#they are normally so lovely and silly in front of the camera but this serious artistic side is also part of what makes them so wonderful | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

valiantlyjollynightmare · 2 years ago

Text

five times they didn’t take a polaroid (and one time someone else took one)

my contributions to @lovesquarefanbook :D Rating: G Ao3 Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Realtionships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir / Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug Tags: five time, polaroids, getting together, aged up, prom, wedding, future kids, fluff, FLUFF ALL AROUND, inspired by music, marriage proposal, slow dancing, pre-reveal, post-reveal, prpr Number of Words: 4635 Summary: Snapshots of Adrien and Marinette's love story as they grow up - and always, always more in love Read on ao3

Author Notes: This was written for the Happily Ever After Zine, and I have some amazing memories tied to it. More than half of it was written on a bench in the park in front of my dorm building and like. The vibe alone still gives me life.

For maximum enjoyment, check out these songs: The Good Old Days - Macklemore (ft. Kesha) Hymn for the Weekend - Coldplay Queen of Hearts - We The Kings Best Day of My Life - The American Authors Let's Get Married - Bleachers Praf de stele - Vița de vie Fireflies - Owl City Which you can also find in this Spotify Playlist

1. The Good Old Days

When Adrien gives her his present, he’s positively beaming, and his excitement is contagious. His joy translates into curiosity for Marinette, and as she asks if it’s okay to open his present on the spot, he gets even more excited.

It’s not a big box, and the packaging is clumsily done. She loves it all the more. But however much she tries, she still has to tear it to get to what’s inside.

“A couple months back I heard you say that you hate taking pictures because you always drop your phone,” he says at the same time as she finally looks inside.

A camera. And boxes upon boxes of film.

“Now you have something you can’t drop as easily,” he continues.

Marinette can only raise her eyes and gape at him.

He’s positively glowing.

Somehow, she musters some words, looking at the camera one second and him the next. “But this is a Polaroid,” she says in lieu of a proper response. It’s expensive, it’s too much, it’s perfect. “With tons of film!”

He chuckles. And winks. “Go wild!”

“But this must’ve cost you a fortune!”

“Not really,” he says, but he must see the doubt in her eyes.

He leans forward and puts his hands on her shoulders, hitting her with a proud grin. He’s not even trying to hide how pleased with himself he is.

“You deserve so much more! This is just a small present and I hope you like it.”

The last thing she’d want is to make him feel like she doesn’t like his present, but it’s a weird feeling. He might be saying it’s not much, but it doesn’t feel like it.

“I love it!” she sputters her response, mind almost as blank as all the film in the box. “But wow, it feels like a lot.”

Adrien takes his hands off her shoulders, clasping them behind his back and rocking back on his heels.

She misses the warmth of his closeness but at least she can breathe a bit more normally.

“How about this,” he starts again, changing tactics. His expression is thoughtful but there’s still that note of excitement that hasn’t left his eyes. “Since I got yours, I’ve been thinking about getting one for myself too. How about I do that and we become Polaroid buddies?”

On the one hand, she doesn’t want him to spend even more money on her. Can it even be considered spending money on her?

But on the other, she likes the idea of sharing this little thing with him. She imagines them going on photo-taking dates. Being silly, and serious, and artistically invested in the littlest of things—together. And it’s her birthday. She’s allowed to be selfish. Especially when he seems so happy at the idea.

So she gives a tentative nod—and his face lights up again.

“I hope you’ll have so much fun with it!” he says, beaming at her.

It’s her turn to wink at him. “We’ll have fun together.”

“You don’t have to wait until I get mine to start taking photos with yours, though!”

She hums, bringing the camera out of the box to inspect it. She has no idea what to do with it, but she still points it at him.

“I can do this, then?” she asks, smirking as she mimics snapping a photo.

His face takes on the most precious expression—so betrayed, that she can’t help a laugh.

Still chuckling, she puts the camera back in the box not noticing Adrien taking out his phone. The snap of a photo brings her back to reality, and he grins at her, quickly switching off his phone again.

“You won’t even show me?” she asks, raising an eyebrow at him, while trying to sneak a glance at the dark screen.

“Nope, mine now.”

“Then I’ll just have to surprise you with a picture too.”

He lifts a shoulder in a careless half-shrug, but his eyes twinkle and his smile is wide. “I guess it’s on, then.”

Two days later, his chat bubble pops up with three new messages, fired all at once.

He bought his own Polaroid—the exact same model as hers. And Marinette has a photo-date to overthink, scheduled for the next day.

2. Hymn for the Weekend

The déjà vu hits her like thunder and lightning: just a quick flash, but strong—and echoing.

It’s nothing unusual. Just her and Chat Noir at the end of their patrol. The sun is casting him in bronze and gold while the slight summer breeze is turning the moment into something ethereal.

After months of photo-dates, it’s muscle memory, really.

She takes her yoyo, turns it to him, and snaps a picture of his profile in all its glory.

He looks like a snippet of a dream that leaves Ladybug still watching the picture of him even after he turns curious eyes to her.

An eyebrow raised, a corner of his lips quirked up in the beginning of a smile.

She snaps another quick photo.

“You reminded me of a friend right there,” she says, fighting the pull of the picture and reluctantly taking her eyes off of it. Did he remind her of Adrien only after she took the picture? Did she take the picture because he reminded her of Adrien in the first place?

“How so?” he asks, raising his second eyebrow as he turns to her properly.

He makes an exaggerated sound, groaning like an old man as he pulls his legs under him and settles into a more comfortable position.

“I have this friend…” she starts, not quite knowing how to continue.

They take photos together, but it’s more than that. They go on dates, but they’re not quite dates. They spend too much time in front of Adrien’s car talking about the school day and their future plans, and it’s nothing and everything all at once.

She settles on, “We’ve been going around the city to snap pictures for a couple of months now.”

Chat Noir’s face brightens with every word, somehow.

“I didn’t know you were into photography, M’lady!”

“Yeah, I never expected to like it so much,” she admits, opening the gallery on her yoyo. The two pictures of Chat Noir greet her right at the top of her list, innocent and condemning all at once.

She’d been resisting the shy urge to take pictures with her yoyo. It’s no fun if she can’t show them to anyone. But every now and then, every time she sees a building covered in green, or an old couple holding hands, or kids being kids—every time she sees a special moment, she feels the urge to immortalize it in shiny paper and pin it in the album she’d been building.

But the most special of moments are the ones she and Adrien had been competing over—the ones only they are privy to. Sweet little smiles, sunbeams, leaves dusting their shoulders with light; a secret they’re not even aware of and which the other somehow manages to capture.

She still has pictures she hasn’t shown him, all arranged carefully in an album of their own, decorated with washi tape, and fancy markers, and little illustrations she hopes will make Adrien’s day when she finally gives the completed album to him.

And in those two pictures—in those two pictures Chat Noir is Adrien. Lost in thought and ethereally beautiful.

“I’ve been taking a lot of photos recently too,” he says, leaning forward to take a peek at her gallery.

She resists the urge to shy away and reluctantly hands him the yoyo.

“Promising profile pictures, right here,” she says, trying to change the subject. She wants to share every detail with him, yet she wants to hide away those two pictures and put them in a special frame fitting for how precious they feel.

She doesn’t really understand why they feel precious.

“And replace the masterpiece I already have?”

She shakes her head, hoping he thinks it’s a response to the meme he’s had as a profile picture ever since he’d made a Twitter account, but she’s just trying to shake off the feeling that there’s something she’s missing.

The habit seeps into their hero lives, tens of new pictures appearing on her yoyo and his baton.

Two months later she finally finds out what she was missing.

She prints out those two first photos.

One, she adds to Adrien’s album with a smile and a mischievous glint in her eyes. The other, she keeps to herself, to pin in a corner of her corkboard.

3. Best Day of My Life

Chloé could not conceive the idea that they wouldn't have a movie-worthy prom at the end of high school.

Sometimes her stubbornness truly did wonders.

She wanted a prom, so she had a prom—held in her father’s hotel, barely any different than her last birthday party.

But the photo booth is new—set up nicely in a corner, a sparkly curtain as background and a table full of props right beside.

It’s the first thing Marinette notices when she enters the room with Alya, Nino and Adrien, eyes going back to it even as Alya leads them to their table.

Chloé is impatiently tapping her foot when they get there. Her shoes make the sound carry even over the music. It’s just background noise for the moment, only loud enough to cover up the emptiness.

“Took you long enough,” she says, slightly annoyed.

Marinette turns right in time to catch her rolling her eyes, so she quirks an eyebrow as she sets down her purse on the table. She meant to say something, but her mind chose to focus entirely on the way Adrien pulled a chair for her, instead.

She sits down and hopes her makeup hides the blush she feels rising to her face as Adrien pushes her chair and takes the seat next to her.

“We aren’t even late, no one else is here yet,” Nino says, taking off his blazer and rolling his sleeves.

“Well, you’re the organizers, you’re supposed to be here early.”

Marinette is quick to respond. “You hired an entire team to make sure this runs smoothly. You didn’t let us lift a finger for this.”

Not that it affects Chloé in the slightest. “You’re the organizer’s friends, you’re supposed to be here early.”

“You got bored and told me to hurry up,” Adrien finally speaks up, snorting, but Marinette has seen his excitement.

He could barely contain it.

If Chloé hadn’t called him, he would’ve showed up early anyway. Chloé only called an hour early. He’d shown up on Marinette’s balcony even earlier, catsuit dissolving into slacks and a navy button-up, sleeves rolled up his forearms and a tie hanging undone around his neck.

He made Marinette do the knot. Then started pestering her to dress up too.

Then Chloé called and she actually did start to dress up

“My point exactly.”

“Well, we hurried up,” Alya said, pouring herself a glass of water and watching Chloé over the brim. “What now?”

“Now you wonder at my competence and then we go take pictures.”

They laugh. Because it’s their prom, and it’s like in the movies, and it’s surreal. And it’s funny, it’s so funny, how they’re here and living a moment that’s supposed to be big, and important, and big.

It’s their moment.

And, well, isn’t it? They’re alone in an enormous ballroom, and their excitement charges the air like electricity before a storm.

Marinette takes a hold of the camera hanging from her neck and takes it off with a sigh, glancing at the photo booth. “This is useless isn’t it?”

It wasn’t a burden per se. But it was still bulky enough to be slightly inconvenient. And it was one more thing to keep an eye on all night.

“Of course not,”Adrien jumps in, taking it from her hands fast enough that she doesn’t have time to react.

They’ve been doing it long enough to know what’s going to happen next.

Marinette closes her eyes, but she’s smiling.

The camera shutters and a photo comes out with a whoosh that she’s all too familiar with.

Before the first people start showing up, they’ve already hit the photo booth three times. They have complete reign over the machine, and they can pick whatever props they want.

Marinette especially loves the set of photos where all of them are wearing wigs and laughing at each other instead of paying attention to the screen.

The night is less magical than she imagined, yet somehow more. Just in a different way. There’s laughter—a lot more than she’d expected. And dancing—a lot of jumping around rather than the slow dances she’d been hoping for. And there’s their group stuffing their faces with the Dupain-Chengs’ fantastic pastries that Chloé made sure wouldn’t be missing.

Then, there’s the waltz. It’s the epitome of what she’d dreamed of—and it’s not. It’s her, and Adrien, with absolutely no space between them, laughing the whole time, as Adrien looks at her like she’s the stars and the moon, and—is it really something new? Is it not how she looks at him as well?

She dares a spark of hope, but she’s too busy enjoying the moment—being content—to really think about it or be disappointed that nothing really happens. There’s no dip and kiss at the end, there’s no dramatic confession following their clumsy attempt at being dramatic dancers.

The night is young until it isn’t, and when they go for a final round of photos after most students have already left it’s just their group again. Marinette’s feet hurt, and her cheeks hurt, but she’s happy.

She picks up a headband with antennae on top and hands Adrien one with cat ears—a subtle nod at everything they’re hiding, just for them to see and remember.

He’s holding a thin stick with a message to his chest, so close to him, she can’t see what it’s written on it, but she smiles. He returns the smile as he takes the prop from her and puts it on his head with a mischievous excitedness she simply loves.

She sets up the machine, and takes a quick look at Adrien on the screen. The countdown has already started, but he’s not looking at her, he’s looking at the message with a thoughtful expression.

She doesn't think much of it, until she’s next to him, eyes still glued to the screen, and the message is turned around for her to finally see.

It’s reversed, on the screen. Seen in the mirror. But she could read those words upside down and in a hundred languages and still know what they mean.

The count is down to one. She hears the snap of the photo, but everything is already lost to her. It’s only Adrien and the Comic Sans “I love you” he holds with a nervous expression, and his eyes—on her, only ever on her.

That first photo catches her with an open mouth and wide eyes. The second, has Adrien handing her the message—clumsily, somehow still unsure, as if she hasn’t been dreaming of that for the past too many years. The third—the third shows her with her hands on his cheeks and their eyes locked together carrying a conversation only they can understand.

And the last, gloriously big, bigger than all other three, with a fancy generic message at the bottom to remind them it’s from their prom and nowhere else—the last shows them finally, finally kissing.

4. Let’s Get Married

There are icy webs covering the locks on Pont des Arts, and stray snowflakes lingering on them when the wind doesn’t blow.

Adrien catches a picture of her looking at one before she even has the time to register what he’s doing.

His laughter fills the air with warmth when she raises her polaroid to take one of him as well.

He puts the photos safely in a bag he always carries for these dates and goes to give her a quick peck on the cheek.

The kiss was only half an excuse to get close enough to ask quietly, “Is he still there?”

A quick glance over his shoulder gives her the answer. He is. He’s barely trying to be sneaky anymore.

The man has been following them for the better part of their date—clumsily, probably a beginner, still eager for the easy money that came with intruding in a celebrity’s personal life.

After they first noticed him, they tried ignoring him.They’re not doing anything interesting, just taking photos the same way they do every month on photo-dates which have long since become tradition. But the man is persistent.

So Marinette nods and Adrien catches her hand in his with a resigned sigh. “I’m starting to doubt he’ll get bored of us.”

“You’d think he would after watching two people walk around and take pictures of random things for an hour.”

He pouts at her. “I only took pictures of you! Please, give me some credit.”

“Always, Chaton. But you should really slow down or we’ll need to buy another album before spring is even here.”

“Can’t help it when you’re the most beautiful person to walk the earth,” he says, squeezing her hand and going for a quick peck.

Eyes half lidded, she doesn’t give up. “You see me everyday.”

“And every day I thank God for that.”

The kiss they share is a proper one this time, sweet and warm, though still much too quick. For a second, they’re silent after.

“I can't wait until you’re the first thing I see in the morning,” Adrien finally says.

She can’t either, but she can’t help teasing him either way. “Bleary eyes, and morning breath, and all?”

“And messy hair and the most gorgeous eyes, yes,” he responds, giving her a wink.

She sees the moment he gets the idea. He squints the slightest bit as his eyes gleam with more mischievousness rather than love and blissfulness.

“I think I know how to deal with our stalker.”

“He does not need to know we’re moving in together.”

He laughs, because it’s absurd but because it’s still a bit surreal too. They’re doing it. They’re moving in together.

“I mean, that would work too,” he says, still chuckling. “But that’s not what I had in mind.”

She quirks an eyebrow. There’s an extremely simple solution to this, and she still feels obligated to say it—just for the sake of it, really.

“We could just continue our walk, get into the bakery like we planned and get it over with quietly.”

But.

“But where’s the fun in that, princess.”

After all, birds of a feather flock together.

So she moves her head with a curious little shake and waits for him to voice his idea. He doesn’t disappoint.

“We could give them the real big news.”

She squints her eyes. “Not even all of our friends know yet.”

“We better get around to telling everyone faster, then. The photos would take at least until tomorrow to come out though.”

And then, with his most Chat Noir smirk, he lands the killing blow. “I can make it look like an accident.”

It’s her turn to laugh.

“I’m not even wearing gloves, he might have already seen the ring.”

“I think he needs to be hand-held into taking his precious picture,” he says, raising her left hand ever so slightly and asking for permission with his eyes.

She can’t help the giddy smile on her face—she’s been wearing it almost constantly for the entire two days they’ve been engaged.

Marinette briefly entertains the idea of being responsible, but she’s too happy to think rationally. She wants to shout her happiness to the whole world, she wants to talk about his love for hours on end, she wants everyone to know, and even though they’d discussed keeping their engagement a secret, they knew they couldn’t escape it getting out with how much people still fawned over Adrien.

So she lets him raise her hand further, bringing it to his lips in a cheeky kiss that still fills her with all the warmth in the world.

Maybe the paparazzo misses that too, but they stop paying attention to him, and in the twenty minutes left until they’re back to her house, they change the subject altogether. Talking about their future wedding is much better after all.

And when, properly zoomed in and dramatically showcased, the picture of Adrien kissing her hand—her ring—makes the front page of a gossip rag the very next day, their wedding becomes the talk of a lot more people.

5. Stardust

As the confetti explodes in the air around them and the fireworks in the cake light up their faces, Marinette feels so overwhelmed with happiness she could cry.

After a year of talking, and planning, and preparing, she and Adrien are married.

Adrien’s eyes are already on her when she turns her head to him, his gaze already soft and even more loving than usual. The fireworks bring to life a spark that was always there but which now everyone can see, not just him, not just her.

Their glasses clink as they toast, and the people cheer.

They’re on top of the world.

She’s having the time of her life.

Though her feet ache, Marinette is still reluctant to take a break and just sit down.

She goes outside instead, and even though she’s not exactly inconspicuous, she’s still able to steal a moment for herself on the furthest edge of the pool outside of their venue.

She watches the fairy lights hanging above, glimmering in the still water below.

The summer night is still warm, but there are few people enjoying it. Most of the guests that haven’t left for the night yet are inside, taking advantage of the remaining moments of music and fun.

The night is beautiful, but the end of the party is looming in the calmer atmosphere and the music that only faintly reaches outside anymore.

Arms crossed lightly to her chest and eyes focused on the lights, she doesn’t notice Adrien until he gives himself away.

The telltale click of his old Polaroid going off startles her—and has her smiling.

“You’re a sight to behold, My Lady,” he says, catching the photo coming out of the camera with practiced ease and slipping it into his vest’s pocket before it even starts showing.

His sleeves are rolled up his forearms and his tie has long since been abandoned on the back of his chair. He’s glorious.

“That’s the pot calling the kettle back, Chaton.”

She lifts up the camera hanging from his neck and turns to put it away on a lounge chair nearby.

They gravitate towards each other like they always do, her arms around his neck and his around her waist the second she’s back, all the space between them lost as they embrace.

The music inside is a boppy tune from before they were even born, but it’s music, and that’s all Adrien needs to start swaying gently, with small movements of his feet that Marinette has no trouble following despite her tiredness.

They’re in their own little bubble, and Marinette wouldn’t change it for the world.

“Tired, Bugaboo?” he asks after a minute or two of rocking away in silence.

Her only response is a neutral ‘mm’, but she tears herself away from him to see him better.

The proximity makes her catch a stray sparkle in his hair and whatever she wants to say is forgotten as she focuses on that instead.

“There’s confetti in your hair,” she realizes with a chuckle.

“There is?”

She hums a confirmation, but doesn’t make any move to take it away, and neither does he. “Stardust,” she says, eyes drifting back to his.

So the confetti stays, and they keep swaying, gentle smile brightening his face more than the fairy lights.

“Maybe we should go back in,” he says after a while.

She only gets back closer and grumbles, “Too tired.”

But he picks her up with years of practice in sweeping her off her feet, and startles a squeak out of her—and a giggle.

“People will think we’ve left.”

“People can see to their dances and leave us alone for a second,” she mumbles, arms tightening around his neck, but as he starts walking back towards the venue, she gets a better idea.

Tearing herself away from his warmth for the slightest bit, she finds the confetti and takes it away. “Stardust privileges revoked,” she says, trying to tease him.

She could never beat the master.

“Only if you left me,” he whispers, the corner of his mouth going up. And rubbing his nose to hers, he puts her back down.

Later that week, Alya sends Marinette a picture with no context and no caption. It shows her beside the pool, but in the background, Adrien is carrying Marinette, faces close together and noses touching.

+1. Fireflies

Marinette looks at the muffins on the cupboard with a frown and a hand on her hip.

She’d overestimated how much vanilla they had in their kitchen.

She calls for Adrien, hoping he’d go on a shopping trip as impromptu as her baking, but there’s no response.

It doesn’t take her long to find him, but the sight she’s met with stuns her.

There are pictures everywhere, scattered on the floor and in open albums thrown carelessly around Hugo’s room, with Adrien, Hugo and Emma in the middle of their mess, completely absorbed by the stories in front of them.

Their old cameras are there too—on Hugo’s desk, proud, but dusty. It’s been so long since she’s seen them—since they’d touched them.

She couldn't even remember when they’d put them in the attic—she couldn’t even imagine what prompted Adrien to bring them down.

Her family beckon her to them when they notice her, and she decides her muffins can wait.

The realization that they let go of this hobby is bitter. They used to go out regularly for photo dates, they have so many photos they don’t even know what to do with all of them, the memories are sweet.

There are even still unopened boxes of film beside them—all expired.

As she goes back to the kitchen with Adrien in tow, she gives voice to her thoughts; the idea of buying more film and picking their polaroids up again is thrown around, although more as an abstract thing.

But soon enough, as she’s covering the muffins in whipped cream instead of the vanilla neither of them felt like buying, and Adrien stealing muffins like there’s no tomorrow, the telltale shutter of a polaroid makes them realize how much they’ve truly missed it.

Hugo, ever the spitting image of his mother, stands there with the camera in hand and his father’s grin on his face, his sister just a step behind him with the other Polaroid in tow.

“I wanted to see if they’re still working,” he says, and they’re curious too.

They fill the time needed until the photo finally shows with muffin tasting and banter, but Marinette can’t help stealing glances at the film far too often.

The final picture is tinted yellow and has black stains around the upper edges. But there they are, her and Adrien in all their glory, being as in love as they’d been as kids.

Over her shoulder, Adrien lets out a chuckle.

The next day he’s home with a bunch of new boxes of film and an excited grin on his lips.

#five time #polaroids #getting together #aged up #prom #wedding #future kids #fluff #FLUFF ALL AROUND #inspired by music #marriage proposal #slow dancing #pre-reveal #post-reveal #prpr #“my fics”#“fanfic”#miraculous ladybug

20 notes · View notes

astaroth1357 · 4 years ago

Note

I don’t know if this’ll make the cut, but brothers with an MC wearing their (the brothers) clothes, and I’m talking full ensemble not just a random jacket or accessory (you can delete if you’re not comfortable of course)

So when left with the question of whether this was a full on clothing theft or a cosplay of some kind, I'm going with theft because that's just funnier to me. Just a little MC marching around in Beel's tent of an outfit… Hilarious. 🤭

MC Steals the Brothers’ Outfits

Lucifer

It started out like any other morning, Lucifer woke up early in bed - as he always does - but when he rolled onto his side to stir the MC, he found their side of the bed empty…

Normally, he’d have thrown up the alarm in an instant, but his mind was still groggy as he tried to recall what happened the night before… He could have sworn the MC slept over… unless…

MC: “Good morning, love.”

Their voice was enough to get him sitting up again and he uh… well he was not prepared for what he saw. The MC was sitting with their legs crossed at his desk, attempting to imitate his “I’m-in-Complete-Control-Here” energy as much as they possibly could, but with an added detail…

They were wearing his clothes. His favorite suit to be specific which was tailored to his much bigger frame, resulting in a frankly ridiculously ill-fitting look on their smaller human body...

MC: *picks up a poisoned apple off the desk, continuing their very best Lucifer-impression* “You should get up, love. We have an early meeting today and we can’t keep Lord Diavolo waiting.”

The MC appeared to polish the apple with his sleeve for a moment before taking a bite, looking pleased with themselves before their eyes widened in complete horror. It only took a split second for them to spit the unchewed hunk of apple into a nearby waste basket and toss the apple away in panic.

MC: “Ah FUCK!! I forgot I can’t eat these!!! SHIT!!”

Their panic only grew as Lucifer could no longer hold in his laughter, the booming volume of which is enough to wake up all his brothers throughout the House.

MC: “Lucifer, don’t just sit there laughing!! Bring me some water or something!!! LUCIFER!!!”

Mammon

Look, Mammon always gets up late so not being able to find, like, any of his normal clothes was a serious problem! He’d already dug through half his closest and still couldn’t find anything!!

He had a photoshoot that he had to get to in less than hour and he still needed to take a shower, get dressed, get his stuff together, then bolt halfway across town before-

MC: *literally kicks open his door Kuzco-style* “Yo, yo, yo!! What’s up, Mammon??”

First off, the sudden loud bang of his door hitting the wall nearly scared him out of his skin, but before he could even yell at the MC for their weird entrance his brain had to process what they were wearing….

Good news! He found his missing clothes, the MC had thrown them on while he was sleeping - sunglasses and all - and now stood before him with a toothy grin on their face.

MC: “What's the problem, Mams? Lucifer got your tongu-EEEK!”

Apparently, they weren't expecting Mammon to literally lunge at them and capture them in a tight hug, practically lifting them off their feet with a laugh.

Mammon: “What'cha think your doin', MC?? I'm gonna need those back ya know?”

MC: *laughs loud and bright, throwing their arms around his neck* “I know, I know... But I wanted to surprise you!” *stops laughing suddenly and blinks* “Huh…”

Mammon watched the MC experimentally lift his glasses off their nose then put them back down, repeating the action several times before snickering.

Mammon: *frowns* “What's so funny?”

MC: “Nothing really but… Mammon, do you wear these just to make everything look like gold?”

Mammon actually had to pause before responding, pulling the MC closer with a devilish grin.

Mammon: “Nah… I ‘cause got all the gold I need right here~”

MC: *chuckles and nuzzles his cheek* “Nice save...”

