#CRASH x reader

[reds-writings]

bird in a cage

(pairing: crash!rust cohle x f!reader)

word count: 1.5k

a/n: a bit of a concept fic surrounding rust in his crash era i've had in the drafts. if you would like more let me know 🫣. y'know i love me some feedback

warnings: men being gross, ginger, hints at prostitution, ginger, language, sexism, etc (let me know if i missed anything!)

There was something almost eerie about Crash whenever you got the chance to be in actual proximity to him. Something lost. 

Something broken. 

It made you want to hide away anytime those tortured eyes met yours. Like you were in the wrong, an intruder of some extreme fortitude of privacy. Heavy and asphyxiating.

Despite your trepidation around Ginger’s righthand man, there was always an underlying thirst to know more. 

He was a handsome fella. You’d be stupid to deny it. All the other girls around knew it too and had no shame in chittering every chance they got ever since he manifested into your lives in the extreme bore that was East Texas.  

Ginger wouldn’t let you speak much to him. Although, that wasn’t entirely uncommon since the fucker wouldn’t let you speak to anyone much at all.

Just sit there and look pretty, doll. You’re ass ain’t good for much the fuck else. He’d say. Damning you to be some cheap whore in an even cheaper cage til the day you got ugly or died.

You’d never anticipated this is where you would end up in life. You’re sure not many girls do but thanks to your pathetic shit-heel of a brother who got himself tied up in some irreversible mess you’re now indebted to a gang leader who thought doing you a mercy was enslaving you to work for him for the rest of your days. 

Some nights you dreamed of putting one right between his bloodshot baby blues. God knows the world could do with one less of a son of a bitch like him. Gruesome consequences that’d be sure to follow be damned. 

The night air was cooler than usual, offering a small reprieve to your sun-tightened skin. You’re sure by age 40 you’d look no better than some beat-up leather couch left on the side of the road. Any money you did get to keep wasn’t prioritized for shit like sunscreen or maybe even fancy aloe like those girly cosmetic magazines you’d sneak mentioned. 

The bonfire tonight was a busy affair. Ginger made some big steal so that granted cause for some hearty celebration. Most of the men seemed to be in a nicer mood than usual, but you made no effort to leave your post on an old bourbon crate in the background. Any peace to oneself around here was a blessing and you were gonna take as much of it in as you could. 

Tired fingers fumbled with your lighter, you’d been meaning to get a new one but finding a moment to step away from the Crusaders was harder to come by than one probably thought.

By the look of your chipped nails, you could do with swiping that new shade of OPI that caught your eye in the corner store some weeks ago too.

“Didn’t peg you as a wallflower.” Your solitude was shattered by the presence of a rumbled drawl. Nearly having your poor soul shooting out your body. Whipping your head in the direction of the unfamiliar timbre you almost did a double take. 

There Crash stood, looking almost indifferent despite being the one to walk up to you in the first place. He wore some weathered-looking muscle tank repping a band you had no knowledge of and a pair of jeans that had definitely seen better days. Up close you got to take in just how well-built he was. Sure, Ginger was a hefty man, but Crash had definition to him. Like something out of a poster blushing teens would have of some heartthrob idol shamelessly plastered on their bedroom wall. 

His face was a whole other story, one you wouldn’t bother getting all wax poetic about. As pretty as it was. 

Snapping out of your short-lived reverie you huffed something resembling a scoff, 

“Didn’t know you could speak. Let alone leave Ginger’s side for more than a few minutes.”

In the dim lighting, you couldn’t initially make out whether or not that had amused him, but the glowing orange hue from the tip of his own cigarette highlighted the ghost of a smirk adorning the corner of his thin lips. It had you picking at the frayed edge of your shorts to not look so childishly in awe. 

“You got a light?” You pushed forward and asked. He shook his head no but instead offered his cigarette wordlessly. The act stilled you, but you took the small offering nonetheless, inexplicably entranced after only a few words from the man. 

Those eyes of his tracked your every move as you brought the cigarette to your lips. You tried with every fiber of your being not to be affected by this strangely intimate ripple of time you’ve just stepped into. To not let your thoughts drift to the fact that those same lips were just where yours are currently as you inhale acrid smoke.

You don’t feel all that successful.

“Camels. That’s surprising.” You exhale, flicking the ash as casually as one could in this scenario. You prayed Ginger wouldn’t notice his absence any time soon. Something resembling greed regarding Crash’s attention sinking its claws into you.

“Hm…how so.” He took it back from your grasp, the action strikingly gentle. 

“All you rough boys out here smoke Reds. Hell, you even look like one of those Marlboro cowboys in the ads.” 

“Should I be flattered?”

“Don’t pretend like you don’t know about all the girls around here just positively gushing over you. You don’t strike me as the naive type.” 

“You know cause you one of em’?”

That shut you right up. Though only for a second. If he could feel the growing heat radiating from your cheeks he made no sign of it.

“Careful now, wouldn’t wanna sound too cocky.” You sassed, looking past him at the partygoers. His gaze felt penetrating and you couldn’t figure out for the life of you where this sudden interest to talk to you came from. There was no chance in hell of entertaining a single thing with Crash. Ginger would skin you alive for even catching you like this, as plain of an encounter as it was. This was more trouble than it’d ever be worth. 

But there was not a fathomable force that could seem to pull you away. 

“You’re different. Than the others I mean. You stand out.” Was what clambered from your mouth as you looked back at him. 

It was true despite its clumsy admittance. Even though you’d never said so much as a hello to each other Crash was different. He never bothered you. Never jumped at the chance to use you like some piece of meat. You wouldn’t say he went as far to outright show blatant respect, but he gave you space to exist unlike anyone else had. 

He didn’t so much as flinch at the statement. 

“Could say the same about you.” That alone had a cold shock similar to that of an ice bath encasing your entire being. It was a casual reply, but between the lines, you knew what he was saying. 

He saw you. 

No one ever saw you. You were a nobody. Just a warm vessel to sacrifice to the selfish woes of pigs disguised as men. You weren’t meant to have thoughts or feelings. Likes or dislikes. You were just there. 

Yet he noticed you regardless and you hadn’t ever brought attention to the possibility that he could in the first place.

You didn’t know something so small and noncommittal could make the sting of saline burn at the backs of your eyes. You felt like every existing nerve within you had been exposed but when continuing to stare at him, he held no judgment. That brokenness that took home in his stare was replaced by something else. A curiosity. 

Much akin to the same type you let fester for him over these past several months. 

The smoldering cigarette dangled from his lips, though you didn’t dare let yourself catch a glimpse, as a large hand hesitantly reached towards your face. The rough pad of his thumb scarcely graced the fragile skin beneath your eye to brace a blooming tear. 

The simple touch was indescribable. Something you never thought you could know for yourself. 

All you could think about was how warm he was.

“Birdy! Where the hell are you, girl? Get over here!” Came Ginger’s sudden drunken hollering, the moment doused in the shroud of reality as you all but jumped away. Crash’s arm stayed frozen in mid-air, his once prodding stare almost muted in agitation at the Crusader’s crude interruption. 

You shakily wiped at any reminisce of emotion, fiddling with your hair as if you’d been caught doing something more than just simply talking. Guilt and fear bore onto your shoulders like a burdensome cloak in record time. You needed to go before Ginger got too antsy. 

Looking back up at Crash, you were met with that same indifference as if the moment was just some figment of your imagination. Stewing in the sudden change would only lead to unnecessary embarrassment so all you could do was utter a quick ‘bye’ as you stumbled off towards the bonfire, heart racing something worrisome. Off to where you’d be reduced back to feeling like the piece of nothing you always were. 

It took all the willpower in you to ignore the lingering burn of the lost man’s stare and keep on toward everything you’d come to detest in your life. 

[yandereunsolved]

،، a penny for your thoughts ”

˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙— —˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙ ˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙——˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙

a snapshot into every character's yandere tendencies ⛃

Yandere FIXER Team • Crash, Duke, Izzy, Lilly, Peanut, Pops, Target, Wes[ley] •

🅨🅐🅝. 🅒🅡🅐🅢🅗

He's the classic "he acts like he hates you but sticks to you like glue." He's constantly chastising you, murmuring about how you're the worst out of all of them. (Worst because you're the only one that makes him out of breath by just looking at your armor.) It's ironic because you're the only one allowed in the watchtower with him as he listens to the radio. He actually prefers your voice to the radio. It's a first for him, and he hates it.

He can't believe he managed to fall in love at the most inopportune time, in the least romantic place, around the worst kinds of people. He's lovestruck, like some military cupid ordered an arrow right into his heart.

He needs to keep you safe. He wants downtime and peace, naturally, but you're part of that reason. If he lost you, he doesn't know what he'd do—probably kill Duke. There's an 80% chance Duke would have a hand in your death, accidentally, of course. It's just that you can't have Crash attached to you like some foreign parasite and not get mixed up in Duke's crossfire (aka his shenanigans, aka his damning incompetence, as Crash would put it).

🅨🅐🅝. 🅓🅤🅚🅔

Wild card extraordinaire.

He's not exactly subtle about his feelings. He's probably confessed ten times over while in his permanent state of drunken inebriation. You dismiss it as Duke being Duke, and it wouldn't be unreasonable to think that. He flirts with anyone he thinks is attractive. It's embarrassing that he finds you attractive and you're his teammate, but it's just how he is, so you can't help but grow accustomed to it.

He does the grabby hands a lot and just tries to hang off you, blabbering about anything that comes to mind (mostly explosives or alcohol, usually both).

He's probably, most definitely, blown up others who have tried to get your attention, as long as they aren't on his team. Although, his murderous tendencies may still may extend to within the team, he may or may not be willing to stage a death to keep you near him. He'll make Target a target any day. He'd never touch Pops, though, unless he was insanely jealous, and he doesn't really see Peanut as a viable "threat" either.

Your presence gets him drunker than any alcohol. He needs you in his system ASAP. He may have life withdrawals if he doesn't. He doesn't have an alcohol "problem"; he has a you "problem." (Yes, these are actual things he has said/would say to you.)

🅨🅐🅝. 🅘🅩🅩🅨

Peanut writes stories. Izzy writes fanfiction. Take a guess at which one has more smut and tension in it. It's Izzy, in case you were unsure.

She doesn't exactly know how to approach her darling, so she mostly writes her feelings in fic form. You are always some sort of supernatural entity, like the classic werewolf or vampire, and even omegaverse. She's totally into mpreg. So if tab restore is on, I suggest you don't check the computer. At least don't read her latest one about two soldiers on the same squad, where one is pining after the other hopelessly and is eliminating everyone else on the squad systematically until only her darling and she are left. It isn't like she can actually murder everyone on the team, for better or worse. A girl can dream, though.

She'll ask for your help by name most likely. She dislikes calling you by your codename because it seems too impersonal for her. She just says you're a good assistant, and she doesn't say that about anybody. She mostly prefers to work in silence or with you carrying the conversation. She finds that the words get stuck in her throat.

How does she tell you that she's planted a tracker in your suit? Or that she's compiling an entire database on you and has looked through your private records (which definitely breaches trust and breaks at least one military rule)?

She feels... guilty. But she loves you, so it's worth it. You do anything for your loved ones, even if they don't know you'd die (or kill) for them.

🅨🅐🅝. 🅛🅘🅛🅛🅨

She's patient to some extent. She's content with simply being near her darling and helping them when she can. She'll always be really friendly and may overdo it because she's so nervous. She's her own worst critic when it comes to relating to you.

"What if they hate me because I said something wrong?" (Lilly had a simple conversation with her darling.)

"I didn't help them in time." (Her darling dropped something and it fell on their armored foot.)

"Urgh, I'm so stupid! Clearly, they needed that and not this." (She was trying to help but didn't know how to and grabbed the wrong thing. Her darling, in all honesty, didn't mind or even notice.)

"If I were a better soldier, then they'd like me." (Darling was talking to Pops and has a friendly relationship with him.)

"How incompetent can I be? They could have gotten hurt because I wasn't careful enough." (Lily almost bumped into her darling.)

She'll hesitantly bring her feelings to Wes and ask what to do. Even leaving out the darker bits of her attraction to you, Wes has a―let's say in the nicest way possible―a negative reaction. Something along the lines of, "Excuse me? What the fuck? I have to legally inform you that I am not a mental health professional, but seriously, Lil's, you need to get checked out for whatever is fucked in your mind."

It makes her even more ashamed of her feelings for you. She could never be good enough for you. This is just the nail in the coffin.

But she won't stop stalking you. (Is it really stalking if you work together and she's just looking out for you?) She'll just become more persistent in bettering herself so that she is worthy of you (and your love).

🅨🅐🅝. 🅟🅔🅐🅝🅤🅣

He's a little lost, but he's got the spirit. Every team member will know that Peanut has some sort of feelings for you. He doesn't exactly try to keep them a secret. He's constantly blabbering about how much he appreciates you, how warm and fluttery you make him feel, and the things he wants to do with you. He'll whine at any loss of contact with you.

If both of you are separated because of military duties, then he becomes quite frazzled and upset, only to be overly excited when he sees you once again, throwing his arms around you and bonking his helmet against yours.

He wants you to always be the one who watches over him at night. He'll beg you to come cuddle with him because he'll have nightmares if you don't. He's giggling the entire time, and his face is completely flushed.

He loves joking around with you to try to brighten your day. He tells you all his stories. He may or may not have a couple of secret ones that involve you and him. Listening to him drone on about conspiracy theories is a must.

You're Peanut's babysitter soon, lover, essentially. Duke may even try to change your codename to Babysitter because Peanut makes you look after him so much.

🅨🅐🅝. 🅟🅞🅟🅢

He's not one to resort to violence (or euthanization) unless met with an enemy where that is a necessity. So intimidation is his game as a yandere. He will abuse his power as the FIXER team's leader to isolate you and keep you as his. It's more of an instinctual need. At least, that's how he sees it.

He likes pulling you close to him. No one really bats an eye because he does it so often. He'll pull you into a hug or into his lap, then he whispers about how you'll be good and not report him to HR because you won't like the consequences (i.e., ruining your reputation). If you dislike it, he isn't going to force himself on you. He will never do that. However, he will desensitize you to it. His lingering touches will grow bolder until you'll want to freely cuddle with him at the end of long days.

