you want coffee and then asks if you can go get it cause he’s out of money. He’ll pay you back! (I mean at least he’s asking instead of yelling at you to go get it)

-🐴I swear he does become nicer over time but it takes so long cause he has trust issues. 

-🐴 But once you do become his friend or best friend as he puts it, oh boy he’s clinging to you and not letting go. You get so many privileges that no one else does and it's a blessing but a curse. Cause you get to know what he’s thinking all the time and then he tells you all of his horses names.

-🐴You start catching feelings for him and realize it at midnight when your alone in your bed. Your feelings go from “oh fuck-” to “I’d bang him” IN SECONDS- The whiplash is real.

-🐴Blitzo? Falls harder and he only realizes it when you bring him to a horse show and he’s watching you instead of the horses. But what really solidifies it for him? Is when you're able to talk your way into allowing Blitzo to ride and take pictures with the horses. 

-🐴 He won’t shut up about you when your not in the office, like you’d leave to go pick up lunch for everyone and as soon as you walk out the door. “Have you noticed how hot they are?” “Sir-”

-🐴Millie ships it so fucking hard. But because he doesn’t want to admit it and you probably think he won’t reciprocate your feelings, it’s a whole dance for a LONG time. Moxxie is about to rip his fucking hair out- while initially he didn’t care for it much- he’s as much as invested as his wife is. JUST FUCKING KISS PLEASE- 

-🐴 Loona is in on it too but she has a betting pool going with Millie. She’s either gonna be fifty bucks richer or out of fifty bucks. 

-🐴Either way it will be a long ass time before you end up pulling him into a kiss one night. Maybe you both were at your place watching a movie or you were out on the town with him and he’s walking you back to your apartment. 

-🐴 It ends up with you waking up in the morning curled up in your bed with your head on his bare chest. You abruptly wake him up by shaking him awake and staring at him cause you just slept with your best friend who is also your boss??

-🐴 this ends up with a huge talk and you both realize your feelings are mutual and POOF you’re dating.

-🐴This silly little Imp loves kisses and going on fun but not expensive dates! That doesn’t mean he won’t spoil the shit out of you cause he will! But he likes it when you are both relaxed and having fun.

-🐴Now he tries to keep your relationship out of work (despite working together) but he swoons or cheers you on if you get a kill or you are just being protective. His tail curls into a little heart.

-🐴 Wear his clothes if you can- especially his leather jacket it makes him puff his chest out in pride. He will wear your clothes, especially your shirts when he goes to bed or if you have a break!

-🐴Oh boy! He’s a jealous little imp! Not because he doesn’t trust you, it's because he doesn't think highly of himself and will often try to push you away. Don’t let that scare you, just hug him close.

[bellaxgiornata]

Falling For the Devil [Part ninety-two: "The Recurring Nightmare"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: You wake from a from a nightmare in the middle of the night.

Or You finally confide a growing fear of yours to Matt.

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock. You can find the entire list of installments here.]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut, violence

a/n: I can't believe it took so long for us to get an update, but hopefully y'all enjoy this angsty one. Just a heads up, there is a bit of violent imagery in the beginning scene. Who's up for some Second Angst Arc foreshadowing? Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag List: @ninacotte @mattkinsella @stilldreaming666 @murdocksclient @madscamp02 @1988-fiend @linamarr @pinkratts @schneeflocky @acharliecoxedfan @yarrystyleeza @theetherealbloom @danzer8705 @lionalsowrites @harperdoodle @kmc1989 @lunaticgurly @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @pazii @kezibear

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you squeezed your eyes shut in hopes of blocking out the fluorescent lights that were adding to the pain of your growing headache. Each ding of the elevator as it began to ascend to the top floor of the apartment building only caused the ache to pound harder. 

You'd had a shitty day at the office today working on an article for The Bulletin. You'd spent all afternoon struggling with forming an ending that didn't sound ridiculous and make even you want to gag. And it was all because of Jessica Manning. She'd shown up to work the same story you were, interviewing some of the same people you'd worked hard to get in contact with. On top of that, she had successfully managed to get in your head yet again, making you feel insecure and incompetent when it came to your investigative and writing abilities. 

And of course, as if that wasn't already enough, she'd managed to insult you while making you feel insecure in your relationship with Matt. 

The final ding indicating the elevator had reached the top floor broke through your thoughts and your eyes flew open. Lowering your hand from your nose and back to your side, you stepped off the elevator and began trudging your way down the hallway. As you made your way to the end of it, your hand felt around inside your purse for your keys to the apartment while you tried hard to block out Jessica's voice repeating her insults in your head over and over. Instead, you attempted to picture punching her in the face–as per Katy's suggestion.

Though by the time you'd reached the apartment and fished your keys out of your purse, your stomach was twisting into knots and you felt like crying. It was going to be hard to pretend you were alright when Matt came home from work. And then if you failed at it–which you most likely would with his super senses–he'd find some way to blame himself. Because he always tried to take on all the guilt, blaming himself for your own insecurities when he'd done nothing wrong. 

And that only had you feeling worse. You didn't want to worry Matt. You knew he'd had enough going on with how busy he'd been as Daredevil lately. Your silly little problems didn't even measure up to what he needed to focus on.

No, you'd just have to work on getting over it and getting Jessica's stupid voice out of your head on your own. 

As you slid your key into the lock on the apartment door, you quickly realized the door was already unlocked. For a second you paused, brows knitting together in brief confusion. But then you realized Matt must’ve finished at the office before you had finished at work today. It didn't happen often, but sometimes they had a pretty uneventful day at the firm and Matt would surprise you at home with dinner.

Your stomach twisted tighter into a knot. You thought you'd at least have a half an hour to try to mentally prepare yourself to face him after your encounter with Jessica. But now you'd have to somehow pull yourself together in a matter of seconds so his senses wouldn't pick up on anything. Though truthfully, he'd probably already noticed you and your off mood the moment you'd entered the building with his heightened senses. 

With a heavy sigh, you turned the handle and pushed the door open. You stepped inside, prepared to hear Matt call out and greet you like he usually did whenever you returned home when he was here, but he didn't. Frowning, you turned to shut the door after yourself, wondering where he was–but you stopped when you heard hushed voices.

Eyes narrowing, you tried to focus on the sound coming from down the hall. It sounded like the voices were coming from the living room, but you didn't recognize either of them. Immediately your heart began to beat faster in your chest, your nerves over talking to Matt about your insecurities quickly switching to fear of someone dangerous being inside the apartment.

“...not gonna be causing any problems for us much longer.”

Cautiously you began to make your way down the short entryway hall, walking as quietly as possible on the front part of your feet. You were positive you'd stopped breathing with every step closer that you took towards the voices, your palms beginning to sweat as your hand began to fiddle with your keychain blindly in search of your pepper spray. 

When you finally rounded the corner, you almost dropped your keys entirely. You couldn't completely contain the pained noise that slipped out of your lips at the sight of Matt crumpled in half on one of the dining chairs. The crisp white dress shirt he'd dressed into this morning–the very same one you'd buttoned for him while he flirtatiously teased you in return–was now a rumpled mess stained with bright red spots all over it.

Matt's blood.

“Oh well now, lookie what we have here Mr. Big Shot Vigilante Lawyer!” one of the men called out as he spotted you standing in the entryway. The gun in his hand swung towards you as he continued. “This must be your girl, huh? Guess we're getting two for the price of one today!”

Fear had you frozen to the spot, your eyes shifting from the gun to Matt as his head slowly rose. You audibly gasped at the sight of him, a hand flying up to cover your mouth as tears began to burn at your eyes. His face was battered and bloody, half of it swollen from whatever these men had done to him before you'd shown up. There was blood caked over the entire right side of his face–some dried but most of it glistening bright red in the light. Despite the mess they'd made of his face, you could still see the terror written plain on it as he focused on you across the room.

“Get out!” he warned you, his voice garbled as if his mouth was full of blood. “Go!”

“Matt,” you whispered just loud enough for his ears, shaking your head as the tears began to cloud your vision. “I can't. Can't just leave you.”

His face twisted painfully into a look of sheer despair at your words. 

“What's that she's got in her hand?” the second man called out, taking a step towards you. A loud laugh burst out of him a second later, recognition dawning on his face. He pointed a finger at you as he exclaimed, “She's got pepper spray! Oh, buddy, what's your girl think she's gonna do with pepper spray ?”

You winced as the harsh sound of his laughter once again echoed around the apartment, your hand gripping the canister of pepper spray tighter in your sweaty grasp. Though desperately you wished you had another way to fight them off–an actual weapon, super strength, laser eyes, fucking anything more than the damn pepper spray Matt always insisted you carry. Because what good would it do you right now? You were helpless. Weak. Normal. There was absolutely nothing you could do to save Matt. 

It was that realization which finally had the tears begin to fall.

“That's right, girl,” the first man said, clearly pleased. “Your little superhero ninja boy here can't save you now. He can't even save himself. And there's not a goddamn thing you can do about it.”

“Get outta here!” Matt's slurred voice urged again.

The first man glanced at the second before gesturing his head towards Matt. You stood there still rooted to the spot, scanning the room for anything at all you could use to help him. There was absolutely no way you were about to just turn and run out of here, leaving Matt to surely die at these men's hands. You couldn't possibly do that.

But there wasn't much you could do, either.

In helpless horror you watched as the second man raised the gun in his hand high into the air, moving in what almost felt like slow motion. With a savage force, he swung the butt of it towards Matt's face just as Matt opened his mouth one last time. 

“RUN!” 

Eyes flying wide open in a panic, you were met with nothing but darkness around you. Breathing hard, you tried to place where you were as your eyes darted frantically around the blackness. Your heart was wildly slamming into your ribcage, pounding so violently you swore you could hear your blood pounding in your own ears. 

It took your brain a moment to realize that you were just laying in bed, your body covered in a slight sheen of cold sweat beneath the silk sheets. The familiar and comforting weight of Matt asleep on the bed beside you registered next, his presence almost instantly calming you. Outside of the bedroom windows you heard the faint hum of the mostly asleep city down below, your eyes gradually adjusting to the bit of light from the obnoxious billboard across the street that still filtered in behind the blackout curtains. 

You'd had a nightmare. The same one you'd been having for two weeks now.

Your hands slipped out from beneath the soft sheets as you carefully tried to sit up, desperately attempting to avoid disturbing Matt. You hadn't wanted to bother him any of the times you'd woken from this dream before, embarrassed that it had kept repeatedly bothering you. 

Raising a hand, you ran it across your damp forehead, still trying to orient yourself in the bedroom. A small, dark shape was curled at the end of the bed–Mittens, fast asleep. Trying to take slow, deep breaths, you continued to focus on the safe, familiar space around you. The sound of Matt's faint exhales nearby, the slight patter of rain hitting the windows, the distant sound of a car horn.

This was real.

Movement beside you on the bed caught your attention, your head turning over your shoulder. You heard the rustling of sheets and a frown settled onto your face. You'd been hoping not to bother him, having somehow managed it every other night that you'd had this dream. Though you figured your luck would eventually run out and you'd be forced to discuss this all with him at some point. Because it was Matt and whenever anything was bothering you, he didn't stop digging until he knew exactly what was on your mind.

“Sweetheart?” his sleep-laden voice called through the darkness. 

Your eyelids lowered, well aware he was going to pick up on everything your body was doing now that he was awake. The panicked and alert tone of his voice when he spoke again only proved you right.

“Sweetheart, is everything alright?” he asked. “What's wrong?”

Matt began to quickly push himself upright on the bed beside you, tossing the sheets off of himself in a rush. You shook your head gently, still trying to calm your body despite your unease at the impending conversation. Even though you hadn't meant to wake him, you figured it was no surprise that he had caught onto your distress even in his sleep with how much of a bodily reaction you'd had to the nightmare this time around. It was more of a surprise that you'd never woken him the other nights, honestly. 

“Everything is fine, Matt,” you assured him, still feeling the rapid beating of your heart pounding in your throat. “I'm fine.”