Mammon: *his cheeks flush and he frowns* “I dunno what your talkin’ about... But could ya go put on a t-shirt or somethin’? They’re paying me big for this shoot and I really gotta go!”

Leviathan

Another convention, another cosplay far too complex to ever hope to peel out of… Though Levi would never regret wearing his five piece Lord of Shadow cosplay, it’s a heavy thing and certainly not something he can change out of in a bathroom stall…

When he finally got back to the House, he wasn’t looking to do anything but drag his tired body back to his room and change into some more manageable clothes… but… well…

When Levi opened his door, he saw the MC sitting alone at his computer desk playing a game by themselves. That was all well and good but… WHY IN DIAVOLO’S BLACK HELL ARE THEY WEARING HIS CLOTHES???

When they heard the door, the MC whipped their head back and they both stared at each other in an awkward silence… His clothes didn’t even fit them right!-or maybe they did?? His mind was panicking because they had the collar of his shirt covering their mouth and it looked so moe it was actually ridiculous!

Levi: ……….

MC: ………….

MC: …. “I can explain.”

Levi: ……. “Y-yea?”

MC: “I was having trouble on this one level and you wouldn’t pick up the phone… so I thought ‘What would Levi do?’... and it escalated…”

Levi: “You think??”

Levi felt like he could die right there, but he wasn’t entirely sure if it was from embarrassment or happiness… On the one hand, the MC was literally trying to be him in order to get better at video games - which was flatteringly adorable… And on the other, the MC is pretty much cosplaying as him, right in front of him… and looked so damn cute doing it too…

MC: “Is this weird…? This is weird. I’m sorry, I’ll go change-”

Levi: NO-agh! *he throws a hand over his own mouth, surprised by how loud he just shouted* … “U-uh… no it’s fine…”

MC: “Okay...?”

MC: “But could you put your phone down? I think you’ve been taking pictures for the past two minutes…”

Levi looked down at his hand and sure enough he unconsciously pulled out his phone in camera mode and has been spamming the “Capture” button long enough to have his thumb cramping...

Levi: “Oh.” *stops for a moment, then seems to second guess himself*

Levi: “Uh… just one more?”

Satan

When you share a house with Mammon, you grow accustomed to not being able to find things from time to time, but an entire outfit??

When he woke up one morning to find that he couldn't find any of his normal clothes, he blamed Mammon right off the bat…

I guess in hindsight, what would Mammon want with his jacket? But anger doesn't always jump to the most rational conclusion, you know?

After searching for "long enough," Satan stormed out of his bedroom on a warpath. He didn't stop his march until he was banging on Mammon’s door with a closed fist!

Satan: “Mammon!! What did you do with my clothes you useless, money-grubbing asshole!?”

When he didn’t get a reply, likely because Mammon was hiding in his closet or something, he was about to kick the door in when he felt a tap on his shoulder...

When he turned his head, much to his surprise, he found his missing clothes!... They were on the MC - right down to the single sleeve - and the MC met his eyes with a mischievous grin…

They had a book in their hands he recalled seeing once at the library: "101 Ways to Prank Your Partner," open like they'd been reading down the hallway.

MC: … Page 47.

They winked at him before bolting back down the hallway in a fit of giggles and oooh, it was on now.

Satan spent the morning chasing the MC through the House, both laughing and dashing around in reckless abandon. He really needed his clothes back and he wouldn’t mind an extra hour or two with the MC when he got them… 😏

Asmodeus

Asmo isn’t exactly a morning person… Though he forces himself awake so he can perform his wake-up routine, by the time he comes to the table it’s a hit-or-miss on how irritable he’s going to be...

Of course, his favorite outfit suddenly disappearing from his massive closet did not help his mood in the slightest!

Who would take his clothes?? Well, that’s not even a question - surely plenty of his devoted, adoring stans would kill to even have his scarf, so maybe the better question was, “How??” Lucifer keeps all the doors and windows magically sealed at night! (He would know, having been locked out on numerous occasions)

Asmo was tearing through his closet, wracking his brain for any place he might have left his beloved outfit, before he heard someone clear their throat by his bedroom door.

What greeted him was a lovely look at the MC wearing the missing clothing in question, even with all the grace and style he would himself!

Asmo: *jaw-drops* “MC???”

MC: *smirks at his delight and winks at him* “Looking for something?”

They strutted into the room with the confidence of a mock fashion model and took a silly vogue pose in front of the closet, barely holding in a fit of laughter from their actions.

MC: “… Or just at me?”

Asmo, of course, snatched them right up in his arms with a delighted squeal.

Asmo: “Oh. My. Diavolo!! MC, you look just gorgeous!!!- Because you look like me, of course.” 🤭

MC: *laughs and cups his cheeks to pull him closer* “Who wouldn't want to be you, Asmo?”

Asmo: “So true… But you’re already perfect, my love~” 😘

And he went on to prove that to them all morning long...

Beelzebub

Beel didn't even get the chance to notice his clothes were missing. He had a tournament the night before and was sleeping even harder than Belphie that morning...

What woke him up was the smell of food: scrambled shadowhawk eggs, hellboar bacon, pancakes with nightshade syrup….

Beel's stomach had him sitting up long before his eyes ever opened, drawn in by his nose alone.

MC: “Beeeeel. Wake up!”

Beel's eyes dragged open at their request and what he found had his mouth watering... The MC had brought him a dining cart with a complete breakfast spread, brimming with portions only Beel could ever finish, but for once he wasn’t looking at the food.

The MC, for whatever reason, had decided to put on his clothes… And keep in mind that Beel's built like an ox compared to almost anybody. They were absolutely swimming under all that fabric (thank the Devil for his suspenders…)

MC: “Congratulations!!!”

They throw their arms up excitedly, making the unzipped jacket balloon out like a parachute behind them… It's a remarkably cute image.

Beel: *blinks* “Oh.” *he gets a little pink, still very confused* “What did I do exactly…?”

MC: “You won the championship last night, remember? Or did you forget already??”

The MC takes a step to the side and begins pointing at the plates on the cart.

MC: “I thought we'd celebrate with some breakfast! I brought you eggs, bacon, pancakes, toast, cereal-”

As they continued their list, Beel's hand naturally reached out towards the cart eagerly, before something finally clicked in his head. WHY were they wearing his clothes??

Beel: “Wait. MC, why are you wearing-...?”

MC *holds their hand up* “Hold on!”

MC: “-oatmeal, muffins, banana bread, annnd…” *they get onto the bed and plop down onto his lap with a grin*

MC: “Me! Congratulations, Beel!!”

They lean up to peck his cheek while his arms automatically wind around their waist. The combination of their scents already bringing out a different sort of hunger in him…

Let’s say if this is his reward, he'll never lose a game again. 😏

Belphegor

Belphie was in the middle of his afterschool nap in the library. The day was exhausting, so he didn’t even bother changing uniforms… The couches there were comfortable and the space was quiet, really nothing should have woken him up...

But somehow, for whatever reason, something did. A tug… Something was chasing away his dreams by tugging on the cow pillow in his arms.

MC: “Beeelllppphie….”

The tugging did not cease and he half growled in response, still keeping his eyes firmly closed.

Belphie: “What now...?”

MC: “I need this…” *they tug on the corner of the pillow a little harder* “Can you let go please…?”

What kind of question is that?? No one takes away his favorite pillow!

Belphie: *hugs the pillow tighter* “Go away, I'm trying to nap…”

MC: “Noooo please…! I need it for something right now…!!”

They started really pulling on his pillow now and he only held on tighter in annoyance. Since they wouldn’t leave him alone, he finally opened his eyes.

Belphie: “MC! Why are… you..?”

His voice trailed off as he finally saw the MC standing there in his usual outfit. His cardigan was so long over their arms that they had to grasp his pillow through its sleeves...

While his drowsy mind tried to catch up, the MC snatched the pillow from his grasp with one swift yank.

MC: *grins* “Mine now!”

They turned to bolt out of the library, but Belphie snatched them by the waist and dragged them back to the couch with him.

Belphie: “Fine, but then I get a new pillow.” 😏

The MC yelped as he flopped on top of them, pulling them close like a body pillow and resting his head into the crook of their neck to enjoy the soothing smell of their scent mixed with his.

MC: “W-wait Belphie…!” *tries to wiggle out from under his surprisingly heavy deadweight* “I was just playing around…! Please don't fall asleep on me!!”

Belphie: *yawns and settles in, already drifting off* “Too late… G'night, MC…”

MC: “Belphie!!!” 😫

They could complain all they liked, he wasn’t going to let them go for a few hours. Cute or not, MC, nobody takes his pillow!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #obey me requests

3K notes · View notes

wrenqueenisboss · 3 years ago

Text

Toxic Fake Heartbreak - cc!dream x f!reader

Table of contents - masterlist

Dream - masterlist

warnings: toxic relationship, mentions of yelling, crying pronouns: you/yours, fem reader words: 913 summary: just some toxic relationship angst with dream! based on the teaser I posted last night.

~-~-~-

Dream had his heart broken once. it left him crying for weeks. from that moment on, he vowed never to have his heart broken again.

He was twenty, sitting on his kitchen floor, sobbing. He'd been dating someone who he thought was the love of his life for three years. And just in one night, everything had crumbled. Crashed and burned. The girl had been cheating for five months, and he had only just found out.

As another anguished sob tore through his body, he vowed never to love again. This heartbreak was too painful. It frankly didn't seem worth it anymore.

~-~-~-

You were a heartbreaker. you had fun playing with peoples' feelings

You laughed to yourself as you sent your savage reply. For a week, you had led this poor boy on, made him think he had a chance. No one had a chance with you.

It was just too much fun breaking people's hearts. A committed relationship seemed boring. Toying with heartstrings was exciting, though. Soon, you had built up quite the reputation.

~-~-~-

The two of you were the most toxic match. For the fans and the press, it was the almost impossible opposites-attract story. for the two of you, it was hell

The internet broke when the first picture was posted. You were kissing Dream's cheek. Your ship name was trending on twitter for a whole week. No one expected the most popular Minecraft YouTuber and the internet's current fashion icon to get in a relationship.

Sure, you two had been flirting online for a while, which definitely sparked serious rumors. But no one actually expected their crazy ship to become reality. Neither did you two, but it was good for PR. And, Dream was hot. He thought you were too.

You both posted carefully-crafted pictures, advertising your non-existent Disney relationship. You posted the week's picture. You walked downstairs. Within a few minutes, you both were screaming.

Fights were normal now, but your public image was flawless. No one knew about how toxic your "perfect" relationship actually was.

~-~-~-

Something changed, though. Maybe you had truly fallen in love at one point. The internet noticed.

You both had gotten tired of the arguments. Tired of pretending. It was the first time you had let down your guard around Dream- the first time he was vulnerable around you.

The internet had started to notice that the little moments the paparazzi captured looked softer, more genuine.

It was a lunch "date" that you two had planned to be interrupted by paparazzi. Another PR boost. But when he kissed you as the camera's flashed, you felt something spark in your cold heart.

You found yourself scared, one night. Staring at the waning moon as you realized just how far you had fallen.

What happened to the girl that once broke hearts without a care?

~-~-~-

You two had truly fallen in love. Dream was too cautious and you were too crazy. He wanted safety, you wanted adventure.

Dream had fallen for you too. The internet began to ask when the wedding would take place. They had no idea that this was the first time their "Fairytale Couple" actually meant the kisses they shared.

You wanted to travel the world, jump off waterfalls, stand on the edges of beautiful cliffs. Dream wanted to share quiet moments in front of fireplaces. He wanted to stay at home with you.

One wanted adventure, the other wanted safety.

But opposites attract... right?

~-~-~-

A dangerous, volatile match but you made it work- until dream decided to flip all that around.

You cried that night. It was your first fight since you had first let your hatred dissolve.

The screaming match in the kitchen had lasted for so long. At first it was silly. Still yelling, but it was about something so stupid you couldn't even remember.

But Dream made it personal. He spit back a retort that made a crack in your heart. You had no idea that with a simple sentence, you'd be left crying, alone, in your car.

Thank god there were no paparazzi that day.

~-~-~-

Dream had his heart broken once. It left him crying for weeks. Now he breaks others' hearts. Mainly yours.

You screamed at him, ripping off his hoodie and throwing it at his face. He had been seeing someone else, you discovered last night. A text notification had popped up on his phone at dinner. It ruined everything.

Not even apologizing, Dream left your house and you were left standing there, sobbing and shivering. The house was always cold. You preferred to wear his warm hoodies over yours.

That definitely wasn't going to happen anymore.

Three weeks later, the press had come out with a new story.

You scoffed to yourself after you read it. Dream had broken your heart when he cheated on you. Then, he had gone and broken that girl's heart too- dumped her without warning.

~-~-~-

You were a heartbreaker. You had fun playing with peoples' feelings. Now you're the heartbroken. Your feelings were played with.

You were seated calmly, waiting to answer the question that the interviewer had just asked. It had been a month since your rollercoaster of a relationship with Dream had blown up in your face. This was your first interview since the whole situation.

Everyone just wanted to know your thoughts. Of course, that was the first question. You answered honestly, just done with all of the lies.

That's all it was, anyway: toxic, fake, heartbreak.

~-~-~-

Taglist: (send an ask to be added)

@graymoon2 @allywritesforfun @pixviepie @cloudslostlibrary @toodeepintofandoms @meimeihershey @ghostofscarley @icarusthefoolish @dukina

#mcyt #dsmp #mcyt x reader #dsmp x reader #mcyt x y/n #dreamwastaken #dream #dream x reader #dreamwastaken x reader #dream x reader angst #dream x y/n #mcyt x you #dsmp x y/n #dsmp x you #wren_queen stuff #wrenqueenisboss

122 notes · View notes

storiesforallfandoms · 3 years ago

Text

pose ~ pete davidson

word count: 1418

request?: yes!

“Hello!! Could you do a Pete fic where the reader is a photographer, they are doing a photoshoot and Pete keeps flirting with her throughout the photoshoot. She brushes this off and continues as normal, but after the shoot they keep running into each other and one day he asks her out on a date and she says yes. Please? Sorry if this doesn't make sense”

description: in which her flirtiest subject runs into her weeks later and decides to finally make a move

pairing: pete davidson x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

The interviewer kept trying to ask Pete questions, but he kept getting distracted by the photographer who was taking his picture for the article. She was a beautiful young woman who was so engrossed in her work that it made her ten times more attractive to Pete.

“Mr. Davidson,” the interviewer said, the annoyed edge evident in her voice.

Pete dragged his attention from the photographer, a dopey smile on his face that he knew no one could be upset at. Seeing a fantastic photograph opportunity in this, the photographer quickly snapped another shot.

“What was the question?” Pete asked.

The interviewer sighed and shook her head. “Let’s just finish the photographs and finish the interview back in my office.”

“I think we should be good on photographs, actually,” the photographer said. “I got a lot of good ones if you two want to look at them.”

“Wait, I have a great one to finish with,” Pete said.

He turned his back to the photographer and dramatically stuck his butt out. He twitched towards the camera and made a pouty face, putting his finger to his lips. The photographer giggled and took a snap of Pete’s ridiculous pose.

“(Y/N),” the interviewer snapped, “don’t take a picture, that’s unprofessional.”

“I’m not seriously sending it to be used,” (Y/N) said. “It’s just a funny picture.”

“I don’t care, delete it.”

The interviewer stood and walked back to her office, not even asking Pete to follow her. He looked back to (Y/N) to see her face was flushed and she looked a mixture of upset and angry.

“Don’t actually delete it,” Pete said. “I want to see it.”

(Y/N) brought the picture up on her camera and showed it to Pete. “It’s just the rough copy so it’s sort of lame. With the fancy magazine editing it would look really cool.”

“I think it looks great as it is,” Pete assured her. “I’d love to have a copy sent to me.”

“My boss would freak if I did.” Her eyes flicked to the door where the interviewer had just walked away. Pete could see the frustration in her eyes and guessed that this wasn’t the first time (Y/N) had been verbally berated by her.

“I’m sorry you go through that,” Pete said.

She shook her head and waved away Pete’s apology. “Don’t be. I’ve gotten used to it. Doesn’t make it any less infuriating whenever she gets angry for stupid reasons, but it happens.”

“You don’t deserve to be talked to like that, though. You seem very professional, and even that goofy picture you took of me looks incredible.”

(Y/N) smiled and shyly looked down at her camera, unsure how to respond to his compliment.

“You’re also extremely beautiful, but that’s neither here nor there in regards to photography.”

(Y/N) giggled at this.

“You should go finish the interview. Her royal bitch will be waiting for you,” she told him.