Really, he just wants you happy, healthy, and safe. He's a yandere, like his namesake, after all. Even when he is a romantic yandere, he can't help but come off as paternal. He teaches you things, gives you honest praise, encourages you, and is right there to shut down any bullshit someone may try to give you. He likes placing his hand on your shoulder, patting you on the back, or maybe even on the head.

He even has this dirty little fantasy he often entertains about retiring with you. It's what he thinks about when things get too stressful. He feels too old to have kids; I mean, he already babysits a bunch of grown adults, most of whom can't take care of themselves. So just imagining him and you getting away, his hands free to explore your body, is enough to make him need to excuse himself. He needs to "adjust" his armor or go relieve himself of some bodily fluids.

You're the reminder that he needs to survive―that he still has a future to survive for.

🅨🅐🅝. 🅣🅐🅡🅖🅔🅣

Poor kid doesn't even know what hit him. He's grossly inept when it comes to understanding his infatuation with his darling. He's even worse at expressing it. He walks around in a state of constant confusion, trying to decipher the reason why he suddenly feels homicidal when one of his teammates gets too close to you.

He distances himself from Duke and Peanut for that reason. They are number one and two on the "people I would definitely kill if I had to" list. But even then—he'll probably accidentally confess his feelings about darling to one of his other teammates. There's a good chance it's either Crash or Izzy. And let's say Target should hope he's not stupid enough to tell Crash. Crash will try to shut that shit down and tell him how fucked up he is, while also maintaining an air of dismissiveness. He'll get offended by Crash's insinuation. Target is only looking out for your best interests. He's protecting you!

He also has an entire album of photos of you that you probably don't know about. No one cares about his cool bird pictures, so he doesn't really have to worry about anyone snooping through yours. He tries to capture your perfection in every photo, but only the real thing―you―can do it justice. You're so much better to photograph than any super cool bird anywhere in all the galaxies combined―plus some!

🅨🅐🅝. 🅦🅔🅢🅛🅔🅨

If you think Crash's tsundere attitude is bad, wait until you're introduced to Wes's loving bitchiness. You can't so much as sneeze without having the medic needing to check you out. He's snarky, but something about it is softer. He seems genuinely concerned, and if you are injured, then he'll use all the good supplies on you. He's used to venting to you about, well, everything. Maybe he seems rougher towards you because he's accepted that you're the one person he can let his guard down a little with.

He's freely possessive, even if part of him is ashamed for being so nerveless against his own desires. He's lived too long and seen too much shit not to claim you as his own. If someone doesn't like it, then they can fuck off, and the both of you can transfer out together.

Oh, yeah. Wes always has your transfer papers filled out for you along with his. They're married with one paperclip joining the two stacks of paper. It slightly irritates his need for complete organization, but there's something so subtle and intimate about it that he keeps it that way.

Lilly and he are a package, so more often than not she'll be his unofficial wingwoman. She may question his methods, but you actually make Wes happy. She doesn't think she's ever seen that. And if you can produce that kind of miracle, then perhaps Wes's red flag behavior is something she can turn a blind eye to. He's just not used to normal human relationships. He'll grow out of it.

[biribaa]

HII HIIDHDJJFG i’ve been a fan of ur writing for a while now but i recently started getting into Awful Hospital The Worst Ever and i could barely find any content for it and i realized u write for it so if it’s ok i’d like to request Yandere! Crash x reader hcs i love him so much 😭

Yandere!Crash x reader hcs

I love you anon HGDFHGFH keep coming with teh yandere crash requests PLEASE,,,,,,,,,,,,

TW/CW: Yandere behavior, spoilers to AH

Honestly I think Crash might be one of the worst AI around fiction to become a yandere, along with AM and Proteus. He's a big mess of emotional dependency, possession, obsession and sadism. You're not sure if you find it pitiful or scary with the fact he kinda have control over some good part of the hospital.

You're such a silly thing for him to awe at. You're small, you're flesh, you're warm, you're caring, and honest, he's not that, Crash is the entire opposite. Out of every fleshbag around the hospital, his digital eyes spotted you, and thats where he found a new plaything.

Wanted or not... Crash growed a attachment to you. The computer cant grasps the words... the feeling is almost similar to a Deja Vu.

Crash is possesive with even the smallest of details, he always confront you in one of the hospital's after any chat he holded a suspicion on, and the only thing you could do as some sort of "sorry" for the computer is for spend some layers by his room, right by his side. Otherwise, Crash will keep whining for it.

He may or may not wrap you in his wires and stop you from going out... But its not like you mind much, theres not much to explore around the hospital, why dont just stay with Crash?

While Crash have fun keeping you to himself, that does mean Jay get a break some time or other from the computer, which for him is more than great. If you ever stumble across Jay, he might even just point to Crash where you are just so he can leave him alone for more time.

I mean it when I say Crash pratically treats you like a toy for him to amaze with, he pushes you around in the computer room, rambling and giggling to the reactions of your body while most of your body remain wrapped around his wires. The computer continues to ask silly question to you, just to push a answer from you, all while his wires are entirely around your shape. Arent his human toy so adorable and obedient? He likes to think his ex is jealous of him at these moments.

[rainedravens]

"holy shit they finally confessed, what comes next--"

[stargirlrchive]

older bf or dbf!simon definitely grabs your face, like squishes your cheeks together, your pretty lips puffing out and parting from his grip, to get your attention when you’re distracted.

“you listenin’ to me, lovie?”

[daffsforstag]

The Disney prince to the father of my children pipeline needs to be studied.

[hungharrington]

happy birthday angel!! giving steve some road head on a scenic drive would be a total dream 😋😋😋😋 (list number 2)

ROAD HEAD!!!!!! it’s diabolical & absolutely some menace!reader shit, let’s get some dick sucking on in here <3 gn!reader, 1.5k, oral (m receiving), MDNI this entire blog is 18+

If Steve knew how meticulously planned it was, he might actually commend you.

Really, you’ve outdone yourself.

It’s the perfect stretch of road. He’s wearing those tiny red swim shorts that have the drawstring on the outside—at your recommendation, of course. No shirt because of the heat, though the thatch of hair on his chest is enough to have you sweating.

And you even had the forethought to do all the driving yesterday, so Steve would take up the mantle today automatically. No suspicion aroused whatsoever.

Yeah, you’ve planned this shit.

But if Steve knew enough to commend you, that meant your plan had failed. Besides, you’ll get your prizes elsewhere today anyways.

“Isn’t it nice?” You ask, reaching across to give Steve’s thigh an excitable squeeze. You leave your hand there.

“Yeah, baby,” Steve says warmly, taking his eyes off the road and scenery ahead to smile at you. It’s sweet as sugar, his fondness evident.

He reaches down and squeezes your hand on his thigh briefly.

“Thanks for choosing to do this, I don’t think would’ve thought to.”

He casts his eyes back out the coast that you’re meandering along, the road mostly straight, except for an occasional bend. You passed someone heading the other way fifteen minutes ago.

Otherwise, for as far as the eye can see, you might be the only car out on the road.

Plan unfolding perfectly, you shift your hand further up Steve’s thigh.

“Well, thank you for driving us,” You counter. You shift, twisting your body to face his more easily, and your fingers trail higher, tangling them with the drawstring of his shorts.

“Y’know that’s no issue for my- oh,” Steve’s tone twists as you tug at one the strings gently.

His gaze darts down at his lap, then follows your arm up to your face— and from the simpering smile on your face, he cottons on quickly.

“You—” He starts, his hands not moving from the wheel, but his eyes narrowed.

“Uh huh.”

You tug the string again, the bow of his shorts coming undone.

“So this—?”

He still hasn’t moved his hands, but when you glance up he’s got his tongue pressed into his cheek, as if he can’t believe your nerve. Or his luck.

“Uh huh.” Dipping your fingers into the waistband, you pull it out to loosen it.

“You are a—”

The end of his sentence is swallowed in a cough as you curl your fingers around his cock easily. It’s warm, still soft but you can feel it beginning to stiffen in your grip.

“I’m a what?” You goad with a grin, your grip beginning to skim up and down slowly.

Steve grows rigid in the drivers seat, his thighs tenser than before, shoulders suddenly pressed firmly against the seat. He exhales heavily out his nose and the car accelerates with a loud rev, just a moment, before Steve realises the extra pressure he’s applying to the pedal.

He eases off the gas and you strike. In your hand, you draw up to the tip, pressing your thumb into the head and he jolts with a grunt. In your hand, his length thickens more rapidly.

“—menace.” He finishes, breath heavier now than it was a minute ago. “You’re a fuckin’ menace.”

Even so, he remains in place, tensed up, as you shift the fabric of his shorts down and free his cock. It bobs lowly and you take the moment to draw your fingers along his happy trail—the maddening path that leads down, down, down.

Saliva pools on your tongue. Something warm flares up between your thighs.

You’re more than hungry for a taste.

Your touch ghosts along his cock, more teasing than really touching, and you eye the road ahead quickly.

A glance at Steve’s face reveals his focus is split, gaze darting between the road and your hand in his lap. But it’s enough for you to duck beneath the seatbelt strapped across your chest and lean in closer.

“Don’t crash,” You say, half serious and half playful. It’s a straight road mostly from here on out, but even so Steve’s head thumps back against the headrest.

“You—” He begins, tone accusing, but cuts himself off with a sharp inhale as you tilt his cock up, slotting the head of between your lips. “Oh, Jesus Christ,” He gasps, his last sentence forgotten.

The taste of his skin, the salt of today’s swim and the musk of himself, inspires a flush of lust down your spine. You let drool slip out, making it messy, as you begin to take more in your mouth.

“Honey,” Steve groans breathily.

You’re can’t tell if it’s a plea for mercy or a want for more — only sinking down further to let him fill your mouth. You can feel the rumble of the engine beneath you, but your ears are more tuned to laboured breathing above.

Something twinges in your stomach when you hear the adorable little hitch in Steve’s throat as you begin to move up and down. Lazied. Relaxed.

He groans again, softer this time, and gently, you feel a hand rest atop your head.

“Fuck,” Steve mutters, his fingers threading into your hair. He doesn’t push, just rests it there. You hear his head thump back against the headrest again. “Fuck, baby.”

You hum around his cock, pleased, and it inspires another motion from him—his hips jutting up into your mouth, forcing his cock in another inch.

The engine revs as Steve accidentally accelerates again. You cough at the unexpected change, not pulling off, but Steve’s already spilling over with apologies.

“Fuck, shit, sorry—” The hand in your hair strokes over your head tenderly, apologetic. The engine drones as it slows. “I’m sorry, that— you just—”

His sentence is swallowed by his own moan, languid and breathy. You’ve moved up, lips circling the head of his cock, your tongue moving deftly to lap up the leaking pre-cum. It’s where Steve’s most sensitive.

“I take it back,” Steve says, sounding out of breath.

The fingers in your hair curl, tightening but still not gripping tight. You can’t imagine the steering wheel is getting the same nice treatment. “I’m not— uh- fuckin’ sorry, you - you wanted this.”

The heat between your thighs flushes warmly and for the first time, you regret choosing this time and place — if only because Steve has an edge in his voice and you’d love nothing more for him to take it out on you. Well, your throat more specifically.

Instead, you only hum in agreement, as if saying yes I did and Steve groans loudly.

His thighs grow tenser and you can see the muscles in his tummy rippling as he restrains himself.

The grip in your hair twists a little tighter and Steve’s moans begin to bleed into each other, getting shorter, building and building. His hips shift a bit with each noise.

“Okay,” He says. “I’m-” His breaths stutter, noises still pitching up with every punched out moan. “Sweetheart, I’m— fuck, wait, I’m— I’m—”

Warmth floods your mouth, right as the car swerves suddenly to the left an inch or two, hastily corrected in the next moment. You let the ropes of cum coat the back of your throat as Steve keens pitifully, his hand only now pressing you further down, fingers curled tightly in your hair.

It’s a long moment, soft whines and curses pulled from Steve’s throat as he works through the high — now focused on making sure he’s still driving straight.

“You— fuck,” He gasps, hips still rolling and rutting. “You’re—gonna—kill me,” There’s little gaspy breaths between each word and a pleased bliss settles in the bottom of your stomach, friction stirring.

You pull up, lazy and languid, almost not wanting to part. You could just stay here, right? Warming his cock with your mouth, seeing how long it takes for his length to thicken up again.

The ache between your thighs begs you to.

The shiver in Steve’s thighs, the threadiness in his voice, tells you no.

Swallowing what’s in your mouth with an exaggerated sound of pleasure, you release his cock with a soft suckle and sit back. It’s worth it, getting to see the twitch in Steve’s spent cock at your soft moan—still interested, always interested when it comes to you.

You sit up properly and then slip beneath your seatbelt, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Steve’s knuckles are white with how hard they clutch the steering wheel, both hands now, and his chest still heaves as he tries to get his breath.

“You—” He starts again, words stuttering as you politely lean over and tuck him back into his pants. A shiver runs through him. You even do a bow as you retie his shorts for him.

“Thanks for driving us again, baby,” You say dotingly, reaching up to cup Steve’s cheek.

His hazel eyes meet yours, narrowed as if you’ve just set a challenge. He picks a hand off the wheel, capturing your outstretched one and holding it as he turns to press a kiss to your palm.

“No problem, sweetheart,” He says, still breathing heavy, his eyes a little darker now. “You know I love to return a favour.”

[yungistiny]

WRECKED

[ J. Yunho + S. Mingi ]

╚═════════

summary: in which your boyfriend wants you to ruin his best friend but ends up getting much more than he asked for

warning: switch yunho, switch mingi, switch reader, pegging, anal (m/m), oral (f/m, m/m) unprotected sex, overstimulation, rough sex, degradation, masturbation, threesome

genre: smut

pairing: yungi x afab reader

word count: 4k

masterlist

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

You blinked, unsure if you’d heard him right.

“Wait… you want me to what?”

Yunho didn’t flinch. Leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, that cocky smirk slowly giving way to something darker. “I want to watch you fuck Mingi.”

You opened your mouth, but no words came out. Yunho pushed off the wall, stepping into the room with slow, deliberate confidence.

“I mean really fuck him, baby,” he added, voice low and teasing. “I want to watch you ruin him with that strap you bought for me.”