“Your heart is racing,” he pointed out, placing a gentle, comforting hand on your shoulder. “Your blood pressure is elevated and your body feels like it's in a state of panic. What's going on? Did something happen?”

“I just…had a nightmare,” you awkwardly admitted. “That's all.”

“A nightmare?” he asked, confused.

You sighed, rubbing a hand across your forehead again. “Yeah. I've been having the same one for the past couple of weeks,” you confessed. “Ever since…you came home that night. Injured.”

There was a bit of a pause that followed your admission. The air felt suddenly heavier and colder in the dark.

“How come you've never mentioned the nightmares before?” he questioned carefully.

“Because I didn't want to worry you,” you answered. 

Matt's arm slowly slid its way across your back as he draped it around you. Gradually he drew you into his bare chest and you turned, burying your face into the inviting warmth of his skin. He smelled like sweat and the leather-like material from his Daredevil suit. Your favorite smell.

“What's on your mind, sweetheart?” he whispered, a sadness barely hidden in his tone. “And why haven't you said anything to me?”

You shrugged lightly as his other arm wrapped around you, tugging you into a tight embrace. Eventually your own arms carefully wrapped around his waist, your cheek resting against his chest as you drew yourself in closer to him.

“Because it's stupid,” you muttered. “And you've got enough on your mind.”

“Hey,” Matt said firmly, his arms squeezing you briefly, “nothing that's bothering you is stupid. So why don't you tell me what this nightmare is about?”

The image of Matt battered and beaten, helpless and terrified in one of the dining room chairs, flashed through your mind. Your eyes snapped shut instantly, but the image of him so horribly injured was already seared into your mind. Gritting your teeth together, you turned your face and buried it firmly into Matt's chest. Your fingers dug into the muscles along his back, fearful of that mental image becoming a reality. 

“Sweetheart?” Matt prompted gently. 

Swallowing the lump forming in your throat, you knew you'd have to tell him. He'd only pry harder the more you tried to avoid answering.

“It's always me coming home from a bad day at work,” you began quietly, face still buried into his chest, “before I realize you're home already. Before me. But there's–there's always these two other men here with you.”

You felt Matt immediately stiffen against you, his body going rigid as his arms firmly held you to himself. But he remained silent, waiting for you to continue. 

“They have guns,” you whispered, a tremor in your voice as wetness dampened your closed lashes. “And you're–you're beaten and covered in blood when I show up. Unable to even fight back, not even in your suit. Then you always tell me to run but I–” 

Your words broke off as you shook your head firmly against his chest. The thought of just leaving him there to die, even in your dreams, was too painful to even imagine. Your heart squirmed in your chest at the very idea of it. And the pain and fear written on his face each time he realizes you won’t leave, knowing what that means for you, only has your heart feeling like it's being crushed in your chest even now.

“I can't–I can't just leave you like that,” you choke out. “But there's nothing I can actually do to help, either.” A sob escaped you, briefly cutting you off before your next words fly out in a rush. “Because all I have is a fucking useless can of pepper spray to fend them off with. Nothing more.”

Matt's hands immediately began to rub soothing patterns along your back, his mouth lowering beside your ear. “Hey, shh, it's okay,” he whispered. “It's okay, it was just a bad dream, that's all.”

You shook your head, tears still pouring down your cheeks. “I know, but it still has me scared, Matt,” you whispered. “Scared of something happening.”

Something like a defeated sigh mixed with a pained groan fell out of him, his mouth still beside your ear. You could feel your chest constrict at the terribly sad noise alone. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry. This is all because of me. Because I fucked up all those months ago,” he told you, guilt coating his words. “Because I fucked up and your connection to me–to Daredevil–was discovered. And you were hurt because of me. And now–now you’re terrified of it happening again and it’s–” he paused, exhaling a shuddering breath. “It’s all my fault.”

Before you could even react or respond, his hands were frantically on your face, drawing it away from his chest and turning it up towards his. Even in the dark you could tell there were tears in his eyes. You could hear the emotion in the faint quiver of his voice as he pressed on.

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry I failed you before,” he earnestly apologized. “But I swear to you, I will never let that happen again. No one will ever hurt you. Not again. I won’t let them. So you don’t have to worry about that. Do you understand? I would tear apart this whole city to keep you safe if I had to.”

The tears only spilled faster from your eyes. Not because of the passion and truth you could hear in his words, but because that wasn't it . That wasn't what was bothering you, not fully. Of course you were afraid of ever encountering a situation again where you ended up in danger or injured–or worse–after what had happened to you before, but what was really bothering you was the danger Matt could find himself in. Or rather, the danger he could find himself in and the fact that you were nothing like him. There was nothing special about you that would help you keep him safe in return. 

You were just…you.

Slowly you shook your head, your eyes still focused on what you could make out of his face in the dark. Very minutely, you saw him tilt his head to the side as if in confusion.

“I know you would, Matty,” you whispered. “But that’s not it.”

“What–what do you mean?” he asked, sounding almost nervous. “What do you mean that’s not it?”

Licking your lips, you tried hard not to feel so incredibly foolish for what you were about to admit. A fear that had been steadily growing in your mind over the past few months.

“I mean, I’m afraid of something happening to you, Matt,” you told him. “That you won’t come home to me some night. Or that you’ll find yourself in a situation you can’t get out of. Or someone will break into our apartment and hurt you. Because what could I do? What could I possibly do to help you? I don’t have special abilities and I can’t even fight. I know basic self-defense, Matt.” You grimaced, as you admitted, “I’m useless. Weak.”

“What?” Matt asked in shock. “Sweetheart, no. You’re not useless, not at all. But you don’t need to have any abilities and you don’t need to be able to fight off the bad guys. That isn’t something you ever need to be concerned with.” His hands slid up from where they’d been resting on your back, firmly grasping your shoulders as he lowered his face towards yours. “I don’t want you to be concerned with that. Because I can take care of myself. It’s not your responsibility to look after me or protect me, alright? I’ll be fine.”

You shook your head, tears still stinging at your eyes. “You can’t promise that, Matt.”

“Okay, no, you’re right,” he amended. “I can’t exactly promise that, but you know I will always do everything in my power to make it back home to you every night. You know I’ve stopped pushing myself too hard and too far because I love you. Because I don’t want you to worry about me. So you don’t need to worry. I know my limits.”

Matt wrapped his arms around your shoulders again, pulling you back into himself in a crushingly tight embrace. You sniffled, once again burying your face back into his bare skin in search of comfort as your fingers dug into his back, holding him tight. Matt’s lips placed a handful of kisses onto the top of your head before he buried his face into your hair.

“It’s my job to look out for you, not the other way around,” he whispered. “Okay? Leave the worrying of that to me.”

Eyes falling closed, you tried hard to fight the tears threatening to spill forth once again. Instead, you tried to focus on the comforting scent of him, your teeth biting into your lower lip to keep it from trembling. 

“Okay,” you breathed out.

“Okay,” he replied, relief in his tone. “Okay, good. Because I’ll keep us both safe. Alright?”

Biting down harder on your bottom lip, all you could manage was a nod in response. But as Matt cradled you in his arms, your own wrapped around him in a desperate vice, you could still see that image of him battered and bloodied in your mind. It lingered there, haunting you.

[my-rose-tinted-glasses]

Intouchables and Last Twilight

So, when I was first watching the Last Twilight episode, something was bugging me about the choice of having Day in a wheelchair. Because it was a choice. And as I kept watching it, I kept feeling like I was missing something. My memory is terribly slow with these things, so it wasn't until I went back that I got it. Intouchables. So now, for some context. Intouchables is a french film from 2011 that tells the story of a french rich businessman that, after becoming quadriplegic from a paragliding accident, hires a young black man to be his carer. This is based on a true story. (Yes, there is an american version, but I haven't seen it so I can't speak to it.) If you've never watched this movie, go watch it, cause for sure Aof has watched it.

You can probably already see the parallels just from this small synopses. I'm gonna say too much about the movie, I'm just gonna talk about the similarities so far.

So we got our two main characters. Philippe and Driss. Philippe is our basic older rich white guy, with the palatial mansion and a hundred people servicing his every need. Also he's quadriplegic. Driss is the opposite side of all of this. He is poor, he lives off of unemployment benefits, his house is small and cramped, shared with family. So, Driss needs to look for a job to get the benefits, but he doesn't actually want the job. He just needs to show that he's looking for one. All he needs is a signature. Anyway... So he goes for an interview.

I think you can spot Driss.

While he's waiting for the interview, we see the other man being interviewed.

.

And at some point he's had enough.

.

And he simply bursts into the room.

.

I mean, one is a palatial living room, and the other is basically an office but you the picture. This next part in the film is slightly different in the show, because Driss is not even phased by the vision of the man in the wheelchair. He's much more interested in Magalie, the secretary, but we couldn't have that in our bl.

.

After this, the similarities continue. Because both Driss and Mork don't want the job, but both Philippe and Day are intrigued by this guy that just walked in and that doesn't seem to be interested in the actual job. Also because both Driss and Mork don't really act like what Philippe and Day are used to people acting around them.

[I beg of you. Even if you don't watch the film, just watch the interview bit. Because it's brilliant. Driss is brilliant] So Driss eventually leaves, to return another day for the signed paper. And Mork just leaves. And the next scenes are basically the same, we're shown the circumstances that will eventually lead them both to want the job. There are other parallels between Driss and Mork, and their circumstances and environment, the smoking and the drinking, the fighting... But for now this is it. I'll be re-watching the film this weekend so I might have some other thoughts but I wanted to get this out. I don't know if the show will continue to parallel the film, so I'm not going to say anymore about it. But I'm keeping this is mind for the next episode, because from the previews I have a feeling this is gonna continue. Also, I adore this film and everyone should watch it.

[oneforthemunny]

Hey! Just wanted to ask (sorry if you’ve answered this before), do nepo baby or rockstar!eddie ever let it slip that they actually hated each other before, lol?

Because if they did, I feel like it’ll be through Vega and her obsessive use of TikTok, lmao! She’d just be, like, “oh, yeah, my parents totally hated each other before they got together. I could have not been brought into this world guys!” And everyone is shocked, because the public has only ever known of them after their engagement.

they definitely tell it lol.

in their little docuseries they do when the kids are older and he’s retired, is really when they go into detail. before it was kinda like “uh she wasn’t very impressed by me but gareth and farrah were dating so it kinda happened” is the story they went with (that had MAJOR holes in it lol).

but when they get the chance to really talk about it on screen i, in my mentally ill mind, picture it being like this:

let me set the scene. eddie and nb, older, on screen. he in his home ‘office’ recording studio, her in the living room of their house with a gallery wall of photos of their family behind her.

interviewer, off screen: so, everyone wants to know- how did you two meet?

eddie: well, we met at a bar.

cuts to nb’s scene.

nb: we met at a bar. farrah and i went out and he and his band mates all walked in. they came up to us at the bar-

cuts back to eddie.

eddie: i saw her, and i was like holy shit, ya know? i thought she was the prettiest fucking person I’d ever seen. so i went up to her and tried to buy her a drink, and she told me to pretty much fuck off.

laughing off camera. eddie’s blushing, shrugging. cuts back to nb.

interviewer: we heard you were… less than impressed with eddie when you met him?

nb: oh, i couldn’t stand him. i thought he was so egotistical, just arrogant and audacious.

cuts back to eddie.

eddie: she did not like me at all. and honestly, after our first conversation, i didn’t like her either. thought she was full of herself, pretentious… still very hot, but not nice.

they’d both go into detail about how much they hated each other, could barely stand to be around each other, the publicity stunts that appeared so obvious now that the world had no idea about (nb and his rival, eddie and her ‘friends’). they don’t graphically describe the hooking up, but it’s alluded to.

i really think it would just shock the world how much they hated each other and then are so in love. definitely think it would revive the younger generation who would find it so funny.

i think vega, the menace, would find out from the internet that there is a song written about nb by the rival guys band sorta directed at eddie. once she finds that information out, there’s no knowing peace.

[alotofpockets]

Private not secret | Elizabeth Olsen

Pairing: Elizabeth Olsen x Reader

Summary: You and Lizzie are both part of the MCU and attend a panel together, what happens when an interviewer tries to press Lizzie to talk about the ring she's wearing when you're keeping your relationship private from the public? A/n: This interview gave me inspiration for the ring part.