Pete didn’t want to leave. He wanted to keep talking to (Y/N), and he really wanted to ask her out on a date. In a very uncharacteristic way for Pete, he found himself too nervous to do so and instead left with a lame “See you around”. The minute he walked out the doors of the studio they had been taking pictures in, he regretted his decision, but continued to the office of the interviewer so he could finally get it done and over with.

~~~~~~

A few weeks later, the article had been published and, unsurprisingly, had blown up massively. It was one of the first interviews that Pete had done that got really deep, and he had talked about a lot of things he had never really publicly discussed before. He fans were eating it up and talking about it non-stop. Pete was happy it had gained such positive traction, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the photographer.

He was in his favorite coffee spot, waiting for his order before running off to work, when the bell over the door rang to signal someone had walked in. Pete glanced up from his phone a moment before looking back down, but then did a quick double take when he realized he recognized the woman who had just walked in.

“Hey! (Y/N)!”

(Y/N), who had also been distracted by something on her phone, looked up to see Pete approaching her. She smiled as she pulled out the one headphone she had in her hear.

“Hey Pete!” she said. “How are you?”

“I’m good, I’m good. How are you?”

“Doing great! I have a job offer with a bigger photography company than the one I was working for. I’m heading there after here actually.”

“Holy shit, that’s amazing!”

“Yeah, well I kinda have you to thank for that. They were impressed with the pictures I took for your article and reached out to offer me the job.”

“That must’ve been a saving grace from the wrath that was your boss. When I saw you had included the goofy picture I could only imagine how angry she must’ve been.”

(Y/N) smirked, the memory of her boss’ face, tomato red with anger, after seeing the silly picture taken of Pete in her “very serious” article.

“It was actually the editor’s choice,” she told him. “When I submitted the pictures I had taken, I had included that one by mistake. But the editor loved it. He said that it showcased more of your personality than just your super serious side. He was so insistent on having the picture in the article that he even threatened to take my boss’ name out of the credits if she continued to throw her hissy fit.”

Pete whistled. “That’s brutal. She must’ve loved that.”

“She practically had steam coming out of her ears for a week. She tried to punish me by having one of our other photographers follow her for her next article, but my editor just paired me up with another of our journalists who is much nicer. And now I have this job offer anyways, so there’s really no lose here for me.”

“Well I’m really happy for you. You deserve a place that’s really going to understand your talent and appreciate you for all you do.”

(Y/N) smiled warmly at Pete. She had also been thinking about him a lot since their first encounter. There had been a few times where she almost asked her boss if she know how (Y/N) could get in contact with Pete, but realized that would likely be a bad idea considering her boss basically already hated her.

The cashier called for the next person in line, which was (Y/N). As she stepped forward to place an order, Pete’s name (or rather his fake name as not to be recognized when out in public) was called. He went to collect his coffee and turned back to (Y/N), who had stepped aside to wait for her own. She was looking up at him, almost expectantly.

Before he could stop himself, Pete blurted, “Do you wanna go out some time?”

(Y/N) nearly sighed with relief when he finally said the words. She nodded quickly and took Pete’s hand in her own. She pulled a pen from her bag and wrote her number on his hand.

“Very middle school of you,” Pete teased.

“That’s what makes it so adorable,” (Y/N) responded. “Text me later, we can figure out a time and date. Preferably sometime soon if you’d like.”

“If it were up to me I’d be taking you out right now.”

(Y/N) giggled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and looked down at her shoes. “Tempting, but I do have to go for that job interview.”

“How about after that? We can go out to celebrate you getting that super awesome job that you deserve.”

“What if I don’t get it?”

“Impossible, but if that happens then we’ll go out and get fucked up so you forget about the interview instead.”

(Y/N) chuckled. “Okay, sounds like a plan.”

Her name was called before Pete could say anything else. She grabbed her coffee and waved goodbye to Pete, calling, “See you later, Pete!” over her shoulder as she walked out the coffee shop door.

Pete had to stop himself from happy dancing in the middle of the shop in front of so many people, but inside he was already celebrating his own little win.

#Pete Davidson #pete davidson imagine #pete davidson x reader #imagine #one shot #requests #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

441 notes · View notes

machifuwa · 2 years ago

Text

We Who Don't Learn | Epilogue 2

𝗝𝘂𝗻: GODDAMN ...There's something annoying about the fact that it's basically a ton of project, but sometimes student exchanges occur normally.

I felt like I was being completely and utterly driven by someone else's agenda.

𝗝𝗶𝗻: Haha. That's what this project was about in the first place. Especially in my time, it was hard to see the private side of idols.

That's why. When we show them the 'normal' side of us that they can relate to on programmes like this, they're overjoyed.

That's the secret to the popularity of the former "Bankara Academy".

It was one of the few places where we could claim that we're not gods or anything, we're human beings just like everyone else. People would love us even more.

The days of believing in a beautiful and precious God are long gone.

We're still learning, watching each other struggle through the mud and not losing our sparkle.

𝗝𝘂𝗻: You're saying such reasonable and good things but your drinking right now is ruining it!

𝗝𝗶𝗻: Eh~? Let me do my thing~ I've been on this project for too long, I'm out of alcohol, and I'm at my limit~

Ah and later, I'll ask the staff to put a mosaic on me.

𝗝𝘂𝗻: Don't show yourself in front of the camera talking like that! How much do you want to disappoint your former fans, Jin Sagami!?

𝗝𝗶𝗻: I'm just exposing the bare bones of me, true to the concept of a reality show!

It's always tough being an idol because there are so many more rules to follow than there are for normal people.

Even in the live-action adaptations of bad cartoons, they obey the legal speed limit and drink tea instead of alcohol.

It's a terrible deception, though. If we break it, we'll be out of the 'normal' in a bad way.

I'm still unsympathetic and never loved.

I'm a role model, and you guys can learn from that. Yeah. Here, have a drink.

𝗝𝘂𝗻: Banish this guy already! Seriously, why is no one taking this guy!?

𝗝𝗶𝗻: Haha. You guys might not understand this, but most of the people who are attracted to the word 'youth' are old people who have already gone through the process of youth.

I feel a bit sorry for you who have to waste your youth on an old man who just wants to be nostalgic.

I used to devote everything to my idol days. Family reunions, my silly but happy and joyful youth.

For me, my time at "Bankara Academy", despite all the deceptions, was a proper adolescence. I did a lot of stupid, normal high-school boys' stuff.

When I hear the word youth, I think of my time at "Bankara Academy".

Apart from that, I only have memories of school life, of acting like a manzai duo with Akiyan.

𝗝𝘂𝗻: Hmm. So that's how you usually felt about it, and that's why you were helping to organise the "Bankara Academy" this time.

𝗝𝗶𝗻: Yep. I'm one of those old farts everywhere who misses his youth♪

Times have changed. I'm sure you guys have a much healthier and more correct youth than we do, but...

I hope that the times you spent at "Bankara Academy" with people your own age, having a lot of fun, will be a happy memory of your youth.

Sensei will do whatever he can to make that happen.

𝗝𝘂𝗻: Don't say teacherly things as if you remember. Especially while drinking.

𝗝𝗶𝗻: Sorry for being a bad teacher~♪

𝗝𝘂𝗻: You may be a bad teacher, but at least let me believe that you are a respectable idol~?

Anyways, it's too bad my fucking father lost out after you kicked him down the road.

𝗝𝗶𝗻: It's just a matter of time. One thing I can tell you is that idols who are disliked by the brass and the staff don't make it big.

I'm not saying you have to sell your charms, but at the very least, you should fulfil the role you've been given. If you do that, you can usually get by.

I guess I didn't have any outstanding talent compared to others, but the fact that I was called a Super Idol was proof of that.

I've just been serious, dedicated, and kept up the act that was required of me.

𝗝𝘂𝗻: I'm really surprised of how convincing you are right now.

But that just means I don't have anything to worry about, right, "Sagami-sensei"?

I learned the skills of an idol and the etiquette of an idol from you.

So. I won't fail like you, I'll succeed like you.

So you gotta watch it, Jin Sagami.

𝗝𝗶𝗻: Ooh~! Good luck, good luck, lad♪

I'll be watching over your short and irreplaceable youth with pleasure.

That's how I'm going to enjoy the rest of my life as an idol.

Thank you everyone for reading my translation! It's my first time translating something this long but I'm really glad it turned out fine, thank you everyone for supporting me! I'll continue to post more translations in the future! Bankara Graffiti is such a good story. Can't wait for Kohakun to actually go to school tho~

◀ Prev | All ■

#ensemble stars #enstars #jun sazanami #jin sagami

24 notes · View notes

goldencaravel · 3 years ago

Text

baby fever

while filming jake’s masterclass he has an epiphany

warnings | none, just fluff

word count: 623

Today Jake was filming his portion of the masterclass series. You loved seeing him in front of the camera because it brought out a different side of him. “Oliver Fucking Reed” is what he liked to call himself. This alter ego was loud and rambunctious, much different than Jake off camera. It was nice to see him let loose and enjoy himself.

While Paige and Josh were setting up, you wandered around and grabbed a drink. By the time you got back they had just started filming. Jake, or “Oliver Reed”, was going on and on about things you did not even understand. You just giggled behind the camera and watched him do his thing. After he breaks character, you quickly make a trip to the restroom because you could not imagine missing a single thing. As you walk out, the faint sound of a baby’s giggle can be heard through the hallway. Confused, you slowly peek your head around the corner to see Josh making silly faces, although to who you couldn’t tell. Your smile widens when you realize Josh is making faces to the baby sitting in Jake’s lap.

Jake was always so good with kids it warmed your heart. After a few more seconds of talking, he makes eye contact with you through his sunglasses with a smirk and your stomach drops. You couldn’t identify what made you feel like this. Was it just your normal feelings for Jake? Or was it you picturing Jake as a dad? Oh god Jake as a dad, you thought as a smile crept on your face. Your thought was interrupted by Jake dancing off the screen coming to meet you with a hug. “I wanna talk to you” Jake says softly, kissing your temple. Your heart starts beating rapidly. You hated when he asked that, although it was never anything bad.

He finds a place for both of you to sit and grabs your hands. “Sweetie, it’s going to be hard to take you seriously with this on” you laugh while tugging on his fake beard. “Okay fine” he says as he slowly tears it off, wincing as he gets to the top of his lip. He reaches for your hands again and his smile fades. “I want to try for a baby” he expresses in the most serious tone. Your eyes widen and your heart stops. Thoughts run through your head a mile a minute. You were never fond of the thought of having kids, but to be honest, dating Jake changed that. Jake would be an amazing dad, he had such a way with kids it blew your mind. He snaps you back into reality by lightly tapping your hands still intertwined, “babe”. With a smile you ask “what brings this up all of a sudden”? “I have always pictured the rest of my life with you, you know” he say cheekily, dropping his head with a smile. “And with a baby unexpectedly getting thrown on my lap while filming. I came to the realization I want a little Jakey Jr.”. You smile widely just at the thought of a little baby Jake, all the mannerisms, the curly hair, the eventual love for music. “I feel we’ve gotten to the point in our relationship and in our life where I’m ready to start my future with you” he says in the most sincere tone you’ve ever heard him speak. “Baby you haven’t said much” he says while cupping your cheek, “so what do you say”. With tears of joy in your eyes, you excitedly shout “let’s do it!” and jump into Jake’s arms as he swirls you around. The rest of your life is beginning with the man of your dreams.

#sam kiszka #josh kiszka #jake kiszka #greta van fleet #gvf #gretavanfleet

48 notes · View notes

mammons-tax-returns · 4 years ago

Text

comforting you about your body insecurities pt. 1

beelzebub, mammon, lucifer

:) ! first post back!! (rest of the brothers coming later)

🧋MALE MC🧋

Lucifer is a very attentive demon, despite being busy with his nose shoved in a stack of papers around the clock

He really does find you wonderful, both just to relax with and to admire.

And he’s known that you piqued his interest ever since you appeared before him in the stuco room. And this is LUCIFER. He normally doesn’t give any human a second glance. Unless ur some powerful and dangerously talented sorcerer with white hair 🤧but that aside

Tonight, he gets a break from Diavolo’s workload because there is yet another ball being held at the castle.

He sprays a faint but expensive cologne on his skin, quietly hoping that you would like and comment on it so he could respond with some flirty line. That would be nice, he thinks.

Then, he’s taking long strides leading out of his bedroom, and heading over to yours beside the kitchen, where he hears his siblings bickering over the best fruit.

He knocks on the door first, waiting for a response that never comes. He only hears your favorite song from within.

He calls your name, only becoming more confused the longer the silence grows

When he pushes open the door, he’s nearly relieved to see you standing in front of the body mirror, fixing the the collar of your outfit. You turn to look at him offer a smile. “Hey, Luci. You’re punctual, as usual.”

He hums under his breath in response. A silent “i know”. He pads over to you, placing a hand on your hip affectionately. “You look good enough to eat, handsome. Asmodeus may have his moments but he certainly knows how to dress anyone with anything.”

You look at your own eyes in the reflection, not able to respond entirely. Lucifer means well, you’re sure of it. He doesn’t know that the past hour of preparation for the ball was spent scowling at the parts of you that you could never quite enjoy entirely.

Lucifer looks questioningly at your expression from the mirror. “y/n? Is something the matter?”

At that, you snap back to reality and look back at him. “Huh? Oh... Right— Sorry, I just,” you trail off, at a loss for words. Was this the right time to mention your thoughts, before a ball? “It’s nothing, just lost in my thoughts, I suppose.”

Lucifer’s eyebrows knit in the way that they tend to do when he worries. “Mind sharing? I’d love to sit and listen.” His hands slide around your waist until he’s hugging you, and you catch a whiff of his cologne which makes you melt. Once again you wonder if this relationship was something you deserved.

“Luci...”

“Don’t give me that, lovely. I said I’d like to listen, no?” As you turn your head away, he takes the opportunity to rest his head on the crook of your neck.

You sigh, smiling hopelessly. You hate to admit it, but his response makes you feel jittery on the inside. “It’s silly really, I just wasn’t feeling myself just now. The clothes are amazing! But...” You know exactly what you’ll say next, but the words feel venomous in your mouth. “I’m wondering if Asmodeus understands how wasteful it is to put them on me, you know?”

Lucifer is at a loss, and his heart aches at your words. “Oh dear... Well that’s no good. I can’t have my gorgeous lover worrying himself over something that’s so far from the truth.”

You are already aware that Lucifer will always support you no matter what, and the thought is both heart warming and bothersome. “Yeah, yeah, Lucifer... I’ve heard it all alr-“

“Then what do you not understand?” Lucifer cuts you off promptly and confidently. “Do you really believe that I’d sugarcoat this? Anything?”

You swallow thickly. “N-... No. You wouldn’t...”

“Good. That’s a good response.” He places a sweet kiss on your cheek, ruby eyes flitting up to your own gaze in the mirror. “I’m almost afraid of other demons trying to steal you away in such a dashing outfit, to be honest. Enjoy yourself, but if any of my brothers try anything, I swear...”

You laugh a little, running a free hand through his hair and noting how he almost sinks into your touch. Almost like a cat. “Thank you, Lucifer. For everything.”

Lucifer kisses your hand softly. “You are perfection, darling.”

You look forward to slow dancing alongside the eldest brother now, losing yourself in the music. Lucifer was right, there was really nothing to worry yourself over.

Mammon, unfortunately, had to cancel date night plans for the weekend for a modeling gig.

You were disappointed, but not mad at him. He told you in advance, offered to make up for it, and usually tries his best to uphold his promises.

He offers to bring you with him, guilty at the thought of your alone in your room.

You don’t know whether to accept it or not. Would you fit in on a set full of gorgeous, picture-perfect demons?

Mammon has his hand on the back of his neck, nervous that you’re too angry at him to want to say yes.

To his delight, you smile and agree to go with him. Maybe, this way, he can avoid others flirting with him when they know that his boyfriend would be in the room.

At first, it makes you feel a little bit happier seeing Mammon light up with joy after seeing him pout like a puppy moments ago.

The day has come that you step onto the modeling floor. The photographers and staff know you well due to Mammon’s insistent bragging about you and your relationship. Clutching your D.D.D. anxiously, you make your way over to Mammon, who is already posing for a camera under bright studio lights.

You keep to the shadows as you watch him intently. Mammon is well known for his idiocy, but he is one handsome devil.

The evil snickering of two demons sound behind you, to which you ignore. You were too nervous to actually move, anyways.

Whatever... It doesn’t concern me... Right?

The giggles don’t stop, and you can’t help but listen in on their whispers. It sounds as if they purposely spoke louder than normal just to bother you.

“Look at how his eyes are shining... Obsessed with Mammon, much?” Oh boy. It really seems like they’re talking about...

“Let’s talk about those clothes, though... Are you kidding me... Does the human world really have that low of standards— or is this the bottom of the barrel.” At that, the two burst into a fit of cackles.

Luckily, a photographer hisses at them, irritated with the noise breaking his concentration. They quiet down, but continue to berate you in ways you had never even considered.

You’re sweating bullets now, itching to use your hand to wipe the oncoming tears of embarrassment. You blink them away, and don’t notice that your boyfriend is now finished with his shoot.

You tense upon seeing him speaking to the camera tech. Your heart nearly jumps out of your throat. The last thing you needed was him seeing you cry right now. He’d be worried sick.

Not even bothering to excuse yourself, you slip into the bathroom and can only focus on the laughter of the other demons behind you. The sound causes you to shake slightly as you shut the door behind you.

There is more than one stall, so you briefly worry that someone would come in and find you bawling your eyes out in the middle of a semi-professional setting. You sigh heavily and turn the sink on to wash your face.

The more you stood in front of the sink rubbing your face, the more vividly you remember the rude comments made about you. Could they have been true?

With a troubled look, you sneak a glance at yourself in the mirror.

You didn’t think that your clothes were particularly “bad”... They said so much, and it’s all coming back like a vicious and cruel tsunami.

No matter what you do, you can’t seem to stop crying.

“Oh y/n!!~ Where are ya’ at?” Mammon crashes through the door, hands on his hip with a toothy and closed-eye grin.

Thinking quickly, you reach over to grab a hand towel and press your face into it. “H-Hey, Mammon, you looked good out there...”

Mammon must have picked up on your wavering tone, because he pauses.

You’re frozen on the spot when he places a hand on your shoulder, although you can’t see him through the towel.

“Uhh... What’s up with you? Don’t tell me that you’re...” It’s too late to react when he pushes the towel aside to find your teary eyes.

“Wh-What?!” His heart drops immediately. “What’s wrong babe?! Are you like... I dunno hurt or something?!”

You exhale shakily, still trying to calm yourself. “Those models out there are just... A little too honest about me, I s-suppose... But it’s really fine. I just... I don’t know... I guess I just needed a minute to... Freak out a little?”

“Honest? What the hell do you—“ A sudden feeling of recognition pulled at his features. Truth be told, he knew those demons personally, having worked with them before. Then the guilt of knowing exactly what happened began to eat away at him. “Oh...”

You shifted, wishing that he would drop the subject. This was getting much too embarrassing to bear, and the way his eyes drooped with sadness made your stomach churn. “Mammon. I-I’m serious, I’m okay—“

Mammon’s arms surround you like a sturdy, calming veil.

“I know you’re not, y/n!” Mammon had no desire to listen to you pretend to act unbothered. “I don’t know what they’ve told you, but I can guarantee that I have been given comments just as bad as those- and I’m The Mammon.”

You grip onto his shirt, avoiding making eye contact with him. “But... That’s the thing Mammon. I’m not nearly as confident or perfect as you.”

Mammon holds you tighter, voice softening drastically. “Don’t you think that’s exactly what I think of you when you comfort me on my bad days?”

A pool of warmth starts to seep from the depths of your chest. And your furrowed brows start to relax. “Really..? You mean it?”

“y/n, you are precious to me, and all of my crazy ass brothers. And there is no way in hell that I’ll allow some scum of the world get in the way of realizing how flawless you are.”

Beel wants nothing more than to spend every second of the day with you. And Belphie.

But unfortunately, most of his time is spent in the gym, if not the kitchen.

So he asks you if you would like to start working out with him at the gym, or even if you were just interested in hanging around and nothing more. He just wanted your presence.

The idea itself made your heart swell. But after a bit of thinking, you weren’t so sure. You’ve never been to a gym in Devildom before, but you were sure it wasn’t very different from human gyms.

It would be filled with confident and toned bodies that would put you down without even trying.

And as much as you wanted to be there with Beel, you weren’t ready for the prospect of the nasty looks you’d receive sitting beside the sixth-born who is a perfectly sculpted athlete.

After all, he seemed a bit too good for you, as it seemed in your head.

Beel wonders why you turned him down. Had he done something to upset you?

He’d have to get down to the bottom of it, lest he regret ignoring your behavior.

To do this, he takes a day off from the gym, thinking that the answer to this situation would be to spend time together. Smiling to himself, he clutches a bag of sweets to his chest.

y/n has got to love this, he thinks excitedly.

Knocking once, he can barely keep himself from barging in and tearing into his baked goodies. “y/n, I’m here. Wanna share these cookies with me? There’s also pound cake and cupcakes... The mini ones with enchanted apples on them.”

His smile falls a little when there’s a long note of silence. “y/n?” He questions.

“Oh! Uh... Sorry, Beel... Maybe another day. I’m studying for that final right now.” Beel knows you sound sincere, but something about this response seems off.

His heart sinks a little, feeling a little embarrassed after being rejected. He hadn’t expected this.

“Ah... Are you sure?”

“...”

There’s a silence from the other side of the door, and the sixth born starts to genuinely worry.

Truth be told, you had been weeping alone looking through images of famous demon athletes that advertised the same gym that Beel attended regularly. It was a dangerous thing to do, but how could you look away?

You take a glance at yourself in the mirror. your eyes were barely puffy. A bit red too. But overall, nothing seemed very different. Maybe— Just maybe, he wouldn’t even notice.

“Hello? You in there?”

You stiffen at the sound of his voice.

“Coming!” Hopping to your feet, you rush to the door and open it.

“Oh man, I was starting to get antsy smelling this bag... Let’s hurry and dig in.” His eyes are trained on the food in his hands, and his mouth is watering.

“Oh, Beel... You have some drool again!” You lightly scold him and wipe the corner of his mouth with a napkin from the table right beside the door.

At that, he finally gets a good look at you.

“Oh, thank y—... ou...” He trails off instantaneously. “Your eyes...”

You sigh and bow your head sheepishly. “Agh... I should’ve known you’d catch me. It’s not anything serious, I just was... I was watching a sad movie is all.”

His eyebrows knit together. “So were you studying or watching a movie?”

He caught me.

He pushes forward, closing the door behind him and taking your hands in his. He leaves the bag abandoned on the floor.

“y/n... What’s been up with you lately? You’re seriously not yourself.”

Your face flushes, and you sigh. Your throat suddenly feels tight. “Uh... That’s...”

He’s noticed this entire time. I’m an idiot.

“Listen, Beel...” You squeeze his hand. “I’ll tell you because I know that if I don’t, you’ll be worried sick.”

He nods hurriedly, heart rate increasing.

“I guess I just...” The words struggle to make their way out. “I don’t understand how-how someone like you; handsome, kind, and strong could end up with...” You pause, starting to tear up. “With someone like me.”

Beel takes a moment to process your situation.

And when he does, his head starts to spin, and his heart feels heavy like a boulder.

“y/n... What are you even thinking?” Is all he manages to whisper. He pulls you into a tight, comforting hug and sniffles.

“Beel—“

“You mean literally more to me than anything or anyone else.” He says firmly. “I don’t know what part of you you’re so hung up on, I couldn’t even imagine there being any reason to be.”

“You don’t have to—“

“I do.” He cuts you off firmly. If he didn’t, you may try to deny his definite truth. “y/n, I know i’m all about food and training... I’m sorry I don’t know how to make you realize how wonderful you are.

But I’d like to learn that with you. Is that okay?”

Your tears finally fall, soaking through his tank top.

“Of course... I’d love that.”

#obey me beel #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me male reader #obey me headcanons #obey me swd #om

207 notes · View notes

literaila · 4 years ago

Text

picture perfect

spencer reid x reader

request: do you think you could write a sequel to this vast empty space? after things go back to normal and it's just a cute fluffy fic. it made me cry very hard and i love it a lot.

this is an epiloge to “this vast empty space” read that here.

warnings: probably confusing, very short, fluff.

She could sleep now.

She spent every night laying in bed, no longer pondering the loneliness that had invaded, but instead surrounded by warmth, and a comforting feeling she couldn't describe.

She slept through every night, no longer waking up from nightmares, screaming for her husband to come back to her.

She could sleep now.

Maybe it was because she had turned up the AC, and her room was no longer burning hot at night. Maybe it was because she ate dinner earlier, and wasn't as worked up when she went to bed. Maybe it was because she had developed a schedule and her eyes had started getting tired earlier.

Or maybe,

It was the weight on the other side of her bed. Maybe it was the laughter that she heard every night when she read her daughter a bedtime story. Maybe it was the soft kisses that she knew would wake her up in the morning.

Maybe it was the feeling she could feel in her chest.

Maybe it was the soft hands that guided her to emotion every night.

Every night, she whispered her quiet acknowledgment, whispered affirmations to the person next to her.

Every night, she had someone to say goodnight to, someone to kiss, someone to keep her warm.

She could sleep now.

And sleep did wonders for her.

After all, she’d decided to keep working, that work was a part of her life she couldn't just remove. That she wouldn't take the easy way out. She knew that she was scared, she knew that there was nothing wrong with the way their family lived, and she was just scared.

She was scared all the time of the possibilities, the things that could remove her, remove him. She was scared for the daughter that she might leave behind.

But, she wouldn't allow her fear to affect her life as it did, she wouldn't allow her fears to keep space between her and the man she loved.

She would move forward. Keep trying.

Things were looking up.

It was an early October morning. The air had put fresh thoughts into her brain, had allowed her to wake up, to get up. It was brisk outside, everything felt fresh. But, in the middle of the fall, she knew that couldn't be true.

The trees were dying again. The clouds were swarming in, following her out the door. The leaves were falling again, the colors scattered across the ground, up in the air. They brought joy to their air with their death, their passing on.

Her daughter's laughter was floating across the air, like bells flying through the wind, reminding her just how much she loved and appreciated fall. She loved these bells, these tiny sounds that made their way straight to her chest. Right into her heart.

She watched Fayre dance around in the leaves, throw them up, get them stuck in her hair. And, a part of her knew that she should be bothered, that her daughter shouldn't be making a mess, but she looked so happy. And so she’d decided she would ignore that part, she would allow her daughter the joy of fall for a moment longer.

They had to leave soon anyway.

“Did you get Fayre ready-”

A warm voice filled the air around her, distracted her from her thoughts. Hands were wrapping around her waist as she breathed in the air again, the feeling cold in her chest.

She turned around, leaned her back against their deck. Listened to her daughter laugh some more, and kept the small smile on her face.

His eyes were amused, and just a little bit reserved. But mostly playful.

They had to leave soon. They were scheduled to take pictures today. Family pictures. Snapshots in this moment of life when everything seemed too perfect.

Y/N and Spencer had decided it was time for new one weeks prior when they were listening to music in the kitchen, late at night after Fayre had gone to bed, and Y/N had noticed the pictures on the wall were old ones. Ones of when Fayre was just a baby, only a couple of months old. They swayed around the kitchen and decided that now was a good time to have a memory to hold onto.

And today was the day.

The two of them had woken up early, shared a couple of soft kisses in the morning light. Basking in the sun from their window in bed, and trying to shake their tired eyes.

Yawns were shared as the two of them got ready. Smiles across the room.

After that, it was Y/N’s job to get Fayre ready. Spencer had agreed to wake her up, Y/N refusing to do so because of the monster her daughter was in the morning, but Y/N had to get her ready.