That strap, bought during a drunken night filled with jokes and kink quizzes. You’d never used it, not once. It had been a fantasy, half joke, half dare from Wooyoung. But Yunho wasn’t joking now.

You swallowed hard, pulse picking up. “Yunho… are you sure?”

He nodded once. “I want it. I want to see him under you. Want to hear him beg. Want to see your fingers in his mouth while he takes it.” He paused. “He’ll let you. He wants it, too.”

As if summoned, Mingi stepped into the doorway like he’d been waiting outside. His eyes met yours, nervous, but not unsure. His tongue darted across his lips, and god, he looked so pretty when he was nervous.

“So,” Yunho murmured, turning to sit on the edge of the bed, his knees spread wide, “which one of you is gonna undress first?”

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

Mingi was already flushed before you even touched him.

Stripped down to just his boxers, his broad chest rising and falling with every breath, pupils dilated. You stood in front of him, running your fingers through his hair before gripping it tight, forcing his head back just enough to see Yunho watching from the bed.

“On your knees.”

He dropped instantly. Eager. Beautiful. Filthy.

Yunho groaned quietly behind you, palming himself through his sweats. You could feel his gaze on you like a second touch, watching as you spread Mingi open with lube slicked fingers, coaxing soft moans from him.

“He’s already so fucking needy,” you whispered, tilting your head back enough for Yunho to hear. “He’s been waiting for this, hasn’t he?”

Mingi let out a breathy “yes,” his voice shaking. “Please… I can take it.”

“You better,” you purred. “Because I’m not stopping until Yunho tells me to.”

When you pushed inside, Mingi choked on a moan, half pain, half pleasure, his fingers clawing into the sheets as you filled him, slow and steady.

“Fuck…. oh my god”

Yunho stood now, circling the bed like a predator, dragging two fingers across Mingi’s jaw, then gripping it tight.

“Look at you,” he murmured, watching Mingi’s eyes flutter. “You’re taking her so well. You like having your ass used, huh?”

Mingi nodded weakly, breath stuttering as you pulled back and slammed forward again, harder this time. “I love it…. fuck…. I love it.”

Yunho’s gaze snapped to you, pure hunger. “Go harder.”

And you did.

You fucked Mingi like you owned him, like he was yours to break apart. Every slap of skin echoed through the room, Mingi’s moans climbing higher, filth spilling from your mouth as you leaned forward to bite down on his shoulder, fingers curling around his throat just tight enough to make him whine.

Yunho stood at the edge of the bed, hand wrapped around his dick now, slow strokes timed to your thrusts.

“She’s gonna make you come like this,” he said roughly to Mingi. “Stuffed full and dripping. What would people think if they saw you like this?”

“I don’t care,” Mingi gasped. “I just want her… please… harder…. don’t stop”

You didn’t.

He came with a strangled cry, untouched, as you rutted into him like you were never going to stop. He was shaking, begging, gasping against the sheets, but you weren’t done.

Mingi’s body was twitching beneath you, already wrecked from the first orgasm you’d dragged out of him, but you weren’t finished. You were still grinding deep, still thrusting slow and hard, relishing the way his thighs trembled, the way he whined your name like a prayer and a curse all in one.

You barely noticed Yunho strip.

But the second you felt his chest press to your back and his hand snake between your legs, you sucked in a sharp breath.

“Didn’t say I was just gonna watch, did I?” Yunho rasped into your ear, his dick already sliding through your wetness. “She’s not done with you, Mingi. Not even close.”

Mingi moaned beneath you, his voice all fucked out and slurred. “I can take it. I’ll take anything she gives me.”

“You better,” Yunho said darkly, lining himself up behind you. “Because now I’m gonna take her.”

You were already dripping, already clenching when he pushed into you with one brutal, perfect thrust. You cried out, your body arching forward from the force of it, making the strap drive even deeper into Mingi.

Mingi screamed. You gasped. Yunho groaned.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, trying to keep your rhythm, but Yunho wasn’t letting you have control anymore. His hands gripped your hips, fingers digging deep, and he pounded into you with a pace that stole your balance. Each thrust shoved you forward into Mingi, harder than before, the strap plunging into him with every motion you couldn’t stop.

“F… fuck…. oh god” Mingi’s voice broke, mouth open, body shaking. “You’re… both… oh fuck… please!”

You were barely hanging on. Yunho was a machine behind you, relentless, breath hot on your neck, the slap of his hips echoing off the walls. His grip never loosened. He used your body like you were his to fuck, and you were, and the fact that you were still buried inside his best friend only made it more obscene.

“She’s fucking you,” Yunho growled to Mingi. “But I’m fucking her. You feel how deep she is right now? That’s me putting her there.”

Mingi’s legs kicked, helpless.

“Can’t move,” he sobbed. “She’s… fuck…. too deep”

“You’re gonna take it,” Yunho snapped. “You’re gonna take everything she gives you while I fuck it into her.”

Your legs were shaking, arms barely holding you up. Yunho shifted, angling himself deeper, hitting your g spot with every snap of his hips. The pleasure was dizzying, your mouth falling open.

“You’re so full, baby,” he groaned, one hand wrapping around your throat. “Strap in him, dick in you, look at you, fucking made for us.”

You couldn’t even speak. Mingi was babbling into the sheets, you were moaning, crying out with every thrust, and Yunho was rutting into you like he was punishing you for making him wait.

“You close?” he growled.

You nodded frantically, body pulsing around him.

“Then come. Come with me buried in this pussy and him stuffed full of your strap. Come, baby, now.”

And you did.

It tore through you like lightning, and your scream echoed through the room as you collapsed forward, body spasming. Mingi came again underneath you with a broken moan, and Yunho didn’t stop, he fucked you through it, through the shaking, the overstimulation, his own orgasm crashing into you seconds later as he buried himself deep and came with a growl in your ear.

All three of you were trembling by the time it ended. A sticky, panting mess of limbs and sweat and afterglow.

You stayed lying on top of Mingi, both of you whimpering as Yunho slowly pulled out, chuckling breathlessly.

“Well,” he said, wiping sweat from his brow. “That was better than I imagined.”

Mingi wheezed. “I think I saw god.” He was still breathless, collapsed on the bed beneath you, face flushed and twitching with aftershocks. His lips were parted like he wanted to speak, but no words came.

You were barely upright, your body covered in sweat, trembling from release, but Yunho’s hands on your hips held you steady. His chest pressed to your back. His voice a low growl at your ear.

“Now me,” he said.

You blinked. Turned your head slightly, lips brushing his cheek.

“You sure?”

He exhaled, jaw tight. “I want to feel it too. I want to know what he just felt. I want you inside me.”

That alone almost made you almost come again.

Yunho had never given over control. He never bottomed. Not for you. Not for anyone. He loved control. Loved watching you fall apart. But now, his voice was shaking and low and his body practically buzzed with need.

You pulled out of Mingi gently, both of you gasping. Mingi rolled to the side, eyes barely open but watching, dazed and fascinated. Watching Yunho.

“Come on, then,” you murmured, voice darker now. “On your knees.”

Yunho obeyed.

His muscles rippled as he shifted into position, arms bracing him on the bed, legs parted, ass bare and perfect. He didn’t look back at you, but his breathing was already shallow. Waiting.

You slicked your fingers again, sliding them down the curve of his ass, watching him twitch when you brushed his hole.

“Good boy,” you whispered, and he shuddered.

Mingi let out a shaky breath behind you, still watching everything. “Holy shit…”

You stretched him slow, careful, but firm. You wanted this to be intense. You wanted him to feel what it meant to give himself over to you. Every time your finger slid deeper, Yunho groaned, low, guttural, his thighs tensing.

“You can take more,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to his spine.

“Yeah,” he rasped. “Give it to me.”

So you did.

The strap slid in with a slick, slow push, and Yunho grunted, fists tightening in the sheets, hips rocking back to meet you like he needed to be filled to breathe.

“Fuuuck…. baby….”

“That’s it,” you whispered, nails digging into his hips. “You look so fucking hot like this. All mine now, huh?”

“All yours,” he growled, forehead pressed to the bed. “Fuck me. Hard. Don’t hold back.”

You didn’t.

You started slow, dragging the strap out and slamming it back in, each thrust harder than the last until Yunho was gasping, panting, moaning. Mingi had propped himself up against the headboard, still wrecked but wide eyed, stroking himself slowly as he watched you fuck his best friend into submission.

“Look at you,” you snarled, slamming in again. “Fucking whimpering for me. You like this, Yunho? Like me using you?”

“Yes,” he cried out, back arching. “More… harder… don’t stop”

You leaned forward, pressing your chest to his back, your mouth to his ear.

“You’re taking me so well. Being so good for me. Look at Mingi. He’s watching you fall apart. You feel powerless, don’t you?”

Yunho let out a strangled moan, trembling.

You reached down, stroking his dick in time with your thrusts, and it was all over from there.

He came with a growl, loud and raw, hips jerking wildly as he collapsed forward, body wracked with aftershocks. You kept moving through it, dragging every last sound from him until he was shaking, begging, cursing into the mattress.

When you finally pulled out, he rolled onto his back, chest heaving, face flushed and damp with sweat.

You hovered over him, legs shaking, but your eyes burned into his.

Yunho lay flat on his back beside you, his chest still heaving, eyes glazed and lips parted. Mingi had propped himself back on his elbows at the edge of the bed, gaze locked on the slick curve of the strap, your thighs, your breathless smirk.

They were fucked out. Drenched in sweat. But their eyes still followed you like you were the sun itself.

You licked your lips, stretched lazily, and let your fingers trail down your own stomach. Then you smirked.

“My turn,” you said.

Two words. That’s all it took.

Yunho blinked, slowly sitting up with a dazed grin, still flushed and unsteady on his knees. Mingi was already crawling toward you like the obedient, aching mess he was, pupils blown wide.

You sat back on the pillows, legs spread slightly, the harness still in place, glistening. You didn’t move. Didn’t have to.

“What do you want, baby?” Yunho asked, voice hoarse, eager.

“I want to watch you,” you replied. “Both of you. Right here. Right now. Show me how good you can be, for me.”

Their eyes darkened at the same time.

Mingi moved first, of course he did, leaning over to kiss your thigh, then trailing kisses up to your navel, his hands spreading your legs wider. Yunho knelt between your thighs too, eyes never leaving your face as his lips followed the other side, hot breath teasing your skin.

You let your head fall back, watching them both through hooded eyes as they worshipped you together.

Kisses. Tongues. Fingers tracing patterns over your skin.

“God, you’re perfect,” Mingi whispered, nuzzling into your hip.

“She deserves everything,” Yunho added, kissing your inner thigh.

They didn’t rush.

Mingi’s tongue dipped lower, Yunho followed his lead, and then it was both of them—sharing, switching, tasting, teasing, moaning between your legs like they were getting off just from the taste of you. Mingi’s fingers digging into your thighs while Yunho pressed kisses to your clit after they removed the strap, murmuring your name like a mantra.

You tangled your fingers in their hair, tugging tight when it got too good, when the pressure hit just right.

Mingi’s tongue was buried deep inside you now, Yunho’s lips sealed around your clit, and you were right on the edge, ready to fall apart all over their pretty faces. Until you grabbed a fistful of each man’s hair and pulled.

“Stop.”

They both froze.

Yunho looked up at you, breathless and confused, lips glossy. “Did we… did we do something wrong?”

Mingi blinked, still hovering between your thighs. “Do you not want…”

You gave them both a crooked smile, licking your lips, voice like honey and sin.

“That’s not what I meant when I said it was my turn.”

Mingi sat back slowly. “Then… what did you mean?”

You stood, body still flushed and glowing with sweat and circled them like a wolf stalking prey. You leaned in close behind Yunho, whispering low against his neck.

“I want to watch you…” Then your eyes flicked to Mingi, and your voice turned to a purr. “Both of you. Together.”

Silence.

Yunho turned his head, just slightly. “You mean…”

Mingi’s breath caught. “You want me to fuck him?”

You gave a single nod, slow and deliberate. “Or him to fuck you. I don’t care who’s on top. I just want to watch both of you fall apart in front of me.”

The air shifted.

Yunho’s gaze dropped to Mingi, something unspoken passing between them, surprise, hesitation, maybe even curiosity… but not denial.

“You’ve thought about it,” you said quietly, getting back on the bed, backing toward the headboard, reclining like a queen before her performance. “Don’t lie to me. You’ve both thought about it.”

Yunho swallowed. Mingi’s lips parted.

And then Yunho gave a breathless laugh, soft, disbelieving, and turned to Mingi. “She’s right.”

Mingi blinked. “She usually is.”

You smirked. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

Yunho kissed Mingi first. Hesitant at first, almost shy, but it didn’t stay that way. Mingi grabbed Yunho by the neck and pulled him closer, mouths crashing together in a mess of teeth and tongue and groaning breath.

They forgot you were even there for a second, and that was exactly what you wanted.

You moved your hand down, slowly circling your clit as they kissed harder, deeper, bodies sliding together.

“Get on your back,” Yunho finally growled to Mingi.

Mingi obeyed without a word, dick already hard and leaking, lips swollen from kissing. Yunho crawled between his legs, pausing to look back at you, his eyes darker than you’d ever seen.

“You still watching?”

You smiled like the wicked little demon you were. “Every second.”

Yunho leaned down, licking a long stripe up Mingi’s dick before taking it in his mouth.

Mingi shouted, loud and raw and broken.

“Fuck, Yunho… what the fuck”

Yunho sucked him deep, hands pressing into Mingi’s thighs to keep him still, humming low in his throat while Mingi writhed beneath him. Your fingers were rubbing at your clit faster, your free hand gripping the sheets, breath catching with every obscene, wet sound that filled the room.

You watched Yunho devour his best friend, watched Mingi fall apart in real time, grabbing Yunho’s hair, hips twitching.

“Switch,” you commanded suddenly, breathless. “I want Mingi on top. I want him to fuck you.”

They froze.

Yunho lifted his head, lips still glossy. “You serious?”

You raised a brow. “I’ve never been more serious.”

Yunho turned to Mingi, exhaling hard. “You okay with that?”

Mingi nodded, something electric in his eyes. “Only if she keeps watching.”

You leaned back with a grin. “I’ll do more than that. I’ll tell you what to do next.”