Masterlist | Marvel masterlist | Words: 1k

From the moment you first laid eyes on Elizabeth Olsen at the table read for Captain America: The Winter Soldier you knew she was going to be someone special in your life. As you expected the two of you grew close quickly and eventually started dating. It’s been ten years since that table read and she has become the most important person in your life. With both of your celebrity statuses, the conversation of privacy had come up pretty quickly. You had each voiced not wanting to have your relationship to be public, your relationship wasn’t a secret, you just preferred it to be private. 

As you were checking out the outfit you picked out for Marvel Con in the mirror, Lizzie walked up behind you. She snaked her hands around your waist and rested her head on your shoulder. She admired you in the mirror, “You look so beautiful, baby.” You smile at her compliment, she always knew how to boost your confidence. “Thank you, darling, you look amazing yourself.” Lizzie held one of her hands out in front of her, “I don’t want to take it off, how would you feel if I kept it on?” You lace your fingers with hers and kiss the ring on her finger. You admired the ring you had picked out for her many months ago, the ring you had chosen to ask her to marry you with last week. “Yeah, I’m good with you keeping it on. Are you ready to go?”

The convention was so much fun, you met back up with so many friends and coworkers. It was rare that you were all together besides filming, as there were so many of you. You also got to meet a lot of fans, take pictures, hear their stories, and admire the art they made. You were on a few panels, most were without Lizzie, while Lizzie had her own panels, like the WandaVison panel with Paul Bettany. To close off the convention there was one last big panel for CA:TWS, there was one big couch and an armchair, for the six of you. The interviewer welcomed everyone to the stage, “Welcome everybody to the last panel of the day, give it up for Scarlett Johansson, Chris Evans, Sebastian Stan, Anthony Mackie, Elizabeth Olsen and Y/n Y/l/n!” The crowd cheered and the first four sat down on the couch, making it full. You and Lizzie look at the armchair which isn’t exactly big enough for two people and laugh, you tell Lizzie to take it and sit down on the armrest yourself. The interviewer offered up her chair, but you assured her that it was all good.

“Thank you all so much for joining us, the ten year anniversary of Captain America: The Winter Soldier is coming up, Chris, how does that feel?” Chris takes one of the mics, “It’s so crazy to think that ten years ago we started filming the first movie of the MCU. I’m so thankful for being able to play this character and how much we’ve got to expand this universe to the big screen and introduce all these new heroes. Yeah, it’s been great.” The interviewer says it’s time for a question from the audience, you turn to face the person standing at the mics and all say hello. “Hi, I’m Ryan, and I have a question for y/n, what is your favorite memory from filming the movie?” Lizzie hands you the mic she was holding, you smile at her and thank her. “Oh, that’s a good question! I have so many good memories from that movie.” Your eyes move over to Lizzie for a moment only to see that she was already looking at you, you smile and focus back on the crowd. “I think I’m gonna have to go with the fight scene where we’re running through an office. So, papers had to be flying off of desks and the amount of times they had to be picked up to be able to shoot the scene again was just so funny.” 

Another fan comes up to the stand, “Hello, my name is Ellie, and my question is for Elizabeth. You’ve spoken a bit about your anxiety and I was just wondering how you manage to keep that under control with big crowds like this.” You hand the mic back to Lizzie, “First off I want to emphasize how important it is for me to talk about subjects like these, so thank you very much for your question, Ellie. “Secondly, for me, having people around me that make me feel safe is very important.” Lizzie places a hand on your knee. “For instance, I know that if I were to start feeling overwhelmed, y/n would notice and help me stay grounded.” 

The interviewer continues after all the fan questions are answered. “So, Elizabeth, I noticed a pretty ring on your finger.” Lizzie looks down at her hand, “Yeah, it’s beautiful right. it’s a cocktail ring, my fancy ring.” The interviewer presses on, “Is it a cocktail ring though?” You want to step in and tell the interviewer she should stop pressuring Lizzie, but before you can speak up Scarlett does. “Before we have to go, I’d like to ask you all a question. I would love it if we could take a big group picture, would you be up for that?” The crowd cheers. You all kneel down at the edge of the stage so that everyone fits in the picture. “Thank you.” You whisper to Scarlett as you move back to your seats. 

Once the panel is over you head to your backstage room with Lizzie. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything to the lady.” Lizzie grabs your hand in hers, “You’re all good. That would probably have been more suspicious than how Scar handled it. Let’s just enjoy the rest of our night. “You’re right.” You share a sweet kiss before heading over to your friends.

[kaizsche]

in my dreams, you love me back

a starlight/homelander fic set during s3e06, a missing scene (kind of) inspired by red velvet's in my dreams.

warning: delusions. angst. more delusions and more angst.

note: thank you thank you thank you so much to DelightfullySad and @finnismyoriginalsin for being the numero uno numba one enabler. if it weren't for them i wouldn't be here writing for starlander. i owe them my life. period.

crossposted on ao3

He felt the absence of her presence like a phantom limb. 

They have been inseparable the past few weeks. Ashley had coordinated their schedules to accommodate their PR relationship stunt. Where he went, Starlight naturally followed. Silly interviews about their relationship and public appearances were staged. 

He even began to enjoy her company despite her corpse-like enthusiasm. The moment he realized this, he began seeking more of her. His lips lingered long after their perfunctory kisses and his hands, he found, if not at the small of her back, were either wrapped around her waist or intertwined with the softness of her hands.

There was an odd moment of embarrassment but also smug satisfaction when a reporter wrote an article about them. How sweet! Homelander can’t keep his hands off his girl!

John supposed his recent business venture as the new CEO of Vought made him forget about everything else. He was lost in the technicalities and in turn had lost sight of what was important. 

Starlight. Annie.

To make matters worse, Soldier Boy rose from the dead, his appearance a cause for immediate concern. Nobody at this moment would be able to make the connection that Soldier Boy was behind all the explosions but the instant someone did would be ruining everything he worked hard for. 

Before that could happen, he needed to kill Soldier Boy. Fast. 

That was when he remembered. 

“Don’t you think that maybe the best way to handle this is to find him?”

If there was anyone who had information about Soldier Boy, it was Annie. Though, if it had been a day since she hadn’t reported back to him on the matter, maybe she wasn’t better off.

Her apartment was empty, much to his confusion. He was under the impression that she was scheduled to shoot an advertisement for a skincare company and yet her costume sat idling inside her walk-in-closet. 

For a moment, his traitorous mind entertained her connection to Soldier Boy’s reemergence. 

What did you expect, you fucking idiot! A distant voice in his mind screamed for attention. You killed her ex, you think she wouldn’t retaliate?

John whimpered, But she did it first. 

Just shut the fuck up and let me think.

He spied his gleaming reflection off a white telephone and dialed Ashley’s office.

She answered on the first ring. “Starlight? Where the fuck are you—”

“Where’s Starlight?” He questioned, ignoring the sudden spike of her heartbeat at the sound of his voice echoing from Starlight’s telephone. In Starlight’s room.

Ashley answered with a long suffering sigh, “I don’t know, Sir. She just took off without informing anybody.”

He drummed his fingers in silent contemplation, his eyes taken to examining every intimate detail of her room and stopped, glaring lasers at the offending image positioned right next to her bed.

“Alright. Call me when she comes in.”

He left the comfort of her room not before accidentally bumping into her framed picture with Hughie.

You’re acting like a spoiled brat. 

John dismissed the voice as he retreated to his quarters. It continued to whisper nasty things in his ear that Annie was likely an accomplice. He knew how much Butcher and his skinny side-kick Hughie (who happened to be her boyfriend) detested him. John wouldn’t put it past them to summon Soldier Boy in an attempt to level the playing field.

The voice grew louder, snapping insults in his ear about his weakness—that he had too much humanity in him. That it was disgusting and he was absolutely embarrassed to be him. 

He grabbed for the remote blindly in an effort to distract himself. 

“...he children had all signed a letter thanking Starlight and Homelander for their generous donation to the hospital. Starlight met with patients with kidney failure whose lives were dependent on machines. They are on dialysis three times a week for four hours — until they can have a transplant. The process, however, takes years because of a shortage of donors.”

Annie sat cross legged, surrounded by children. She held a children’s book in her hand, reading to them in silly voices. Different camera shots of children bursting into laughter at her antics flashed through the screen, some of it even catching teary-eyed parents. 

The scene changed. Annie was speaking to a kid with sunshine locks and blue eyes. 

“Dominic for instance has been…”

A lump formed in his throat at the sight of her arms around the boy. The screen transitioned to another shot of Annie cradling him in her arms like a babe as she spoke with a doctor. 

What the fuck? Get your shit together, man!

He closed his eyes, lost in the image of Annie and the boy.

John you fucking halfwit! Get back here! I’m not done with you yet! JOHN! YOU MOTHERFUCKER—

He stirred to the faint sensation of being rocked to consciousness. 

“Dad!” The voice screamed. “Wake up! I’m going to be late for my recital!”

John stuffed his head deeper in the sinking softness of his pillows. A hand snatched it out of his chin, his forehead making contact with the headboard in a loud bang.

“Wha…” A woman mumbled beside him. 

“The fuck?!” He exclaimed.

“Mooooommm! Dad said a swear word!” Before he could recover from the damage upon his forehead, there was another blow to his head—too soft to ever bruise him but a hit that took him off guard.

He rose to meet the attacker, the heat of his lasers igniting the low rage simmering within him. 

And stopped at the peculiar yet welcome sight of Annie’s bed head and her legs tangled in cream sheets. A smaller figure dressed in pajamas blocked his figure, meeting his rage with a smug smirk so reminiscent of his own. 

“Pay up!”

He blinked. His throat was so dry he was simply unable to respond. Bewildered, he sought Annie’s help. 

She frowned, but complied nonetheless. Annie laid a hand on the girl’s shoulder, her voice raspy in the quiet morning. 

He was unable to follow their conversation for he had been occupied with the room he seemed to have been sleeping in. It was a modest bedroom, he noted, filled with mementos. There was a compilation of images of his unlived life with Annie.

His temple throbbed with the effort of remembering. A continuous ringing occupied his hearing the more he examined each picture. Memories flickered in his mind like sifting sand through a screen.

What is reality and what is not?

At the center of the images was a baby girl swaddled in his colors. 

Something itched at the back of his head, a memory long forgotten.

“Wendy?” He tested.

His daughter faced him with a beaming smile, her lips thinly pursed like his own but she had her mother’s nose. 

“Are you—”

John tackled the two of them in a tight hug, dotting kisses to whatever part of their faces he could reach. Twin echoes of shrill laughter brightened the morning as they struggled against his sudden display of affection.

“Dad, stop! It tickles!” His daughter cried, short of breath. 

He pulled away, reluctant to not be within her presence but remembered the urgency of the situation. “Chop chop, ladies! We don’t want to be late for the recital!” 

Annie smiled at him with a question in her eyes once Wendy left to go prepare for the big day. 

“What was that all about?” 

He leaned to press a gentle kiss against her lips but moved to her cheek at the last second. Somehow he knew she didn’t like to kiss with morning breath. 

“It was nothing.”

Her soft fingers gripped his wrist, “Are you sure?”

John chewed on the inside of his cheek in contemplation. Should he tell her the truth? That he wasn’t the man she married but a fraud? A momentary lapse of insanity to give peace to his troubled mind? But doing so would be akin to ruining the dream. 

John wasn’t quite sure he was ready to face the world just yet.

And so, he said, “I love you.”

“I love you t—”

His consciousness spoke to him in loud banging noises. Like what he did as a child when he begged for any scrap of attention. 

Welcome back, you fucking pussy. I’ve taken the liberty of actually getting our shit together. This’ll be the last time you do this to me. Do you hear me, you absolute piece of—

John heard her before he saw her. He had locked on to the gentle cadence of her heartbeat drowning all but the sound of her.

Annie sat down, sighed, and cleared her throat.