That was the deal.

And maybe, just possibly, the mother and daughter had gotten a bit distracted.

Fayre had wanted breakfast, which of course Y/N had complied with, knowing that they had a bit of extra time. And then breakfast had turned into the two of them telling jokes across the table, Y/N laughing at the silliness of her little girl. And then Fayre had wanted to play hide and seek, and who was Y/N to argue? She was fond of laughter and smiles, and her daughter, and so again, she’d complied. Completely forgetting that they were supposed to be getting ready.

Spencer hadn't noticed any of this, showering the other room.

And now they were outside, playing in the leaves, laughing together again.

“She doesn't look ready,” Spencer said, continuing his sentence as he stared at his wife. His eyes were questioning now, his face harsh but amused still.

Y/N gave him a sheepish smile, leaning up to kiss his cheek. Almost as a way of apologizing, almost as a kiss of affection.

“She wanted to play,” she said, her smile bigger now as she watched his eyes soften. As his thumbs ran circles over her waist.

“Love, she always wants to play,” Spencer reminded her.

“We have a little bit of time?” Y/N answered back, her voice higher, her eyes faking innocence. Spencer scowled at her, rolling his eyes.

Y/N planted kisses all over his face, getting him to laugh under her insistent pecking. She smiled against his face and kept going, waiting for him to pull her off of him.

And when he did, she smiled at him again, reminding herself of this warmth, this feeling in her heart. Committing it to memory. Telling herself to never forget it.

Y/N pulled herself from his arms, ducking under his hands and walking towards her daughter.

Fayre was still playing in the leaves, oblivious to Y/N and Spencer’s conversation. Her hair was tangled, there was grass all over her, and still, Y/N couldn't help but smile at the sight of her daughter's grin.

“Come on little love, we’ve got to get ready before Daddy has a heart attack.”

Fayre squealed as Y/N picked her up.

***

They were all dressed in fall colors. Their outfits not matching, but flowing well together.

It wasn't the first time they’d been to this photographer, and Spencer and Y/N were both familiar and comfortable with him.

First, they’d decided to get pictures of Fayre alone, knowing that eventually, her smile would fade, that she would get tired and would be less willing to smile for the camera.

Y/N watched from the side as both the photographer and Spencer tried to make her laugh.

It was an easy job, seeing as Fayre found something funny in everything, and Y/N was excited to see the pictures that would come out of these moments. She pictured them on her wall, pictured them as her new lock screen.

When dozens of pictures of Fayre had been taken, Spencer walked over to Y/N, letting the photographer take over the job, and he kissed her head as he wrapped an arm around her. They both watched Fayre laugh for a moment, comforted by the feeling of each other.

And then Y/N pushed Spencer into the view of the camera.

She whispered to the photographer, told him to get some pictures of the two of them.

The two people she loved the most.

At first, it was just the two of them smiling at the camera, Fayre giggling while Spencer lifted her off the ground.

And then, Spencer had decided to try something new. He set Fayre back down on the ground, kneeling in front of her. They were looking at each other now, their eyes bright as they stared at each other. Y/N could see Spencer reach back to grab something out of his pocket, she could see Fayre questioning what he was doing, her small hands trying to grab at his arm to see.

She smiled at the two of them, hoped that the pictures of this moment would come out good.

And then Spencer started to make Fayre laugh again. He pulled out the easiest trick in the magic book, removing a coin from behind Fayre’s ear.

And her laughter was infectious.

Y/N looked over to the photographer, saw the pictures on the screen in front of them.

They were perfect.

She could feel the pride, the love for the two of them bursting in her chest.

She was distracted when Spencer called her over, the three other people in the room all looking to her.

And it was time for the family pictures.

Once again, they started with just smiling at the camera. Spencer held Fayre in one of his arms, and in the other, he pulled Y/N closer to him. He smiled at the faces Fayre and Y/N were making at each other. Y/N lifted a hand up to caress her daughters face, both of their smiles filling their entire faces.

And they continued taking pictures, continued smiling altogether, laughing at the photographer, at each other. There were pictures of them all close together, pictures of them spread apart and laughing. Pictures of them making serious faces, pictures following those ones of all of them laughing.

And it was a perfect moment.

It was beyond perfect.

In a moment of silence, a moment where the photographer had gone to get something, when Fayre had been distracted, in a moment Spencer leaned down to Y/N to whisper to her.

“You look so happy.” He said, and Y/N could feel the adoration in his voice, the appreciation, the awe. She could hear the longing, the desperate way he had always wished she was happy. And she remembered when they’d first made up, on that first night together, she remembered him whispering to her how sorry he was.

She remembered Spencer telling her that he hadn't seen her smile in so long.

And now… now she couldn't stop smiling. Every day, it felt like her smile had been glued onto her face, that been plastered there.

Spencer kissed her head, held her close to him, and she could feel his heart against hers.

“I love you,” she murmured back, not wanting to disrupt this moment. This perfect moment for the two of them.

She wanted him to know how happy he had made her, how she could feel with him, how there was nothing but complete warmth and bliss when she was with him. She wanted him to know just how much love she had for him.

She could barely imagine ever feeling sad before, she couldn't imagine the person she was only months ago. She couldn't imagine the hole that she once thought had been dug in her chest.

No, she was whole, there was no space, nothing empty. She was completely whole, and she could never stop smiling now.

She had a family. One that was completely hers, one that she knew loved her. And she knew now, that her husband and her daughter could never be complete without her. She knew that even though she wasn't perfect, she was perfect for them, and just enough.

She knew that their family was perfect together. That this person she was, was just enough.

This person was new, shiny, and new, and happy.

This person was happy.

This person could never do without the two flowers that had bloomed on her heart, that had dug their own holes, their own space in her chest. The two flowers she loved desperately.

And with that thought, she smiled at the camera.

A snapshot of a perfect moment.

its short and simple but.... you know... i think its cute so.

my masterlist here.

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds rp #criminal minds headcanons #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fan #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #mgg x reader #mgg blurb #mgg fanfiction

541 notes · View notes

darylsgirl · 4 years ago

Text

You take my breath away - Teaser

A/N - Hey guys! here's a teaser of something I've been working on not sure if i should continue with this, It hasn't got any smut yet but will do if i continue on it. Please please please leave me a comment and let me know what you think! Apologies for any mistakes i haven't edited this or read it over!

Love Jen :)

He was the most incredible looking man you had ever seen, Walking through the gates with that possum in his hand, He was definitely a little disheveled, Looked like he was in serious need of a shower but gorgeous nonetheless. Your mouth going dry the moment you saw him, Feeling the now unfamiliar fluttering in your stomach as he walked by you, Not sparing a second glance in your direction.

His eyes alert and suspiciously taking in his surroundings, You watched as he handed his crossbow over, Fingers twitching as it was moved further away from him. Aaron leading them to Deana’s house. Where they will no doubt be being interviewed on camera, Just like all the newcomers were. Just like you had been three months before, Looking over the others in the group seeing their wary eyes the exhaustion showing through the cracks in their demeanor.

Letting out the breath you weren’t aware you had been holding you watched them disappear around the corner. As you were turning to go back into the house you were stopped by Olivia. Rushing from the direction the strangers had gone, a huge basket full of linens in her arms.

“Hey Y/N Are you busy? Any chance you can give me a hand? Deana has asked me to set up the two houses down the street for the new guys” Looking at you with those hopeful puppy dog eyes, She knew there was no way you could say no to her.

“Fineeee, But Jessie’s helping too!” You groaned turning back towards her and down the front steps.

“Thank you Y/N! Jessie’s already there loading some supplies into the cupboards” Her pace was getting faster now, Half running to keep up with her frantic walk you let her continue.

“Could you please start on the beds, That would be a HUGE help. Here take this” Offloading the basket to you she turned back towards the garage that held all of the town's supplies.

“I’m going to grab some more linen, I'll be back in a few!”

Groaning again at the weight of the basket you walked up the steps of the house Olivia had specified. Spotting Jessie in the kitchen immediately.

She laughed at your sour expression “She roped you into this too?” You nodded in reply carrying the basket up the stairs and starting in the first room you came too.

Picking up the first bundle of sheets, Finding a little note attached ‘Single’ Pushing them to one side you picked up the next ‘Double’ Taking the note off and putting it back in the basket you made your way to the bed. Pulling the sheets on and making the bed easily you continued into the other three bedrooms upstairs, Finding one set of double sheets remaining.

Walking down the stairs you passed Jessie again in the Kitchen, Stopping for a moment you took a glass of water from her mumbling your thanks, “Just the basement left! Has she come back yet?”

“Mhmm She left that for you” pointing to a basket of towels. “And she said she’s left the next bunch of sheets and towels in the next house ready”

“And what pray tell is olivia doing while she’s got me sweating like a Whore in Church”

Jessie choked a little on her water trying to suppress her giggle at your words. “Beats me! Tried to ask her, She ran off looking very important” She giggled again.

“Best get on before she finds more jobs for me!” Jessie agreed to grab the towels and put them into each bathroom, Snagging two from her you took it down to the basement with you.

This place was lucky really, There had been a hotel nearby that was just about to open as all hell broke loose that had stacks of linens, Plates and silverware. Enough to fully stock this place for a long time.

It seemed silly to you at first for this to be a huge concern but the longer you stayed here and the more you got used to the little comforting things like the Clean bedding and actual utensils the more important it had started to feel. It made you feel normal, Civilised. Like the world hadn’t just thrown a tantrum. Sure it never lasted very long but the comfort you got from these little things was priceless.

Once you had finished the bed down stairs you and Jessie made your way over to the second house repeating the jobs, Smiling as you left. Hopefully the comfort the little things had on you would also reassure and comfort the new guys. If only just a little. Being out there for so long yourself you knew how hard it would be for them to adapt.

When Aaron had first brought you through the gates you thought you must have died. Everything was so….Normal, The houses all pristine. All happy smiling faces welcoming you to the neighbourhood. It had taken you a week to speak, Sometimes you still weren’t sure if it was real at all, Maybe this is where your consciousness goes when you were walking around as one of those dead but not dead freaks.

Walking back home you spotted Olivia, Saluting her “All done El capitan!” She laughed as you walked by purposely not slowing in case she thought of another job for you.

Sinking back into your couch and grabbing the book you had discarded earlier when the commotion at the gate started, You had been out hunting the day before, Which meant today you could take the next few days easy.

Reading the Hobbit for the millionth time, You easily slipped back into that familiar world, Only stopping when it got too dark to see the words on the page. The next day was much the same head straight back into your book escaping the real world as long as you could. Not realising how long you had been sat there, The sun was low on the horizon when you were pulled from your favourite book.

Opening the door you were greeted by a smiling Aaron. “Hey Y/N I can’t stay gotta get back to Eric, Deana is throwing a welcome party for the new guys, Since you’re our newest person besides them, She is pretty insistent you attend!”

Rolling your eyes “Insistent hm? I think I’ll give it a miss..But thanks for the invite!” Trying to shut the door hoping this conversation was over when the door was stopped on his foot.

“C’mon Y/N a little more socialising won’t kill you! You’ve managed to come out of your shell to me Jessie and now Olivia! A few more wouldn’t hurt right?”

The puppy dog eyes. How did every fucker in here know that was your weak spot.

“Ughhhhh Finee! Only if you're going to be there?” He nodded happily turning and stopping on the steps “See you at 8 wear something pretty” He winked, Taking off before you could change your mind.

Pretty? You weren’t even sure you owned anything that could be classed as pretty. Storming upstairs like a toddler having a tantrum you stripped quickly showering the sweat from yourself before stepping out wrapping the fluffy towel around you.

Walking over to your closet you pulled at the pile of dresses you had haphazardly thrown to the bottom of the closet when you had moved in, Never thinking in this new world there would be a place for pretty dresses.

Separating the sizes you pulled the few that would fit you to one side throwing the rest back in a heap again. Holding them up to your chest you decided on a black figure hugging one with a slit up one side. You guessed this would be kind of functional too. The slit certainly gave you enough room to move if you needed to. Picking up a pair of almost matching wedges you threw them both on the bed. Turning your attention to your hair as you tried to tame it.

It was a shame this new world didn’t include bloody straighteners. Groaning at yourself you couldn’t believe that had just crossed your mind. There were more important things to worry about besides your hair!

Running the brush through it once more, It would do. Your mother certainly would be happy. She loved your naturally wavy curls. You felt the twang in your heart as you remembered her, She had lasted 6 months after the fall before one wrong step sent her into the arms of a walker taking her from you. Rubbing your eyes gently. No you wouldn’t cry, If she was here now she’d be giving you an earful about it, Demanding you enjoy your night and your freedom.

Looking over at the tiny clock on the side 8:15 shit you were late. Pulling the dress over your head and heels on your feet you spared your reflection one last look smoothing the dress down on your stomach nervously. You can do this. It’s only people right?

Slowly descending the stairs and making your way out the door, Your feet dragging as you headed closer to the party. Stopping outside the door, Hearing the laughter from the other side.

Before you knew what you were doing you were spinning back around back up the street when a light fell over you.

“Sneaking away before they can see you huh Y/N?” Giving him a guilty look.

“I tried… Tried and failed. Oh well maybe next time!” You chuckled.

“Oh hey, Daryl right?” Turning and following Aaron’s gase you spotted him again. So the possum guy’s name was Daryl.

Giving him a small smile “I guess those kinda things aren’t for you either?”

Not quite looking at you he gave a non committal grunt.

Deciding to take Aaron’s earlier advice, Taking a deep breath.

“You eaten? I’m making spaghetti if you're hungry?” He shrugged again.

“C’mon, She makes some pretty serious spaghetti” Aaron teased, raising his eyebrow at you.

“Guess I could eat” He mumbled, still looking more at his feet than you. Aaron gave you a wink as he went back inside giving you both a wave before shutting the door.

“C’mon it’s this way. Just down from your house. I guess you could say we’re neighbours” He fell into step with you still staying quiet the entire way. As you opened the front door you looked backwards seeing Daryl looking between your open door and his own house.

“Come in, Food won’t be long!” Holding the door open Daryl finally made his decision, his feet carrying him swiftly up the stairs and inside. Flicking the lights on as you followed him.

“Kitchen’s that way, I’ll get you a drink. Whiskey ok?” He finally looked at you.

“You guys have Whiskey?” A shocked expression crossing his face. “Yeah i found it out there still unopened a while back, I was saving it for a special occasion, But shh don’t tell olivia or she’ll add it to that list of hers!” He gave you a small smile as you poured a glass for each of you passing it to him.

“Make yourself at home! I’ll get this started” He took a seat at the breakfast bar rolling the glass around in his hands whilst you busied yourself in the kitchen pulling out everything you would need and quickly getting it started.

Turning back to the breakfast bar you grabbed the loaf of bread slicing a few pieces and covering them in some oil and wild garlic you had found on your hunt yesterday. Popping them into the oven. He spoke again “Why’s it a special occasion?” He mumbled.

Grinning at him and taking a sip of your whiskey. “It’s not everyday I get to cook my serious spaghetti for just anyone!”

You could see the blush rising in his cheeks as he took a long swig of his whiskey. You leant over to top his glass off, Before turning to the cupboards and grabbing placemats, Plates and cutlery.

“Here let me do that” He tried as he moved towards you.

“Absolutely not! My mother would roll over in her grave if she knew i put a guest to work” Smiling sadly as your mother popped into your head again. Setting the table.

Turning your attention back to your meal you strained the pasta, Popping it into a dish before dishing up the sauce too. Taking them back to the table and returning to the oven to fish the garlic bread out.

Once everything was on the table you both took a seat. Reaching over you served him a large portion popping a few pieces of garlic bread on his plate before serving yourself.

“Dig in” You insisted before turning back to your plate. He watched you take the first few mouthfuls before reaching for his own fork.

After a few minutes of silence you spoke up again “So what do you think of Alexandria?”

“I think it ain’t real”

“I thought that for a long time, Hell I’m still not convinced and I’ve been here 3 months”

“So your not...uh...Not from here. Like the others”

“I’m from out there I guess. Asheville Georgia originally”

His eyes went wide at this “Me too, Sorta. Lived up near the mountains in Georgia”

A huge grin crossing your face “So we’ve always been neighbours then! How strange that we would meet here in DC! We must have been in the same places a thousand times! I used to go hunting in the mountains with my daddy”

He shrugged “Alotta my group from near there, We met in Atlanta……” he trailed off mumbling “Ya wouldn’t have noticed someone like me anyway”

Trying to get him to meet your eyes over the table, “Oh i most definitely would have noticed YOU Daryl”

He cleared his throat awkwardly, the tops of his ears peeking through his shaggy hair going beet red, his face lowered, he turned his attention back to his food.

Realising you had probably gone too far, Afterall you didn’t really know anything about this man, You had only seen him once yesterday morning before tonight, You weren’t even sure if he was single. Or straight for that matter. Trying to ease the awkwardness that had now descended in the room you tried a quick change of conversation.

“How are your group feeling about being here? Did you and your partner manage to sleep okay?” Hoping your not so subtle way of asking him if he were single wouldn’t be too obvious.

“Partner? Rick’s the Cop not me” He grumbled. Okay maybe not as obvious as you first thought.

You shook your head slightly, his obliviousness was strangely endearing, “Sorry no i meant your girlfriend, Wife” When he didn’t reply straight away you figured you must have missed the mark. “Boyfriend?” You questioned.

He snorted at this “I ain’t gay, Aint got no woman either” Not able to contain the gleeful smile on your face. Not that it would matter his eyes were fully trained on his meal as he started devouring it quicker, Reaching for his glass he drained the remaining dregs of the whiskey.

“Oh really? I thought for sure you’d have been snapped up by now!”

The blush returning to his face again he gave you a noncommittal grunt, Waiting a moment you realised he wasn’t going to answer. Not much of a talker. You were probably being too pushy, Small talk was hard to do after seeing the things he no doubt had seen out there, The things that man had probably had to do just as you had, Suppressing the shudder that threatened to run through you as your mind conjured up the images.

Standing quickly you walked back to the kitchen grabbing the bottle and refilling his glass and in turn your own.

Taking a deep gulp of the whiskey and then quickly finishing your own meal in silence, Both finishing your meal at the same time, Daryl raises the plate to his mouth to scrape the last bits of pasta into his mouth.

“Still hungry? There’s plenty more if you would like some more?”

Shaking his head no “ ‘M good.” He grunted. Taking his plate from him and collecting your own you took them into the kitchen dropping them in the sink you turned to retrieve the serving bowls, Almost crashing straight into Daryl, Your hands flinching up and landing on his chest steadying yourself.

He caught the bowl just in time surprisingly before any of the remaining food managed to spill on the floor.

Feeling the blush on your cheeks now as your hands lingered a moment longer than they should have done, Enjoying the firmness of his muscular chest under your fingers.

Dropping your arms to your sides. “I’m sorry! Thank you, Let me take that” Taking the bowl and turning your beetroot red face away from him you found a tupperware box in the cupboard filling it with the leftovers before turning to the sink and washing the dishes.

When you turned back to him he was watching you silently, Studying you it seemed.

Picking your glass back up you motioned to him “Should we finish the bottle or do you have somewhere to be?”

When he made no move to leave you picked up the bottle and motioned towards the living room letting him follow behind you, Taking a seat you finally kicked your uncomfortable heels off, Your feet instantly throbbing grateful to be out of their confines.

Propping your feet up on the coffee table in front of you, You sank back into the plush cushions behind you with a happy groan, Daryl stood awkwardly next to the couch glass hanging from his fingertips gasing at you with a softness in his eyes, The redness rising again in cheeks once he realised you had caught him gazing at you.

Smiling at his warmly “No need to stand on ceremony, Take a seat” Patting the chair next to you from emphasis. “More?” You asked, shaking the bottle at him. Taking it from you he filled his own glass before turning to yours and topping yours up also.

Clearing his throat awkwardly. “So...Are ya people here too?”

Dropping your eyes from him you shook your head sadly “Just me…They’re all gone….” The alcohol was taking over your words as you mumbled “Shouldn’t have been me…” Feeling a tear escape your eye as you thought about the countless lives you had watched taken before their time. People who would have been the greatest asset in this new world...Gone, Some died saving you. For what.. They should have let you die.

Pulling your mind from those thoughts, It didn’t do anyone any good to dwell! Wiping the tear quickly from your cheek grabbing your drink and gulping it down in one.

Turning back to Daryl you shifted a non convincing smile back to your face.

“How about you? Your group seems very close almost like a…”

Finishing your sentence for you “A family…...Ya know i look around and i think about the people that are gone, And the people that are still here and it aint right...Aint fair..But yer gotta keep goin for em”

Smiling at Aaron’s name “Yeah i wouldn’t be here either if it wasn’t for him and Eric, They’re good people. Most of the people here are good people. Too innocent to the world as it is yes, But good people..”

After sitting in silence for a few moments when Daryl broke the silence. “Well i should...I should go….They’ll be wonderin where i am”

Standing with him you walked him to the door.

“Thanks. Thanks for the-”

“Your welcome Daryl….Maybe you could come again? It was nice to have company” Smiling you opened the door for him letting him linger on the threshold.

He let out another noncommittal grunt as his eyes lingered on you. Leaning against the doorway you followed his eye line down your body, smirking slightly you swayed your hips watching as his eyes followed your movements.

Darting forward you swiftly kissed his cheek. “Goodnight Daryl” The blush on his face matched yours as he turned and stomped down the steps rushing towards his own house.

Daryl

Holy shit she was perfect.

Good food, Great Whiskey, Perfect body. That dress…. He had never met anyone like her before, She hunted too. But a woman like that would never look twice at a man like him.

A dirty good for nothing redneck asshole, He didn’t even know why she had been so...so nice to him tonight.

Carol was waiting for him at the door. Puckering her lips at him she made a lip smacking noise “Kiss Pookie” She giggled.

“Shut up” He mumbled, heading straight for the stairs to the basement. He needed to be alone for a little while as he processed these thoughts. Locking the door behind him he took a few strides over to the bed and flopped down on it.

In the dark of the room the thoughts became more obvious. Throwing an arm over his face he groaned. From the second he had first seen her standing so beautifully in front of Aaron’s house he had a tightening in his stomach. He couldn’t have said no to her invitation if he tried.

If Merle had seen him tonight, Blushing like a love sick little girl, He would have had a right laugh, It was like he could hear his voice. “Oh Princess, Got a crush? Man up Baby bro, Go get that cooch”

Did she mean it when she asked if he could come again? He shook his head. She couldn’t have, she was just being nice. His mind couldn’t stop thinking of the way she smiled at him, The way her hair fell in front of her eyes when she laughed, The curves of her as she swayed in the doorway…. His pants were tightening at the thought. He would have to take care of that before he could fall asleep.

Imagining his hands were roaming her body he pulled his throbbing member free, He wouldn’t last long as he thought about her hands on him, While his hands roamed up those beautiful milky thighs. That beautiful mouth gasping for him.

God that did it, Groaning he let himself spill into his hand, Grabbing a rag at the side of him he wiped it from himself, Ashamed he turned over throwing an arm over his face before drifting into an undisturbed sleep at the thought of her.

Over the next few weeks he saw a lot more of Y/N, As they were the two best hunters in Alexandria they were often thrown together to head out of the walls.

Even in her half ruined Jeans and Walker splattered Shirt she was still gorgeous. On days like today when they’re outside the walls he noticed how her face changed from the strained smile to a relaxed free look in her eyes.

She was scanning the underbrush now checking the traps they had left the week before. He felt the blush on his cheeks when he realised he had been caught staring again.

“Everything okay?” She asked spinning around in a circle, her body tensing looking for the Danger.

He cleared his throat, “Yeah all good. Anythin in the trap?” Blush rising in his cheeks at being caught staring. After that they headed back to the town in comfortable silence, Walking side by side both carrying the day's hunt, Y/N stopping every few minutes to forage things on the way.

Once back inside the walls, She came with him to his house as they always did now Only stopping to share the hunt with Olivia to share around the town, Y/N spent a lot more time around him and his group. Seeming to slot seamless into their messed up dynamic.

Just like every night she helped Carol prepare the dinner while he retreated to the porch, Cleaning his bow and bolts, The door open letting her musical laugh wash over him as he worked.

He could have listened to her all day, Before long he forgot what he was meant to be doing and just closed his eyes, Head leaning back against the house, Fully relaxed for the first time being in Alexandria.

He groaned inwardly opening his eyes to see who was disturbing his peace.

“Hey…” Rick took a seat next to Daryl on the porch nudging his knee and pointing towards the house.

“Y/N been spending a lot of time here...What’s going on with that?” He asked, giving you a knowing look.

“Why yer asking me?” Daryl huffed. “Shouldn’ yer be askin her”

Rick sighed before giving him another knowing look. “I seen the way you look at her, You sweet on her?”

Daryl wasn’t sure how to respond because of course he was ‘sweet’ on her but there was no changing who he was, A beautiful woman like that could never be interested in him, So there was just no point admitting his feelings to his friend as he knew you would never reciprocate those feelings.

Just as he opened his mouth to reply your beautiful song filled voice broke interrupted at just the right moment. His heart pounding, blush spreading across his face as you smiled at him, He was grateful for the darkness to hide this from you.

As he stood he felt her fingers brush his arm as she gave him an inquisitive look.

Y/N

You felt the electricity hum between you as your fingers found his arm, You had both been taking as many opportunities as possible to get closer to each other, So grateful when you were partnered together to hunt.

@jazzy1118

@one-shot-plus-size

@marvelfansworld

@phoenixblack89

@fuseburner

@angelofthorr

@pncnsc

@jodiereedus22

@delightfullykrispypeach

@honeyswritting

@daryldixonstorm

@browneyes528

@dixonsbike666

@lilythemadqueen

92 notes · View notes

pan-fangirl-345 · 4 years ago

Text

You Have A Visitor!

Summary: Denki needs a boost. Luckily, there’s a visitors day coming up and you, being the loving girlfriend that you are, decide this is a good time to catch up with your boyfriend.

Trigger Warnings: Swearing, because Bakugou, some suggestive thought, and the reader had divorced parents and an alcoholic father, not to mention some low self-esteem. If there’s anything I missed, please tell me!

A/N: I have no idea what the hell made me write this but whatever, I have nothing else better to be doing like the chorus assignment that was due a week ago, and the outline for a paper, and then the actual paper. Oops.

Also, I realized quite belatedly, that I never told you guys that (Y/N) means your full name, both first and last. Sorry about that!

“Hey baby girl,” Denki said, sounding tired.

“Hey, are you okay?” you inquired, flopping onto your bed.

“Yeah, I just got my grades back and I can’t say they’re great. I even studied this time!”

“I’m sure they’re fine, Denki,” you assured him, wishing you could wrap your arms around him.

“I’ve missed you,” he admitted. “It’s been so hard being away from you for this long. And I don’t mean to be clingy, but I could really use a hug from you.”

You could hear it in his voice, he was having a bad day. He was normally very peppy and chipper, but there were days when he just couldn’t muster the energy for it.