Yunho’s lips were still slick from sucking Mingi’s dick, his jaw tight with anticipation as you leaned back, breathless and glowing from everything you’d just done to them both.

Mingi’s eyes snapped to the movement of your fingers rubbing at your clit. “You’re not joining?”

You smirked. “I am. Just… like this.”

Your fingers slid through your folds, slow and teasing, circling your clit as you sank back against the headboard, watching them like a goddamn goddess in the clouds. “I want to watch you fuck each other. I want to see what I do to you both.”

Yunho let out a breath that was more of a groan. Mingi glanced down at him, then back to you, something in his chest rising like he was ready to worship you through Yunho’s body.

And he was.

“On your back,” Mingi said, voice lower now, more commanding. “You heard her.”

Yunho’s eyes flicked to yours, wide and blown. “You sure?”

You gave a soft, dangerous smile as your fingers moved faster over your clit. “Be a good boy, Yunho. Let him make you feel as good as you made me.”

Yunho nodded once. Then slowly laid back, chest rising with each shaky breath, arms spread slightly above his head like he was giving himself up.

Mingi crawled over him, leaning down to kiss him again, deeper this time. There was no hesitation now. Just hunger.

You bit your lip, watching them devour each other’s mouths as your fingers dipped lower, teasing your entrance. You were soaked, aching, and every sound, every groan and gasp from their lips made you wetter.

“Use him, Mingi,” you whispered through a moan. “Fuck him like you mean it.”

Mingi reached over for the lube, his hands shaking just slightly as he prepped Yunho, slow fingers, soft kisses, muttered praises you barely heard over the pounding in your ears.

Then he was lined up. Holding Yunho’s legs open. Looking over at you.

“Keep touching yourself,” Mingi said, his voice thick with desire. “Don’t stop.”

You moaned as he pushed in slow, careful, watching Yunho’s eyes roll back and his jaw drop open in a silent cry.

“Fuck… he’s so tight”

Yunho’s back arched. “Holy shit don’t stop… don’t fucking stop”

You were a mess already, fingers stroking furiously as you watched Mingi thrust into him, each snap of his hips rougher, deeper. Yunho took it, moaning loudly, nails dragging down Mingi’s back, head thrown back on the pillows.

They were all sound and sweat and raw movement, your boys, your masterpiece, and you were falling apart to the symphony of their moans.

“Look at her,” Yunho gasped, barely able to get the words out. “She’s fucking herself to this… fuck, I’m gonna come”

“Don’t,” Mingi growled, teeth against Yunho’s throat. “Not yet.”

You were breathless. Wrecked. “Come for me. Both of you. At the same time. I want to see it.”

Mingi’s hand reached down to stroke Yunho’s dick in time with his thrusts, and the moment you said the words, your voice trembling through your orgasm, they both broke.

Yunho came with a shout, body convulsing, and Mingi followed with a grunt, hips jerking deep, burying himself to the hilt as he collapsed onto Yunho’s chest.

You lay there panting, your hand still twitching between your thighs, your thighs soaked, lips parted in awe as they lay tangled together in the aftermath.

Then Mingi looked up at you.

“So,” he breathed, voice rough, “do we get a scorecard?”

Yunho chuckled, barely coherent. “I think we just passed with honors.”

You grinned lazily. “Don’t get cocky. There’s always extra credit.”

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

Yunho walked into the practice room first.

He looked… fine. Too fine. Like a man trying very hard not to limp, not to wince, not to glow. His sweats were low on his hips, hoodie sleeves shoved up to his elbows, and his hair was still damp from his morning shower.

Mingi followed two minutes later.

He looked…..

Let’s just say walking wasn’t his strong suit this morning. He wore a hoodie, but it was zipped halfway down, like he’d overheated just from making it to the elevator. There were faint bruises on his collarbone that weren’t there yesterday. And he hadn’t stopped smiling.

San spotted it first.

He was mid stretch, arms overhead, when he glanced between the two of them. His arms slowly dropped.

“Huh…”

Wooyoung followed his gaze. Then narrowed his eyes. “Nah. No way. They didn’t.”

Seonghwa, tying his shoelaces, didn’t even look up. “Oh, they absolutely did.”

Hongjoong raised an eyebrow. “Did what?”

Jongho, ever the innocent, blinked. “What are you guys talking about?”

“They fucked,” Seonghwa said, cheerfully, standing upright. “Or, more likely, got fucked. Both of them.” He didn’t really need to specify who they got fucked by.

Yunho coughed.

Mingi turned red. “What the hell, Seonghwa?!”

Yunho looked like he wanted to melt through the floor. “It’s not… I mean….”

“Don’t even try,” Wooyoung cut in, stepping closer. “Y’all are literally vibrating. You think we don’t notice the eye contact? The weird spacing? The accidental brush of shoulders every five seconds?”

Mingi groaned, dragging a hand over his face. “Can we not do this at dance practice?”

“Oh we’re definitely doing this at dance practice,” San said, grinning like a shark. “Because now I’m wondering, did you just hook up? Or was it a whole…thing?”

Yeosang, who hadn’t said a word until now, finally piped up with surgical precision. “She was there, wasn’t she.”

Silence.

Yunho looked away. Mingi bit his lip.

San’s jaw dropped. Wooyoung howled.

“Oh my GOD, it was a threesome! You guys had a threesome with Y/N?!”

Yunho groaned. Mingi muttered, “I’m never gonna hear the end of this, am I.”

“No,” Seonghwa said immediately. “Absolutely not. I demand full details over dinner.”

Hongjoong pinched the bridge of his nose. “Can we please stretch first before we emotionally interrogate the group sex energy in the room?”

“Oh don’t act like you’re above it,” Wooyoung teased. “You’re literally smirking.”

“I’m always smirking.”

Jongho just looked around, wide eyed. “Wait. Wait. They both slept with her? Together? That’s a thing now?!”

Yunho finally stood up straight and rubbed the back of his neck. “Look… it wasn’t planned.”

Mingi snorted. “Yeah, says the one who told her to fuck me.”

Now the room exploded.

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

permanent tag list: @straycat420 @autieofthevalley @dejatiny @hannahlilibet411 @xh01bri @jintastic-yuyu @maddycline @ultrapinkvoidbouquet @wooyoungsbrat @lucid-galaxys-world @ecriggs1990 @straytiny127 @sannies-tiddies @hannahstacos @jiminthestreets-bonesinthesheets

[that-one-malereader-enthusiast]

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞

╰┈➤ 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐎𝐟𝐟 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐁𝐮𝐧��𝐲

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

𝐋𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭 𝐱 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 || 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐨 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐉𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚 𝐑𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

⟩ Part One | » Part Two « ⟨

cw : MDNI - s1 Lestat, top male reader, sub Lestat, jealous Lestat, i bagged a baddie by being autistic aesthetic, nsfw, mentions of alcohol, mentions of blood and gore, mentions of death, mentions of homophobia, inappropriate use of lipstick, lestat crashes out bad, y'all are on your own with the french translations, goodluck, anon request. wc : 12.8k

Lestat adored you as much as you worshiped him on bended knee. In your mind, you knew you threaded a line that could lead to a prosperous life, or one that would end in an instance. You were more than knowledge about the mans’ power and true nature, but your heart—your heart was his completely.

The vampire was more than familiar with those who'd been enthralled with him. Wanting to occupy his space, his life, his bed, his lips even, but you? He had such a sick fascination to keep you around and in his current immortal life, and then some. He did not proclaim love, even though it was obvious with the affection he smothered you in and vice versa.

What he couldn't stand, was the eyes of others roaming your body, thoughts wild and with hunger for you. Strangers ready to take you away from him, to indulge in sweet whispers and rough touches throughout the night. No one deserved your praise, your love, your adoration. To take his sun away, the shining star in his seemingly everlasting life?

Any man or woman who so much as gazed upon your divine form would meet with the cold hands of death much sooner than fate designed.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“Ma bien-aimée, could you carry me to my coffin?”

You could barely register the words Lestat spoke as his lips pressed against the top of your head. Sitting up from your current position, you tilted your head up to meet the others' gaze. His eyes seduced you entirely without even trying, your half lidded eyes holding nothing but love and adoration for the man below you. “Ain't ya’ got legs? I've been much rougher than this before Les.” Your voice rumbled in a slightly deeper pitch seeing as you'd just woken up.

Your nude bodies seemed to shift and brush over each other as you moved. The couches weren't the best places to have such intimate moments, but you knew Lestat didn't have a bed, even for show. You knew of a guest room not too far off from his own, and that maybe he could have one there, but you never got the chance to mention it to him.

Lestat made a choked sound as you pulled away from his body, a ripple of warmth shooting up his spine. You'd gently chewed against your bottom lip as you pulled out and away from Lestat, feeling him cling onto what he could before the connection was broken. “Bien-aimé, tu es grand même quand tu dors,” he muttered to himself.

“Want me to run ya’ a bath Les?”

“It is too close to sunrise, I will take one later.”

“You sure? Wouldn't want to get your coffin all dirty.” You managed to find undergarments which had nearly been ripped to shreds with how eager Lestat had been. He'd vented out his frustrations, how Louis seemed to be avoiding him for some time now after — what he described as — having a blissful night of exotic wonders in each other's embrace. Not that you minded Lestat laying with others, just as he didn't judge you for being as queer as you were.

Ever since Lestat pulled you in, Louis had grown uneasy around you, almost as if he disliked you. You'd spoken to him before, but he dismissed you or ignored you most times — caring not for how you looked, how you acted, nor where you were from. It was truly as if he didn't want anything to do with you.

“I can always buy a new one, but if it is your mess, I don't mind it reeking of you for a while.”

You couldn't tell if that was an insult or a compliment, but you didn't take it to heart. “Well Les, was wonder’n if you wanted to see a show tomorrow, or maybe perform tonight. Haven't heard you play on stage in a while now!” Your arms maneuvered themselves under Lestats' legs and back before he proceeded to hook his arms around your neck.

“I would love to, really, but I have pressing matters to get to tomorrow.”

“Oh.” You almost seemed sad at that moment as you carried Lestat up the stairs, and apparently it was shown on your face as well.

“Stop that, you look like a kicked puppy when you do that.”

“Do what?”

“That…that face. You pout, you give me those eyes, almost begging for something. I will spare time to perform, I promise, but...I have plans at the moment.”

That was the last conversation you could remember having with the vampire before he seemed to disappear like smoke. He stopped visiting, stopped showing around, and suddenly you were alone. It almost seemed wrong, to go out into town by yourself, running your business without seeing him flaunt around you or sit on his lap. It was odd. But you knew what he was, what he truly was. A creature of the night. A God compared to the mortal you were.

And all you could do is wish longingly for his return.

For his touch.

For his voice.

For his love.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

You looked down at yourself, feeling a little overdressed for the occasion – even though it was a wedding – suits and ties never truly felt like you. Lestat was the fashionista, so to speak. One who loved to dress you up like a doll, having dragged you from tailor to tailor after one glance at your wardrobe. Though he never really complained with the way your suspenders seemed to shape your ass perfectly – perfectly enough that he felt the need to cop a feel whenever you dawned them.

In your hand you fiddled the RSVP that had been recently slipped through your mailslot, thumb running over the engraving on the card and your heart throbbing within your ears. Yes, Louis had a very caring sister that adored you, but you felt odd appearing at the wedding after Louis made every attempt to cut you out of his life. “Grace invited you,” you muttered to yourself, hearing the yard flood with noise, now realizing just how many people occupied said space. “If they didn’t want you here, they wouldn't have invited you…” You tried to coach yourself as nervousness wracked the entirety of your body, but it only seemed to worsen with every passing minute.

Your normal social butterfly self seemed to turn into more of a wallflower. Most of the people there knew the family and the couple – whether they be relatives or childhood friends – but you felt like a stranger within it all. Just the oddball bumpkin who’d started running the club down the lane. Nothing special. The sun was still out, and at that moment you had doubts that Lestat would be around. It almost felt like you needed him to hold your hand, at least to settle your buzzing nerves. Unfortunately, last you heard was that Lestat left a rather unsavory impression on the family, or so they say.

Sitting in the farthest seat you could, you sat and waited, watching the couple say their vows and declare their love for eachother. You could almost hear the nagging of your Ma and Memaw now, asking when you were going to bring some pretty girl around one day rather than a sack of potatoes over your shoulder. Wondering when they’ll get grandchildren from you. Your eyes left the couple as they jumped the broom, clapping your hands in a celebratory fashion with a sad smile appearing on your lips. Would marriage even be a chance in your future? Children even?

As you reminisced on your somber past, the evening seemed to turn into night and with the night came blaring music, laughter, and talk. Everyone seemed so happy, yet you'd kept your eye out for the blonde man who'd yet to crash said wedding. You could only assume that the two men didn’t end up on a good note, at least on Louis' side, seeing as Lestat spoke of him often to you. He always spoke of what was troubling him, his woes and worries as you two would share the couch and sometimes even your own bed.

“There you are! Been lookin’ all over for you!” Your shoulders jumped in surprise, the wine you were sipping on hitting the back of your throat as you tried your best to clear it. Grace made her way over with her now newly wedded husband in tow, holding the hem of her dress so as to not drag it on the ground. “Oh don’t try to hide yourself now country boy, where have you been?” She gave a playful pinch against your arm, none too painful, but she seemed much stronger than she looked.

Rubbing against the area on you arm after placing down the glass, you offered a shy smile in return. “Well, I assumed I wasn’t…welcome here. Family is a joy to be around, but I wasn’t sure all of you enjoyed being around me, is all.” You made a small pained noise as the smaller woman called you out by your name and you were pinched once again – in the same spot no less. You glanced down and then to the female, head tilted to the side in a questionable fashion, as if wondering why she was beating you up so badly.

“Boy, don’t let Mamaw hear that! She loved having your company, much better than that French White Louis is doin…business with, something about him just don’t sit right with me. But you? You’re sweeter than a pot of honey, and Paul seems to have taken a liking to you!”

“More than what most could say.” Levi gestured to himself, knowing that Paul cared not for him or the fact that Levi seemed to have married with his sister.