He moved without knowing, driven by the remains of his dreams, seeking her touch. The comfort, the soothing balm she alone could provide. 

“I’m really glad you’re here.” 

When all he wanted to say was, “I love you.”

He continued, driven by the questioning look in her eyes so reminiscent of the wife in his dreams. 

“I missed you.”

When he wanted to tell her, “In my dreams, you love me back.”

[t0mmy-bear]

Unsaid Goodbyes

Pronouns: He/Him; You

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Male reader

Genre: Angst. A lot of angst and some comfort

Warnings: Gore (depictions of torture)

Type: Fic

Omegaverse

Summary: The reader finds out he's pregnant during a case. He keeps it a secret as no one knows he is an omega. Unfortunately, the reader matches the MO of the unsub and ends up losing the baby.

for @xdark-acadamiax

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

It was a normal day at the office, a new case taking everyone's attention. You, however, were running late, a sickness forcing you to stay behind longer than necessary. You've had you suspicions, and had finally confirmed them. You were pregnant.

You finally made your way into the office, heading straight towards the debrief room. Everyone had already started on the case, looking at some photographs and files. You sat down and looked at the person closest to you: JJ. Asking for a quick debrief, you grabbed some of the files strewn across the table.

You sigh gently, the nausea and small pains not wearing down. Eventually, it was time to leave and go to Arizona. You tried to get comfortable on the plane, shifting around endlessly in your seat. The plane ride was as usual, final debriefs and predictions were being made as you only got more restless.

"You ok? Looks like you're a little restless right now," Derek all but whispered. You nodded, not really in the mood to talk as eyes were on you. "You know if you aren't feeling well you could've stayed at the office? Keep Garcia some company?" he continued. "I'm fine," you replied, somewhat annoyed.

You lean back into your seat as you listen to the voices around you. You look out the plane window, as you count down the hours to your landing. For some reason, you were very anxious about this case.

-Time Skip-

Derek was going over the profile over the unsub when one of the officers interrupted him. "Doesn't that agent there fit the uh... unsub's victims?" It went silent as your coworkers turned to look at you. You glanced between them nervously and saw Aaron shake his head a little.

The awkward silence lasted a few more seconds before Aaron broke the silence. "The unsub finds joy in torturing his victims and this torture lasts a long time. It's important to get this profile to the media, as he could easily be someone you know."

The police started to file out of the room as your friends came up to you. "Are you sure you want to be a part of this? He was right you know, these victims do have a lot of similarities to you," JJ whispered. You gave her a small smile and shook your head. "I'll be fine, JJ, thanks," You responded shakily. She looked at you wearily before giving you a firm nod.

You got back to work, occasionally glancing around at your teammates. You hoped they wouldn't become to protective over you. You shifted through the files, looking over the pictures to see if you missed anything. You looked at the way they were positioned, the way the grass laid, and even the way the trees faced.

You were very deep in thought, thoroughly analyzing any and every detail you saw, when a sharp ring interrupted your focus. Spencer answered the phone, listening a bit before beckoning everyone over. 'There's been another murder,' he mouthed. You let out a breath and closed your eyes. You needed to find this killer fast.

"Ok, Morgan, Prentiss, you go and secure the crime scene. Reid, you're with Y/n. Interview any witnesses and people who live in the area," Aaron ordered. You all nod before quickly making your way out the door. Spencer made it to the car first and stopped you before you got in. "Hey um.. you sure you're ok?" Spencer licked his lips as he glanced around, eyes quickly darting to your face.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I don't know why you guys keep asking that," you sighed. "We're just worried about you. You're part of our team; we care." He was quick to defend himself. You just waved him away and got into the car. Eventually, you both made it to the crime scene. You got out and started glancing around. It was... weirdly empty.

An uneasy feeling washed over you. You took a few more steps away from the car and saw a figure from the corner of your eye. You whipped around and signaled at Spencer. He nodded and followed behind you. You followed the figure, slowly getting closer to him. He wasn't a good runner.

As you raised your gun up, a hand grabbed both you and Spencer. Your firearm was ripped out of your hands and you were hit in the head. You turned to Spencer and tried to reach out as everything finally went black.

Everything hurt. Your head. Your arms. Your legs. You couldn't open your eyes. You couldn't hear anything but your breathing. You tried to move around, quickly noticing you were chained up. The coolness of the chain was nice against your fired skin.

You leaned your head back against the cool wall. Your mouth was dry. Just how long had you been out? You let out a cough, as you tried not to focus on it. "Y/N, are you awake?" a weak voice asked. "Spencer?" you weakly muttered back, another cough racking your body. "Can you see anything?" You heard the rattling of chains. "Um, no, I.. I can't."

You let in a quick breath, and talked your head up. You sat like that for what felt like hours, listening to the breathing of Spencer. A sudden echo of footsteps interrupted, quickly followed by the creaking of a door. You slowed your breathing down, trying to stay as silent as possible.

The footsteps slowed down and then finally stopped. "You're finally awake, huh?" a sharp voice cuts through the silence. You flinch at the unknown voice as you try your hardest not to make a sound. "Why so quiet? Are you just not enough pain?" He starts laughing and you feel the tip of a knife slightly pierce the skin of your stomach.

You start shaking, your instincts to protect your baby slowly overcoming you. "Awe. Are you scared?" the voice condescendingly asked. You bare your teeth to where you heard the voice and let out a low growl. You were too preoccupied to hear the rattling of the chains as Spencer tried to break free.

The knife suddenly plunged deeper, and you let out a yelp. Tears started forming in the corner of your eyes and started cascading down your face. Blood was pooling down and you heard him cackle. You started sobbing wildly as you felt another strike to your stomach.

"Poor little crybaby," the voice mocked. You tried gasping for air as sobs wracked your body. Your sniffling got louder when a sudden crack ripped through the room. A loud growl resonated through the room and the thump of a body falling onto the ground.

You gasped loudly, and heard a switch flip on. "Hey, hey, Y/N! Are you ok??" You let out a loud sob in response, words barely tumbling out of your mouth. "Hey, y-you're ok. I've got you," he stuttered. You let a deep breath in, smelling comforting pheromones.

You slowly stopped crying, the terror turning into confusion. How. How did he know?

Your breaths turned short once more as you felt a blindfold be taken off. You blinked and looked at Spencer. "Y-You. You know?" you whimpered. He nodded. "I could start smelling you. In distress? I couldn't control myself."

He started working fast to unchain you and then put pressure onto your wounds. "They'll be here soon. I swear. They'll be here," he comforted. You nodded and looked around as your vision was fading. It was so fluffy. You looked down towards your stomach, seeing how bad the wounds were. There was so much blood.

You felt sick. You quickly came back to your senses and panicked for what felt like the millionth time. Your baby. You couldn't feel your baby. You started sobbing as you heard a door being kicked down. "See there here for us. I just need you to relax for me. You'll be ok."

No matter how calming the words were, how peaceful the scent was, you still couldn't calm down. You heard a multitude of footsteps, both your pheromones and instincts going wild. You couldn't keep up, until you finally dropped.

It was cold when you woke up. The first thing you felt were scratchy sheets. Then the warmth of a hand. You tried to open your eyes and let out a small groan. You finally got enough energy to open your eyes and was immediately blinded. It was so white. A hospital. You were safe now.

As you finally realized where you were, you finally noticed the people around you. Your team. Your friends. "How are you feeling?" Derek asked. You couldn't talk, your throat too dry. Instead, you settled for a head shake. You were brought a bottle of water and helped sitting up.

You drank at the water greedily, feeling like it was the first drop of water you've had in months. When you were finally finished, you were asked a question you never, ever, wanted to hear. "Why didn't you tell us you were an omega?" You couldn't even make out who asked, just simply being gutted at being found out.

"I-" your voice was scratchy from the lack of use. You cleared your throat and tried again. "I didn't want to be seen as weak," you said softly, looking down. It was silent for a moment, but before anything could be said, a knock was at the door. A nurse entered with a tray and clipboard. She shooed everyone out and stood right next to you.

She gently put the tray of food down, and gave you a gentle smile. "How long have I been here?" you asked. "You've been here for a little over a month. That was a serious drop, as your body was trying to protect and heal the baby."

The baby. Was the baby ok? "Is the baby ok?" you looked up with hopeful eyes. She looked at you with a look of sympathy and you already knew. You couldn't even tell the news to Aaron. They were gone. You started to cry again and asked to see Aaron.

She complied and left to get him. A few still moments passed and you finally heard the gentle footsteps of your husband. He stopped next to your bed and grabbed your hand. "I'm sorry." was all you said to him. "Darling? What are you sorry for?" he asked, moving his hand to force you to look at him.

Silence filled the room as he waited for your answer. "The baby."

The atmosphere grew tense. The uncomfortable silence grew even more. "The baby? You-You were pregnant?" he stuttered out. You nodded and forced your head away from him, curling into yourself. "Oh darling. I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry," he whispered and quickly pulled you into a hug.

Sorry? Why was he sorry? It was your fault. You couldn't protect your baby. "Darling, I want you to look at me. I know that in that pretty head of yours, you think that it's your fault. But it is not your fault. You hear me? It is not your fault darling."

It was overwhelming. You looked at him with love, knowing that he was going to be there. No matter what. You returned the hug and nuzzled into him, your body finally at full rest. You were at peace, and fell into a deep slumber in your lovers arms.

[fimproda]

The X-Files x Interview With the Vampire (AMC)

It's 1996. It's a Monster of the Week episode. Agents Mulder and Scully have been working together for a couple of years at this point; one morning, Mulder barges into his basement office, as per usual, and slams a case file on his desk, right under Scully's nose.

Multiple victims in New Orleans, found murdered in various parts of the city with no blood left in their bodies and puncture wounds on their necks. Mulder already thinks it's a vampire. Scully complains and presents scientific proof to the non-existence of vampires. Mulder wins. They board a plane to Louisiana.

A younger version of the Crime Dawg from 2x08 brings the agents on a spooky tour of NOLA and tells them what happened at 1132 Royal Street:

"Home of the most infamous party ever thrown in New Orleans. This is where two dozen members of high society, they walked in them doors right there. Ain't nobody ever seen them again."

Mulder is intrigued. Scully scoffs and rolls her eyes.

The Crime Dawg goes on with his pitch: Tom Anderson, the Sebastian Melmoth/Lesander Lioncurt King of Raj thing, the Creole hustler and his little child bride, the voodoo cult they were running in the back rooms above the courtyard garden, the who's who of who dat who were brought inside the house on Mardi Gras, 1940 and that couldn't nobody find head or hairpiece of the next day.

"What did they find?" the Crime Dawg asks the agents. "Blood in between the floorboards of three different rooms, bits of indeterminate pieces of bone inside the factory-sized incinerator. Why did Tom Anderson, Mr. Melmoth, the hustler and the child bride lure these particular citizens to this house of lies and intrigue?"

"To murder them, apparently," Scully says, and then goes on a tirade about early 1900s crime scene investigation methods. Mulder follows with a compilation of his encyclopedic knowledge of vampires, which will come in handy in two years when the events of Bad Blood roll around. The Crime Dawg is already hearing wedding bells.

Later, while Scully examines the victims' bodies at the city morgue, Mulder returns to 1132 Royal Street, formerly 1132 Rue Royale. It's a museum now. Inside, there's a picture of the so-called Frenchman, the local Creole hustler and his little child bride. Mulder has a hunch, as one does, but alas, Scully doesn't find any forensic evidence and the case threatens to go cold.

Thankfully, the episode is written by Chris Carter and Frank Spotniz (and, why not, David Duchovny), so the magic of television eventually brings us to the dilapidated doorstep of one Lestat de Lioncurt, who looks exactly like the so-called Frenchman in the picture Mulder saw in the museum at 1132 Royal Street.

Something something, there's a kind of homoerotic tension between Mulder and Lestat that rivals the one between Mulder and Krycek, something something, Lestat reveals himself as a vampire when he bites Mulder and/or Scully, something something, Scully still doesn't believe in vampires. Between one thing and the other, Mulder puts his Oxford psychology degree to good use and psychoanalizes Lestat, who finds himself in the same place as mon cher Louis was 23 years earlier with a bright young reporter with a point of view (and will be again in another 30 years' time, with a bright old reporter with a point of view) and tells Mulder his entire life story.