“I know Sparky,” you said. “I miss you too. Where’s Kirishima? Can’t he give you a hug?”

“Nah, he’s in the gym with the steel guy from Class B.”

“I was almost 100% sure you were going to say he was with the explosion guy, Bakugou,” you said smiling.

“Can . . . can I FaceTime you?” he inquired softly.

“Of course Denks, I’m honestly a little surprised it took you this long to ask me,” you teased, trying to bring a smile to his face.

“Well, I know how you feel about being on camera.”

“Yeah, but it’s different when I’m talking to you,” you told him.

When he called you again, you answered, smiling at him.

“Hey Denki,” you said.

He looked tired, there were bags under his eyes, and he was flopped against his bed, body riddled with tension.

“Hey love,” he said, giving you a tired smile. “It’s so good to see your adorable face.”

“Right back at you Sparky,” you retorted, smiling at him. “I really wish I was there with you. Maybe I could help.”

“This is helping,” he told you. “Just being able to talk to you.”

“Bad day?”

He nodded, sighing. “I’m sore, I’m tired, I feel like an idiot, and I miss you on top of everything else.”

“I’m sorry, I wish I could see you. When’s the next visitors’ day?” you inquired, moving to look at your calendar.

“Like, two weeks from now, on Saturday. Why?”

“I’m gonna come visit you silly,” you teased, smiling at him. “I have to work that Saturday, but it’s only until noon. I’ll come see you after that, yeah?”

“Seriously? You’re gonna come see me?” he asked, sitting up. Little lines of electricity started to run up his body and you laughed.

“Yeah, course I am Sparky,” you said.

“I can’t wait to see you! And introduce you to my friends! And-”

The lights flickered in his room for a few moments before they turned back on.

“Kaminari!” someone shouted in the distance and he flushed.

“Sorry!” he shouted, making you laugh.

“Did you just short circuit the lights in your dorms?” you questioned.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” he said, cheeks bright red.

“It’s okay, it let’s me know that you really are excited to see me,” you told him. “I know that there are a lot of other girls there that are probably prettier than I am.”

“Angel, listen to me,” Denki demanded, making you pause. It was very rare that he ever sounded that serious. “You are beautiful, inside and out, and I would rather spend an hour with you than a hundred years with them, understand?”

“You’re such a sap,” you muttered, suddenly remembering why you loved him so much. “I love you Denks.”

“I love you too, (Y/F/N), don’t ever forget that,” he said, face as serious as you had ever seen it.

“I won’t. Don’t forget that I love you either, alright?”

“I think I can handle that,” he said, flashing you that one million watt smile that you loved to see.

“Good,” you retorted, smiling back at him.

Someone shouted in the background again and Denki sighed.

“I have to go, it’s time for dinner, but I’ll call you again tomorrow night, okay?”

“Okay, I love you Denki Kaminari,” you told him.

“I love you too (Y/N).”

You smiled at him again before you hung up, sighing.

You missed Denki, you really did. It was hard sometimes, dating Denki long distance, even if he was still in the country. He was only about fifteen minutes away, but the security was so tight that it was hard for you to go see him, especially since you worked part time at the local library.

You were proud of him, and you wouldn’t trade him for all the money in the world, but you missed him.

Him and his dumb pickup lines, him and those dumb cat memes he used to send you, him and those awesome hugs whenever you had a bad day.

You had hated Denki when you had first met in middle school. You thought he was immature, way too loud, and you hated how little he paid attention in class.

But then you got paired up for a project and you learned that sometimes Denki didn’t realize he was being loud, or that his quirk was making things go haywire.

Denki had a lot of friends, he made them wherever he went, he was like that, but a lot of the time they were fake.

You had learned how to help him remember things from class, you were there when he started to get a little too loud, and you were there when he was rejected for the first time.

You remembered tapping his arm whenever his noise level was becoming too much, or kicking him when he was unintentionally making someone uncomfortable, stepping in when someone tried to get him to do something that would get him in trouble.

He had asked you out through your third year of middle school. At first you had thought it was a prank, a dare maybe, but he had been adamant that he really wanted to be with you.

It had been weird at first, neither of you really knowing how this changed things, until you realized that nothing had to change. You could still do what you normally did together, but there was more hand holding and cheesy compliments involved.

He had gotten accepted into U.A., and you had been happy for him, but you would be going to different high schools, and when everything had started to get more dangerous there, you had panicked about Denki. You didn’t get to see him as often, and he had even tried to break up with you, worried about your safety.

But you had worked it out, you had talked about it, you called each other regularly and you sent each other small gifts every now and then when missing each other became almost unbearable.

There were small amounts of time when you worried more than usual, when they had training camps and weren’t allowed to have their phones, or when they had exams and you weren’t there to make sure that he was eating and getting enough sleep, but other than that, your relationship with him was relatively easy, everything considered.

The next two weeks were slow, but talking with Denki ever night made it better than you would’ve thought.

He assured you that his new friends would love you, though you were suspicious about Bakugou, that he wanted you to meet Eri, that everything was going to be fine, and that he couldn’t wait to hug you again.

“C’mon sweetheart, it’ll be fine! The only one you might have to worry about it Mineta, and I can promise that he won’t get anywhere near you,” Denki said, laughing.

“Why hasn’t the school kicked him out yet?” you inquired, nose wrinkled.

“That’s a good question,” Denki admitted. “I guess he just hasn’t done it in front of the teachers enough.”

“I would’ve killed him by now, I feel so bad for the girls that have to deal with him,” you said, shuddering.

“I know you would’ve,” he said, smiling. “But seriously, how was your day?”

“The same as usual, except there was this really cute little girl in the library today who tried climbing the shelves to get to a book she wanted. She was so cute! She got really high up though and I was terrified that she was going to hurt herself.”

He listened to you talk about your day, smiling as you talked.

“I’m really excited to see you tomorrow,” he said when you were done.

“I know, I’m excited too. I can’t wait to see you.”

‘I’ve missed you,” he said, getting a sad look on his face.

“Hey, no sadness remember?” you told him. You wanted so badly to reach out to him, to hold him, to run your hands through his hair while he held you. “I’ve missed you too, but we’re gonna see each other tomorrow. And I promise that I’ll give you as many cuddles as you want.”

“If that’s the case you wouldn’t be leaving the couch,” he said, smiling at you. “If you thought I was clingy before it’s only going to be worse tomorrow.”

“Trust me, if you weren’t clingy, I would be,” you assured him, making him laugh.

“You do realize that no one is going to understand how we’re in a relationship right?”

“Fuck ‘em,” you said. “It’s not really any of their business anyway. It’s a healthy relationship.”

“That’s my girl,” Denki said, smirking.

“You’re gonna be a smug bastard tomorrow aren’t you?” you inquired, making him cackle.

“You had no idea. Most of the squad doesn’t think you exist,” he said. “And when I say that, I mean that only Mina believes me because she walked in on my talking to you one night.”

“We’ll change their opinions tomorrow,” you promised, biting your lip. “I’m really excited to see you tomorrow Denki. It’s been too long.”

“I know! Don’t remind me,” he whined, making you chuckle.

“Do you want me to bring anything with me tomorrow?”

“Just your sparkling personality and enough hugs to hold me over until the time you can visit. And maybe some cupcakes or something, I’m craving sugar,” he muttered, the last part more to himself than to you.

Someone shouted in the background, and Denki sighed. “I have to go, but I love you, and I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

“I love you Denki, sleep well,” you told him.

“You too,” he said, ending the call.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Denki couldn’t stop pacing as people streamed into the dorms, trying to find the people they were there to visit. It was only nine, and he was already anxious to see her again.

He kept checking for her (Y/H/C) hair among the sea of people, even though he knew she wouldn’t be there yet.

He had already told his classmates that she was coming to see him today, most of them playing it off as a ploy for attention and sympathy. Both of his parents were working today, so they weren’t coming to see him, and his little sister had had a sleepover the night before and was probably sleeping it off at home with their cat.

(Y/F/N) had texted him that morning and he had been glued to his phone ever since smiling whenever she sent him a funny picture or a reminder of how much she loved him.

Mina had been waiting for months to meet his girlfriend, and while the others didn’t believe she existed, he was going to be proud to show her off.

He wasn’t anxious about seeing her again, he was looking forward to that, but what if she didn’t like his friends? What if they didn’t like her? What if-?

“Denki!”

His head whipped up at the sound of her voice, and he zeroed in on her.

Was he hallucinating? He was hallucinating, right? There was no way she was there-

She ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck, nearly knocking him over.

He definitely wasn’t hallucinating.

“Denki,” she breathed, burying her face in his neck as she twisted her fingers into the back of his t-shirt.

“(Y/F/N), I thought you weren’t coming until noon,” he said, clinging to her.

“I haven’t seen you in like, three months, and that’s all you have to say to me?” she inquired, flashing him that smile that he loved so much as she pulled back a little, just enough to see his face.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, kissing her.

Yeah, he definitely wasn’t hallucinating.

It had been so long since he had touched her, it felt like he had stuck his hand in a fire. She was warm against him and they couldn’t stop smiling at each other between kisses.

“I missed you,” she whispered, burying her hands in his hair.

He slid one hand up her back, touching her face lovingly with the other as they stared at each other, (Y/E/C) eyes meeting amber.

“I missed you too, sweet pea,” he assured her, kissing her again.

“WHAT THE FUCK? FUCKING PIKACHU ACTUALLY HAS A GIRLFRIEND?”

“Shut up Blasty!” Mina hissed, swatting him with her hands.

(Y/F/N) pulled away, cheeks tinged pink as the Bakusquad stared at them.

“You must be Bakugou,” she said, smiling at him. “And, for the record, I’m not a girlfriend, I’m the girlfriend.”

“I told you guys she was real!” Mina shouted, making you laugh.

“It’s nice to meet you all, I’m (Y/N), I’m also Denki’s girlfriend.”

“Clearly,” Sero said, making her chuckle.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you!” Mina said, throwing her arms around (Y/F/N), catching her by surprise, though she hugged back after a moment.

“You must be Mina. It’s so nice to meet you too. I’ve hear so much about all of you.”

“Pikachu, you have some fucking explaining to do,” Bakugou snapped.

“Gladly,” he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You know, I never would’ve thought you would have the patience to deal with someone like Kami, (Y/L/N),” Kirishima said.

“What can I say? Apparently I have a soft spot for dumbasses,” you said, making Denki protest.

“I can’t be that bad,” he muttered into your neck.

He hadn’t let go of you since you had arrived, there was an arm around your shoulders or your waist, a hand in yours or on your back, and now he had you seated in his lap, his arms around your waist as he fiddled with your fingers.

“How did you even get here this early? I thought you said you weren’t coming until noon.”

“I told my boss that I was going to see you today and he let me out early so that I could spend more time with you. I don’t know how you got him to like you so much, he hates everyone.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Denki pointed out.

“Yes, but that’s because I actually do my job correctly and because I have more invested in that library than the founder does!” you told him.

“(Y/F/N) really likes to read,” Denki admitted. “It’s one of the reasons she’s so smart.”

“I’m an only child with parents who both had to work a lot before they divorced, I had to find ways to entertain myself when they weren’t home and when they were too busy screaming at each other to pay attention to me,” you muttered.

Denki’s arms tightened around you subconsciously.

He had met both of your parents, and hadn’t taken well to your father, who had a tendency to love alcohol more than he loved you. It had made you a lot harder on yourself than you had to be, and your father had hated Denki from the moment they had met.

He thought your mother was a saint though, and she was for putting up with your father for so long.

“Yikes, that sounds rough,” Sero said.

You shrugged. “When you grow up like I did, it makes you used to certain things. I got used to someone always putting me down. I got used to having to do a lot of things myself. I mean, it sucked, and there was a time when I had a bag packed in my closet, but it made me who I am.”

“You never told me about the bag thing darling,” Denki said, frowning.

“I mean, I was . . . eight or nine I think, long before we were ever even friends,” you told him. You kissed his cheek lightly. “Besides, I never had to use it.”

“I don’t think that’s the point,” Mina chimed in.

You shrugged, then said, “Oh yeah, my mother says hi baby. She would’ve come with me, but she had to work. Speaking of parents, where are yours?”

“Mom and Dad had to work today,” he explained, nuzzling your neck softly.

“Right, they told me that earlier,” you muttered.

“You talk to his parents?” Kirishima asked.

“Well, yeah. I mean, we’ve known each other since middle school. I used to go over to his house all the time. I used to babysit his sister with him. They’ve known me for a while, us dating just helped my relationship with them. Besides, whenever your school gets attacked, I always go over there. Makes me feel like I’m doing something useful.”

“I still can’t believe fucking Pikachu has a girlfriend,” Bakugou grumbled.

“Jealous?” you asked, wrinkling your nose. “Maybe if you acted less like you had rabies girls wouldn’t be so afraid to talk to you.”

“What did you just say to me?” he asked, palms crackling.

“You heard me,” you said, interlacing one of your hands with Denki’s.

“Do you wanna fucking go?” he snarled, standing up.

“Not particularly, I was just giving a suggestion. Do with it what you will,” you told him, melting back into Denki, who sighed contently.

“This is the calmest I’ve ever seen him,” Sero said, staring at Denki in wonder.

“I have that affect on him apparently,” you confessed, running your free hand through his hair. “You haven’t been sleeping well, have you?”

Denki shook his head. “Too many loud thoughts. Feel bad waking you up to deal with it.”

“Baby, that’s what I’m here for, besides, I’m up a lot of the time anyway,” you chided. “Call me, alright? It puts me to sleep too you know.”

“Mmhmm,” Denki mumbled, kissing your shoulder lightly.

“Cute,” you murmured, kissing his forehead. “You can go take a nap you know.”

“Wanna stay with you,” Denki said.

“C’mon baby, up we go,” you whispered, pulling away from him, hauling him up off the couch. “When was the last time you slept through the whole night?”

“Two weeks ago,” he admitted.

“Denki!”

“‘M sorry,” he whispered.

“Come on, you’re taking a nap, even if I have to-” You stopped what you had been about to say.

Tying him to the bed sounded sexual, and so did sleeping with him. Sitting on him just sounded bad.

“Come on Denki,” you told him. “Let’s get you to bed.”

“Wanna stay with you,” he repeated.

“I’ll stay with you, alright? Just please, get some sleep,” you said. “Where’s your room?”

He stumbled his way through the halls, leading you to his room where he flopped onto his bed.

“It’s so you,” you told him, looking around.

He made grabby hands for you and you chuckled, climbing under his covers with him.

“Missed you a lot,” he muttered.

“I missed you too,” you told him, burying your hands in his hair as he wrapped his arms around you.

He relaxed again, and you kissed his forehead as he fell asleep, rubbing your hands against his back.

“Love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too Denks,” you murmured, letting your own eyes shut as you listened to his breathing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are they still in there?” Sero asked as they made their way to Denki’s room.

“She didn’t leave,” Mina said.

“What the fuck are they doing in there?” Bakugou asked.

“I don’t hear anything,” Kirishima said. “This is really unmanly guys.”

“Open the door,” Mina pushed.

“Guys, no!” Kirishima hissed, but Bakugou had already opened the door.

“Aww,” Sero, Kirishima, and Mina muttered, seeing the two of them tangled together under the covers.

Denki’s arms were tight around her waist as they laid there together, her head tucked under his chin, like he was protecting her.

They all remembered the fierce way she carried herself, the way she would’ve defended him against anyone, even himself.

“They’re gonna get married one day,” Sero said, voicing what everyone was thinking.

“He deserves it,” Bakugou murmured, surprising everyone.

“Come on, let’s leave them be,” Kirishima muttered, closing the door soflty.

#kaminari x reader #kaminari x reader fluff #denki x reader #denki x reader fluff #fluff #what was i thinking

200 notes · View notes

winetae · 4 years ago

Text

wall to wall (m.) 02

— female reader x hoseok

— smut, porn star!au

— sex work, insecurity, jealousy, slut shaming/objectification, role played scenario that includes: d/s dynamics - dom!hoseok, anal sex, sex toys, face fucking, double penetration, erotic massages, humiliation, degradation, porn star type dirty talk, squirting, creampie, lots of cum (and oil!)

— 19.7k

…

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

Your agent comes forward with a proposition to help put you back on the map.

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

part 01 | part 02 | part 03

author’s note | part 2 is finally here ! ! ty to jordan who has encouraged me literally every step of the way and to ella for supplying a never ending amount of hoseok gifs and pics when i most needed it :’) i’m sorry again for cutting the chapter into two parts but seeing as this entire chunk only amounted to 1/3 of my outline for part two it’s safe to say i would have never finished this fic otherwise ;;

(!) if you are particularly sensitive to humiliation/ degradation then maybe u should skip the smut scene bc jdjffjkfkddkd cries in tears of heaux

SCENE 03 - PULP FRICTION. TAKE 02. ROLL A.

It’s hard to guess how a project will be perceived by the general public. Sometimes a xxx feature film everyone believed would do well sells less than expected, and with online pirating becoming such a rampant and common occurrence, it’s harder to measure the impact of your work. Views and numbers are no longer a reliable indicator of one’s popularity. You’re lucky that you’re signed under such a big talent agency because at least you’re guaranteed regular paychecks, regardless of how well you perform. But to survive in this industry you’re conscious that you need more than that.

According to Seokjin and his expert advice, fans are the ones who will keep an adult entertainer’s career afloat for longer than the average six months. It doesn’t matter how good-looking or well endowed an actor is; if fans aren’t interested and invested, there’s a slim chance that they’ll pay money from their own pockets to view your work. And in order to build such a strong and dedicated fan base, you need one of several things: regular content and an active social media account.

It’s a careful line to tread; not enough online interaction can make people lose interest, but so can overexposure.

You’re patiently waiting for what Seokjin baptizes “The Big Breakthrough” - the decisive project that will propel you into superstardom. None of your videos have ever garnered that type of traction, however, and you’ve been stuck repeating the same old recycled scenarios of plumbers/pizza delivery boys coming over to get the fuck of their life.

When your latest video is uploaded online, you do your best to steer clear from social media. As much as you want to see what people think of your performance, it’s too nerve-wracking to deal with on an empty stomach. You know that if you begin scrolling through the comments, you’ll spend all day glued to your phone, constantly refreshing the page to check for feedback.

And while you aren’t the type of person who lets negative opinions affect your morale, you are nonetheless worried that your time in the industry is about to run out. Lately, the thought lingers ominously in the corners of your mind.

In times like these, exercise is one of the best distractions, second to maybe sex.

Pia, the yoga instructor, walks you through several routines, bending your body this way and that, until your head feels pleasantly blank, devoid for once of any stress and self-doubt. The hour long hot yoga class puts your overthinking mind to rest. In that moment even the notion of time ceases to matter.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.

The instructor turns off his meditation playlist while the room empties out, soft chattering replacing the chirping of birds and the sound of cascading water. Slowly, mind still fuzzy around the edges, you gather your belongings and head straight to the vending machine to get a much needed dose of caffeine.

As you dig around the contents of your purse for spare change, someone comes up from behind and taps your shoulder.

“Eep!” You catch your bag before it can slip from your grasp. “What—”

“Shit, sorry!”

When you spin around, hands clutched protectively over your chest to keep your heart rate steady, you don’t expect to come face to face with Hoseok, of all people.

He grins sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Didn’t mean to give you a scare. I, um, recognized you from afar and thought I’d come say hi.”

Now that the initial shock has faded, you’re free to admire the sight in front of you without any distractions.

As handsome as Hoseok looks under the bright studio lights with his hair styled and make-up applied, there’s something undeniably appealing about the way he appears now - with his hair mussed up and sweatpants riding dangerously low on his hips. While you normally prefer someone who puts more effort into their appearance, there’s something attractive and unpretentious about his casual demeanor that intrigues you.

Heat surges to the apple of your cheeks when you realize that you’re being too blatant with your ogling. Your eyes settle on his face - a safe zone, one that won’t cause any misunderstandings. It’s a nice sight to look at. Hoseok’s face is pretty, the absence of powder and contour not taking away from his handsomeness in the least. His skin glows in a way that can only be achieved post-workout or after an intense orgasm.

This train of thought brings you down a slippery slope. All too soon, your mind supplies images of his long cock filling you up over and over and over again, his lips whispering praise and filth in the same breath. Your gaze flits to his mouth as you recall how red and swollen they’d been after kissing you senseless, how sticky and wet they’d felt against your own, the taste of your own succulence bleeding into your mouth as your breaths intermingled.

“You’re - yes.” You clear your throat, embarrassed by the way you’d quickly let your thoughts spiral out of control. “It’s fine, you just - caught me off guard. How’ve you been?”

Since you last dicked me down, goes unsaid.

“Just finished teaching a class a few minutes ago. I’ve got a 30 minute break before the next one starts.” He checks his watch. “Well, eleven minutes now.”

“You teach here?” You raise your brows, taken aback by his revelation.

Not that it isn’t uncommon for adult entertainers to work two jobs - or more. You’ve run into a variety of cases since joining the industry. Some do porn on the side, as a hobby or as a way to make a quick buck. They quit the moment porn becomes tedious or when they’ve made enough money to pay back their loans. For you, however, it’s not like that. What started off as amateur cam work has now become your whole life. You can’t imagine doing anything else, even if it means going against your family members’ wishes. They could go suck on a rancid cock, for all you cared.

“Yep, sure do. I teach the morning Pilates class on Wednesdays and Thursdays. Funny how I’ve never run into you before, huh?”

He takes a few coins out of his left pocket and inserts them into the vending machine. “Here, get whatever you want.”

“You don’t—”

“My treat.”

You want to argue but Hoseok’s too beguiling for his own good. It doesn’t take much for you to be won over; Hoseok’s smile widens and you’re a goner.

It’s that easy.

You’re not sure if it’s because you’ve seen each other naked before or if the earlier yoga session has successfully weakened your defenses, but you’re not as wary as you usually would be around people you don’t know well. Distrust runs in your veins yet something about Hoseok has you lowering your guard.

Based on your observations, there’s nothing calculated behind his gestures and mannerisms. The blinding grin, the jokes, the way people easily get pulled into his magnetic field - it’s not a facade or an act or a fluke. It’s just the way he is.

Hoseok leans against the vending machine and watches you press in the numbers for your order. From the corner of your eye, you see him studying your profile with a degree of intensity that makes you self-conscious. You swallow down the urge to fidget.

And it’s - silly. He’s seen you bare and at your most exposed, has kissed and touched the entirety of your body from head to toe, but this quiet moment feels strangely intimate, more so than when he’d slid his cock inside of you for the first time. Perhaps it’s due to the absence of cameras and prying eyes or the knowledge that right now you’re both real people, stripped of your porn star persona exterior.

Your eyes meet.

There’s nothing predatory or hungry about his gaze. The passion and the love he’d expressed so naturally during your filmed scenes are no longer detectable. Right now he’s Jung Hoseok, not a character with a role to play. This is all him - the dark circles, the relaxed smile, the slight slouch in his shoulders.

“About—” He clears his throat. “About the other day. The guy that was with you...”

You know without needing clarification who and what he’s talking about. You run your tongue across your row of teeth, wiping away the cheap coffee’s aftertaste, and nod for him to continue.

“He give you a hard time?” Hoseok’s eyes don’t stray from yours. He looks concerned. Serious. “Afterwards I - I regretted leaving so soon. I didn’t want to - I wasn’t sure. But, regardless, I should have made sure you were okay before leaving you alone with him.”

“Oh.”

Realization sinks in. Your eyes widen and you splutter, flustered. “No, no. It’s nothing like that. Jimin - he’s my boyfriend.”

It’s hard to appreciate the concern when all you feel is shocked that someone could misinterpret your relationship for a perverted staff member preying on an unsuspecting porn actress. Although it’s unfortunately common practice in the industry, it’s so far removed from what you share with Jimin that you’re at a loss for words.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Hoseok immediately rubs his face in embarrassment. “I thought - sorry. I’m a dumbass. Ignore me.”

“It’s -” You shake your head. “It’s fine.”

An awkward silence ensues.

You occupy the void by sipping on the bitter vending machine coffee, your eyes glued to your toenails peeking out the top of your sandals. Any other time, you’d fret over the chipping nail polish and rush to schedule an appointment at the nail salon, but your thoughts are so jumbled up that you can barely string a coherent sentence together.

Jimin - he isn’t anything like what Hoseok’s implying. Implied. You know this. But the fact that someone could mistake him as such doesn’t sit right with you. You want to defend him but at the same time you don’t know what to say.

“I just,” he sighs, breaking the silence. “I’ve seen it happen before. I’m sorry I assumed the worst. I guess I’m too paranoid for my own good. I hope I didn’t offend you too much. Or him.”

“No - I’m - I understand.” You give him a small smile to let him know you don’t harbor any ill feelings over the mistake. Hoseok seems so genuinely sorry about the entire situation that it’s impossible to hold it against him.

It’s possible, you think. To misinterpret your relationship with Jimin. The situation back then had been so tense - you remember that better than anyone. Given the context, Hoseok had every right to be mistrustful, especially when no one had bothered to set the record straight.

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“There’s no harm done.” You hesitate before continuing, “I’m that way too, you know. I tend to think the worst of people when I probably shouldn’t. I thought - I was worried about you at first, too. When we met. Not because - it wasn’t anything against you personally. I’m just distrustful. But I’m glad - that it was you and not someone else.”

His posture relaxes. “Thank you. I’m glad that it was you, too. And that I was able to prove you wrong about me. With the shit you hear and see happening on set… I don’t blame you for being on your guard.”

“Yeah. Maybe we’ll - oh. I think someone’s calling you.”

Hoseok follows your line of sight to where a small group of his students are huddled behind the glass panel separating the Pilates classroom from the hallway leading down to the changing rooms. They’re all female and look around your age, maybe younger. The one who had been waving her arms wilts under the attention of her teacher, blush high on her cheeks, while her group of friends dissolve into a fit of giggles.

“Ah. That’s my cue.” Hoseok sighs in apology, the corner of his lips tugged downwards into a pout. “Sorry. Would’ve loved to get coffee and catch up but alas. Duty calls.”

“Next time.”

“Yeah, definitely. I’ll hold you up to that. And it’ll be proper coffee next time! Promise.”

“Okay, deal,” you agree easily. “I’ll buy.”

He looks somewhat offended. “What - no, that’s not what I meant.”

“It’s only fair.” You gesture at the half-empty plastic coffee cup still warm against your palm.

Hoseok opens his mouth to object but a short-haired woman pokes his head out the open door. “Yo, teach! Wasn’t class supposed to start five minutes ago?”

“I’m coming!” Hoseok shouts back, waving his student back inside. “Arrogant brat.”

“Go, go!” You urge, holding yourself from physically pushing him towards the classroom. His group of students look like they’re willing to jump you if you keep hogging his attention.

“We’ll Rock Paper Scissors it!” He says while jogging backwards. “Gotta run but see you around, yeah?”

Your lips pull into an amused smile as you watch him retreat back to his classroom. Through the glass panel, you can see the horde of girls flock around him, each vying for his attention in different ways. You’re especially impressed by how one almost succeeds in drowning Hoseok in her generous cleavage.

The sight of Hoseok dealing with thirsty college girls is so ridiculous you can’t help but giggle. You’re tempted to attend one of his classes just to watch them all trip over each other in an attempt to seduce him. Maybe you could even learn a thing or two.

With that thought in mind, you leave the gym center in high spirits, feeling refreshed and rejuvenated, ready to tackle on whatever hurdles the day decides to throw your way. You hum along to a top 40 hit they constantly play on the radio and decide to stop by your favorite restaurant to get take-out before heading home.