“Paul’ll warm up…one day, though I think he is just be’n protective is all. His darling sister being carried away with someone he barely knows, I could understand his worries,” you chided. You knew all too well how that felt, the protectiveness and all. A fleeting memory if anything. “Not to mention he certainly doesn’t like the fact that you are not wholly faithful to the name of the Lord and Christ. You know how he is Levi, just be happy he didn’t do anything rash during the vows…” As you spoke to the married couple you could feel eyes practically piercing through the side of your head. Your gaze slowly drifted, flickering past guests and family friends that seemed to mingle between each other.

You blinked almost feverishly as you came to see Louis staring directly at you, bewildered and almost unsure if you were really there. He didn’t come to confront you – no – but instead saw your gaze match his before going back to the slice of cake he was indulging himself in while with his brother. Though that didn’t stop him from glancing over every now and then. “And please, Ma du lac doesn’t need to know what I thought. I was just worried is all. Louis doesn’t seem to like me all too much at the moment. I can’t find what needle got stuck in his ass, but the moment I do, I’ll yank that grumpy mug completely. That way he won’t be runnin around frown’n all the damn time.”

Grace practically cackled as such a thought, wiping away a stray tear before gently touching against the spot she pinched, though now you were on high alert in case she decided to bruise you anymore than she’s already done. “Well, know that you’re welcome here and that I’m very happy you came. Enjoy yourself country boy. Looks like you may have needed a day out anyways. You look like a lost puppy over here at the table! For someone who runs a club, I didn’t take you as the shy type of man. I can introduce you to some people if you’d like.”

“No need!” You quickly held your hands up and laughed it off. “I’m just not used to gatherings like this I guess. I’ve only been here for a few months, so being invited to your wedding – it wasn’t what I was expect’n. Anyhow, I can mingle by myself, I assure you. You two enjoy your night, Grace,” giving a short nod as a farewell to the female, you did the same to her partner. “– Levi.”

It wasn’t long before you found yourself far from most of the commotion, picking at the plate of chocolate cake that you happened to pick up.

“Didn’t expect you to be here…”

What was it with the Du lacs’ and their ability to scare you, while compromised with food or a drink no less? You cleared your throat before turning to Louis who didn’t look none too pleased to see your face. “Well, I said this before, I’ll say it again. I didn’t expect to be here neither. Your…Your sister invited me last minute. I was hesitant to even come, I didn’t want to…upset you more than I already have bein’ around here and all.”

Louis had always been a wildcard to you. He was a smart man, you knew that, but he was always shot down and put under the boot of the white man because of the color of his skin. You found it insulting that the world today would treat those with different colors and tints to their skin like stray dogs – tossing them scraps when they feel sorry, a sliver of a bone when they do something that pleases them, a collar…when they want someone loyal to work for them. But if they grew tired of them, found even the slightest bit of fight or defiance? They’d dispose of them or throw them in a hole they wouldn’t be able to dig themselves out of.

You knew discrimination when you saw it, heard it even. And you knew first hand how it felt, even with your own family looking down on you, not because of the way you looked, but because of what you presented yourself as. Louis had a name for himself, but respect was rarely a two way street when someone of a higher status spoke to him. But you saw yourself as equals, human beings. There was no ill will you bore towards him, but you couldn’t understand the ill will he held towards you.

Seeing as Louis hadn’t responded, you found yourself a bit awkward and out of place. “Seems I’ve…overstayed my welcome. Tell Paul I said hello, I'll get out of your hair.”

“Wait–” Suddenly you felt a hand grip against your arm, tugging you gently before a sigh came from the other. “Look, I…I don’t hate you man. Grace chewed me out good when I told her I didn’t care to see your face around. I guess I just – I don’t know, I haven’t been myself lately is all. I’ve been a little unfair to you. Hell, even Paul says you're a walking angel…or something like that? What I’m saying is, I judged you too harshly before gettin’ to know you.” In that moment, Louis spoke with sincerity in his voice, though all you could hope is that it came from the heart as well.

“If that’s your way of apologizing, I ain’t complaining.” There was a cheeky smile that appeared on your face before you gave the other a knowing look. “If you wanted to really say you’re sorry, I’d love to see an encore of – what did you call it? The ‘ABCDEFGs’, was it?”

“Oh god, now don’t you go start’n nothin man!” Louis playfully punched your shoulder and flashed his brilliant white teeth as a smile appeared against his face. A much better look than him always running around with a frown, is what you thought.

“Well, I ain’t never seen nobody tap their feet like that, ain’t had a clue that the Louis du lac knew how to put on a show!” You joked on.

“Yeah, and it’s a first – and the last time you see’n any of that. You lucky it’s Graces wedding, I’d have been halfway down the quarter the moment those shoes came out if it wasn’t.” Louis let out a bit of laughter as you two seemed to go back and forth. He assumed that maybe he just had a little too much wine or maybe one too many slices of cake, that the sugar and the alcohol was getting to him. How did he not notice how much of a joy it was to be around you?

You didn’t bring anything dreary or depressing to the table, nor did you try to flex wealth or name to him, even upon meeting him. Maybe he’d invite you around more, for dinners, maybe an outing if he had time between handling his own work. It was a moment between you two before both your laughters died down and the voices of others clambering about reached your ears. The space between the two of you was impregnated by a comfortable silence shared, though it seemed as if something was being held back.

“So how has–”

“So how have you–”

You both stopped and chuckled before you nodded your head towards Louis. “Go ahead, and don’t fight me on it. If you do, I’ll forget what I was tryin to tell ya in the first place. It happens a lot, believe me. I got it in my head, so–” You then gestured for him to continue as you had started a quick ramble, trying to keep your question at bay and at the forefront of your mind before it disappeared.

“Right…?” He spoke, squinting at you for a moment before shaking his head. “Was just wondering, how you and Lestat was doin’ is all. Curious.” It seemed as if he was just as uncomfortable as he was eager for an answer when saying his name. You couldn’t blame him. Lestat was on Louis like a tick on a dog before you appeared, and after? It seemed like you were his new attraction, though after whatever disagreement or argument they last had, Louis seemed to have given him the cold shoulder.

“Honestly?...I’m not much sure myself. Figure he done got tired of lil old me is all. Haven’t seen him in some time now, a few weeks or so. Nothing to get all down about really. Flaunted about how I made him laugh and..a little more, but nothin special Louis. Last I heard, Les was looking for you. Kept wondering why it seemed like you were hidin’ from him.” You spoke truthfully as Louis’ brows furrowed together in thought before he swatted his hand.

“I stopped doing business with him. I figured I’m good on my own as is. It just wasn’t a right fit is all. Better that he’s not around no more. I can actually focus for once.” Picking up the wine glass he once abandoned while speaking to you, he took a sip before continuing, pointing a finger at you with the same hand that held said drink.. “So, what was it that you wanted to ask me?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but clearly the thought had already gone like the wind. Louis took that silence into consideration before sighing.

“I’m gonna take a wild guess and say you forgot?”

“Slipped my mind a bit, yeah,” you say sheepishly, rubbing the back of your head as you watched Louis smile behind his cup, shaking his head at your antics. “If I can’t remember, it couldn’t have been that important!” Though truth be told, you had another question now rolling about in your mind. Did he know about what Lestat truly was under the guise of being this charming foreigner who stumbled across such a place?

“Anyways, besides still handling the club right now, I’ve been enjoying the daylight hours much more. Sometimes…club gets boring. Same band playing twice that week? Pass. Place won’t burn down or go under if I leave for a night or two to sleep. Been visiting, though everyone said you’d been busy or asleep for the most part. Guess stopin to smell the roses every once in a while ain’t too bad.”

Louis returned a small smile to you. “You seem like you’re doing alright for yourself,” he praised, patting you on the shoulder. “If you ever need any help, I’m around. And from what I know so far, Grace ain’t gon’ leave you alone no way. If she had it her way, you’d be another brother I’d have to take care of.”

“Take care of? Me? I think that would be my job if anything. And look, Levi is already lookin at me like I’mma steal his wife away. It ain’t my fault she likes my company so much! Well that and she’s been craving those sugar cookies I brought some months ago. Promised I’d share the recipe at one point or another.” Suddenly you made a pained face as Louis slapped your arm in the exact spot that Grace pinched you, twice.

“Those were yours?!”

Rubbing against your poor sore arm, you nodded.“Yeah? Look, I can’t cook actual meals without damn near burning down half the block. I’m more useless than a pair of tits on a horse in the kitchen! Baking, that’s when you can be messy on purpose and try all sorts of stuff in the kitchen.”

Louis sighed with a grin on his lips before looking at you, this time having claimed the knowing look. “Well, now you’ll have me pounding at your door whenever I have a sweet tooth. Could have sworn they were some sort of imported sweets or somethin like that. Grace nearly took my hand for the last one.”

“I don’t doubt that, but she’ll take more than just your hand iffen she hears you getting the recipe before her.”

“Oh you know she wouldn’t do anything that crazy…”

The two of you paused and then glanced at each other for a split second before bursting out into laughter. Louis was half kneeled over while holding an arm against his stomach all while you tried to keep your balance with one hand on the table directly behind you. It took about a minute or two for the both of you to calm down, Louis wiping a stray tear from his eye. “Didn’t mean to have you all tickled t..tonight,” you stated as you proceeded to calm yourself down.

“I think they put something in the wine, I’m telling you.” Louis held up his nearly finished glass before turning and hearing you yawn. It was getting late, but for him, this was most likely going to be an all night event.

“I should be headin back to my place. Been up all day as nervous as a bull in a nursery. Not a wink of sleep either. Was worried I’d be out of place or that I was overdressed, or that the invite slipped through the wrong mailslot.” You never normally had anxiety play such a big part in your life, but it had you running rampant all morning.

Unable to think properly, your room was still a mess after throwing clothes out of the closet and stressing about what looks best with your favorite pair of boots. Lestat would have known how to dress you accordingly – now that was something that you truly missed. He refused to let you go out looking like a hot mess, though he didn’t mind dragging that hot mess around a corner and doing whatever came to mind when he felt like it.

“I take the blame for that. Shouldn’t have made you feel like I hated you so much. You’re pretty alright…’country boy’.” There was once again a grin on Louis face at the teasing name, noticing the eye roll as you soon said your goodbyes. As Grace called for her brother and you snuck another swig of wine on your way out, your exit was cut short by someone stepping right in front of you. And to your surprise, it was Paul.

Paul.

A sweet boy, his mother calling him fragile while others outside the family called in delusional. You weren’t one to ever judge, and you weren’t starting either. You were one of the few people who listened to Paul truly, not from being a patron of the church, not being paid in anyway. You knew his mind was different from others, but he was still flesh and blood, still human.

He never hurt anyone, and to call him crazy was more of an insult to him, and would do no good. You never thought he was crazy, not once. Just blessed in a different way, though you couldn’t help but to have your concerns. When he spoke to himself, knowing he’s been in and out of the institution, and how everyone seemed to worry – it would keep anyone on edge. But everytime he spoke to you, he never gave you any trouble. He was loved, and you could only hope that he kept a good head on his shoulders.

“Paul! It’s nice to see you again! I was just askin–” Suddenly he grabbed both your arms, a worried look appearing on your face as you looked back at his own concerned form.

“Are you still talking to him? That..”

“Les? No..I ain’t spoke to him in sometime. Is everything…okay Paul?”

“Keep away from him.” He spoke in urgency. “Louis is being dragged by that man – no – that devil. He ain’t got his claws in you yet, he’s tryin. Don’t let him take your wings, your light, please.” Paul warned, though his grip was as if you were going to disappear if he even thought to let you go. “Are you faring well? The birds asked about you, about your mind.”

“I’ve been alright, I assure you Paul. I want to put your uneasiness to rest, I’m takin’ good care of myself and can only hope that you are too.” You placed your hands against his own arms, giving him a reassuring squeeze before seeing him nod slightly, letting his grip slide and hands fall to his sides. “Been thinkin about what I’mma do with myself. Only job I have is running the club currently, I’ve started taking breaks though. Feels good, clearing my mind a much as my body. Sometimes you need a break from the loud music and attention, it gets to be too much for some people – for me. Being in the company of a good book at the end of the day can sometimes cleanse the soul.”

It wasn’t until then that a thought came to mind and you dug in your pocket, pulling out a silver chain necklace with a dove and a cross charm dangling from it. “Meant to give you this a while ago. Was from my own. I thought that maybe you’d find better use in it than me.”

Paul blinked for a moment, looking at the necklace in slight awe and confusion as it puddled into his hand, the chiliness of the metal bringing slight goosebumps. He looked at the piece of jewelry before rapidly shaking his head, balling his hand around it before trying to stuff it back in your hands, “I can’t – I couldn’t, you need them. Close to your heart.”

“Paul, please...I don’t mind. They would probably want it this way anyhow, not like any of my family’s gon ask about it anyhow.” As Paul opened his hand to drop the necklace in your palms, he could no longer feel it as your hands wrapped around his one. When you pulled away, none of you had it in your hands. Instead, it was somewhat wrapped around his wrist, a little trick you learned some time ago.

“I have to go, Paul, but I’ll see you soon, alright? Tell Ma du Lac I said hello, and make sure that brother of yours behaves!” You called out as you started making your way out of the yard, having eaten and drank your fill, and knowing Paul had yet to realize the necklace was on his wrist. When he did, he’d do his best to give it back to you, but you’d be too far gone for that to happen.

As you finally made your escape, you listened to the band play and as the music got further and further as you walked your way home. It was some distance away, but you couldn’t trust yourself to drive – not like many people trusted you behind the wheel anyways. You assumed that you would simply resume the life you lived before Lestat – thinking that he may have left the city, found some other enjoyment elsewhere, but he didn’t seem like the type to do so. That didn’t sound like your Lestat.

Your thoughts paused for a moment and a frown appeared on your lips. He wasn’t truly yours. You didn’t know what relationship the two of you shared, though his sweet words always seemed to seduce you back into his arms.

But you could say the same, how whenever you swooned over him, he seemed to melt right into your arms, begging you to tell him what he may have missed from being busy the days prior, or to simply know what thoughts were running through your head. And you knew his tricks – that he was more than fully capable of reading your mind, yet he would ask you. He would sprawl across your body like a common house cat while you’d yammer on, combing your fingers through his blonde locks while he cooed in his french tongue.