At the end, it's one of those episodes: the monster is not actually a monster, or however that old X-Files adage goes. A classic Mulder monologue ties it all off nicely:

"Maybe, a vampire is but a man who rejects sociality, who embraces his feelings of alienation and loneliness and sets himself apart from humanity, but still needs to fill that pit with the essence of life and has to go find that in his former mortal fellows, therefore voiding the very premise of his existence.

"This has the vampire wondering what this not-life, not-death ultimately means, if it will ever amount to something.

"Am I something of God that is here because all things that are here are of God's intention? the vampire asks himself. Or am I damned? Am I from the devil? Is my very nature that of the devil?

"Or, perhaps, is my need of blood a mere biological imperative? Am I an obligate carnivore, guilty of nothing but my own survival instinct, just as the lion in his pursuit of the zebra is subjected only to the laws of nature and not those of humanity?"

I've spent the better part of the summer watching The X-Files (I'm currently at the start of season 9) and moved on to ITWV season 2 as soon as fall rolled around. Suffice to say that both these shows have become my current hyperfixations, and I just couldn't stand not making something out of it.

If someone wants to write this under a more serious light, please do; just let me know if and when you do decide to do it and where I might go read it. Because I need to read this.

[squadrah]

La Squadra in detective fiction

Giving a variety of flavors for each, I've been absorbing Sherlock Holmes and Agatha Christie stuff like a sponge lately.

RISOTTO

As a detective: One of those grimy hard-boiled types who has to get his hands dirty in more ways than one to get his evidence, though when it comes to obtaining information, his intimidating stature and demeanor get results very quickly. When he makes his interest in the case known, only the most hardened culprits stand a chance of not keeling over from heartburn on the spot, leading to fast results.

As a mere suspect: Interrogating him is like trying to squeeze blood from a stone. He's not very observant or judgmental in general, so unless he had a grudge, it's difficult to get his opinion on anything or anyone, and his taciturn nature compels him to stay quiet if he thinks that what he knows can't possibly have any bearing on the case. He's mostly right there because he spends too much time in his own head.

As the culprit: Too obvious, say the sleuths, especially if the murder was violent, so he's often taken up and dismissed with the feeling that his being the solution sounds too easy. It would take spending time with him to realize that he has a very smooth touch and doesn't need his brutal strength to get the job done, though that depends on the victim. Would only do premeditated murder born out of a grudge.

---

FORMAGGIO

As a detective: He's one of those street-smart freelancers around town who can't resist a fun challenge when they have nothing else to do, especially if there is some tangible incentive (money or sex will get him every time). He knows a lot of ruffians about who may help him in the investigation as a favor, and gets a kick out of bullying the culprits while he figures out what authority to pawn them off on.

As a mere suspect: Unless he really liked the victim, he will not take the case seriously and may end up throwing unnecessary suspicion on himself by making tasteless jokes and sounding rather careless about it all. When his past comes under scrutiny, he will either come up perfectly harmless or having engaged in something petty that complicates the case, but had nothing to do with the actual murder.

As the culprit: He can live down a lot of things, so only monetary gain could truly induce him to take a life. He's quick and dexterous (think him tossing that tiny car into his victim's drink in the anime) and would probably add poison to the victim's drink, reasoning rightly that nobody would ever profile him as a poisoner without tangible evidence and the less he interacted with the victim, the better.

---

PROSCIUTTO

As a detective: He's the classic type who needs to be propositioned and well compensated throughout, and in return he always gets clean-cut results. He'll consider the clues and employ his powers of deduction for the most part, but at critical junctures, he will expose himself to danger in the knowledge that he's perfectly capable of wrecking his opponents until they are only too glad to be arrested.

As a mere suspect: Probably the most reliable witness on the premises because he'll stick to the point and doesn't care to embellish the details, so he can come across as rather crude. He's just uncanny enough to arouse some doubt initially, but the more other people are interviewed, the more his honesty shines through. He will resent being pestered beyond the first interview, though.

As the culprit: Let's face it, he would murder for any number of reasons, personal or otherwise, and he would keep it very simple with a shot to the head. Being so thorough and technical, he could probably make even a spur of the moment crime seem premeditated, and if he were to commit a premeditated crime, chances are he would never be found out because he knows when to leave it alone.

---

PESCI

As a detective: I could picture him as a low-rank police officer who goes to process the crime scene, spots something small or out of place that puzzles him but has been overlooked by others as seemingly irrelevant, and keeps dwelling on that one point until he gets the wind up the investigators and they check on his line, only to solve the case and take the credit because Pesci's too shy to step up.

As a mere suspect: One of the worst mumblers you've ever met, and the more he's questioned, the more flustered he gets until he starts misremembering details. You would have to calm him down and reassure him continuously to get the full story, but it's worth it because he's an excellent observer and tends to eschew speculation or personal opinion in favor of what he's absolutely certain of.

As the culprit: There are two ways he would commit murder - it would either have to be in the heat of the moment, half passion and half accident, or because he had been pushed beyond his limit and something finally snapped inside. He would either panic afterwards and make mistakes, or cover it up with a lot of cold common sense; whichever way it happened, he would only confess if broken down.

---

GHIACCIO

As a detective: Every episode would center around his compiling a conspiracy board and ranting to himself like he's Charlie raving to Mac about Pepe Silvia. As he rants and storms we would get brief flashbacks or enactments of whatever event or connection he's dwelling on until the board was complete and the mystery solved; last scene he's beating the shit out of the perp in a parking lot.

As a mere suspect: He's incredibly high-strung and way too loud, and he goes off on such violent tangents that it's hard to keep him to the point, and even then he's too opinionated to be of any real use. He teeters between focused and accurate (if he was invested in some particular detail at the time) and completely unreliable (mostly blinded by anger or overwhelmed just trying to manage himself).

As the culprit: No premeditation about this one; it would honestly stress him too much to plan out anything. If he killed, he would lash out and keep going until he spent his wrath, and then dispose of the body as quickly as possible. He's small and vocal enough that he would probably get overlooked as someone incapable of this much brutality, surely, but his temper would eventually give him away.

---

MELONE

As a detective: He's like if Jane Marple was a transmasc scene girl; he'll get involved in a murder and next thing you know he's getting his hair dyed at the local salon and getting every bit of gossip out of the suspects' weed smoking girlfriends, and then typing it all up at a café until he's satisfied in his mind about who did it and how. Will then drop some hints to whoever's in charge and go on his merry way.

As a mere suspect: He cannot stop going on tangents but in quite a different way from Ghiaccio: he usually has some interesting trivia or specialized knowledge to share, and gives the investigators plenty of food for thought. Loves to talk and can be consulted over and over, but he will get more and more abstract as time goes on and share his own theories based on blood type and horoscope, so be careful.

As the culprit: Being an invalid, he would often be treated as frail and incapable, but he has a very calculating mind and decent mobility, so if he decided to murder, he would probably stage a convincing accident to happen somewhere away from him. In a pinch he might resort to weaponizing his medication as poison, hoping that suspicion would fall on someone else with knowledge and access.

---

ILLUSO

As a detective: I could see him as an accidental detective/informant - he's nosy and loves to dig up dirt on people, but sometimes this leads to his uncovering something that should have been left well alone, and then he has no choice but to quickly pass all his material over to some competent authority before anyone might come after his snooping ass. Justice is honestly an afterthought for him.

As a mere suspect: He's always pegged as a shady character and rightfully so, but he is surprised and offended every single time it happens. He's somewhat defensive, especially when he gets nervous, but where he feels safe, he will unload a lot of sordid details about the victim and everyone else involved, and insinuates as much as he can. Will then make the investigators swear they didn't hear it from him.

As the culprit: He would prefer to premeditate, not only to indulge in the fantasy of retribution and his own cleverness, but also because it seems safer to have a plan of action. He might stage an accident on the spot and then give a sob story when interrogated, or go with a good old fashioned overdose of whatever, but if he were cornered, he would strike impulsively out of fear, not caring what method he used.

---

SORBET

As a detective: This one is a slow and quiet thinker. He will take a gander at the crime scene and address questions to those involved, but seems to involve himself as little as possible on the whole, and thus ends up surprising everyone when he finally divulges his plausible theories and more than plausible solutions, mostly based on first impression, psychology, and focusing on the money motive.

As a mere suspect: He's balefully apathetic and uncooperative, always asking if he could go now, and often insists of having seen and head nothing. Underneath it all, he's either neutral or contemptuous of those involved, or deeply attached to the culprit and boldly, if placidly, covering for them every step of the way. Has very little regard for human life and infinite regard for an inheritance.

As the culprit: One of the few who would have no qualms about choking their victim with their bare hands, and it's always about money one way or another. He would make a very thorough clean-up and face the interrogation in his usual manner, possibly laying the apathy on even thicker than usual. You could only get him with damning evidence, and even then he would never own to it.

---

GELATO

As a detective: He would be such a jolly fella, just a funny little guy grinning widely and asking the most uncanny questions, and tapping you on the arm as he made a joke about hanging you based on what you had just told him about your relationship to the victim. Will casually hound the suspect all friendly like, and then cook their goose at the public barbecue for the entire world to marvel at the roast.

As a mere suspect: His degree of familiarity with the authorities would be quite jarring, and he would keep asking questions instead of answering them, not even for the sake of evasion but because he's excited about the crime and wants to hear what the sleuths think. He will appear to know too much without actually knowing anything, and let's face it, he'd probably be the second person to die because of it.

As the culprit: He will do nothing by halves, and if he wants to commit murder, then by damn it will be a freak show with weird props and arson and plenty of red herrings scattered about to keep the investigators on their toes. He would never get away with it simply because everyone's testimonies would line up about what a lethal trickster he is, but he would go down as a sensation and love it.

[monarcascension]

the less they know | j.w

summary : You were always the kind of person to stay focused. You were determined to prove yourself in this new job and never let anything deter you from your path, that was … until you met Jung Wooyoung.

pairings: wooyoung x blk!femreader

tags: light fluff , angst, SMUT WARNING, foreplay, unprotected sex, vulgar language, creampie, MINORS DNI ♡

word count: 7.2K

Since you were a little girl, you were always interested in the fashion scene. Your grandmother would frequently watch fashion shows, whether on television or in person. Even designing clothes of her own. In fact, she was the one who taught you how to use a needle and thread in the first place.Thanks to her, your addiction to the art grew over the years, which led you to the heart of Seoul, South Korea for the Summer International Fashion Seminar. A home for artists, like yourself, who wished to put their works in the public eye. All of your accomplishments in your youth, made you the first Black woman and fashion creator to have ever made it to the Korean Division. Whether your luck went any further after this point, the feature itself was impressive.You worked your ass off every day to prove to everybody and to yourself, that you deserved everything you earned.

That was only the good part of it though.

Your nervousness was starting to overcome you little by little. This was your sixth interview this year with a company in South Korea and you were sure that it could possibly be your last if this didn’t go well. You had a dream of designing that you wanted to follow, and your parents sent you off on that quest in support of your journey, but for months you had nothing to show for it but half truths. Your mother would call and ask how work was going at your new job, and you would lie and say “Great!” almost half heartedly every time. You weren’t necessarily lying that you were working, which you had been — creating new pieces for yourself as well as filling your sketchbook with new designs for the future. Despite your lengthy background, despite your qualifications nothing ever worked out.

So, this company was your final hope or you would be leaving Korea for good.

Your leg shook violently in the chair as you stared forward at the empty seat behind the Director’s desk. Scanning over the structure, pictures of family and other knick knacks lined the wooden surface, making it known that it was clearly a space that was lived in and lively, which was not customary of most offices.

The other company buildings you visited were grand and uniform in design and color, but this one — still holding on to extravagance— had murals, pictures of staff, and plaques commemorating important figures. From what you could tell this was almost like a familial space, everyone had a bond with one another here. It was sweet to see, but it only made you realize just how alone you had been in Korea all this time.