As you get into your car, you turn on your phone you’d disregarded all morning and are immediately notified of five missed calls and several unread text messages. More than half are - unsurprisingly - from your agent. You’re tempted to ignore him for an hour or two longer but you know how he gets once his patience runs thin.

“Don’t tell me you were out with Jimmy again,” Seokjin groans once you decide to call him back.

“I was with Hoseok, actually.”

“Hoseok?” Seokjin instantly perks up on the other side of the line. “As in, Jung Hoseok? J-Hope? Your baby daddy? That Hoseok?”

You contemplate ending the call.

Begrudgingly you concur, “Yes. That one.”

“Oooooh. Do tell,” he eggs, the smugness in his tone so thick that you can visualize it.

“It wasn’t - whatever scandalous thought you’re thinking. He works at the gym I go to. What are the chances, right?”

“What are the chances indeed.” Despite the lack of juicy gossip, he sounds pleased. “The news I rang you for earlier involves him.”

“How so?”

“Your video with Hoseok has been the number 1 trending video on Bang Gang’s home page since this morning!” He squeals, enthusiasm making the volume of his voice raise by a notch. “People are eating that romantic insemination stuff for breakfast and lunch. The views on this are insane! We haven’t gotten such a big reaction since the Agust D teacher-student role play and that was ages ago.”

“Wh- Are you serious?!”

Unable to contain the elation that surges through your chest, your face breaks out into a giant grin.

You’re admittedly the first to say that the number of views doesn’t equate to one’s talent or prowess in bed, but you also can’t completely disregard what this particular achievement implies...

While belonging to a reputable agency has its perks, it also entails continuous competition with big names. Your coworkers are also your competitors. Every month the most successful porn stars are rewarded and praised, whilst the ones who rake in the least amount of views are cast aside and are fated to fade into anonymity.

As much as you hate to acknowledge it, you’ve never had the support or interest it takes to contend for 1st place on any popularity polls or rankings of the sort. On Wednesdays, it so happens that the number one trending video spot is usually occupied by a popular femdom porn star who’s been in the game long enough to have secured a loyal fanbase.

Seokjin understands and empathizes with your excitement more than anybody.

“Yes, I’m serious! I think this is It, you know? Your Big Breakthrough, the moment we’ve been waiting for. You’ve been doing well so far but I think we’ll be able to go mainstream with this,” he chatters on, excitement building with every word. “Director Ryu said he’d personally call you up later to congratulate you, so don’t turn off your phone and ignore your calls, okay? I think he wants to ask you to film in his next movie but he didn’t discuss the details with me. Whatever it is - please say yes. I know the guy is a little pompous old fart but he really has an eye for this sort of thing. Casting you and Hoseok in the same film was the work of God. The chemistry between the two of you is unreal, no wonder people are jacking off to this at 10 am while they eat their cereal.”

You think it’s too early to rejoice in the success of your video considering the majority of the viewers are sleeping or busy at work - but when THE SPERMINATOR retains its number one ranking for the remainder of the week, you know your achievement deserves to be properly celebrated.

True to Seokjin’s word, Director Ryu does end up calling you. He wants to work with you and Hoseok again for a new film - and possibly more.

“A multi-film contract? You want to sign one with me?”

“How could I not? You’re both naturals and work well together. More importantly, the camera loves you. And people are on board with the pairing already! I think it’s a good idea to capitalize on their interest, don’t you think?”

It doesn’t take much more to convince you — not that you need any convincing at this point.

You refuse to be a flash-in-the-pan star. Although you admittedly had your reservations at first, the unexpected success of the last film is all Ryu needs to persuade you.

And - you like Hoseok. It goes without saying that there are far worse people to be partnered up with. Besides, it’s easier to work with co-stars you’ve starred in movies with previously for multiple reasons. Your acting is much more likely to come off as natural if you’re already acquainted with the dick that’s about to split you open - at least, that’s what you tell yourself.

When you mention the possibility of working again with Hoseok, your boyfriend doesn’t seem to share your enthusiasm.

“So it’s not a one time thing?” He’s not looking at you directly, his attention fixed instead on the freshly brewed coffee he nurses in his hands.

“I mean—” You smile tentatively. “Director Ryu hasn’t said for how long he’ll keep hiring us for his projects. Maybe - maybe he’ll keep the format and hire different actors in the future? He - he didn’t really say. I don’t think he has much of an idea himself. He’s very...peculiar.”

You force out a laugh, but your attempt to lighten up the atmosphere falls flat.

“I see.” Jimin brings the coffee cup to his mouth to hide his grimace.

You don’t need to see his dejected expression to know that he isn’t pleased with this development.

“Do you - is there something wrong with Hoseok?” You hesitate, unsure of how he’ll reply.

Jimin’s never insisted you step down from a project before or expressed his dissatisfaction with any of your ‘artistic choices’, although you always imagined that someday, somewhere down the line, he might. Compared to your past dalliances, Jimin is understanding and empathetic. You don’t expect him to be perfect, however, especially when you yourself are far from that. Everyone must have their own personal limits, right? It’s unfair to ask Jimin to be accepting all the time.

It’s just that...the timing is bad.

You want to take his feelings into consideration, but you’re also aware that this might be your last opportunity to get your name out there once and for all. Your previous works have never tanked, so to speak, but they’d mostly gone by unnoticed. While you’ve managed to make ends meet in the past, such anonymity cannot go on for much longer if you want to remain in this line of work.

Your lipstick wears off as you bite your lower lip. Silence hangs heavy in the air.

Jimin sets down his cup of coffee and averts his gaze.

“No. No, there’s nothing wrong with him.”

You breathe out in relief, only now realizing you’d been holding in your breath as you awaited his answer.

“It’s a bit difficult,” he admits after a pause. “Watching both of you together... Not because it’s bad! You did really good last time. You always do, but - saying ‘I love you’, that kind of stuff, it’s - I don’t know. It’s not your fault, though! I just need some time to adjust. Next time shouldn’t be as strange - since I know what to expect...”

You blink slowly as your brain registers the confession. His words echo in your ears and a strong feeling of déjà-vu washes over you. He’d said something along those lines before, hadn’t he?

Jimin shrugs like it’s no big deal before continuing, “As for Hoseok... He seems like a good person, I guess. I don’t think he’s the problem. Whether it’s him or another guy...” He sighs. “I think I just need to work this out on my own. It’s not like I can ask you to turn down a job offer because of me, right?”

Guilt makes your stomach turn. He’s right. As much as you want to respect his feelings, you can’t bring yourself to turn down the job for his sake. Does that make you selfish? Does he think less of you for it?

“Alright...” When you reach out to take his hand in yours, his skin is surprisingly cold to the touch. “You’ll tell me if it ever bothers you, okay? Filming this - or anything else. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable with what I do...”

You’re not sure what you’ll do if that moment ever comes to pass. Work is your number one priority in life. Many of your relationships haven’t worked out because of that very reason but your past lovers’ dissatisfaction hadn’t been enough to change your mindset. After all, work is what helps put money on the table, not love. You shake your head, as if the action will help you get rid of your stressful thoughts.

Jimin nods as he interlaces his fingers with yours. On normal days, holding hands together puts your mind at rest. You love the way his hand fits in yours, the different skin tones blending into one.

Right now, his pale hand feels unnaturally cold against your own. It feels like winter itself is embracing you and you repress a shiver.

Maybe as his girlfriend it’s not the right choice to make, but — you can’t falter now. It physically pains you to admit it but Seokjin’s worrying isn’t unfounded. Your career is stagnant, your projects predictable and boring. You’re not bad at your job, but you don’t stand out amidst the sea of pretty girls hoping to make a name for themselves.

There’s no guarantee that Director Ryu’s new project will be as successful as the first. You’re no stranger to false hopes; there’s a chance that Seokjin’s wishful thinking might never amount to anything. Even so, you want to give it a shot. Not trying feels too much like giving up and giving up is not an option you’re willing to consider, not when you’ve already put so much on the line.

You’re not a quitter. Seokjin had warned you from day one that it wouldn’t be easy and you’d taken his lessons and warnings to heart. You’d become an adult entertainer fully aware of the trials and tribulations you’d have to face and had been prepared to make the necessary sacrifices in order to achieve your goals.

But are the risks truly worth it? Looking at Jimin’s dejected expression, you’re not so sure anymore.

They’ve really gone all out this time, you muse as you cast a cursory glance at your surroundings. A small, electric waterfall fountain sits in the far right corner and crimson colored scented candles are dispersed all around the elaborate massage parlor set-up, dousing the room in a cosy, amber glow. It’s a surprising sight because porn sets are famous for never focusing on the details. Viewers are here for the sex, not the generic backdrop of a rented room or hotel suite.

Director Ryu vehemently protests.

“That’s precisely what sets apart my works from your average pornography film. I want the viewer to be completely immersed in the movie they’re watching. Porn is too constricting and underwhelming a word. What I’m creating is a feast for the eyes, one that leaves a lasting impression after consumption.”

“Ah... Yes.” You try (and fail) to sound impressed.

“People want to believe the sex is real, even if it’s just for an hour.” He sighs deeply, sounding pained, like explicating such a simple fact isn’t worthy of his time. “They need the escape and it’s our job to make it happen. A few extra candles might not make a colossal difference at first glance. But that’s where you’re wrong! It’s never been about the candles. It’s about the ambiance! The visual experience!”

It’s a pity the new budget doesn’t extend to your wardrobe, you remark internally as your gaze drops to observe the stylists’ pick of the day.

For the upcoming scene, you’ve been instructed to squeeze into a tight, baby pink shirt that stretches obscenely over your bust like something straight out of a frat boy’s wet dream. Inwardly, you congratulate yourself for hitting the gym religiously because your clothes—or lack thereof—put everything on display. The cotton material of your shirt is so thin, you’re surprised the stitches haven’t popped out, while the denim bottoms you sport are so tiny that you could hardly qualify them as shorts. Although—you suppose that there isn’t any use debating over semantics. It’s not as if they’ll stay on long enough for it to matter.

The scenario that you’ll be acting out today is pretty straight-forward. You stop by the parlor to cash in a voucher gifted by a generous and thoughtful friend. Hoseok, who plays the role of an erotic masseuse, gives you a deep tissue body massage worthy of a five star review on Yelp.

Director Ryu is extremely proud of the pitch. His spectacles glint as he pushes them up the bridge of his long nose.

“We’re gonna call it My Bare Lady. Haha, get it?” He gloats. “It’ll be different from our last shoot - the both of you aren’t supposed to be acquainted with each other at all. In fact, there won’t be any romance. We’re aiming for something new because as artists, it’s our duty to reinvent ourselves every day. Complacency is the enemy of creativity.”

At the mention of Hoseok, your gaze flits over in his direction.

His brown hair, two shades lighter than the last time you’d run into him, is swept to the side, giving him a professional and tidy appearance. He’s swapped his workout attire for beige scrub pants and a matching shirt. The color compliments the glow of his tan and the cut of the uniform is flattering to his figure. Diretor Ryu’s speech continues despite your wavering focus.

“—visual stimulation. That’s why one shouldn’t underestimate the proper use of props. A believable setting sets the tone for the rest of the scene. If you don’t believe the role you’ve been given, then why should the audience?”

“Mhm,” you nod here and there but you’ve long stopped paying attention to his one-sided speech.

Your eyes linger on Hoseok’s arms and the dimples that appear every time he laughs. You’re not the only one who stares. A small group of admirers flock to him like bees swarming around a rare and exotic flower.

You’d noticed it before but today confirms it; Hoseok’s presence is riveting. It’s not the first time today your gaze has strayed his way. More than once, you find your eyes drawn to him like a moth to a flame only to quickly avert your gaze whenever your eyes meet. Each time, the right side of his mouth quirks into a half-smile, the beginning of a question forming on his lips.

It’s embarrassing to be caught red-handed gawking but, in your defense, you aren’t the only one who ogles him—and many of them are far less discreet than you try to be, some gazes curious, others downright lecherous.

It bothers you. What exactly do you and everyone else find so fascinating about his character? He’s good-looking, sure—but you’re no stranger to handsome and pretty co-stars with nicely shaped dicks. You can’t put a finger on what sets him apart from the rest.

The gaffer comes over and momentarily interrupts the flow of Director Ryu’s monologue with a personal inquiry. Thank God. You use the opportunity to slip away, grateful that someone has put an end to your misery. As thankful as you are to the director for the career opportunity, you could do without his long-winded speeches that never seem to end.

“Hey, Hoseok.”

His smile widens, the corners dimpling the moment he spots you. “Hey! It’s been a while. Who would’ve thought we’d get to work again so soon, huh?”

“I didn’t think our last movie would do so well, honestly.”

Without its success, who knows what kind of movie you’d be participating in right now? Another re-hashed version of ‘BABYSITTER GETS CREAMED’ type scenario, most probably.

“I guess that’s a testament to your acting skills, right?”

You smile back, sheepish but nevertheless pleased. It always feels nice to be complimented, especially on days like today when you’re feeling less confident than usual.

“You changed up your hair.”

“Yeah! I thought I needed a change.” He threads his fingers through his locks self-consciously. “It looks fine, right?”

“It does!” you agree with an enthusiastic nod.

Jimin, who had insisted to be present on set today, hovers on the edge of your periphery. In the back of your mind you know he means well—that his presence is meant to be a source of support and security. On a typical day, you’re relieved that someone you trust is close by in case the situation escalates. While you’ve never had any horrific experiences, there have been the occasional uncomfortable encounters behind the scenes. Thankfully, Seokjin or Jimin have always stepped in before whichever entitled asshat could get too handsy.

But for the first time, his presence doesn’t comfort you the way it usually does.

Your smile becomes stiff.

The last thing you want is for Jimin to misunderstand the situation... Despite his claims of not having any problems with you shooting again with Hoseok, you can’t forget the stony expression on your boyfriend’s face as he had stared your co-star down, his grip around your waist strong and possessive.

“Are you okay?” Hoseok inquires, noticing your change in attitude. Worry creases his brow. He takes a step forward as if to check up on you.

“I’m okay!” You wave your hands around in the air, if only to maintain the distance separating your figures.

Despite your energetic reassurances, Hoseok looks unconvinced. He tilts his head to the side, his eyes narrowing in concern.

You wrack your head for an acceptable excuse. “Maybe I have pre-performance jitters? It’s nothing serious, though!”

It’s not too far from the truth, either. You feel more nervous than usual... Maybe because you’re aware that today’s shoot will most likely make or break your career. If the results prove to be disappointing, you don’t want to imagine what that means for your future.

You shake your head, refusing to accept any talks of early retirement.

But what other choice will you have, your inner voice argues. If no one is interested in viewing your works, no production company will want to book you for their movies. Even if you’re able to shoot half a dozen films after this failed attempt, the interest and support from viewers and higher-ups will soon dry up.

Hoseok’s features soften.

“Look, I know we don’t know each other that well yet, but if my opinion means anything... I think you’re really amazing.” His deep brown eyes reflect sincerity. “I haven’t had this much fun performing with anyone before and it’s not just ‘cos you’re fucking hot.” He laughs to cover up his embarrassment. “Maybe it’s a bit of a reach to compare the two, but porn is a bit like dancing in a way. There’s a choreography to follow, a certain rhythm and mood you have to get into. But the most important part is the chemistry and trust between you and your partner. And you - when I perform with you, it doesn’t feel like I’m acting at all. Not many people have that ability. For what it’s worth, I think you’re pretty special.”

“T-thanks,” you stutter in reply, taken aback by his candor. “I appreciate that.”

You’re not the only one caught off-guard by Hoseok’s frankness. He rubs the back of his neck and chuckles to fill up the momentary lapse in conversation. A bashful smile inches its way across his face, but surprisingly he doesn’t break eye contact.

You quickly change subjects, unwilling to acknowledge the slight fluttering in your stomach.

“...So, you dance?”

It’s not the smoothest transition, but Hoseok’s face instantly lights up.

“Yes! I mean,” he pauses and clears his throat. “Not professionally. I minored in dance. But it’s something I definitely enjoy, you know, to blow off some steam. Ah, wait a sec—”

He takes out his phone to show you short video clips of his dancing. He pulls up his instagram account and scrolls through an eclectic mix of mirror selfies showcasing his bold fashion choices, dog pics, and videos of him working out and dancing.

“Here’s a recent one.”

You don’t know much about dance but in spite of your little knowledge in the subject, your eyes stay transfixed on the screen in front of you. “Whoa...”

The way he moves is enthralling, for lack of a better word. You know from experience that his body is flexible and agile, lithe and strong, but seeing it in action like this leaves you speechless, momentarily robbed of coherency. You can’t even describe it. His execution of the choreography is sharp and powerful, yet his body doesn’t look rigid. On the contrary, his movements are surprisingly fluid and he never misses a single beat. You watch in astonishment as he pushes himself off of his knees after bending backwards in one fell swoop.

“Eh? Is it even possible to move your body that way?” Surely if you try to mimic him, you’ll look like a flailing chicken. “That can’t be safe...”

Hoseok laughs at your shocked expression. “It takes a lot of practice. You should come to a workshop one day! My friend teaches beginners. He’d be glad if you could join. The more the merrier, right? You don’t need to know any of the basics... And if you’re worried about people poking fun—don’t. Dancing isn’t a competition or anything.”

“I dunno.” You hand him back his phone after watching the video loop back for a second time. “I think my back would crack if I attempted any of that.”

“I think you would do really well! You’re pretty flexible and I don’t think you need to worry about stamina. Your core muscles are also really well developed. Based on what I’ve seen, you have a good sense of balance and beat awareness, so even if you’ve never danced before, you have the body and disposition for it.”

“Well... I guess I—”

“Hey.” Jimin interrupts, plump lips curved into a polite smile. You try not to let your surprise show; you hadn’t even noticed him approaching. He kisses your cheek and slides his hand into yours, clasping it between his own. “Sorry to interrupt, doll. Seokjin wanted to have a word with you before the shoot.”

“Oh.” You blink, your eyes darting back and forth between Jimin and Hoseok. “Um...if you don’t mind?”

“That’s straight,” Hoseok steps back, shoving his hands down his pockets. He shoots you a tentative smile. “I’ll catch you later.”

You feel bad for ditching him mid-conversation after he’d been so nice, but you know how annoying your agent can get when ignored for too long.

Jimin’s fingers tighten around yours. When you look up, he’s pouting, his lips pursed and brows drawn together.

“Is something on your mind?”

You can see the hesitation flicker across his face. When he finally meets your gaze, his expression is troubled.

“It’s nothing...” He looks away again and the grip he has on your hand loosens.

“Hm.” You swallow down any further inquiries, worried you’ll upset him.

“What was that about, anyway?” he asks casually, trying his best to look uninterested. “You and Hoseok look like you’re getting along well.”

“Yeah.” The memory of your previous conversation makes you smile softly despite yourself. “He’s a nice guy.”

“I can imagine.” Jimin mutters under his breath. Before you have time to question him again, he straightens his spine, his features twisting into an apologetic expression. “Look, I gotta help setting up the cameras. I’ll see you after the shoot.”

“Ah... Alright.” You fight to keep the disappointment of your face. Since you only have a few minutes before filming begins, you’d been hoping to spend it with him.

As if reading your mind, Jimin leans in and kisses you, his plush lips soft and familiar against your own. You expect him to pull away after a few seconds but his left hand slots itself behind your neck, bringing you in closer to deepen the kiss. His other hand angles your head to the side, giving him more access, and he doesn’t waste any time before brushing his tongue against the roof of your mouth.

You respond to the kiss as if on auto-pilot, but your thoughts are all jumbled in your head. Jimin’s always been a good kisser but he’s rarely kissed you quite like this. His style is more of a slow-burn, the kind that slowly creeps up on you and leaves your whole body numb with pleasure. Every press of his lips feels like a silent prayer of worship and each swipe of his tongue tastes like adoration. You like that he takes his time, like you’re not just a quick meal to curb his hunger but a delicacy worthy of being savored.

Right now, this kiss feels unfamiliar. Urgency replaces devotion. Perhaps it’s because he’s short on time, but his touch is hurried and sloppy. He bites your lower lip, hard enough for it to hurt, and licks into your mouth when you mewl out a gasp of surprise.

“I wish I could just mark you up,” he pants against your parted lips. They feel tender when you smack them closed.

“The makeup artist is going to strangle you for messing up my lipstick.” You fake a scowl. You’re not half-wrong, though. Once she sees how swollen they’ve become she’s bound to take out her frustration on the closest available victim. “If you marked me for real, she’d probably kill you. Don’t tempt her.”

He chuckles and pulls back, letting his hands fall to his side. His eyes dart to somewhere behind your shoulder, his smile curving into a smirk.

“You’re right.” He sighs, looking back at you. “But that’s easier said than done. You’re hard to resist... Anyone would agree.”

Something dark clouds his eyes but whatever it is, it’s gone in the next blink.

You laugh, pleased nonetheless by his flattery. “Didn’t you say you had to help set up? You’re going to end up in trouble because of me…”

Jimin snorts but backs up all the same. “Don’t worry about me. Besides, you’re worth getting in trouble for.”

Someone behind you gags dramatically. “Absolutely sickening.”

When you whirl around, your agent shoots you a disgusted glare. “I was wondering what was taking you so long but I should’ve known you two were out here fabricating babies. Have you no shame?”

“I’ll see you after the shoot!” Jimin says quickly, eager to get away from Seokjin and his sharp tongue.

“See you.” You smile sweetly, ignoring Seokjin’s grumbling. You feel a pang of jealousy as you watch him scurry out of sight. If only you could avoid Seokjin’s pre-performance motivational speeches...

“Anyways.” Seokjin looks noticeably less irritated once Jimin is gone. “I wanted to check up on you before filming could begin. How’s your ass doing?”

You don’t bother hiding your grimace. “Squeaky clean and stretched.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” He sounds proud. “Don’t make that face. It’s your first anal scene after all. Doesn’t hurt to be prepared, right?”

By ‘be prepared’ he means following a strict diet prior to shooting, waking up at the ass crack of dawn to get a colonic, stretching out your asshole for a good thirty minutes using a fuck ton of lube, and constantly rehydrating yourself throughout the day to the point where you’d gone to the bathroom more times than you could count on one hand.

You’re never this thorough with prep before having anal but apparently that’s the difference between fucking in the privacy of your own home and on camera.

“There’s a reason why cleanliness is one of the fundamentals of anal sex, especially when shooting porn. It’s a pain...in the ass...but this way, no one sees something they’d rather not see,” had explained Seokjin after giving you a non-exhaustive list of detailed steps to follow. You suppose there’s logic behind his reasoning. Due to the magic of 4k-quality videos, viewers can now easily see everything, down to the sweat droplets dotting your hairline and any makeup-covered skin imperfections, so you don’t want to imagine what they’ll notice once the camera zooms in on your back entrance.

“Eventually you’ll get used to squeezing water out your bum on the regular.” He shrugs. “You’ll also start to avoid certain foods on your own. The dietary restrictions aren’t that bad, all things considered, and your body will thank you for eating more spinach than you’re used to. Greens are good for your health even if they taste like yuck.”

Athough his suggestions are well-intended, you don’t need another 25 minute speech on all the know-hows of filming anal sex. The first time had been more than enough.

“Thanks for the advice!” you interject right as he opens his mouth to continue his counseling. “That reminds me I need to get this butt plug out of my ass before we start shooting.”

Seokjin sighs. “That would be preferable, yes.”

He doesn’t need to know that you’ve taken out the butt plug in the bathroom half an hour ago. Any excuse will do, as long as you’re spared from listening to his passionate discourse on the benefits of high-fibre food diets and his long list of enema tutorial video recommendations.

The fussing, you think, is unnecessary. You’re not worried about the upcoming sex scene, even if it will be the first time someone other than your partner sees you in that position. No, what troubles you is the possibility of the audience growing tired of seeing you onscreen now that they’ve witnessed you take it up the ass. Boredom is the reason why so many of your peers are forced to end their careers prematurely, after all. Why else is Seokjin so adamant about you pacing yourself and not filming everything there is to film right off the bat? You’ve always held off shooting anal, double penetration and the likes, for that very reason. Although you have no qualms with the act itself, you’re worried that you’re now one step closer to retirement.

The thoughts sit on your shoulders like a heavy weight as you get ready for the scene to come. You listen to Director Ryu’s instructions as he describes the scenario’s key points, your character’s motives, and what sex positions you should include before the scene comes to an end.

“The rest is up to you,” he says with an encouraging nod. “I want the words to come from the heart! Let yourself be a vessel, a way for your character to express their innermost desires.”

“Leave it up to us.” Hoseok’s smile radiates confidence.

“I like your enthusiasm!” Director Ryu approves, clapping his hands together. He misses the way his two leading actors exchange exasperated glances over his shoulder. “Good, then we’re all set? Remember where the cameras are positioned, please, or else we’ll have to reshoot to get the right angles.”

“Got it.” You nod, eager to get this show on the road. Between him and Seokjin, your ears are about to fall off from the incessant chattering. Even the camera men are starting to grow restless.

Speaking of... You meet Jimin’s gaze, the sides of your mouth upturning the moment you spot him. As usual, he looks slightly out of place standing between the other crew members, his white, ironed dress shirt neatly tucked into his black pants providing a stark contrast with his co-workers’ unkempt appearance.

Jimin mirrors your smile and your shoulders immediately relax. A lot of people may not understand why you’d allow your boyfriend on set while you’re fucking someone else, but his presence brings you a strange sense of comfort that’s hard to put into words.

The sound of your name being called pulls you from your line of thought.

“Can you scoot over to the right? Just a little.” Director Ryu orders while glancing at the monitor. “Yes, that’s much better. And can we fix the lighting, please? My shadow’s getting picked up by the camera.”

Now that the start of the shoot is right around the corner, your stomach cramps up with a nervous kind of anticipation. Your tongue feels like cotton in your mouth and even when you swallow, the unpleasant feeling doesn’t go away.

You clasp your hands together in your lap to hide the minute trembling of your fingers. It’s strange, you think. Ever since you started working with Hoseok, you always get too wrapped in your thoughts. Not necessarily in a bad way, at least not all the time, but --

“You all good?” Hoseok asks, low enough that the mics won’t be able to pick up his questioning. “Do you need some water?”

You shake your head. “I’m good, thanks.”

He hesitates but doesn’t push. “I just wanna run this with you one last time. I know we already signed the consent forms but I’d feel better talking with you about the scene directly.”

“Oh.” You remember he’d done something similar last time, too. “Sure.”

“Anal aside, are you okay with the use of degrading names during the scene?” His eyes never leave yours, like he wants you to know how serious he is.

“I’m okay with you calling me a whore.” Your shoulders loosen up. It’s easy to relax when you’re on familiar territory. Working in this industry requires complete transparency. There’s no shame in discussing your kinks just like there’s no shame in admitting the acts you’re not comfortable performing. “As long as I can call you a slut.”

“That’s fine.” His lips quirk up, but not in a mocking or dismissing way. “I don’t really have any hard limits myself, except for what you’ve already seen on paper. Degradation is fine with me. Call my dick tiny all you want, I won’t take it to heart.”

You laugh, forgetting to keep the volume down. “I’ll keep that in mind…”

“So degradation is fine. Is humiliation okay as well? Situational and verbal?”