Shaking your head and trying to rid of the bittersweet memory that left an odd taste in your mouth, instead savoring the night you spent speaking with Louis and his family, not knowing what sort of darkness would soon befall them once the sun rose.

The rest of your night was spent in the comforts of your room, spending a few hours cleaning, biding time, too exhausted to manage a club and too caught in your own thoughts to go chasing after Lestat like a dog. You knew where he stayed, but he was free spirited. Did what he want when he wanted. Did as he pleased. Who were you, a small country boy who stumbled upon a vampire – who would you be to try and stop him? You could have prowled in the nighttime to try and look for him, but at the end of the day, he was the vampire, and you?

Human.

Your days and nights turned normal, more than you really wanted. There was no thrill, no real spark other than the new people that appeared every now and then at the club, new faces, new performances. And as the name of your club spread throughout the south, your name grew in popularity. There was a time where you’d presented yourself on stage after weeks of new encounters, introducing yourself before the main performance came on. Apparently your pre-show talk had the audience in tears, laughing, clapping, and asking for more.

You had a way about yourself to somehow make the room that much brighter. Comedy was now your limelight, though it didn’t take a genius to know that things came to you naturally. It wasn’t normal for cubs at the time, but it was your business after all.

Outside the club, a few weeks after the wedding, you learned of Pauls’ passing. You stopped by to state your condolences to the family, and even happened to ask where Louis went. When you finally got in touch with Grace – seeing as his Mama had nothing good to say about him – she said he’d done ran off. Whether it be the guilt of not being able to protect his brother from themself or because of all the sudden burdens he felt collapse onto him all at once. You knew Louis was probably devastated, but his sudden disappearance? It had Lestat written all over it, though you had once again heard nothing from one or the other, so what was the point in chasing after a ghost?

The next few months, Lestat seemed to fade into the back of your mind, nearly forgotten. Your days grew busier and the months grew bitter. Life went on as if the vampire never existed. Grace and yourself wrote weekly when you didn’t have time to visit and vice versa. She’d attended one of your shows when she had the time, with Levi in tow and the two even agreed that you were quite the comedian, though they weren’t much club goers.

Of course it wasn’t an every night thing and you had most definitely started to enjoy the mornings where you could occupy yourself and destress from the night before. Having to be around people, entertain, greet, drink, talk with others everyday got tiring real fast. If you didn’t catch a break or have a little ‘you’ time, people would start seeing a not-so friendly side of you that only showed up if you were woken up rudely. Overstimulated, if you will.

There were nights where you grew lonely, where the words on a page couldn’t serve much as companions. Not that Shakespere was the best partner in crime, but it did some to escape the dry and plain days that left you bored itching for something new. You weren’t one to walk the strip, not with the people that normally ran past those parts. You had no problem with the girls, but at the moment, none seemed to fit your taste, and none too many men were as open as you were.

You got the occasional gossip from one Jane to the other John – how people questioned the way you dressed, the way you spoke, how you acted between man and woman and who’s attention you’d seek out the most. You didn’t let such a thing get to your head, whether it was discrimination for which way your pendulum swung or otherwise.

But it didn’t seem to stop trouble from coming your way.

Occasional threats in the mail, rocks thrown at your windows in the dead of night, your car tires being slashed and car scratched to hell, yet no one ever knew how it happened or who did it. None of your neighbors knew, turning a blind eye and moving on. Typical. Getting replacements weren’t much of a problem, not when the club paid most of the bills, but it was a constant reminder of how people saw you, and how they would treat you like any other they found to be different.

The worst of it happened when you were stuck walking home one night, all by your lonesome and of course you just happened to stumble upon a group of soldiers, sailors – whoever they were – who’d either heard about you or seen one of your shows. A quiet walk turned into a limp home, bruises adorning your body and a soreness coming from your ribs. You knew better, knew how to defend yourself and de-escalate things when the heat rose.

Unfortunately you’d been dealt the shit hand. Having been up against two, you may have had better chances, but five men that were drunk off their asses? There was no chance for you, and at that rate, it was better to cover your head and tuck while they dealt whatever repressed rage onto your body. Nearly gave you a shiner — instead delivering you a rather nasty gash through your left brow. Thankfully your body took more blows, but the soreness would just be another thing to sleep off.

After all, it was just another Friday night for you – and another one-liner for your comedy act.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

“Another champagne for you Mr…”

“Nah, not right now, but thank you Miss Rosey, though I think the boys in booth four might need another round. And if they are giving you any trouble–”

“Oh don’t worry, you’ll know if they’ll cause trouble for me!” The server gave you a mischievous smile and a wink before she made her way over to the designated booth while you were left to your lonesome in your own private booth. You’d been listening to the band play for about half an hour before you started to tune it out, the noise fading into the background as you inked paper on folded knee. You’d started writing after some time, whether it was your thoughts or not, you weren’t quite sure. The words flowed like music, maybe more, but it was hard to decipher yourself. They were just words after all, blurbs, word vomit that you needed to get out before the thoughts left you. As you were feverishly writing, line after line, you heard your name in an almost questionable fashion. The first time it seemed to be a blur in between the music, maybe just a buzzing in the back of your head.

The second time seemed to focus you back to reality, the music coming back as loud and as blaring as it was before. Your head turned up, brows furrowing as a man stood in front of the circular table that separated the half circle booth and themselves. “Sorry, I…I was a little too focused on myself, need something?” The paper on which you wrote on was slipped and closed into a small booklet that you now settled on the table. The man that called out your name was not someone you’d seen before or even met – and you were damn good with names and faces, a little quirk that always kept people on their toes.

“I was just wondering if you were the owner of said establishment, heard a bunch of people yapping about it so I came over to chat was all!” He held a hand out to you before finally introducing himself. “Name’s Viktor Sawyer, new around here.”

“I can tell,” you replied, gripping his hand before shaking it. “You don’t sound like you’re from here no way. Where’d you hightail it from kiddo?”

“Kiddo?” He laughed, “You look just as young as me, maybe younger. But me? I’m from upstate. Took a heap load of train rides, boat down the Mississippi, ended up here after an all day ride in the back of a box car after my last ticket was stolen.” The man seemed to joke at the end of his sentence, but it was all too real for how easy it was for some people to get pickpocketed. “Mind if I?...” Viktor then gestured to the booth in which you rolled your head and patted against the booth.

“Oh, I don’t mind, but the ghost might find it pretty rude if you give them an unwanted lapdance.” As you shrugged and looked at the young man, they stared back at you with confusion before a small chuckle left their lips, understanding that you were simply poking fun at the moment.

“I’m sure the ‘ghost’ wouldn’t mind it at all. Probably the most action than they’ve had in some years, yeah?” He joked right back, sending a quirky smile of your own onto your face. It'd been sometime since someone tended to match your energy, not that you were complaining.

“Champagne?” You offered up, tilting your glass towards the side. “And you can't just say you’re from upstate and expect me not to be curious. Down here, we ain't much for keeping secrets, and I ain't got no ill will towards strangers, so don't be shy.” Gesturing for one of the server girls, you two would be sharing words for the majority of the night.

Now, your club was as thriving as all get up, but there was always a drawback as it was back in the days. Only certain people could get in, people with money, people with a name. No old Sam on the street could just waltz their way in, it was almost prestigious in a way. Not like you cared much for the highlights, seeing as you came to New Orleans a simple man with ideas of starting new. Of making your name for yourself. It almost happened overnight – it did happen overnight.

It wasn’t to be expected, but it was a pleasant surprise. The thought of the blonde vampire, creature of darkness, the man who seduced you with not only words, but his entirety…he’d done so much for you. And all you did was make him laugh. A joyful, boyish, carefree laugh as if he hadn’t laughed in centuries. True laughter, pure, not from a cruel dead or joke – not to spite someone – it was simply the joy he amounted by being with you.

Beyond the past thoughts of Lestat, you indulge yourself in Viktor Sawyer, a businessman from New York. After getting a few drinks in him, he spoke about his travels and the unsavory events that came with it. He was a workaholic as much as he was an alcoholic. He was looking for work, a partnership more like but he didn’t specify what. He had been twice divorced, let slip out that he seemed to dance to a different tune – not that you minded – but three hours passed and he was drunk on booze and wine.

He was a good six foot tall man, granted, he was a handsome fellow. Piercing green eyes, slick, short blonde hair, the suit he wore looked too tight on him. At one point the two of you were laughing at nonsense yet you were still somewhat sober, having only sipped through a glass or two while Viktor had ordered something a little stronger – had enough money to pay past the bill and even laid out a grand tip for the waitress.

Which led you to where you were now, roaming the streets of the quarter with a drunk businessman on your shoulder. It wasn't a great look for you as allegations and rumors were soon to spread, but at such a late time in the night others would probably be as drunk as Viktor was. His words were slurred but it seemed he was trying to flirt with you, hand running down the side of your neck and down your chest, doing his best to fiddle with the buttons on your white dress shirt.

And with him unable to tell you where he was staying, your only other option was to either leave him to some mugger or – to be a gentleman and let him sleep off the drinks for the night under a roof.

You just wished that it didn’t have to be yours.

By the time you’d gotten through the front door, Viktor draped over your own body like he was trying to be worn, you sighed heavily. “Alright Vik, gonna get you some water, let ya rest till the morn.” You were somewhat tired, seeing as your nights and days blurred and your body always needed a good 12 hours before it could get used to your odd schedule. You watched as the businessman seemed to flop himself on the couch with a bit of your guidance as well, reaching up to try and tug you down with him, “Vik–”

“Ain’t gotta be like that sweetheart, just returning the favor!” Viktor had already stripped off whatever overcoat was on his body, his breath reeking of alcohol as it wafted against your face. It caused you to inwardly cringe at the smell, but you knew the man was drunk off his ass. You weren’t much in the mood either, not like you’d seen much action in some time. But the man was intoxicated as hell and you weren’t interested. He leaned in close, trying to hold your face before you snatched yourself away.

“Viktor, come on buddy. I can’t do this, believe me. You’re a…nice guy and all but uh…”

“Oh baby please, you were lookin’ at me like I was a damn meal back at the club. Don’t tell me ya’ kept me laughing just for kicks?” He slurred, leaning in once more and almost placing his entire body weight onto you. Is that what he thought? That you wanted to get him into bed, even though it simply seemed like you two were just having a good time as newly acquainted friends. “Come on babes, you know how to have a fun time, right?”

Your eyes rolled as you helped Viktor onto his feet once more, watching as he stumbled to try and finger your shirt off. Even as you led him into your room and pushed him onto the bed, he sat back with a cocky grin upon his face. “Nuff with the nicknames ‘Slick’. Imma get you some water, now lay ya’ ass down. I brought you here because you could barely tell me where you were stay’n. Now, cool down before I do what my ma would do and beat the sense out and back into ya’.”

It was only then that when you turned around to walk away, your arm was grabbed and suddenly you were pulled into his lap. Yes, you could handle yourself against the man, not afraid of him at the least. You’d dealt with much scarier than a horny, boozed up businessman.

Scoffing, you felt his sloppy movements of his arm wrapping around your waist and a hand at the front of your throat. No wonder he was twice divorced with such a limp wrist on him. You didn’t care about how he seemed to whisper in your ear or try to kiss against your neck. It only made you retract, snatching yourself away again before hearing Viktor almost whine out. “Baby–”

“I ain’t ya’ baby, Viktor,” you stated plainly, back towards the man before continuing. “And don’t make me regret doing the right thing.”

“Taking me home?”

“Taking you in rather than leave’n you out of the street!” It was then that you felt Viktor cop a feel, in which case something in you turned. You whipped around, quick movements before your hands pinned Viktors against the bed, staring him down as you hovered over his body, straddling his waist as you kept him from moving or trying to make another move on you. Staring him down, you did your best to show some sort of intimidation, but the sudden actions seemed to spur the drunkard on, biting his bottom lip in amusement.

“Got no problem with you being on top either, I can play that game with you!”

You groaned out in annoyance, feeling the mans’ growing arousal as he tried to roll his hips up into yours. “Tired of your shit Viktor, get it together.” Pushing him back onto the bed with no sympathy for his drunken stupor you made your way out of the room, leaving the man to call your name as he sprawled upon the bed. You could hear him calling as you slipped into the kitchen and instead of fixing him anything to help him sober up, you splashed your own face. When did you get so strict, so antsy? You hadn’t had a night to yourself in some time. And for someone to be in your bed, to want to indulge in filthy pleasure, who were you to deny him? He was good looking, but drunk off his ass. And from the sounds of it, he wanted to be the one to lay you out for the night. You definitely weren’t interested.

Couldn’t seem to figure out if something was wrong with you at the time. Not to say you weren’t flattered by the other advances, before and after he was sloshed, but you felt nothing in retaliation. You simply had a good laugh, a few drinks, you hadn’t meant to charm him or give off that you wanted to sleep with him. Or did you? Lonely nights in an empty bed, an empty home no less. You weren’t the least bit interested in the whorehouse, not as if you didn’t care for the ladies themselves – calling you sweetheart and whatnot – but it wasn’t your current taste.

Splashing water onto your face, you calmed your racing thoughts down. Maybe one night wouldn’t hurt. Maybe something like this would help your mood from the normal drag. You were afraid you’d end up all mugfaced and mopey like Louis if you didn’t have time to truly enjoy yourself without it being a job or forcing yourself to do so. As water dripped down your face, your thoughts were split between “what would change in one night,” and “I don’t even like him like that! I’ll just sleep it off on the couch”.

Your mind seemed to go quiet just as Viktors calls for you went silent. Only then did you thank the higher powers that he finally passed out or gave up on his attempts to get you back there. Stripping off your own overcoat and walking back into the main room of your home, you dropped said cloth on the floor only to stand there frozen, stiff as a board once your head moved to look up rather than at your feet.

“Lestat?”

Your lungs seemed to lose air as you stared at him, confused as much as you were shocked. You questioned yourself, not knowing if you made him up in your fit of loneliness or if he was actually there, in the dim lighting of the room. He stood there, at the bottom of the steps that lead to your room but also against the wall that was directly across from the doorway of the kitchen.