You were pulled from your thoughts just as you heard the doorknob to the office click. You immediately stood to your feet as a woman stepped through the door, seemingly shocked by your presence. You greeted her with a polite bow and she returned the gesture.

“I apologize if I kept you waiting. I had to make some rounds throughout the department and lost track of time. It’s nice to meet you. My name is Director Yoo.” She said kindly, stepping around you to get to her seat. “Please, please sit.”

You retook your spot in the chair and re-adjusted so that you presented yourself well. You were perfectly dressed for the occasion, wearing a hand-crafted black plaid blazer that fit well against your frame; matching with a skirt and a nude turtle neck. It was formal, but also fashionable and eye-catching as well.

“Director Yoo. I appreciate you choosing to discuss this opportunity with me. I was happy to hear back from you.” You started, sweetly smiling at the woman.

“I must say, I was quite shocked to hear that you chose to apply here. What made you choose us?” She asked bluntly.

“Well, I have been in Korea for some time now and being in a foreign country you tend to do a lot of research on the things that are around you. Your company landed on my radar. So, the more I found out about you and the groups you have here it was an obvious choice.” You tried to explain with as much happiness as you could muster, hoping that it would hide your fear.

“I see..” Director Yoo spoke flatly. “I hope you don’t take this wrongly, but we.. don’t usually tend to higher foreign residents.”

You flet a cold shiver run across your body. Swallowing your saliva, and clearing your throat, you righted yourself to speak again. “Of course..”

“I’m well aware of the work that you have done. You’re extremely talented, however, it is only your Nationality that is an obstacle.”

“Director, if I may?”

She motioned for you to go on and leaned back in her chair, the leather stretching against the pressure.

“I’ve been into fashion my entire life. It’s who I am. And it’s everything that I have ever wanted to do. I applied at your company because I know that I’m good at what I do. Really good. I’m more than qualified. I understand that you take care of yours at home, and I respect that, but if you give me a chance, You’ll see that I’m trying to do the same. And I will work diligently to prove that hiring me erases all other obstacles for you in the future.”

Director Yoo stared at you as you spoke, intently taking in every word you said to her. It felt like your life was being analyzed in a weird way, and it made you nervous. As if you were being graded somehow without her ever seeing your work.

Suddenly, she sat up in her chair and rolled closer to her desk, clasping her hands together before letting out a soft sigh.

“We run a tight ship here. We work for the artists, and it's my job that I have the best of the best working on my team. They’re idols so their image is everything. Their image is our image. And we have to take care of that diligently or else we’ll be out of a job. Everything we do has to be quick and efficient. When I ask for you, you’re there. No If’s, Ands, or Buts. No distractions. Can you handle that?”

This woman was intense. That soft and sweet demeanor you thought she possessed was then replaced with business motive. She didn’t play around when it came to work, but you expected no less from the Head of the Fashion Department. You nodded your head quickly, accepting her challenge without fear.

“I’ll do more than my best.”

Standing from her seat, she walked to the other side of the desk where you sat and extended her hand. “Then welcome to the KQ family.”

You suddenly felt lighter as she said those words to you. Your shoulders affixing themselves to the light and feathery feeling now bestowed upon you. The opportunity to break down crying in front of her presented itself to you many times as you bowed to her with gratitude, but you maintained what resilience you had left. “I won’t let you down ma’am.”

“Good. We’ll finish the rest of the paperwork later. I would show you around myself, but we’re trying to finish prep for their comeback and we need all the hands we can get-“

“I can help!” You chimed.

The Director appeared confused at your eagerness and looked as if she was ready to shoot down your proposal, which made you feel guilty for speaking up in the first place, but she smiled and pulled open the door to the office.

“Let’s put you to work then.”

Following the Director through the KQ building, the two of you spoke in length about the expectations for this comeback as well as their concept. You didn’t know that much about Idol schedules, but from what you were being told, you definitely had your work cut out for you, and it excited you nonetheless. Taking the elevator up to the third floor, you were introduced to the calm chaos of the Art Department.

Racks of concealed clothing were parked outside in the halls or being loaded up by other employees, followed by them writing something on the labels in Korean. Some of them bowed at the presence of the Director, and looked confused at you but still greeted you warmly anyway before running past you to their next destination.

“We’re usually a little more organized than this, but it’s a little hectic today since we only have three weeks before the music shows. We were down a stylist so we are missing the finished pieces for one of their music show appearances. That is of the utmost importance and where you come in.” Director Yoo motioned you into one of the empty work spaces.

When you stepped inside it appeared like a dressing room combined with a waiting room with a vanity and a long body mirror, a couch and two side seats accompanied with a wall-mounted television and coffee table. In the corner was a rack of strewn about clothing and a desk with a large sewing machine and measurement map.

You took in the comfortable feel of the room , making note of everything at your disposal.

“Since it’s your first day, I won’t overwhelm you, but I want you to get used to things. The stylist left all of the equipment so use what you need. You’ll be working with Wooyoung today— he should be here in a moment. So take care of them. Any questions?”

“No- well, yes. One. I have complete creative control??”

“Anyone else's opinions would just slow you down in the moment. Just show us what you got and we’ll go from there. Good luck. No distractions!” The Director swiftly exited the room just as soon as she entered, leaving you standing in the center of the room with no idea where to begin.

It felt like you had been thrown in the heat of battle without a weapon, but if you didn’t find something quick, you were sure to be killed.

You placed your belongings on the couch, all except your sketchpad. Knowing what ATEEZ’s concept was, you tried to brainstorm something fast. From the research you had done on the group, you were privy to their style already, which gave you something to go off of. Since you of all people had the knowledge of what was hip, your pen started moving across the pad without hesitation.

“Excuse me?”

In the middle of you sketching, you heard a soft voice from the direction of the entrance. You quickly shot your head up from your paper and turned around to see—as unprofessional as it was to say— the most beautiful man you had ever laid your eyes on. You knew you shouldn’t stare, but it was almost impossible as he gazed upon you. His skin was a gorgeous light honey color. His jawline was chiseled to an inhuman perfection, accompanying his sharp nose and plump lips. He looked like trouble incarnate with long dark hair, but his brown eyes were so kind, you felt like they would suck you in within a matter of minutes if he stared at you any longer.

Shaking yourself free from your trance, softly patting your cheek as a nonverbal “pull yourself together”. You gave him a soft smile before bowing to him.

“I.. Hi. Hello. Sorry about that. I might have zoned out a little bit.” You chuckled nervously.

To your surprise, he laughed softly as he entered the room. “I noticed. You were staring at me for a while and didn’t speak. I thought I broke you for a second.”

That’s because you did.

But you didn’t say that out loud. “And you must be Wooyoung.”

“Gosh, what gave it away?” A sarcastic tone lining his words as he pulled his hair back behind his ears.

“The Director told me a loooooot about you.”

Wooyoung scoffed. “Waah. I don’t know if that’s a hidden compliment or an insult.”

“A compliment.” The two of you laughed for a moment.

“If I would have known I would be working with you, I would have prepared some compliments of my own.”

You grinned. “Well there’s still time for that.”

“You’re very pretty- I mean your outfit is. Pretty.” He stammered over his words, but tried to save himself and you laughed.

“Thank you. I made it myself. Which is exactly, what I’m going to do for you as your new stylist, so why don’t we get started?”

Throughout the rest of your session together, the conversation would flow as easy as it ever had with anybody else. While you dressed him like your personal doll, making him try on outfit after outfit in order to see your vision, he would hammer you with questions. Spilling jokes that would send you into laughing fits that had no return. It was non-stop. You don’t think you ever had this much conversation with someone since you came to Korea, but it felt nice. Being around him felt nice. Oddly, it was as if you were friends for a while instead of people who just met. It was so easy to talk to him, considering that he was an idol as well as a stranger to you. You would have thought he was snobbish in every way possible, but he just felt like a friend.

You had taken all of Wooyoung’s measurements and dimensions and finished up a good enough sketch that gave you an idea of how you wanted to style him, and he sat there with you and explained what kind of vibe he wanted to go for. You took all that information and drew it within minutes. It was complex, but doable. Portions of the design would have to be hand stitched, but that didn’t stop you.

“Alright, done!” You exclaimed proudly, flipping the sketchpad around to show him. “What do you think?”

Wooyoung kept his eyes on you the entire time, his fist resting on his cheek as he smiled. “Beautiful..”

You looked to him happily at the sound of his words and were met with those bright brown eyes flushing over every portion of your face. You thought he was referring to the drawing, but he was staring at you. Did he mishear you perhaps?

Your heartbeat was starting to pick up rapidly to the point you could hear it in your ears. You just met him mere hours ago, how was it that he managed to get you flustered so easily?

Laughing lightly to yourself with the hopes of trying to play it off as a joke, you set the sketch pad down and started gathering your belongings. “ I see why the girls love you, Jung Wooyoung.”

“Why’s that?”

“You're a flirt.”

“Here and there.” Wooyoung leaned back in his chair, working the corner of his lips up into a sly smirk while his head tilted slightly upwards. “But..I only flirt with the people I want.”

You believed that you had choked on air at that moment with your lungs seemingly collapsing in on themselves. From what you had learned about him since your conversation began, was that he was very up front with how he feels. He was one of the blunt ones in the group, but there was nothing that could have prepared you for that. A part of you wanted to believe that he was messing around, however the look in his eye was saying otherwise. He was staring at you like you were the only meal on the menu– his glare alone was a danger to you and you desperately needed to separate yourself from it.

Maybe all idols were like this with the new girls or the women that worked with them . Him flirting with you didn’t mean anything and even if it did, it didn't matter. He was an Idol and you were an employee with everything to lose. It wasn't like you could give into his advances anyway, if the two of you were even caught stealing sideways glances at one another, or touching each other in any way that was not becoming of an idol and staff relationship, it would be a disaster waiting to happen.

After months of agony you had finally managed to secure the job that you had been looking for to jumpstart your career, and nothing could get in the way of that. And a workplace affair was not on your bucket list of plans for your future.

“Boy, you play too much.” You played off Wooyoung’s statement once again, pushing the thoughts of his flirtatious notions to the back of your head.

No matter how unnervingly attractive he was. There could be no distractions. Not one. Not even him.

“Hey you two. We’re wrapping up for the day. Everything good here?” The Director’s voice came crashing into the room from the doorway, and you felt your heart lighten.

Saved by the bell. Thank god.

“Yeah! All done.” Quickly scrambling to your feet, you tossed your bag over your shoulder and fixed yourself accordingly. “I’m putting the pieces together tomorrow.”

“Perfect. You’re a lifesaver. Wooyoung. Hongjoong and your manager are looking for you, it's best you start heading out too.”

“Thank you, Director.” Wooyoung said, nodding his head in acknowledgment of the woman’s position and authority just before she walked away, leaving the two of you alone again.

You took the opportunity to try and weasel between the awkwardness brewing in the air, but you felt a light tug on your arm pulling you back. Your eyes landed upon Wooyoung who had your hand clasped in his. As strong as his physique was, the hold he had on you was gentle. The way the pad of his thumb brushed across your smooth brown skin sent goosebumps up your arm.

“W-Wooyoung?” You stammered, searching his face for some kind of reasoning behind his sudden actions. “What is it?”

And like he had just stepped out of a romantic movie from the 90’s, he brought the back of your hand up to his lips and softly planted a kiss in the center. The gesture set your entire body on fire. All of the gears in your brain halted for a moment, scraping roughly against the other as none of what you were experiencing made a single lick of sense. Not that you had the energy or time to make sense of it in the first place, but all you knew was that this shouldn’t happen. Right?

Wooyoung flickered his soulful gaze upon you once more. “Have a good night. I liked spending time with you today.”

Not knowing what else to say to him, you mustered up a smile through your obvious confusion and relative anxiety and bowed to him politely before pulling your hand out of his.

“Goodnight, Wooyoung.”

╚ ╝

When you arrived at your apartment, you collapsed in your bed almost instantly after finishing your nightly routine—plopping face down into your linens. The emotional weight of the day had completely tired you out, and you wanted nothing more but to sleep now. Letting out a thunderous, muffled groan into your bed sheets, you flipped your position to stare up at the ceiling.