“I like that.” You bite your lower lip as you remember your encounter with Min Yoongi a month or so ago, how turned on you’d been from his words alone. “I’ll admit I haven’t dabbled too much in BDSM on the porn scene, but I enjoyed what I’ve done so far.”

“That’s good to know.” He raises his brow. “Ever since we received the pitch for today’s movie I’ve been trying to think of ways to make it, uh, more interesting. So to speak. But I didn’t want to take any initiatives if they made you uncomfortable. Oh, also I meant to ask if there was anything you wanted to include in the scene aside from anal sex.”

Somehow you’re not surprised he’s put thought into this. Last time you’d worked with him, he’d been overflowing with suggestions as well. Maybe because the previous filming formats aren’t as flexible, but it’s not often you meet someone so willing to exchange ideas before filming.

The change is more than welcome. For the first time, it feels like your opinion actually matters. The two of you quietly go back and forth discussing different possibilities while the filming crew finish setting up the set the way Director Ryu wants it.

“Alright,” Ryu calls, settling into the director’s chair. Somewhere in the background, the gaffer wipes off his brow. “Everyone ready to rooooollll?”

Hoseok takes a few steps back and reaches for a nearby clipboard.

Miraculously, you note distantly, the swarming of butterflies in your stomach is now gone. Your palms are no longer clammy and cold with perspiration. When you swallow, there’s no lump of nerves stuck in your throat.

Hoseok sends an encouraging smile your way right before Director Ryu yells “ACTION!” and he schools his features into a more polite, appropriate expression.

He doesn’t speak up right away, just walks over to where you’re sitting on the massage table in a leisurely manner. You open your mouth to fill the silence but he beats you to it.

“Welcome to Happy Ending Clinic, where we ensure every client leaves feeling 100% satisfied. We guarantee high quality services personally adapted to suit the needs of our every client,” Hoseok says in lieu of greeting, the lilt in his voice smooth and practiced, like he’s used to repeating this introduction multiple times throughout the day. “My name is J-Hope and today you will be in my care.”

“Nice to meet you.” You’re careful to keep your back ramrod straight, hoping the stiffness in your body will be picked up by the cameras.

The role you’re playing today is more reserved and awkward than the usual unabashed and bold characters you’re used to acting. And while it’s not your first time pretending to be coy and shy for the cameras, such behavior isn’t second nature.

His smile, whilst professional, radiates warmth. You suppose it’s meant to be reassuring.

“I will do my best to make this session unforgettable.”

His gaze sweeps over the clipboard sitting in his hands.

“Hmmm... ______, is it?” When you nod in affirmation, he continues. “It says here it’s your first time visiting our establishment.”

You’re surprised at how naturally he adapts to the role he’s been assigned to. The words that roll off his tongue sound like his own.

“Yes... Honestly, I - I didn’t think it was necessary, but my friend insisted - I mean, she recommended I visit this place...said it would do me some good.”

You wring your hands in your lap. You’re lucky the character you’re playing today is supposed to be a little shy and rigid. Otherwise, you’re not sure Director Ryu would have let your awkward stuttering slide.

“That’s not a problem.” The lines of Hoseok’s mouth bend into a reassuring smile. “Let’s see... It says you’ve booked an hour-long session?”

“Yep.”

“Then with your permission, I’d like to take fifteen supplementary minutes to find out which massage course is best suited for a novice like you. It’ll be free of charge, of course.”

You nod, eager to get the show on the road. Given your character’s disposition, maybe you should have pretended to mull over the proposal for a few seconds more - if only for appearance’s sake - but you’re tired of all this talking. Impatience gets the best of you.

“Oh! Yes, that sounds fine.”

He pulls out several colorful mock pamphlets and hands them over for you to peruse their contents. You try not to let your astonishment show.

It’s the first time you’ve seen a prop team this devoted to their task. Although the insides of the brochures remain blank, you still can’t believe someone actually took the time to print out fake brochure covers. You appreciate the effort, even if the covers do look like they’ve been made by someone who’s looking to major in ‘graphic design is my passion.’

You hold one up at random and pretend to read through it, hoping that whoever will watch the movie later will ignore the ugly block font that spells out ‘NAUGHTY MASSAGE : FOUR HANDS EDITION.’

“Inside, you’ll find a detailed explanation on the various vegan, cruelty-free products we use. All of our treatments are oil-based and you can choose the scent of your choice. If your skin is particularly sensitive, we have essential oil-infused body butters that work just as effectively and leave the skin silky smooth to the touch. Depending on your skin type, you might be interested in testing—” He takes out several jars all while explaining the different health benefits of ylang ylang essential oil.

Once again, you’re caught off guard by his convincing performance. Even though you’ve been given several pointers by the director before filming, Hoseok is the one who ultimately calls the shots. Inwardly, you wonder how he manages to come up with such original lines on the spot. Despite not being a professional actor, Hoseok’s intuitive choices are beyond your expectations.

The thoroughness of his explanation makes your head spin. Cruelty-free products? Body butter? You have no way of knowing whether his statements are fabricated for the sake of the vague storyline - but you suppose the credibility of his words doesn’t really matter in the end. It’s the small details he sprinkles here and there that help you immerse in the scene.

His proficiency in acting makes all of your worries melt away. It’s hard to believe he’s only a rookie, just starting off his career, and not an acting veteran with dozens of movies under his belt.

Not wanting to be entirely overshadowed by your co-star, you furrow your eyebrows, determination set into your features.

“I’m sorry... I’ve never done this before. They all look the same to me.”

“Ah.” Still, Hoseok’s smile stays amiable and professional. “Well, let’s go about it this way - why do you think your friend insisted you visit our establishment?”

You catch your bottom lip between your teeth, your gaze dropping to the floor in order to avert his probing stare. “I - um. I haven’t had - I mean, I guess I’ve been stressed lately. More pent up than usual. I’ve tried exercising and meditating and mas- uh...well everything, honestly. But nothing seems to work. I’m snappy all the time and...frustrated.”

Today, the character you’re playing is a bit more bashful, too timid to voice her desires into spoken words. “It’s all about the tension! The build-up!” Director’s Ryu’s voice echoes in your mind as a reminder.

“I see,” Hoseok nods, taking your comments into consideration. “On a scale of 1 to 10, how would you rate the quality of your sleep?”

“A five...” you say after a moment’s hesitation. “I don’t wake up during the night, but it takes me a long time to fall asleep.”

“Do you feel any pain anywhere?”

“Pain? No, not really.” You roll your shoulders back, conscious of the way your perky chest juts out, nipples prominent through the cheap fabric. “My neck does feel sore from time to time but I think it’s because I work an office job. They say staying hunched over in front of a computer all day is bad for your health.”

His gaze roams your figure, quietly assessing. “It is.”

“May I?” he asks, taking a tentative step closer. “I think I’ll need to gauge your level of sensitivity for myself. We’ll adjust the intensity of the massage depending on how much pressure you can withstand and how your body reacts to different types of stimuli.”

Your brows lift. “Oh. Sure, why not.”

“Move back a little. A bit more.” You obey his instructions without second thoughts. “That’s perfect, thank you.”

Your legs dangle awkwardly over the edge of the massage table. You can probably close them if you wanted to, but you don’t miss an opportunity to expose yourself in front of the cameras. The shorts you’re wearing are more like tiny scraps of denim put together with the help of a few stitches. You’re certain that if someone were to really look, they’d see the outline of your pussy lips.

Hoseok walks around the table to stand behind you. The sensation is somewhat familiar—right away, you’re reminded of the first encounter with Hoseok, the one where he’d wrapped his arms around you and whispered words of love into your ear. You close your eyes and let the images flash by in quick succession. The memories all come rushing in at once—an artist’s lips painting your skin like a brush would canvas, a potter’s agile fingers molding your body from clay, a lyricist’s tongue composing sonnets into your weeping, open cunt. Your body remembers it all.

When he finally touches you, his hands radiate warmth the shadow of his memory does not.

A shudder runs down your spine.

Oblivious to your inner thoughts, Hoseok carefully gathers your hair into a ponytail and moves it out of the way. His mobility no longer restricted, he lets his slender digits travel down the slope of your neck, the pads of his fingers digging into the meat of your shoulders.

“You’re unusually tense here.” Concern colors his voice as he increases the pressure.

Suddenly the discomfort you’re to convey to the audience is no longer feigned. “Ow!”

The wince that mars your face is authentic. You try to wiggle out of his grasp to relieve the sharp ache in your shoulders. Hoseok’s grip is strong, however, and he keeps you exactly where he thinks you ought to be.

“Hmm...”

He massages your arms one by one. The circular movements he traces across your skin are a lot more gentle this time around, and you allow yourself to slowly relax under his touch. He manipulates your body like one would a rag doll, pulling your arm over your head.

“Can you reach behind, towards your neck? How about a little lower? You should feel a stretch here.” He taps at an arm muscle.

“Yeah… I can definitely feel it.”

You suspect that Hoseok’s stunt as a Pilates instructor is what’s helping him sound so experienced and natural.

“Good.” He lets out a pleased hum. “Hold the position for as long as you can.”

His hands reach around your body to squeeze your perky breasts. You gasp at the rather rough way he handles your tits. Perhaps it’s because you’ve been told to forgo a bra, but you’re much more conscious of his every action - from the way his fingers splay out, cupping the fullness of your breasts between them, to the way he kneads your mounds with his entire palm as he gropes you from behind.

“How often do you masturbate?” he asks in an almost offhand manner, his tone is more clinical than casual. The question is crude and direct enough to distract you from the way his fingers encircle your nipples through the cotton fabric of your shirt.

You recall Ryu’s earlier directions: unlike your first movie together, this tryst is not romantic in nature. The scenario that you’re acting out this time doesn’t involve sweet kisses and whispered declarations of love. Feelings aren’t on the table.

You pretend like the bitter taste you swallow down isn’t disappointment.

“Um.” You struggle to remember the initial question. Luckily, your mental buffering comes off as bashful and true to the character you’re playing. “I, uh, I guess masturbate often?”

“But it isn’t enough, is it?”

His question comes off as slightly patronizing. Before you can formulate a suitable answer, Hoseok’s fingers tweak your hardened nipples and your back bows under the pressure. You oscillate between the desire to thrust your chest out in offering, and the pressing need to flee the sharp sensations his skilled hands provoke.

“I - um!” You squirm helplessly as he continues playing with your breasts. “It isn’t!”

“Just as I thought.” He pinches both of your nipples and pulls at them until you cry out in half-pain, half-pleasure. The thin material of your shirt doesn’t dull the ache; if anything, the cotton scratches your skin, rubbing the nubs raw.

Despite your very visible discomfort, Hoseok doesn’t let go. You can only sit there obediently while he has his fun, knowing that if you wiggle too much it’ll only worsen the pain.

“Ah!”

Only then does he release them. You fight against the urge to cover your sore nipples. Your flimsy shirt hadn’t provided any protection against his rough onslaught, none at all.

“You’re quite sensitive,” he observes, giving your breasts one last squeeze.

Finished with his appraisal, he steps away and picks his clipboard up. He makes his way around the massage table, coming back into view, and scribbles something onto the paper with a ballpoint pen. He looks so absorbed in his work that you almost fall for the act.

You worry your bottom lip, crossing your arms over your chest self-consciously. Without a bra, your hardened nipples are clearly visible through the thin shirt. They jut out in a distracting way; Hoseok’s eyes drop down for a split-second in appreciation before flickering back to the clipboard in his hands.

“Your body is wound up. It’s tense in places it shouldn’t be.”

“Is that...a bad thing?”

“No. Your case is not abnormal.” He shakes his head and offers you a reassuring smile. “Although... Hm. When was the last time you achieved an an orgasm?”

You look away, mumbling your answer in an embarrassed voice. “Last night.”

More scribbling. He taps the end of the pen against his chin, pretending to be lost in thought.

His eyes glint when he asks, “How many times did you cum?”

It’s not real - none of this is - and yet you can feel warmth spreading from your cheeks down to your chest. It’s a strange sensation, stuck somewhere between humiliation and arousal, and it makes your entire body heat up from the inside out.

“Just - Just once…”

“Look at me.”

Your eyes snap towards his on command. He looks relaxed, unbothered, like he’s discussing the weather forecast and not your masturbation habits. You want to look away but something in his stare pins you in place.

“You’re telling me the truth, right?”

“Yes! I’m not - I wouldn’t lie.”

“Good.” He smiles pleasantly, nodding to himself. “So. You came once. Did you use your fingers? Or, perhaps, a toy?”

He’s still staring at you, forcing you to look him straight in the eyes while you confess your sins. Your thighs clench together and you struggle to focus on the conversation at hand.

“F-fingers.” Your breathing becomes ragged as you imagine Hoseok’s fingers replacing your imaginary ones. They’d fill you up nicely, too. Compared to your own, they’re longer, capable of reaching places yours can’t. All you’d have to do is hook your arms under your knees and keep your legs spread wide open. He doesn’t even need to take your clothes off; he could pull the seam of your shorts and underwear to the side and fuck you just like that. “I only used my fingers.”

He raises an eyebrow like he doesn’t quite believe you. Somehow, that makes the fire between your legs burn hotter. It’s like - he knows you’re too cockhungry to settle for just fingers. And if a mere stranger can tell how desperate you are to get fucked, what about the rest?

“Interesting.” Hoseok’s eyes darken by the minute. “And do you prefer clitoral stimulation to penetration?”

“I-” You pause and struggle to formulate your response. Your ears feel hot. In fact - your entire face feels like it’s on fire.

The embarrassment you feel doesn’t make sense - you’ve never had any qualms discussing sex. You can talk candidly about any topic for hours on end, from the condom brands you prefer to advice on how to maintain a rash-free pussy, to the point where some people might think you’re over-sharing or being too crass. Discussing intimate topics shouldn’t be a problem.

It’s not even a real dialogue anyway, so why do you -

“Yes?” Hoseok leans forward, interrupting your train of thought. The corner of his mouth is upturned, like he can’t help but be amused by your discomfiture.

“I like, um.” You close your eyes, hoping that it’ll somehow make the admission easier. It doesn’t. The darkness makes you feel even more exposed, like all your secrets are laid bare for him to see. Your voice quivers when you answer. “I - I touch - I mean, sometimes I’ll - my fingers aren’t long enough. So just rubbing the outside is - fine.”

“Ah. You like being stuffed full, I take it?” Hoseok’s vulgar vocabulary makes your eyes snap open in shock. He smirks, not expecting you to answer. “Poor girl.”

You shake your head, your reply dying in your throat. With every word he utters, your thoughts become fuzzy, muddled.

“What did you imagine last night while you were getting off? A stranger fucking your face? Big men taking turns using your cunt? Tell me. In detail, preferably.”

“I don’t see how-” The sharp look in his eyes makes you swallow down any protest. Still. You can’t get your mouth to work correctly and you look back at him helplessly.

“Is there a reason why you can’t tell me?” He tilts his head to the side, the smirk on his face growing, canines flashing. “Oh. I see.”

You flinch, your face impossibly hot.

“Were you thinking of today’s session?” He chuckles, delighted. “That’s quite naughty of you. Although, I can’t blame you, can I? We are known to deliver the best orgasma. It’s only natural to imagine what would happen.”

That’s right, you think. You’d spent all night fantasizing about a faceless, nameless stranger’s hands all over your naked body. How long had it been since you’d felt someone’s touch? Their tongue buried deep in your cunt, fucking you until your thighs trembled? Even your best dildo couldn’t hold a candle to a hot-blooded, throbbing cock.

Hoseok taps the pen against the clipboard, the staccato sound filling the silence.

“One last question.” He makes sure he has your undivided attention before continuing. “No need to look so worried. I won’t ask you what lewd thoughts you get off to, although maybe in future sessions I’ll expect that of you.”

You don’t linger on the implication there - that you’ll undoubtedly come back for seconds - and nod your assent for him to go on.

“Did you cum hard while thinking of getting fucked by me today?”

You inhale sharply, struggling to hold his stare. “I… The sheets were so wet afterwards, I had to change them.”

“I see.” He jots something down on his clipboard but his reaction doesn’t give anything away. Nervously, you pull on a loose string hanging from the hem of your short. “Hm…”

After a few seconds of silence he speaks up again, done with his assessment.

“Well, normally for first timers such as yourself we’d recommend starting with a more soothing body massage. But I think in your case a more thorough massage is needed. It’s not a cause for concern!” He adds quickly, as if to assuage any growing fears. “But in my professional opinion, I think the massage I have in mind for you might be more beneficial than the beginner level massage.”

“Um, what does this massage entail exactly?”

“We call it the full treatment. In other words - it’s a deep tissue penetration massage,” Hoseok explains calmly. “It includes an internal massage. We’ll use a variety of methods but rest assured - all techniques are tried and tested! You’ll be in safe hands.”

You pretend to mull it over.

Hoseok waits for your nod of confirmation before instructing, “There are towels at your disposal.” He motions to the pile of fluffy white towels folded neatly on the bench. “Feel free to use them. While you change into a...less restricting outfit, I’ll go retrieve the rest of the massage equipment. See you in a bit!”

And with that he’s gone. The privacy he grants you is, of course, just an illusion. Even without looking in their direction, you know that the cameras’ lenses are all focused on you, waiting to capture the impending striptease. You’d forgotten about them but Hoseok’s absence reminds you of their presence.

Per Director Ryu’s earlier instructions, you make a show of taking off your clothes. Teasing the camera comes naturally to you thanks to your prior experience as a cam girl; you know exactly which angles are the most flattering and which ones, on the other hand, emphasize your flaws.

Your back arches as you peel off your shirt, drawing attention to the swell of your breasts and the curve of your waist. Not long after do you shimmy out of your shorts, exaggerating the swing of your hips for the audience’s viewing pleasure. You try not to show your surprise when the dampness of your crotch sticks to your folds as you pull them down your legs - you hadn’t expected how much a simple tit massage and few exchanged words would rile you up.

The denim pools around your ankles and when you bend over to retrieve the useless item of clothing, you’re acutely aware of how your wet, waxed pussy peeks out from between your thighs. You stay in position, giving the camera ample time to zoom in, and while the stretch isn’t painful (thanks to your yoga lessons!), it is a rather awkward position to maintain.

Once you straighten up, you take a few seconds to fold up the shirt and itty bitty shorts before setting them aside. Normally, you’d leave your discarded clothing strewn about but you can’t imagine your character behaving in such an uncouth way.

With that thought in mind, you wrap yourself with a short towel. Rather than covering your intimate bits, it’s so short that it emphasizes your nakedness. When you go to sit on the massage table, the towel rides up, leaving you exposed and you have to fold your hands in your lap to preserve a semblance of modesty.

It’s easy to convey nervousness while you wait for Hoseok’s return. While you’ve never attended any drama school, you have watched plenty enough Netflix dramas to know which physical cues are more or less effective - constant fidgeting, shifty eyes, audible gulping. Since it’s your first time putting your knowledge into practice, you’re not certain how convincing your acting is, but hey, isn’t it the effort that counts? You’re not here to audition for the starring role in Hollywood’s next summer blockbuster, after all.

Hoseok knocks twice before entering, stopping your self-depreciation in its tracks. He’s abandoned the earlier clipboard for a large, nondescript, white cardboard box that rattles with every step he takes. It sounds more ominous than it actually is.

If Director Ryu is truly aiming for realism, he wouldn’t make Hoseok carry back the items in a fucking box, you think privately. Who even does that? Although you suppose realism isn’t the be-all end-all, no matter how much the director insists. Sometimes viewers like to be metaphorically edged and endlessly teased, and all this guessing only adds to the build-up, making the climax more than worth it. They could, of course, fast-forward to get to the juicy sex scenes, the crux of the matter, but you’d like to believe all this extra effort is worth it.

You blink curiously back at Hoseok, feigning ignorance.

“Oh good.” He beams in your direction, his eyes drinking in your scantily-clad figure. “Now that you’re more comfortable, please lie down for me.”

He sets the box to the side, opens the lid, and takes out a bottle of oil while you settle down on your stomach and carefully rearrange your towel so that it covers your bum.

“I’ve chosen bergamot essential oil for today’s massage. It’s a nice, citrus-like scent that’s not too overwhelming because it’s been mixed in with sweet almond oil. Its many virtues include, but are not limited to, increasing the body’s energy flow and enhancing feelings of joy and freshness.”

“That sounds lovely.” You sigh dreamily. Getting massaged and getting dicked down in one go? Hell yeah. That one is a no-brainer for sure.

There’s a shadow of a smirk on Hoseok’s face when he rounds on you, like he’s somehow privy to your thoughts. That, or your eagerness is too transparent. You’re betting on the latter.

His voice lowers an octave, the low timber making shivers run down your back.

“Shall we begin?”

He moves your hair to the side, leaving your neck and back exposed. He then pulls down your towel so that it uncovers the expanse of your back and covers more of your bottom half instead.

“Is this alright?” he inquires. As if testing the waters, his fingers trace down the line of your spine, stopping right before your lower back dips into a curve.

You moan your assent. “More than.”

Hoseok takes the bottle of oil and drizzles its contents over your skin like a painter splattering ink onto a blank canvas. He spreads the lubricant all over your back, rubbing your skin in circular motions until you’re coated with it. You let out a few pleased sounds here and there that are not entirely faked or exaggerated. He definitely knows what he’s doing with his hands.

Honestly, you feel sorry towards your co-star who’s stuck doing most of the work while you’re splayed out like a starfish. It feels a bit unfair that you’re getting paid more than him when he’s the one putting in most of the effort. Had you any shame, you’d give him half of your pay for his services. Alas.

“Tell me if it hurts anywhere,” he warns, not unkindly.

Your back stiffens. You expect Hoseok to replicate the rough treatment he’d inflicted to your breasts, but contrary to your expectations, he kneads your body gently, almost tenderly. The contrast between this touch and his earlier ministrations messes with your head. When his hands outline your flank, his fingers prodding the sides of your breasts, you swallow a hopeful sigh as you wait for him to envelop your soft mounds and roll your sensitive nipples between his skilled fingers.

Betrayal brews in your gut when he fails to indulge your fantasies. You’re tempted to grab his wrist and guide his hand to where you need it the most but you miraculously hold yourself back. Since the scene doesn’t call for that much impatience and desperation on your part, you’d hate to be the reason why Director Ryu asks for a re-take.

Thankfully, he soon puts you out of your misery. Hoseok retreats, done teasing the sides of your breasts for the time being. You’re not sure it’s relief or disappointment that swims in your lower belly, but Hoseok doesn’t give you time to dwell on the question. Almost as soon as he retracts his hands from your back, he redirects his attention to your legs. His hands, warm and slick from the oil, glide over the back of your calves and thighs with ease. His thumbs rub circular shapes into your flesh as he slowly works his way up, the pleasant sensations leaving your whole body boneless.

“You loosen up well.”

Hoseok’s fingers skirt the hem of the towel. Your breath gets caught in your throat as he toys with the fabric.

“Will you open up for me, pretty? You look tense right here.” He flips the towel up, revealing your bare lower half. He wastes no time before gripping the meat of your ass cheeks, fingers digging into the supple flesh. He spreads your cheeks apart, cool air blowing against your exposed holes, and lets them jiggle back into place after giving the camera ample time to capture the view. “Hm. Looks like you haven’t been properly stretched out in a long time... We’ll fix that today.”

Bolts of pleasure run through your body. The whole situation is ludicrous and yet, for whatever reason you cannot pinpoint, moisture gathers between your thighs with every passing second, adding to the mess dripping from your folds.

“Um, like this?” You part your legs open slightly, as if unsure. In situations like these, the biggest challenge is to act diffident and coy when all you want is for your co-star to blow your back out.

He tsks, the sound sharp and reproving. It goes straight to your core and makes your belly clench with unspeakable need.

“How am I supposed to fuck your holes open in that position?” He has the audacity to sound impatient. “Work with me here.”

He grabs your ankles and separates them himself, ignoring your yelp of surprise. Unaccustomed to the stretch, the muscles in your thighs strain with the effort to hold the position.

A whine slips out your mouth. He’s so mean.

While you expect Hoseok to act somewhat distant and objective because of the role he’s playing, his fluctuating behavior gives you nothing but whiplash. One moment he’s cordial and friendly, the epitome of what a professional should be, the next he’s treating you like you’re his plaything, not his client.

His grip around your ankles is firm and unyielding. He’s got you spread impossibly wide, your legs dangling dangerously off the edge of the table with your waxed holes exposed for inspection.

“That’s good, just like that.” His hands let go of your ankles when he’s sure you won’t move from the position he’s steered you into. He strokes up your legs, the touch feather-light and fleeting. “Keep your legs spread wide. I want to see your cute little holes on display.”

His crude remarks make your body flush with heat.

Even if this is the sort of place that offers sexual gratification, Hoseok’s wording toes several lines. As his client, he should be focused on giving you pleasure, so why do his comments make it sound like you’re here for his entertainment instead?

Despite your character being fully aware of what type of establishment she’s visiting, you reckon Hoseok’s words are enough to make her squirm in embarrassment. There’s something filthy about the way he orders you around and bends you to his will. Even you’re not indifferent to the impersonal way he handles your body like a doll. Flickers of arousal lick up your spine, and with your legs extended so far apart, it’s not difficult for Hoseok to notice how much you’re wound up.

The position is far from proper. Hot streaks of humiliation burn through you when you imagine how easy and slutty you must seem to whoever is watching. You don’t dare move from the pose he’s maneuvered you into, not because you’re scared of the consequences, but because his presence demands obedience. Even without explicitly saying so, he’s made it clear that for the next hour or so, you’re his to toy with.

“Good girl. You open up so nicely.” Hoseok purrs, satisfied with your compliance. “Now let me see what I’m working with here.”

He swipes his index finger through your glossy folds, the action forcing you to stifle a startled gasp. It’s nothing like the erotic oil massage you’d experienced minutes prior. The touch is inquisitive, clinical, assessing. Like he’s testing out a new product before purchase.

You want to stay still but you’re so wound up from his incessant teasing. The slightest caress makes the hairs on the back of your nape stand straight. Hoseok is all too aware of this fact. The tip of his pointer finger comes in contact with your clit, the touch more delicate than a feather's caress. Hoseok watches with thinly veiled amusement as you jerk against the table.

“You really are sensitive,” he all but coos. “What a treat. Don’t need any oil when you’re leaking all over the table like a faucet. How long has it been since someone touched you here, hm?”

The teasing lilt in his voice borders on condescending. Heat simmers under the surface of your skin as you struggle to collect your thoughts.

“Eight months,” you squeak just as two of his fingers dip into your slicked up entrance.

“No wonder you’re all worked up.” He slides his digits right up to the knuckle, the glide so easy it’s embarrassing. “Needy holes like yours should be used more often.”

He fucks his fingers into your pussy one, two, three times, before pulling away, chuckling under his breath when your hips push back, greedy and desperate for more. Using the same hand he’d used to test out your cunt Hoseok slaps your ass once, the sharp sting making you still at once.

The damp mark on your ass is a testament to how fucking soaked you are. You can’t imagine what kind of mess the cameras are picking up on - but maybe you don’t have to.

Hoseok wipes his fingers off on you, using you to clean himself off. Although you can’t see anything because of the way you’re laying down, everything feels wet and filthy. He rubs your own juices onto your skin, reminding you of the intensity of your need.

And just when you don’t think his mouth can get any filthier, he proves you wrong.

“I can tell you haven’t been stretched recently,” he sighs, almost disappointed. “You’re just gagging for a pounding, aren’t you? It’s a shame your fuck-hole is too tight to take a big cock or I would have given it to you right away.”