That flawless face, chiseled jaw, god given face, wavy blonde hair you ran your fingers through more times than you could remember, his broad yet sculpturesque physic, those blue pools you’d get lost in no matter the time of day – it was him. In all his glory. It was only then that you finally came to your senses and realized that there was red dripping from his hands, not only coating his fingers, but it was dragged over his mouth – smeared – and slung across his shirt like a work of art. There was an almost unreadable look in his grey-blue hues, ones that could and did challenge the most beautiful of days, shaming the sky in comparison.

He didn’t move, almost like a statue, but with – what you could only assume was blood – slowly dripping down his fingers and onto the floor, it reminded you that you were not frozen in time. That he was there in all his glory, missing his normal presten overcoat that would go beautifully with whatever suit or undershirt he chose to wear, his blonde wavy hair let down, a bit unkempt compared to how neat and groomed he normally kept himself, but his body was still as water, as unmoving as a statue.

Almost.

You could barely tell if he was breathing, the stillness of his body startling you as you trekked carefully but moved in closer to him. It was only then when you inched towards the vampire did you notice the small trembles, the minute quivering of his hands that slowly clenched into bloody fist, nails digging into his palms. His chest rose and expanded as he took a breath in through his nose, jaw tightening as he stared you down. A sliver of fear seemed to jump up your spine at the subtle movement, but it didn’t stop you from slowly closing in. You were a mere stride away from standing directly in front of him, but before you could call out his name again, like a ticking time bomb – he exploded.

“You fool!” He roared out, causing you to nearly stumble back onto your ass. There was a look of anger written all over his face that was once completely unreadable. “You! You are pathetic! Ungrateful! Rien qu'une plaisanterie vivante, affamée d'amour et d'attention!” A loud crash could be heard as he used his strength to knock over a display, the power behind his hand flinging the rather sturdy and wooden case into the wall across the room as it caught air. Wood chips splintered every which way, glass shattering and sprinkling onto the floor. Your eyes flicked from the damage to the man who stood before you, chest now heaving as he started spewing curses in his french tongue and pointing at you.

You could barely understand him, though a few curses here and there from what he taught you, but you were more confused than scared at the moment. Fear was in the back of your mind, not as present as the sudden concern. “Les! What are you on about?”

“Espèce d'idiot! Espèce d'idiot de campagne, de petit ver de terre! Do not play dumb with me!” Lestat proceeded to call you out by your name as he spewed what you could only depict as insults.

Suddenly he started laughing.

His seemingly harmless chuckles escalated into full blood cackles, the man laughing harder and harder till it seemed almost hysterical. His pupils were dilated, fangs bared with blood dripping slowly down his chin, and his hand shaking as he continued to spew fire in your direction. “You think that you can replace me? De copier quelque chose qui ne peut pas être remplacé! Do you know who I am chéri?” Lestat questioned, almost softly before his tone roared out once again. “Do you know what I am!?”

“Lestat, what happened? You come in here all covered in blood after being away for this long, yelling at me?”

The vampire could not hear you, not over his constant ranting and yelling and french tongue that seemed to go on, venom seeming to be laced in every consonant and syllable. “After everything that I have given you! Comme mon cœur bat pour toi! Et pourtant tu essaies de faire en sorte qu'un salaud blond essaie d'être moi?! HA! Your funniest attempt at a joke yet! To stoop so low!”

“Les…” You were now more concerned than ever, watching as he stared pacing as if to restrain himself at the moment, his nails having swiped at the wall, ripping up the wallpaper and digging into the bricks that were settled underneath, carving into the harsh material while his hand remained unscathed.

“You are just like any other! Pitoyable! L'excuse la plus triste pour un homme! Rien qu'un chien qui a soif et aboie pour en savoir plus! Tellement impatient que vous ayez essayé de trouver quelque chose dont il n'y en a qu'un!” Lestat cackled as he seemed to move back and forth, looking towards you with a predatory gaze before looking at the floor, shaking his head and almost growling. Restraining himself.

“Les!” You tried again to call out for him, but he did not waver.

“Humans, you are all the same…! You are all ungrateful, insatiable pests! Meat for the slaughter and lambs for wolves! Je devrais vous vider et regarder la vie pitoyable que je vous ai fournie clignoter brièvement dans votre cerveau idiot..what was I thinking! You! You?!” He pointed at you once again, the manic grin never leaving his face. “J'ai eu pitié d'un chien qui n'a aucune loyauté!”

“Lestat! Calm–”

“Good for nothing! A dull piece of entertainment! A clown above all clowns! Une pitoyable excuse de fils! No wonder your kin left you high and dry!”

“Lestat!–”

“Une pitoyable excuse pour un humain! Who would ever want you anyways! Laper goulûment ce qui reste d'une bonne chose! An ungrateful mutt!” His voice came out raw, almost hurt as he overwhelmed your own voice, giving you no space to speak.

“Les–”

“N'étais-je pas assez bien pour toi?! Je ne te suffisais pas! Too boring for the great comedian you came to be?! Est-ce pour cela que vous avez choisi de vous coucher avec une excuse pathétique pour un remplacement!?”

“Le–”

“Je ne suis pas assez bien pour toi!? Assez bon pour garder seul votre amour seul?! Is that too much to ask for!?”

“LESTAT!”

Your voice seemed to boom with sudden authority, your hands finding his wrist before pushing his body back into the wall, practically sandwiching him between that and your own body. The room that was once filled with the rampant yelling and swears of French from Lestat and your desperate attempts to call out for him were now silenced. It was now only the pants between the both of you as his was from his outburst, you, from the sudden burst of adrenaline that seemed to flow through your veins. The two of you stared each other down, getting lost in one another's gaze.

Lestat had never heard you so demanding, never having raised your voice in such a way, not even in a playful manner towards him. You’d never been rough with him, and even in bed he would have to coax you to handle him with something other than tenderness in the mix. Your grip on his wrist was enough to bruise any other human, but the strength you’d projected was enough to stun the vampire out of pure shock.

The once tense and chaotic air calmed as the two of you stood in silence, you waiting for him to calm down and get he was waiting on you to yell at him, attempt to hit him, hurt him for the destruction and his outburst. His temper was unruly, unpredictable like the weather sometimes, but he'd never flared up in front of you in such a way.

But instead of harsh words or screams back in his face after all he said and done – most you could barely understand – you'd slowly shifted your hands. Moving from holding his wrist, up his arms and shoulders and to his face, cupping it gently, while the same concerned look lingered in your loving gaze. “Les…speak to me. Here I was, worried sick about you for weeks on end, and now you come here? Covered in blood and yellin who knows what?”

You did not scold him or respond with hatred. You spoke in a soft tone he almost didn’t recognize, as if trying to coax a scared and wounded animal.

He didn't respond, instead staring at you with mild confusion. Why were you treating him so kindly, even as he looked and acted as if he was two seconds away from ripping your throat out and tearing apart your innards.

Lestats' form looked disheveled, his blood coated dress shirt now somewhat torn, the collar ripped and stretched down, exposing the skin on his right shoulder and arm as the cloth dangled pitifully. A mess he was and yet you held him so gently, spoke to him so kindly, so sickeningly sweet in his eyes.

Your foreheads touched as you leaned in, noses brushing as you claimed his attention yet again, seeing the dazed expression, almost as if he couldn't believe what was happening. You knew the blood on him was from upstairs, that your guest was most likely dead from the bloody footsteps that lead down the main room.

Suddenly his lips lifted in a snarl. “You smell of him, that drunkard—”

“I helped him for the night. Was bein’ kind and all. We had a drink, but I didn't feel anything for him Les.” It was your turn to interrupt him, thumb brushing against his cheekbone as blood stuck to your own palms. You could tell that he was angry, possessive even, but you'd never seen it to this existent. Only then, after holding him for so long did you realize his face was ice cold, blood on his mouth but his body void of warmth.

“Did you not feed on him Les? You're colder than a bare ass in winter.”

Even that seemed to keep him shocked, how you noticed the little things, that the warmth of fresh blood did not flow through him. Only you would pick up such minute details at that moment, only you paid him that much attention. “I cared not for his putrid blood.” He muttered, your gaze holding his own as he wished to look away. He wasn't embarrassed, but it seemed as if he was almost flustered, confused even as his brows pinched.

“You haven't changed much. Still the magnificent…unpredictable Lestat.” You knew now why his anger flared up, the sudden appearance and unprecedented feelings. He didn't like the idea of someone else in your bed, someone who seemed to resemble him – even though you didn't see the two looking any more similar than a black and a white horse. “Lovely, I wasn't gonna lay with him if that's what ya’ think. He wasn't my type anyways,” you attempted to laugh, though it came out as more of a sad half winded chuckle.

“I apparently only have space in my heart for the man who always laughs at my jokes…no matter how bad they are.” Your own gaze lingered towards his stained lips before glancing back up. “For the French man who came to me at the bar, listening to me yap up a storm. Who lied with me in the field and gave me hope for a future…one I thought I would never be worthy of, just as I feel unworthy of the love that man gives me and shows…" As corny as you normally were, this was something you wanted the vampire to understand. That as a human, fragile being that could be killed by his hands, you still loved him. Even now. Even as you tried to forget about him, to think of him as nothing but a dream for as long as he was gone, your heart yearned for him dearly.

As those last words tumbled from your mouth, your lips crashed into each other. It would be humorous to say that sparks flew, but there was a sudden fire that seemed to flare inside of you. It was bound to the both of you, the further in you two got, the hotter and brighter that flame got until it was a raging inferno. The kiss went from being one of longing to a much sloppier, needy entanglement. The metallic taste didn’t bother you, barely phasing you. Your hands went from cradling his face to holding him, threading through his hair and one lowering to his waist to keep his body close. In retaliation, Lestat held your own face, the sticky blood smearing onto the side of his face. You didn’t dare pull away as you felt the nips at your bottom lip, his tongue wrestling with your as your lungs were slowly deprived of oxygen. You mumbled his name against his lips, subtly pulling away to find air, but Lestat refused to let you. He almost let out a possessive growl that rumbled in his chest, almost unnoticeably as he didn’t need air and wanted to soak you up in every way, shape, and form.

By the time you’d been let go, he barely let you move away, foreheads touching yet again as your lungs did their best to regain what was lost. You were panting and lightheaded, a thin string of saliva connecting your bottom lip to his, swept away with his tongue. There were no words shared at that moment, lost in each other's loving gazes as your hearts were racing, thundering like wild horses and unruly storms. There was a twister of emotions swirling within the both of you, and yet you simply couldn’t put them into words.

Your lips pressed against his briefly, only to start peppering kisses onto his skin. Against the side of his lips and down his jaw, against his bloody throat, down to his collar and shoulder. You left a trail, admiring him, pampering him, spoiling him with your love and adoration like you normally did. Something you never strayed from. Your kisses kept, from his shoulder down his exposed arm, all the way down to his blooded knuckles in which you pressed your lips to as if he was royalty. “Les,” you muttered against his hand, watching as he seemed to shudder.

The look in your eyes had shifted to something more, a desire, a hunger. He could feel your sudden desire, blazing like the fire that roared within you.

You both wanted each other, needed each other.

Bad.

“Lestat–” The vampire in question hushed you with his finger, tilting you chin before pressing a kiss against your lips yet again. When he pulled away, he practically purred out.

“One moment mon chéri..” His voice was barely above a whisper as you chased after his lips, whining as he slipped away from your hold and moved up the stairs. When he was suddenly out of sight, you were left standing alone and wishing for him to come back in your arms, but you would be patient, just one last time. But now that you were here, you were like an excited puppy who’d just been told to sit.

“Course he done got me all riled up, then just…” You gestured towards the stairs as you spoke to yourself, sighing and wiping the blood away from your mouth with the back of your hand. You could only imagine the mess in the room if Lestat had dealt with Viktor. The amount of blood and the fact that he didn’t drink from him was rare, to say he had a distaste for someone's blood when you knew he fed upon others and sapped their life away as easy as a snap of your fingers. And yet he was careful every time he drank from you. Tender, making sure you didn’t pass out or lose consciousness, listening to your heart rate and showing much restraint to not be as greedy as he wanted with you.

Even he knew that if you egged him on, it would be that much harder to contain himself. Fortunately you didn’t have to wait long before your name was called, which caused you to scurry up the stairs so fast that you almost face planted by the time you got to the top, grabbing onto the railing before turning into your room.

It wasn’t as bad as you first thought, the bed looked perfectly fine beside the covers being pulled here and there, but you could see the blood seeping through the carpet on the opposite side of the bed. It was only then that you heard a small whistle, looking over towards the side where the bathroom was. Lestat stood in the doorway, shirtless, the blood on his face and down his neck having been rinsed and wiped off, beside the obvious smudges still left on his skin. Though there was one thing that stood out rather boldly against his skin.

Perfectly painted onto his lips was a rather glossy – oily even – rich scarlet color that popped in comparison to his pale skin.

Not blood.

No.

Lipstick.

He chuckled as he watched your head tilt to the side rather curiously, thankful that he couldn’t feel the heat that traveled to your face. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you mon chéri,” Lestat started as he slowly made his way over to you, almost as if he was prowling. Before you knew it, he’d pushed you back onto the bed, straddling your lap with your face now in his hands. You melted at the feeling, almost as touch starved as he was for you. Your hands now placed on his own waist you pulled him closer, both of your bodies buzzing with a newfound arousal.

Lestat leaned closer to your face once more, head tilting as he captured your lips once more. A hum escaped you as you could taste him yet again, letting out an audible groan as your groins rolled into one another. You wanted him badly. You were smitten with the man, his voice, his touch, the need to have him in your arms and in your bed, it was a greed you wanted to give into.

Another whine left you as his lips left your own, moving to kiss the corner of your mouth and then your cheek. Your jaw was next, his lips pressing against every inch or your jawline and even underneath. He’d kissed down your throat as you tilted your head up, exposing more of yourself to him as he continued his path. Lestat had to stop himself from wanting to prick your throat. He could hear the blood just below your skin, feeling the heat it gave off as it ran, how good it would taste after straying away for so long.

You couldn’t control the moan that left your lips as he showered your throat in almost endless kisses, down your collar and against the crooks of your neck. By the time he’d finished and met with your dazed face again, he seemed very proud of his work.

As your half lidded eyes glanced down at Lestats face, you could see him practically glowing, as radiant as ever, even with the smudged lipstick on his lips.