Out of everything you had experienced today, only one thing— one person— was on your mind.

Jung Wooyoung.

And not the one thing that mattered which was keeping your job.

He kissed your hand. He flirted with you.

How could he be so careless to do something like that in public?

But he was so sweet. Gentle. Kind. Even staring up at the tall ceiling above you, you could perfectly trace out his smile with your eyes. The tender look he gave you when he called you “beautiful”. The spot on the back of your hand still tickled with the kiss he left behind, and you ran your fingers across it softly. His laugh made you weak in the knees and you could listen to it every day if you could. It made you laugh even thinking about it.

The words he said to you before you parted ways played on loop in the back of your head. You pondered for a moment if he was actually serious about them, but wiped the thought from your mind entirely.

You did not have the luxury for fantasies and what ifs. You had a job to do. The lives the two of you led were too different, continuing like this with one another would be dangerous. He was an idol. You only worked with him and nothing more. You could not allow yourself to be distracted by him any longer.

You had to come into work tomorrow focused.

And you did just that.

The next day, you came to KQ Entertainment a bit later than the other staff members at the request of the Director. You were more dressed down than yesterday now that you felt a little more comfortable. You wore a long sleeve, green, textured halter top with blue washed jeans that hugged against your waist, with green, suede sneakers you had made yourself. Your thick, kinky hair pulled into an up-do with wild strands falling across your forehead. Your makeup was done lightly, mostly highlighting your key features like your eyes, cheeks, and lips.

You greeted some of your co-workers as you passed them by in the hall towards your new office space. Flicking on the light in the still and empty space, you threw down your bag and immediately positioned yourself at the back of the room where you rummaged through the leftover clothing. Pulling a few pieces from the rack you folded them over your arm and turned towards the desk where you noticed something there that had not been there before.

Laying the clothes down on the table to get a better look, there had been a small rectangular box filled with the delicacies of Korean culture that you had grown to know over the half a year that you had been here, companioned with a beverage and a note that was written in the language left on top of it. Pulling the paper off, you put your months of studying to work and read the note.

You look even prettier with a smile on your face

so i hope this brings you one today, while i'm away

- Woo Young

So much for no distractions. You had just managed to pull yourself up by your bootstraps and insisted that you would not think about him again, just for him to go and do something like this.

You wanted to be angry , however you couldn’t help but smile.

“Ahh… Jung Wooyoung. You will be the death of me.” You ran your finger over the note and your heart fluttered.

You had never had anyone show you such kindness before. Regardless of his intentions, the gesture was sweet and you were grateful. Knowing that he was on schedule today saddened you a bit, but you had work to finish and now was the time to do it. Setting the lunch box he had gifted you to the side, you set your desk up with all of the equipment you needed and got to work.

Music played at a medium volume from the television across the room, giving you some kind of sound to work with as you attempted to create Wooyoung a dynamic look for his stage using the information you gathered from him yesterday. The sewing machine whirred as you raced against time, feeding it with a bright color that you imprinted onto the dark gray shirt you had found, which had taken a few hours at least to replicate it front and back.

Once it looked as good as you wanted it to, you cut the sleeves off of it, dipping down into the sides of the shirt so that the holes could give him some mobility while he was dancing. You would clean everything else up later, but your vision was coming to fruition. You continued on like this well into the late evening, and soon realized after almost pricking your finger with a needle, that you had not eaten a thing. Completely forgetting the meal that Wooyoung had left you hours before. You stood and admired your work, wiping the sweat off of your brow and nodded feeling accomplished with what you had gotten done.

Grabbing the box from the side table, you stepped out of the room and walked down the hall towards the break room that had a kitchen inside of it. There were a few lingering employees there, but it was mainly empty, not that it mattered to you. You stepped over to the microwave and heated your lunch before returning back to your work room, and to your surprise you found someone else there waiting for you.

You stopped in your tracks and peeked to the side to get a better look at them, but he did you the favor of turning around to greet you.

“Wooyoung? When did you-“

“I just popped in. Schedule ran a little longer than usual, but I wanted to check in on you. Something told me, you would try to work into the night if no one stopped you.” Wooyoung explained, looking you up and down from head to toe. “I see I was right.”

You snickered to yourself, walking back over towards your desk where you had been working. “Well, I have a job to do, fortunately enough for you. Somebody has to keep up with your image.”

“Sometimes work can wait. Look at you, you’re just now eating something and it’s almost eight o’clock.” He sounded as if he was almost scolding you, but more out of concern than anything.

You took the chopsticks apart that came with the meal, pulling open the plastic covering as your nose was hit with the most delicious aroma. “At least I’m eating now right?”

Wooyoung cursed under his breath and shook his head, “You’re really stubborn, you know that?”

You took a few bites of your food before setting the box to the side begrudgingly with a sharp sigh.

And for some reason, you snapped suddenly. “We only met yesterday and all of a sudden you think you know me?”

Wooyoung seemed taken aback by the tone in your voice, but for some reason you could not hide your growing frustration. “Well, I’d like to. But you won’t let me.”

“There’s a reason for that.”

“Why?” He asked sternly, furrowing his brows at you.

You laughed in disbelief . “Are you seriously asking right now? You’re an idol, Wooyoung. I work for you. I shouldn’t have even let you know as much as I have told you anyway..”

“If I cared about any of that shit, I wouldn’t have come here at all. I wouldn’t have asked you a single thing about your life. I meant what I said to you yesterday-“

“Jesus Christ..” You stood to your feet, completely thrown at his lack of understanding of your current predicament. “You don’t get it.”

“What??”

“This is so unserious. I am not having this conversation with you, Wooyoung! I have work to do.”

“Does anything else ever matter to you other than work?” Wooyoung retorted, standing to his feet now.

You quickly moved over towards the door and shut it. “Look, I don’t know what image of me that you have carved in your mind in the last twenty four hours, but you do not know me. I don’t know you outside of work alone. I can’t even believe that half of what you said yesterday was the truth or how many times you have said it to every other girl that works here with you.”

Wooyoung stepped closer to you, an uncontrolled fire burning deep inside of his gaze. You felt like you were shrinking in his presence alone the closer he got to you. Your eyes darted across his face, terrified of what his rebuttal to you would be.

“Ever since I saw you yesterday, I couldn’t take my eyes off of you for a second. I asked you every question under the sun just because I liked the way you spoke to me. I told you the dumbest jokes just to hear you laugh because your smile made me smile.”

“Wooyoung-“ You tried to stop him, but he continued speaking and moving towards you.

“I wanted you the moment you looked back at me. When you left me last night, all I did was think about you. Today, I couldn’t think straight without seeing your face. You have been the only thing on my mind from the moment we met. Time means nothing to me.”

Wooyoung was towering over you now. Your back was pressed against the curtains on the door’s window leaving almost no room between you and him. You hung onto every word he spoke like it was his last. They were tied together so beautifully that it was almost hard to refute them. You wanted to believe them, but none of his words changed your reality: the two of you couldn’t be together. You swallowed thickly, licking over your lips to soothe the dryness lingering there.

“This can’t happen, Wooyoung. We could lose everything if someone found out that the mere possibility of us existed. One scandal could ruin your career. My career.”

You were almost pleading with him at this point, you had worked so hard for this life only to have it threatened by the possibility of a prohibited moment of weakness. However, you could not deny that you did feel something for him, though it did not yet have a name. Maybe it was because you were lonely all this time and just needed someone to make you feel good, or maybe you were just desperate for attention but were lying to yourself to make you feel better. You weren’t sure.

But you felt something, you just couldn’t say the words.

“So they won’t know. They won’t have to.” His voice had lowered into a sweet whisper now that caressed your ears like a tender melody. Wooyoung pulled his tongue over his lips, flicking his gaze between your dark brown pools and your glossed pair. He placed a finger underneath your chin and tilted your head up to face him. “But if you tell me, right now, that you feel nothing for me…I’ll walk away.”

“I..” You desperately wanted to say the words. In fact you were trying to force them to come out, but your tongue could not forge the sentence in time. Your eyes, instead, we’re carving out the line in his lips and how much softer they looked up close.

You felt like your heart was going to pound out of your chest. The pressure of the moment building and building so fast that you couldn’t keep up.

Just say it.

“Nobody would know, right?” You exasperated.

Wooyoung nodded his head. “No one.”

As soon as he gave you the confirmation you needed, you pulled him in closer by the nape of his neck. Your lips crashing hungrily against the others like you had been waiting for this moment your entire lives. Your hand brushed through his dark tresses, gripping onto them as the kiss intensified. Your bodies pressed firmly against the other with no promise of letting go. You could taste his cool breath swirling in your mouth as his tongue pressed between your parted lips and claimed entry.

His strong hands found purchase on the back of your thighs after sliding over every curve in your frame. He pulled you up in the air, you instinctively wrapping your legs around his waist as he moved you over to a new— more comfortable location. To where, you had no idea nor did it matter to you where he chose. In the matter of seconds, you found yourself placed on a high platform of some sorts, completely stable against it and him. The cool surface he had you against being a dead giveaway that he had you against the vanity with him trapped right between your legs. The next thing you know you were tearing off his clothes. Removing the distressed denim jacket he had on and tossing it to the side, along with the dark graphic tee he donned as well. Each article of clothing hitting the ground with a thud somewhere. With his upper attire now removed, you could fully admire the true beauty of his skin tone — the way it shined in the light and melded beautifully against your own as you caressed his shoulders and chest. Meanwhile, Wooyoung started going for the buttons on your jeans, undoing the fastenings prior to tugging them off of your waist and letting them fall onto the floor, kicking them off to the side in one push.

Hands falling down the ripples of his abs and down to his dark colored sweats, you hooked your fingers inside of them and started to pull them downwards and Wooyoung assisted you, leaving him in only his briefs that showed the massiveness of his growing bulge.

“I want you..” You moaned into his mouth, breaking the kiss to speak, which Wooyoung took as an opportunity to dress your skin with his lips. Canvassing your cheeks and your neck with ticklish, pillowy love notes that made you smile.

“Tell me what you want baby hmm?” He cooed sensually, pulling back for a moment to look at you, taking note of your desperate and needy tone with a devilish grin. His hands ran up your thick thighs, feeling the warmth growing between them. His fingers lightly brushed against your lips, pressing into the fabric with his middle finger just to feel how wet you were. “You want to feel me like this?”

You groaned in response to his touch, biting down on your plump bottom lip as you watched him explore you. Wooyoung was enthused by your reaction, but even more so at the slickness he felt in your panties alone. You hastily nodded in response to his question.

“Fuck, you’re already dripping and I barely touched you yet.” Wooyoung brought the tips of his fingers up to his mouth and sucked them, which turned you on even more.

He kept his eyes on you the entire time he tasted you, taking those same two fingers and dipping them back into your crevasse, pulling your panties to the side while using his other free hand to hook one of your legs around him while the other remained spread, giving him a clear view of your pussy. Using the pads of his fingers he circled your clit, soaking the duo with your juices as you moaned out for him, slowly writhing in place.

You threw your head back from the sheer ecstasy and cried out at the ceiling above. “Ooh shit-“

“Look at me.” He commanded, bringing your focus back to him once more. “I want to see how pretty you look when you cum on my fingers.”

Wooyoung planted a soft kiss against your cheek just as he inserted his two digits inside of you, pushing past your slick walls and beginning to pump his wrist inside of you, picking up that speed and translating all the power into his forearm and then his entire arm. The room was filled with the harmonious sounds of your juices squelching against his hand and your pretty moans that were music to his ears.

“That’s it baby. Let it out..” Wooyoung coached into your ear, holding you tight while he watched his middle and ring finger appear and disappear inside of you repeatedly, fully coated in your liquids. “That shit feels good doesn’t it?”

“It feels so fucking good..” You cried out to him with a shaky voice. “Please don’t stop..”