Your lower body clenches as his words wash over you.

The idea sounds downright delicious. Hoseok is right. Even if it’s just for the sake of the storyline, there’s nothing more you want right now than a good, hard fucking. It would take him less than ten seconds for him to pull his hard cock out from his scrubs and make a home for himself between your thighs. Images flash through your mind of Hoseok’s hands on your breasts, in your hair, around your throat. You want him to cover you, smother you, as he forces you down against the table and takes his fill. You want his lips on your skin, hot and possessive, as he uses you like the cocksleeve he needs you to be.

God, you want that. You want to be used hard, to be fucked full until you break. You need this - your character needs this.

You whimper, high-pitched and needy. “Please. Please, I want it. I want - I want your cock.”

“I’m sure you do.” Hoseok all but scoffs. “Why don’t you just sit still and relax for me? I’m going to massage you until you’re nice and loose, alright? First-timers like you could get hurt if they’re not prepped properly but I’ll get you ready, don’t worry. By the end of this, you’ll be able to take big cocks in all your holes like a pro.”

“Shit.”

You bite back a moan, startled at how much you’re turned on.

Porn dialogue is rarely arousing. You’re the first to tune out your partner whenever they talk for longer than a minute. It’s because you hear the same exact shitty lines repeated so often that you’re half-convinced there’s a porn acting for dummies handbook being circulated around.

Although… Maybe if Hoseok’s lines had been delivered by someone else, they wouldn’t have the same effect on you. That’s the difference, you think to yourself. Hoseok’s delivery. The cockiness that infuses his every word, the way he confidently carries himself… He does it all so convincingly - nothing like the wooden and awkward memorized performances you’ve witnessed from fellow actors.

While you’re lost in thought, Hoseok rummages inside the cardboard box. Without his touch or words to distract you, it’s harder to ignore the building arousal between your legs. As the seconds tick by, your shameful desire only worsens.

Before you can crane your neck or voice your confusion, Hoseok returns, humming under his breath.

“We’re gonna try a different massage technique now. This method will help with lubrication,” he explains evenly. “I’ll use a special vibrating tool that will massage hard to reach areas.”

“Um…” You swallow, blinking rapidly. “Okay.”

“It’s not as scary as it sounds. We’ll start off slow and I’ll gradually up the intensity once I deem you ready for the next stage. How does that sound?”

A click, followed by a low buzzing, fills the room.

You gasp when the vibrating object comes in contact with the back of your knee. Hoseok’s free hand settles on your leg - a nonverbal reminder to keep your legs wide open for him as well as the cameras.

“See? Nice and easy. Nothing to be scared of.”

He rotates the tool in slow, even circles. You force yourself to relax and accept the foreign massage, disregarding how strange it feels to have small vibrations travel up and down your leg. After a few minutes of him repeating the same motions on your other leg, he slowly makes his way up your thighs, the rounded tip of the tool dangerously close to your drenched pussy.

A pleading whine reverberates in your chest. The electric whirring of the vibrator is not enough to soothe the burning between your thighs. If anything, it makes it worse. You need more, you think urgently.

Hoseok moves to the side of the table so that the cameras can get an unobstructed view of your clenching hole. It’s the first time you’ve seen his face since he made you lie down. From his voice alone, it’s impossible to tell how affected he is. More than once you’d caught yourself wondering… Does he like what he sees? Is he enjoying himself?

A dark streak of satisfaction crosses over you when you notice the hunger in his gaze, his pupils blown so wide his brown eyes look black. Drool pools in your mouth when you spot the sizable tent in his scrubs.

The fact that you’re at the perfect height to suck his dick doesn’t slip by you. He could flip you over onto your back, your head hanging off the table, and use your mouth to his heart’s content. You whimper at the thought of him fucking your face, your mouth reduced to a fleshlight for him to get off. You could probably cum like that - his cock buried deep in your throat, his fingers pressed against the side of your neck to you struggle around his length, while his other hand reaches down to grab at your breast, using it as an anchor to fuck into you harder.

“Shit, you’re really making a mess of my work table.”

Hoseok’s gaze is trained between your legs. He wets his lips and adjusts his hold on the vibrator. The sudden movement changes the angle, positioning the tool right over your dripping entrance, closer than ever to your swollen clit. The vibrations suddenly feel louder and stronger than before. If this keeps up, you reckon that it won’t be long before you’re hurtling towards the edge of a precipice.

A moan slips past your parted lips, loud and wanton. Embarrassed by the sheer need that colors your voice, you quickly shut your mouth closed, hoping that your desperation goes by unnoticed.

Hoseok chuckles, the sound sharp and mean. He comments on your obscene behavior, how you’re acting so slutty it’s a wonder you’d kept this side of you locked away for this long without people suspecting your love for cock. Every word infiltrates your mind, leaves no corners untainted, until all you can think and breathe and smell is him.

“Over the years, I’ve seen a lot of sluts parade in here and pay for my time,” he says, his dulcet tone making the degradation sweeter. You hang onto each and every word, letting yourself fall deeper into a haze of arousal and submission. “But it’s been a while since someone like you showed up. Just look at this… Your little fuck-hole can’t even take a bit of teasing without getting me dirty.”

The buzzing between your thighs switches back and forth between strong pulses and rapid, little vibrations. You keen, shaking from head to toe in pleasure. Your thighs are wet, sticky with your juices, and your clit is hard and aching for attention.

You don’t even want to know what state your sopping pussy is in. Every time your body jerks and trembles, you feel the pool of arousal that’s gathered underneath you. It’s - embarrassing. That you’re this soaked and close to cumming when he hasn’t even touched your clit or fucked you with his cock.

In the midst of your pleasure-induced haze, your eyes meet his. The lines of his face are drawn into a smug expression, his gaze smoldering. Embers of arousal light up his dark eyes, and you can only stare back at him, clit throbbing, as he ups the intensity of the vibrations.

“Fuck! Oh God, oh I’m-” Your legs thrash, hips lifting off the table in an effort to escape the shocks of pleasure zapping throughout your body. Mercifully - or not, depending on how you looked at it - Hoseok brought the vibrations down a few settings, until the whirring had quieted down to a low thrum.

“Feeling good, huh?” The grin he sends your way is positively wicked. “I think you’re ready to take more.”

More? you think weakly. Any more and you’ll explode, like popcorn kernels in a microwave.

For a second you think he’ll bring the vibrator up to your clit. Maybe even slide the long, phallic-shaped vibrator inside your pussy so that it’ll stretch you out like he’d promised. What you don’t expect is for him to bring it down to your other hole, the powerful vibrations rattling you to the core.

Your surprised gasp is so loud, not even the buzzing of the toy drowns it out. Hoseok places his available hand on your left hip and pins you to the table, the gentle weight keeping you steady.

“That’s right,” he soothes, voice smooth like silk. It sounds patronizing, almost like he’s calming down a dog startled by thunder or explaining right from wrong to a small child.

“Um.” You let trepidation inch its way into your voice. “You - what are you doing? That’s not - that’s dirty.”

“What is?”

“My,” you pause, humiliation coiling tightly around your spine. Hoseok presses the toy harder around your rim, its coat of arousal making the tip slide over your sensitive skin. You’re tempted not to answer but you know Hoseok wants you to voice the dirty words. “My asshole. It’s - dirty. Please - I… I don’t think you should touch it. It’s not right.”

You mumble the end of your sentence like you’re embarrassed to say such a scandalous thing out loud.

Hoseok laughs, sounding both mocking and endeared. “Oh, sweetheart. Didn’t you hear what I said earlier? I’m going to loosen up all your holes. Because that’s what you’ve always wanted deep down, isn’t it? To service cock. Even if it means letting me play with this dirty hole of yours.”

The vibrations intensify with the click of a button. Your whole body spasms, limbs flailing pathetically as the sensations run down your back all the way to the tip of your toes.

You bite down a whimper. How does he know? How can he tell? All you want right now is a nice, hard cock buried inside of you - and at this point you don’t care which orifice he sticks in it. You’re just so - empty. So empty it physically aches.

Hoseok dials down the intensity of the vibrator and with his free hand, squeezes a copious amount of oil onto the toy, slicking it up.

Surprisingly he doesn’t bother prepping you with his fingers before easing the toy into your back entrance. From your position, you can’t tell if Director Ryu signaled to hurry things along or if his own impatience played a part. Either way, your sharp intake of breath is genuine.

You try your best to relax your muscles but the toy is thicker than expected, its sides bumpy and ribbed. Even though you’d stretched yourself out beforehand with a sizable dildo, the girth of the toy still makes your breath hitch. Your bottom lip hurts as you scrape your teeth over it.

“Relax for me. That’s it.” Hoseok whispers soft words of encouragement. “You’re doing such a good job.”

Finally, after what seems like light years, the toy is fully inserted, only the base of it peeking out from between your parted cheeks. You feel full, deliciously so. It’s only now with the weight of the toy inside of you that you realize how much you’d missed being stuffed to the brim.

“There you go.” Hoseok smacks your right ass cheek hard enough for the sting to go straight to your clit. “How does that feel?”

“Full.” You smack your lips together. Eloquence is not your strongest suit in the present moment and your lack of coherency only humiliates you further. It’s like he’s rendered you cock-dumb. Reduced you to a lust-driven creature that only has dick on the brain. “I feel good.”

“Of course you’d enjoy that.” The cockiness in his voice is undeniable, like he’s drunk off the power he has over you. “Needy sluts like you only care about getting filled up, huh?”

It sounds like a rhetorical question but you answer it anyway, just in case he wanted an answer.

“Yes! I’m a needy slut. Please - could you…?” You wriggle your hips, trying to entice him into action. The rocking motion jostles the toy nestled inside of you, causing you to choke out a moan. “Hng! Use my pussy this time, please?”

Hoseok clucks his tongue and slaps your ass again to keep you still. It moves the lodged vibrator, knocking it against a spot inside of you that makes you gush. Your pussy clenches up in an imitation of an orgasm - but you know from experience that you haven’t cum just yet.

Fuck. You’re so fucked and he hasn’t even given you his cock.

Your head thumps down against the table as you take in deep, steadying breaths. You can’t think straight; every thought seems clouded by a dense smog of lust. Your body feels like a live wire, all your nerve endings crackling with electricity. How much more can you endure before you shatter beyond repair?

Hoseok takes pity on you. “The vibrating massage should have helped your muscles relax. Your tight cunt should be able to fit this in by now.”

He slides another silicone toy into your pussy, this one wider and longer than the first. Your hands grapple for purchase as your body accommodates both toys, one in each hole. You’re so wet that there’s no resistance despite its impressive size and you suck in a breath as Hoseok keeps pushing it in, inch by interminable inch.

If you thought you felt full before, it’s nothing compared to how stretched you feel now. The wall separating the two toys is stretched thin and when you tense your abdomen, you can feel both of them nudge against one another. Your stomach feels - bloated. As if there’s a bulge where the toys are nestled deep inside of you.

It’s quite frankly obscene.

You’ve never felt more turned on.

“Whoa.” He grips both of your legs and widens them even further, displaying your stuffed holes for the cameras. “Your hungry cunt ate up my biggest dildo like it was nothing.”

The fact that he admitted it was a dildo - and not some vibrating tool - just adds to your mortification.

“Okay. Two holes down, one to go.”

He releases his hold on your legs and raises a brow at you. The smirk is back on his face and that, paired with the ravenous look in his eyes, makes you want to run and hide. He looks like he’s two seconds away from devouring you whole for dinner. “Why don’t you turn around for me? It wouldn’t be a full body massage if I didn’t rub down the other side, right?”

His chuckle spurs you into action. It’s not that you’re not embarrassed by the idea of baring yourself completely for him like some sort of cult offering, but the need to get dicked down trumps all.

Your mind feels fuzzy and your body sluggish. There’s a fire inside of you that not even double penetration has managed to extinguish and it roars to life as you manœuvre into the position he’s ordered you to get into. The toys jostle inside of you, reminding you of the depraved lengths you’d go to because you’re starving for cock.

He’s right about you, you think as you settle onto your back. You’re a needy slut. All you want is for your holes to be filled. And when they’re empty, your body aches with the need to fill them back up again. Toys will do but they’re a poor substitute for what you really want.

Thankfully, Hoseok’s own patience is running out. You’ve barely gotten into a comfortable position when he’s fishing out his cock from his scrubs, not even bothering to remove his clothes.

Drool pools into your mouth at the sight. He’s just as long as you remembered him to be. Not too thick or veiny, but prettily flushed and glistening with translucent precum. How long has he been hard? The erection looks painful. Distantly, you’re comforted by the knowledge that you haven’t been the only one suffering from this prolonged foreplay. God is fair, you rejoice internally.

Your mouth opens of its own accord and your tongue lolls out, hungry.

Hoseok doesn’t comment on your pathetic state - a testament to how worked up he probably is. He guides his cock into your waiting mouth with barely repressed urgency.

His cock is heavy on your tongue, the perfect weight. He pushes in until he can’t go any further, the position you’re in giving him better access to your throat. You fucking love it.

When you swallow around his length, he hisses between his teeth. “Shit.”

He gives you little time to adjust. As soon as he’s certain you can take it, he starts to thrust his hips. His cock drags across the rough surface of your tongue as it’s pushed and pulled out of your mouth at a rapid pace. Each thrust of his hips makes you gag, drool running down the sides of your face, and the obscene sounds of your choking echo in your ears.

The rough treatment should revolt you, make you squirm or shy away, but you’ve never felt more alive. Your mind feels pleasantly blank - like your sole purpose in life is to be a glorified cum bucket, a receptacle for his cock and cum. Even when he buries himself all the way to the hilt, so far down your throat it feels like he’s reached your stomach, you’re eager for more. Logically speaking you don’t even know if you can handle more, don’t have the mental faculty to figure out if more is physically possible, but your body knows that it’ll never be sated, not fully, not until he cums inside you.

“Greedy girl,” he rasps between heavy breaths. “Look at you… I’ve plugged up three of your holes but you’re still gagging for it, aren’t you? Filthy slut.”

His words are meant to degrade and humiliate you. Instead of disgust, you can hear the admiration ring in his voice. His awe satisfies you and you hollow your cheeks, suctioning around his girth just to hear him curse under his breath. You live for the way his hips stutter and how his deep breathing is interspersed by the occasional grunt or moan. It feels good to know that you’re bringing him pleasure, that your hole is satisfactory.

Hoseok reaches over your body and grabs something from the discarded cardboard box you can’t see. You soon find out what it is though - the oil is drizzled over your torso and chest, liquid spilling down the sides of your body. He throws the bottle to the side, more interested in spreading the lubricant over your tits until they’re slick and shiny.

It soon becomes clear that he’s abandoned his earlier massage techniques in favor of a more rushed treatment. Gone is the slow build-up. He rubs your breasts, grabbing and squeezing them like stress balls, and pinches your hard nipples tightly between his fingers, pulling them out until your back arches.

The next time he slams his erect length into your mouth, your breasts bounce from the force of the thrust. Hoseok’s eyes remain transfixed on the lewd way your breasts jiggle; because he keeps your nipples clamped tightly between his fingers, your tits have no other choice but to swing around every time he rocks his hips back and forth.

Every time you gag and choke on his cock, tears prickling your eyes, you feel the fire between your legs grow stronger. Shame and arousal course through you, your head dizzy with lust. You can’t move, can’t scream, all of your moans of pleasure muffled by the cock buried in your throat.

He laughs derisively, pulling out after a particularly hard thrust. A string of saliva connects your mouth to his cock and your eyes zero in on it, finding it impossible to look away.

“You slut.”

He makes a disapproving noise low in his throat before slapping you across the face with his cock.

It doesn’t hurt anywhere as much as a real slap but it’s so unexpected you gasp, your jaw throbbing in pain. The imprint of his cock is wet and dirty against your cheek. He keeps his cock hanging a few centimeters above your face. It taunts you, beckons you closer. The seam of your mouth stays wide open, your appetite evidently knowing no limits.

“Heh. You’re really something… Never seen a whore so cock-hungry in my life. And trust me when I say I’ve seen plenty.” He sneers, walking away.

For a long second, you fear he’s gone and left you high and dry and that the scene will end like that. Except - no. He’s positioned himself at the other side of the massage table. You shudder as you realize that can only mean one thing : he’s going to grant you the fucking your body craves.

Hoseok’s lips twitch into a knowing half-smile. He grips his stiff cock in one hand, the length of it soaked with your spit and precum.

You gulp, suddenly intimidated. Perhaps it’s the angle, but he looks taller than you remember him to be, bigger, his shoulders slightly broader. His cock looks more imposing, too. Despite just having choked on it, it’s long; his hand sits loosely at the base of his cock, leaving a few good inches poking out of his fist. Your mouth goes dry, your insatiable hunger reawakened.

The impatience marring your features is probably disgustingly obvious because Hoseok makes another comment about how desperate and pathetic you look once you’re deprived of cock.

Using his left hand, he slowly removes the toy from your ass. The slide is painful because you’re clenching so hard down on it, unwilling for your hole to become empty once again.

A whimper escapes your parted lips. Hoseok laughs at the betrayed look that crosses your face at the loss of the thick dildo.

“So fuckin’ greedy.” He slaps your entrance with his cock, his grin wolfish as you wail in reply. “Stay still if you want my cock.”

Immediately you freeze, taking his words to heart. Deep down, you know that he won’t be that cruel but you’re so exhausted from the never-ending teasing, that you’re not willing to take any chances.

Hoseok holds up one of your legs and pushes it over his shoulder.

“Good girl.” He breaches your ass, both of you moaning as his cock works its way inside of you. It’s a tight fit; you can feel his cock bump into the vibrating dildo in your pussy, the feeling overwhelming you. He grunts, fingertips bruising your skin as he hold back from cumming too quickly.

His hips work up a steady rhythm, the both of you already so close to finishing. You know that a lesser man would have cum ages ago, but Hoseok troops on, eyebrows creased in concentration. He looks - hot. Ridiculously hot, even in that dumb fake masseuse uniform.

His once perfectly combed hair is now disheveled, strands of hair falling over his eyes and dripping brow. There’s something about all of it - the wild glint in his eyes, the rough way he’s fucking you, the domineering aura that he exudes - that makes you absolutely lose it.

You clench up on his cock without warning, your insides squeezing around him even more tightly because of the toy still lodged in your dripping cunt. The orgasm rips through you, fast and hard, leaving your thighs soaking. Hoseok fucks you through it, his cock relentless, drawing your pleasure out until your body goes limp.

It’s the kind of orgasm that on a normal day you could only hope to achieve.

Except Hoseok doesn’t stop to let you rest or take a breather. He brings your other leg over his shoulder, testing the limits of your flexibility, and uses the new angle to plow into you with renewed force.

“Ah - ah fuck wait!” You cry out, overwhelmed by the onslaught of sensations traveling through your body. “Oh my God, oh shit! You’re so fucking deep, ah!”

Hoseok chooses that moment to turn on the vibrating dildo. He doesn’t even start at the lowest setting, sets it straight to one of the higher level ones, and your whole body jumps. Both of you moan as the toy comes to life. The vibrations rattle your insides - and that, coupled with the fat cock that’s splitting you open relentlessly, threaten to rearrange your insides.

Arousal builds again quickly inside of you, pulsing steadily alongside your heartbeat.

You feel so fucking full you think it’s possible you’ll burst. Before, when you had both toys buried inside of you, the stretch and the fullness had been pleasant. You had even been able to tune it out for the most part once you’d got used to it.

But with the way Hoseok is now fucking into you with reckless abandon, it’s impossible not to be reminded of how stuffed your holes are. Every thrust of his cock in your ass bumps against the vibrator, pushing it harder against your bundle of nerves.

“I knew the minute I saw you,” he growls, his pace punishing. “No bra, pussy ripe for the picking. Whores like you could never be satisfied with the beginner massage. No, I knew exactly what you needed.”

He adjusts his grip on your ankles and the change in angle keeps the vibrator pressed directly the sensitive bundle of nerves inside of you.

“Fuck! Oh God, there there! Please, keep going. It’s so good. Fuck me!” You chant, out of your mind with pleasure.Your words are raw, unrefined, and in any other circumstance, you’d laugh at how ridiculous you sound.

“You’re so fucking loud,” he hisses between grunts of pleasure. “Why don’t you go ahead and cum for me. Make yourself useful and tighten up this hole of yours so I can feel good.”

He reaches down between your legs and fiddles with the switch.

You scream. Your eyes roll back and your entire body locks up. Intense pleasure that you’ve never experienced before thunders through your body. If your previous orgasm was like a building wave crashing to the shore at long last, this one is a fucking tornado determined to rip you to pieces.

Maybe you might’ve passed out. You don’t know. But when you regain consciousness, Hoseok’s cock is pulsing jet after jet of hot cum inside of your pussy. You feel it spurt inside of you, coating your already slick walls with his essence.

He pulls out quickly so that the camera can zoom in on the way the cum oozes out of you in thick globs. Instinctively you clench your walls to keep more from leaking out, but it only pushes more of the mess out, painting your inner thighs white.

When you glance up at him you notice his shirt is soaked. There’s a huge dark spot that starts from his chest to his pants. He doesn’t seem to mind the stain.

“You came so hard you passed out,” he informs you while tucking his spent cock back inside his scrubs. “I came inside of you while you were out of it but I figured you wouldn’t mind. That’s what you came here for, right?”

The smile he shoots your way looks more like a smirk. You bite your lip. He must’ve taken out the dildo - or it might’ve gotten pushed out during your orgasm, you don’t know - and you feel your holes gape a little after being stretched and used for so long. You’re tempted to snap your legs shut but you know the cameras need to record your debauchery.

“I’ll let you change. You can meet me out front to schedule your next appointment. Hm let’s see… Considering how well you reacted during this session I think we’ll have to take more, hm, drastic measures next time. I’m curious to see how far your greedy cunt is able to stretch with enough incentive. I’m positive that with you anything is possible. We’ll try fitting two cocks insides for starters and maybe - ah. I’m getting carried away.” He chuckles. “Anyways, meet me at the counter in ten minutes and we can go over the details then.”

“I…” You wet your lips. “I’d like that.”

A silence ensues and for a second you think your acting was bad or you’d said the wrong thing.

“CUT! And that, my friends, is what you call art!” yells Director Ryu, clapping his hands like a seal.

You breathe out a sigh of relief and sit up despite your muscles protesting loudly. God, your ass feels sore. Hoseok had really done a number on you.

“Hey, are you all good?” He asks, drawing closer to you in concern. He must have seen your grimace.

“Oh! Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for asking. It’s just - it was kind of intense. In a good way! I’ll probably be sore later but that’s because I’m not used to these kind of scenes yet.”

“You were really hot. I couldn’t tell this was your first anal scene at all.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Really.” Hoseok sighs dreamily. “I think I saw Jesus when I came.”

“What?” You bring a hand to your mouth to muffle your laughter. “It was a good nut, I take it?”

“The best.” He looks over at you, dimples on his cheek as he returns your smile. “I blacked out for a second and went to heaven.”

You bask in the afterglow for a few minutes longer than you usually would. Hoseok makes no move to leave either, even if logic dictates that you’re both better off washing up instead of letting the mixture of sweat, cum, and oil dry on your skin. You know from experience that it’s hard as fuck to clean up once it hardens - not to mention it stinks.

“Babe!”

You’re roused from your peaceful state of mind as your boyfriend approaches. He’s smiling but one side of his mouth looks stiff. He hands you a towel, eyes trailing down your figure, and suddenly you feel self-conscious. You hurriedly wrap the fluffy material around you, eager to hide the cum still dripping out of your swollen cunt and the red marks littered over your body from Hoseok’s rough treatment.

It’s not - you’re not ashamed. You never are. It’s just - you don’t want to hurt Jimin. Even if it does come with the job, it can’t be easy for him to see his girlfriend getting fucked by someone else.

“That was so good! You did great. The camera really loves you. I can’t wait to see how the final cut turns out,” Jimin compliments and you preen despite yourself, conditioned to suck up praise. “Are you hungry?”

Just on cue your stomach lets out a grumble.

Jimin’s eyes crease into crescents as he smiles. “I knew it. You’re always famished after a scene. It’s a good thing I booked a reservation at our favorite restaurant, right?”

You nod, thankful yet again that you have such a caring and thoughtful boyfriend. “I’m famished now that you mention it.”

Hoseok observes the exchange silently and his presence makes you embarrassed for some reason. Maybe not embarrassed but - something. You can’t put a name to the emotion.

“Um, I’ll see you around?” You say as you gather to your feet. Jimin is instantly by your side, his hand wrapping around yours tightly. “It was nice working with you again! Thank you for your hard work.”

Hoseok’s lips quirk into a half-smile. He’s still eyeing the both of you in a strange, intense kind of way and the scrutiny makes you fidgety. You try not to make your desire to flee the scene too transparent.

“It’s always a pleasure. I look forward to working with you again.”

The words he utters are tactful and diplomatic - nothing like the carefree familiarity he’d showcased minutes prior. You don’t blame him, given the circumstances.

You shoot him an apologetic look as you turn away to leave. To your relief, Hoseok doesn’t appear dejected or offended. Just - curious, maybe? Pensive? Like he’s in the middle of solving a complicated and intricate puzzle and that puzzle involves you.

The idea scares you. Mostly because you yourself don’t know what he’ll find.

As soon as you’ve rounded the corner, Jimin excuses himself. “I have to finish helping the guys. There’s still some equipment to put away. But we’ll meet out in the back like last time?”

“Sure.”

He kisses your cheek and scampers away.

Seokjin is waiting for you in the next room over. He’s holding a water bottle, your favorite silk robe, and a dark chocolate energy bar. You’re so sweaty that it feels silly to wear the robe but you shrug it on anyway, knowing that Jimin will feel better if you’re not parading around the set naked.

Your stomach rumbles loudly and it’s only then that you realize the extent of how fucking hungry you are. Non-stop sex sure is tiring, you note while ripping open the energy bar with your teeth. Seokjin calls you a savage under his breath but those types of comments are so commonplace that it’s easy to tune him out.

“God, I could kiss you right now,” you say after swallowing down a mouthful of granola. After eating spinach exclusively for the past three days, the sweetness on your tongue tastes like a slice of heaven.

“Not with that mouth, you won’t.” Seokjin narrows his eyes. “I know where it’s been.”

Still high from your mind-shattering orgasm, you giggle and pretend to kiss him just to watch him squirm. It’s not until much later, after you’d washed up as best you could with the help of baby wipes, that you check your phone. You respond to a text or two before finally checking your social media page out of habit more so than anything else.

(2) new notifications

JHOPE94 has followed you!

JHOPE94 has mentioned you in their story.

It’s the same account Hoseok had shown you earlier in the day. You follow him without much thought, grinning to yourself when you read his bio “hope on streets and in the sheets ;)”, and click on his Instagram story.

You’re surprised to learn he’s one of those people who uploads multiple pictures about just about anything - his Starbucks’ coffee cup with JAY written in black sharpie, several mirror selfies, a snapshot of his shoes, pictures of the film crew setting up the scene. You click through the pictures, a little flummoxed by the random collage, and pause when you get to the picture you’d been tagged in.

It’s you. Squinting, you realize that he must have taken the candid picture in passing. You’re sitting in the hair and makeup chair, the makeup artist applying a layer of gloss on your lips. The row of lights that border all around the vanity mirror give your figure a halo spotlight effect.

JHOPE94 : not in heaven but i saw an angel today :))

#once again the italics did not transfer over but i rlly can’t be bothered at this point ;;#i am so happy this is done but also nervous agshsisjskss #bts smut #hoseok smut #bts #hoseok #also as usual I did not proof the last 4k bc I speed wrote the last bit in one go #believe me when i say i cannot look at this draft any longer !

1K notes · View notes