The intensity of him pushing into you was almost too much for you to bear, but it just felt too good to have him pull back now. You wrapped your arm around where his wrist and forearm met and gripped onto him tightly, your toes curling at the sensation running through your body. You were teetering at the edge now— your eyes rolling steeply to the back of your head, your vision growing more hazy by the second. Wooyoung kissed the side of your head, your jawline, your neck rhythmically fulfilling your every desire.

You were growing closer to your end, every moan increasing in pitch and frequency. If there were anybody passersby outside the door, you were sure that they could hear you, but you almost didn’t care. It felt too good to hold back.

“Your moans are so pretty. I can’t wait to hear how good you sound when I fuck you…” Wooyoung growled into your ear.

You inched your hand up towards Wooyoung’s neck, cupping it just around his jaw and turning him towards you. “I want to feel you inside me. I can’t take it anymore..”

You searched his face for a moment. His eyes were glossed and practically sparkling with a deep, unsatiated lust. He had a need for touch— a thirst for it. A soul that required physical connection. That was a quality you both shared. Now that you experienced him, you couldn’t get enough and wanted more. If you didn’t have him now, you felt like you could explode. Wooyoung recognized this and pulled his fingers out of you, soothing your throbbing mound with the palm of his hand; giving you some time to breathe. He stepped back and removed his last article of clothing. His briefs hit the ground with a dull thud as his girth jolted from the seams, pointing stiffly towards you. Your mouth started watering at the sight. His dick was just as pretty as the rest of his body and the size fit him perfectly.

Inching towards you, the man pulled you off the surface of the vanity by your waist and eagerly flipped you around to face the mirror. With your frame slightly bent over the counter you saw him snake himself into the cusp of your neck, moving the thick strands of your hair out of the way so that he could see your face. “I want you to watch yourself.. don’t look away.”

You couldn’t believe that you were doing this. Tucked away in a dressing room with an idol. With him. At your own place of work. As much as you wanted some semblance of shame to come, it just never did. As all you could think about in this moment was him taking you and equally how bad you wanted him. You were reminded how good this moment truly felt when he planted a kiss on the exposed part of your shoulder and slowly eased his way inside of your slickness. Your mouth fell agape as did his; your tight walls gripping around the curve of his inches the more he pushed inside of you. His length fit you perfectly, as you completely gloved his inches.

“Fuck..” he whined. “You feel so good.”

With him so close, you could smell the freshness of his cologne. It was strong and commanding, but also hypnotic in many ways. His breath capes your neck, making your hairs stick up on end. His deep, guttural groans as he started stroking inside of your moist cavity only triggered your own moans. And still you did as he instructed you to and watched him fuck you so lovingly. The vanity rocked underneath your weight, causing you to slightly shift off balance and grip onto the table so it did not move. Wooyoung started to pick up his pace, the force of him hitting you from behind, sending your ass colliding against his pelvis in thick waves. He pulled back, catching the force head on as he reached forward and grabbed a handful of your coils and pulled your head back just a bit to where you can still see yourself in the mirror.

“Mmm, you’re such a pretty fucking whore for me.” Wooyoung chuckled lowly. “Look at how good you take that shit.”

The sensation was overwhelming your senses. Your walls pulsated across his thick member, releasing and gripping him constantly. Still reeling from when he was fingering you just a few minutes prior, you could still feel yourself coming closer and closer to your inevitable demise. The pressure in your abdomen was building like a dam about to burst. Even with the stamina that you two had, you could feel that he was close along with yourself. His breath was beginning to hitch and grow more rapid than before. You could feel his dick twitching inside of you as well even with the strength of his pumps.

You dared to stare at him amidst the euphoria you were experiencing out of curiosity as well as purely being enamored with the beauty of the man before you. You watched the way his chest rose and fell from his heavy breathing followed by the intensity of his orgasms. Sweat beads across his skin, giving way to the light that shines overhead. It was more pleasurable for you to know that he was enjoying himself as much, if not more, than you were.

Your lips curled upwards, licking across your own as Wooyoung sang your praises for taking him so well. Especially since it wasn’t just coming from anyone. Despite the circumstances of how you may have gotten here, you knew that he felt that this was more than just sex. You weren’t just engaging in a little hit it and quit it, no, it meant more. The purest form of connection that any person could ever experience, especially, when it stemmed from deep yearning – hoping that each other would wake up to the truth. There was no turning back from this moment forward.

“Fuck, I’m about to cum!” You exclaimed in a huff, urging him on as his thrust kept pumping into your tight walls, and his grin grew wider as he felt your coming climax brewing.

“That’s right, be a good girl and cum for me.” He coaxed. You felt like you were on cloud nine as you coated his dick with your juices. He leaned down into you, pressing your stomach against the table, and wrapped his arm around your shoulders and gripped your neck so roughly that you could see the veins in his arms poking from beneath his sandy skin.

Your moans were broken and incomplete, forming into a ball of nonsense tumbling from your mouth. You put the last bit of your energy into giving him everything you had, bucking your hips against his length.

“Cum in me baby..I want all of you. You primed softly. You didn’t know what came over you just then as you had never uttered those words to anyone before, but you just couldn’t control yourself in the moment and neither could he.

Sending his hips forward in powerful bursts of passion, Wooyoung growled hellishly into your ear the closer he got to his own end. The fullness of his climax painting your insides like his own personal canvas. You came with, riding out the last of your cum, before you dropped to the table, digging your nails into the wood and scratching against it from the final feeling of release. All your pent up frustrations over the last few months flowing down your thighs and onto his inches.

A light laugh escaped his lips, sighing as he closed his eyes and hovered over your weakened and fragile body.

“Do you think they’ll know?” He asked playfully.

You let out a half-hearted chuckle. “I guess we’ll have to find out.”

[olivia091108]

For the film

Summary:y/n and Johnny are doing a film together and are fake dating to promote the film

Word count:1.6k

Pairing:Johnny Knoxville x reader

Getting a call from the director is never good so I walk into his office to see what’s wrong. When I see that Johnny is there I’m not as worried it’s probably something about a script change. I take a seat next to Johnny and ask what’s going on

The movies coming out in 4 months and we’re trying to find a way to promote it.

“Cant you just put out billboards like everyone else?” Johnny asks

“That’s what everyone does I want to do something exciting so me and the team came up with you two pretend to date”

“What?! What do you mean”

“Just going out on dates and being seen together then the paparazzi will put out the pictures and in interviews you can say how you fell in love and once the films out your done easy”

“No one’s gonna believe that”

“Your actors just act. Speaking of we’ve wrapped for the day since we’re trying to find locations”

Me and Johnny leave his office and it’s a bit awkward to be honest because I know that we kiss for the movie but this is different it’s actually real

“Wanna come round mine and we can figure this out” Johnny’s voice snaps me out my thoughts and I nod

“I’ll be round in an hour”

“Alright see you then”

Johnny’s house was really nice it was the right size for him and inside is decorated and it’s quite clean for Johnny. He just finished getting us a takeaway from burger king and he comes back in holding two beers and hands one to me.

“Ok so i was thinking if were going to be doing interviews they will obviously ask how it happened so we should figure that out any ideas.”

“We has mind blowing sec and you couldn’t get enough of me” he says it so seriously i could barley tell if he was joking.

“No how about we were flirting on set a lot i like you you like me and we kiss and then go out on a date.”

“Boring we should go out to a club or bar and then we come outside kiss make sure paparazzi get the shot then you come back to mine.”

“What so its like a one night stand then we fall in love. I don’t think so that would only be talked about for 3 weeks tops.”

After 10 minutes the food got here and we still hadn’t decided on anything and with a couple of empty beers next to me i was getting a but tipsy

“Ok ok ok how about we get seen together doing normal co star things but it gets more girlfriend boyfriendy until like a month and a half before the films released where we confess to dating”

“Thats actually a pretty good idea fir someone whos drunk” taking extreme offence to that i start denying profusely.

“Your too drunk to drive stay here tonight”

“Thanks johnny”

“its fine doll”and he shows me to the guest bedroom and i get straight into bed with my clothes on and fall asleep straight away.

When we get to set i have a hangover its not too bad but it will be a long day. I go to the makeup department and then go to wardrobe and get into costume.

After filming a few scenes me and johnny are just hanging out by my trailer sitting on the steps to it when i see Claire trying to hide behind one of the other trailers

“You ok claire?”

“Oh yeah im great you too just keep doing that ill just be back here”shes obviously hiding something

“Claire what are you doing?”

“I got sent here to take photos of you two”

“You could have just said” i chuckle at her and turn to johnny and put hi hand on my thigh and just tell him to keel talking while i smile.we hear a few clicks of claires camrea

“You got it?”johnny asks. “Yeah thanks guys”

It was like that the rest of the week and by Friday we were front page

Johnny Knoxville and co-star y/n y/l/n are seen canoodling on set of new movie

The following week me and Johnny are seen going to eatchothers apartments and seen with eatchothers friends. It’s honestly quite funny because me and and Johnny already do this stuff.

After a month of that sort of things happening we are actually going to Hawaii to film the rest of the movie. It was about 5:45 am when i got to the airport and i was dressed in practically pjs but as soon as i got there my eyes got blinded by paparazzi and Johnny came over to me and held my hand to get me inside.

It didn’t stop there though on the plane even our director was taking photos and telling us how to pose saying things like “put your arm round her johnny” “y/n lean on him” “now pretend to fall asleep on eatchother”

Once we got to Hawaii I immediately wanted to look around ad spend time in the beach but first I had to work. We were shooting a. Scene where the whole cast was going on a tour in the rainforest but Johnnys character gets us lost from the group

It was great there were so many animals and this one monkey kept clinging onto me and during on of the takes he jumps down onto me and starts wrapping itself round me and I wanted to keep it ad once we had finished filming i didnt want to say goodbye

By the time we got back to the hotel the sun was about to set so I wanted to head to the beach and watch the sunset and go for a swim.

The sunset was beautiful and the water wasn’t too cold and I began to float on my back and swim to the bottom picking up one of those shells that you can hear the beach in

Once i resurface I see Johnny watching me and I swim over and get out the water heading over to him.

“Look what I found isnt it gorgeous”i proudly show off the shell but as the wind picks up I shiver and Johnny pulls me into his chest not even caring that I’m drenched. I look up at him and he smiles before looking back at the sunset and I wrap mr arms round his waist and lean in even more to try and warm myself up and we watch the sunset.

“I was thinking we’ve finished the film and soon we will have to show everyone that we’re dating so we should kiss” I tell him

“Now?”

“Why not it’s not like we haven’t before and anyway I see Claire hiding over there.”

I wrap my arms round his neck and lean up to kiss him slow at first and I feel his hands glide down my back to grab at my ass wich makes me smile against the kiss.

My feelings for Johnny changed after that its like every time I saw him i didn’t want to pretend ro date him I wanted to actually date him so now in every situation I foul I would convince him that we need to kiss or ho on a fare fir the paparazzi.

Me and Johnny have a collection of magazines. Every time we were published we would buy the magazine and go round one of our houses and laugh about the things they would say.

“Omg that photo is awful why would they choose that” I would complain

“You look gorgeous doll”I immediately felt butterfly’s swarm my stomach

“Your ass looks better than mine in those jeans” i point at him on the front cover

“Your tits look great” I grab the magazine and stare at the photo of us on the beach. “Omg they look huge”

But now every tine a magazine would say stuff about the two of us I wanted it to be real like him for real taking me to dinner and fur real spending the night at eatchothers houses not just as friends and fir real him kissing me.

Tonight is the premier of our movie and by next week we will break up but im just going to enjoy it while it lasts. Im wearing a black dress with a snake going down my spine and deep cut to show off my cleavage.

While in the taxi I want to confess my feelings to him before we break up so now’s the time

“Johnny I have something I have to say. I like you like more than s friend I have for a while now and I know that we were only pretending to promote the movie but the pat 4 months have been the best of my life snd I know that you probably dont care bu-

He grabs the back of my neck and pulls me in for a kiss and it gets cut off as the driver announces that we are here.

I walk onto the red carpet Johnny with his arm round my waist and we pose together and do some interviews before he kisses me and ive never seen more flashes in my life and I know this will make front page.

I feel like its rushed but it literally took me 4 hours so I hope you like it

-liv