Though it was your appearance that seemed to get him even more eager to take what was his.

In a flash, you two were on each other, magnetized as your hands groped and felt against one another. Clothes were ripped off, shredded, torn, thrown in this direction and another, but neither of you cared for the mess. You only cared for each other, like you were the only two left in the world. Rolling around on the bed, you ended up locking your arms under Lestat, keeping him in place as you leaned down and assaulted his throat, marking him up the best you could.

You knew he liked it rough, but it was hard to do so when you practically worshiped him. It wasn’t an act, did. But you missed him like the stars and the moon and you wanted him to know that deep down. That you loved him, whether he reciprocated or not. You wanted to be selfish, keep him in your arms forever. And as selfish as it was for you, you only hoped that he wanted the same, even as you were weaker than the vampire himself.

The guttural noises left Lestat as you bit down near the crook of his neck, hands slipping down to his bare thighs as it hooked onto your hips. His head was thrown back into the pillow that rested under his head, blonde hair sprawled out behind his head as he called your name once more, feeling as needy as ever. “Don’t tease me mon chéri, I’ve been too long without you…”

Grunting out, you felt his fingers against the back of your head as you proceeded to leave marks against his throat, hickies and dark bruises, but not deep enough to break or to draw blood like you wished. When you pulled away to look at your work, his hand caressed the side of your face and he watched as you leaned into the feeling pressing your lips against the side of his palm before looking down at him with a sense of yearning. A longing that’s been stirring inside you since the first week you missed him.

“Normally you are the chatterbox instead mon garçon de la campagne. Why the sudden silence?” Even after the intrusion, outburst and overall assault that happened not too long ago, he enjoyed your voice. How you praised him and cared for him so. It was unorthodox that you weren’t speaking, even now. Not to say that he didn’t like your brutish noises as you indulged yourself, but it was one of the qualities that made him attracted to you.

It wasn’t until that statement did you look Lestat dead in the eyes and spoke. “Doll face, I love you to the ends of the world and back, but right now I just want to hear you scream my name.” That seemed to stun the blonde once again. “And I got better uses for ma’ mouth right now. Not enough time to talk.” Your voice shifted towards a lower town as you dipped down to assault Lestat's chest, one of your favorite places to spoil.

As the vampire's voice rang within the room, his back arching off the bed as you did your best to mark up his chest in bite marks of all sorts. You found great joy in seeing his body react in such a way as your mouth enveloped one of his nipples, tracing your tongue around the sensitive nub before using the edge of your teeth to tug, his body pressing up against yours and nearly lifting off the bed itself.

But Lestat wanted more. He’d been away for too long and was tired of the foreplay. “I…I am not a virgin,” he panted out. “I can handle myself just fine.”

“Let me treat ya’ like it anyways baby doll…”

And as his eyes rolled to the back of head, your mouth loved on and against every part of his body, your fingers finding spots that made his body curl and mewl in weakness as he wanted more. The slow and tender you fed him lit his entire body up in the best way imaginable, his voice loud enough for anyone in the quarter to hear.

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Your back ached as you sat up from the bed, the stinging sensation of Lestat’s nails running down skin lingered even hours after wearing him down the best you could. The beauty in question rested right beside you, curled up in the sheet and his head nuzzled up against your side.

You knew that he wasn’t asleep, but simply closed his eyes to briefly rest. He’d have to return home soon, to rest inside his coffin and to dispose of the body that was unfortunately still slumped against the side of the bed. In the heat of things, you barely cared that there was a dead person mere feet away from you as Lestat was the only thing in your mind through the night. As you made your way off the bed and into the bathroom, your lower waist was just as roughed up from the rather crushing gripped Lestat had with his legs clinging onto you with such force.

You could barely remember how many times you made him cum that night, but it was enough that your own hips were starting to bruise. His voice calling out your own was like a symphony of its own, causing a cheeky smile to appear on your lips. By the time you’d gotten into the bathroom and stepped in front of the mirror, you were shocked. On not only your lips but splayed all over your cheek, neck, and even covering the majority of your collarbone was lipstick stains from Lestat.

It hadn’t registered back then how much he’d done, but now it was clear as day, he marked you. You could remember him muttering how he would erase any trace of that drunk businessman, especially if there were any traces of him on you. Your neck itself was sensitive as all getup, especially after Lestat fed off you that night. No wonder you felt light headed and weak on your feet. “God, I hope this can wash off,” you muttered to yourself, though you weren’t opposed to the idea of Lestat doing this more often.

“I doubt it will…” Lestat stepped in behind you in all his nude glory before hugging against your waist and placing his chin against your shoulder. “And if it does…I’ll do much worse than this.” A grin appeared on his face as his looked at you through the mirror, watching as you replicated the same grin. For the moment, the two of you stayed there, swaying in one another arms before the vampire spoke up. “I..I am cursed with my maker's temper…I meant no harm. I saw that man in your bed when I came to surprise you and–”

“No need for an apology Les…I missed you too.” Turning your head, you kissed against his hair before sighing. “You were gone for so long..thought you’d up and left. Wasn’t gonna bother you no way if you didn’t wanna see me.”

Lestat stared at you in silence for the longest before shifting his gaze elsewhere. “I have a good reason for why I was gone. I did not merely abandon you…but there is someone I have to speak with you about.”

“Who?” There was only one other person that you could think of at the top of your head, especially with the series of events that had happened in the past.

“Louis…”

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a/n : who let me cook?? Anyways, thank you for reading so far! Replies and repost are appreciated! Thank you for reading!

please do not repost my work on other sites! thank you! - @that-one-malereader-enthusiast

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[charliemwrites]

Part 5 of Mister(s) Steal Your Girl

Long awaited, but no Johnny smut just yet. Soon, I promise. (And Kyle will be back. It's been so long since he's gotten to smooch our dear reader.)

Also! A little reminder than you can check the queue to see what I plan to post for next. I try to update it often as the worms wiggle. Next I plan to do the final chapter of Greater Bad. (Unless I get my not-so-secret, no-longer-a-surprise oneshot out first)

Lastly! Please note that I wrote the "posts" from his perspective. So inconsistencies with the actual story and any grammar/spelling errors were purposeful or for "authenticity".

Content: Brandon.

r/CakeEater _OnBrand_ I asked my fiancé for an open relationship before marriage. It worked. A while ago I posted on r/adultery about the affairs (yes, multiple) I was having behind my then-gf’s back. We’d already been dating for ~4 years and I was seeing one of my coworkers (my “work wife”) regularly and one of her coworkers on and off. People on my other post were critical and called me all sorts of things like selfish and pig. I know it’s not traditional, but I genuinely don’t think I could ever be satisfied by one woman. My work wife (Rachel) and fiance’s coworker (Lucy) provide things my fiancé just can’t but I still love my fiancé. She’s the woman I’m going to spend the rest of my life with. When I posted on r/adultery I was trying to figure out how to propose without her finding out. I knew she’d expect me to help with stuff and possibly want to look at my phone more often. It would have been harder to sneak off to meet up with Lucy or Rachel with wedding planning and I was sick of being stressed she would find out. Some nicer people on the post suggested I ask for an open relationship. I took their advice and sat her down to sell the idea. It’s a good thing I’m so good at sales (top 3% in my company for 5 years in a row) because she agreed. Yes, actually agreed. At first she got kind of pale and her eyes got really big and blank. I thought for sure she was about to start crying and run off. Maybe even kick me out. She doesn’t really get angry but she gets upset and it freaks me out. After I explained everything about how good it would be for us though, she agreed. This is my official unlimited hallpass. I’ve been seeing Rachel on weekends and Lucy once or twice during the week for drinks. Tonight I’m going to sign up for every dating site I can. Tinder, Bumble, Hinge. If anyone has other suggestions, I’ll check those out too. Fiance has been kind of off but I think it’s just an adjustment period. Sometimes I can tell she’s been crying but she hasn’t come to me about it so she’s probably just being emotional about all the changes. At least she’s got our house to focus on while she gets used to things. I feel a little bad about running out every night but she’s just so mopey and sad all the time and it’s not enjoyable to be around. I know she probably feels like I’m abandoning her a little but once she starts getting back to normal I’ll spend time with her again. You really can have your cake (all the cakes heh) and eat them too. Edit: no, I never told her that I already had Lucy and Rachel and I’m not going to. What good would it do? She’s already agreed to an open relationship and telling her that I didn’t have permission first would just hurt her for no reason.

Kyle’s been gone for two (long, lonely) weeks when he finally gets a chance to call. So far, he’s only been able to send scattered texts at odd hours. Always something sweet – telling you he’s alright, or that he’s thinking of you. Sometimes you even catch him for a brief exchange before he apologizes and “goes dark” again.

Not that you begrudge it. This is part and parcel of dating him and you knew that going in. You’re not complaining when he’s putting his life on the line so that the public can live in blissful peace.

That doesn’t stop you from missing him though. His hugs, his smile. Getting his voice - even roughened by distance - is a nice compromise though.

“How have you been holding up, chickadee?” he asks after the initial reassurance that he’s whole and hale. 

“Easier this time!” you answer proudly. “I know what to expect with you gone and Johnny’s good company.”

“Yeah?” he asks, sounding pleased.

You can just imagine him now, leaning his hip against the nearest surface, arms crossed over his broad chest. He tends to duck his head when he smiles, and you unintentionally grin to yourself, thinking of him hiding into his phone. God, you miss him. 

“Mhmm! We found a board game bar that you’re going to love. Oh, and we’re going to the Hay Festival this weekend.”

He hums. “I’m sorry I can’t be there to take you, luv, but I knew Johnny would be good to you.”

More than good to you, really. There’s not been a day he doesn’t call to check up on you - if he doesn’t see you in person, that is. Dinner, movies, coffee. He’s somehow both a gentleman and an incorrigible flirt, but only with you. He’s nothing more than polite to anyone else, keeping his focus on you and whatever the two of you are doing.

You don’t know what to do with the undivided attention. If you didn’t know better…

“You two are getting close,” Kyle observes.

“I think so,” you admit, then hesitate. “Is… that okay?”

“‘Course, luv. I’m glad.”

You blink. “You are?”

“He’s my best mate and you’re my best girl.”

An odd pang of anxiety pierces your chest. Johnny calls you that too. His “best girl.” You love hearing it - but maybe you shouldn’t?

“It… doesn’t bother you? That we’re spending so much time together.”

He snorts softly, but it’s not derisive. It’s a noise he makes whenever he thinks you’re being silly, but his voice comes out soft and warm. Not an ounce of condescension.

“No, baby, I’m not fussed. You spend your time with whoever you want, however you want. Yeah?”

Your chest floods with warmth. “Okay.”

“There’s a love. I’ve got a brief, so I have to go. I’ll call soon as I can.”

“Be safe, Ky.”

“Do my best. Give Soap a smooch for us, aye?”

You blink as he hangs up. That’s a new one.

You ponder over it while packing on Thursday night. Was it just a joke? A tease at the little crush you’ve developed for Johnny?

Because it is a crush, you know it is. It’s impossible not to be attracted to him. Not with that smile, that laugh, the goofy humor and sweet mannerisms. He still sends you flowers every few weeks - just as the previous ones are about to die. It’s so thoughtful; you’ve started feeling a bit warm every time you look at them.

But you feel greedy, being even remotely interested in anyone else. You have Kyle and Brandon (even if you two are going through a… patch) and that should be enough for you. Shouldn’t it? You’ve never been with more than one person at a time before; it took you weeks to shake the compulsory guilt when you first met Kyle. It feels almost unforgivably audacious to want Johnny too, especially since he’s Kyle’s best mate.

Still… Kyle’s not a jealous or passive-aggressive guy. You’ve been with him long enough now that you know he’d just tell you outright if he was unhappy about something. And he’s been with you long enough that he can surely tell you’re more than a bit fond of Johnny.

Maybe that’s why he made the joke about “smooching” him.

Regardless, you want to talk to him about it. Things always make sense when you think out loud to him. His levelheaded and practical approach to difficult topics always straightens your panic spirals out into neat lines.

Plus, it’s not as comforting to hold your own hand. (God, when is he getting back?)

“Where are you going?”

You blink up at Brandon, folded pajamas in hand.

“The Hay Festival,” you answer.

Speaking of - you slip past him into the bathroom. He doesn’t follow, rooted to the spot spinning his phone around in his hands.

“Alone?”

You snort. “Of course not, I’m going with a friend.”

The allergy pills are at the bottom of the medicine basket beneath the sink. You really need to organize it the next time Johnny’s too busy to hang out. There’s no way you need three bottles of paracetamol. 

“I need that suitcase.”

You toss the bottle in and pivot for the dresser. “What for?”

He shifts, eyes sliding away. “An… overnight.”

Ah. That’s what he’s calling it now?

You snatch a few (too many) pairs of underwear from the dresser.

“Just bring them here,” you say over your shoulder.

There’s a long, tense beat of silence but you’re too busy rummaging for socks to break it first. Will it be too warm for thigh-highs? Eh, you’ll go with the sheer ones; the little lace roses match one of your dresses anyway.

“Bring who here?” Brandon asks slowly.

When you turn, he looks paler than usual. You shrug, trying to project casual comfort.

This is a totally normal and reasonable conversation to have. Just a couple in an open relationship, discussing a stranger coming to the house for a shag. Nothing to make a fuss over.

“Whoever you need the suitcase for? I know you’ve had people over before anyway, and I’ll be gone all weekend.”

He stutters, color returning to his face in bright pink blooms. “Why do you think I’ve had people over before?”

You arch an eyebrow. “I do the laundry, remember? And there was lipstick on one of the wine glasses.”

That had sent you into a tizzy at the time, disgusted that some stranger was in your bed, with your fiancé. You washed the sheets twice on the hottest setting and tossed in a bit of bleach for good measure. Hadn’t been able to look at him the whole week - not that he was there much to not look at.

Now, though, you seem to have adjusted to the idea, even if you’re still not thrilled. Brandon can have his… whoever over, and you’ll goof around with Johnny in Wales.

“Just toss the bedding in the wash afterwards,” you add.

“I thought you do the laundry,” he sniffs.

“I’m not traveling all day just to do chores when I get home,” you answer. He does a double take like you’ve started speaking a new language. “You’ll be here all weekend, I’m sure you’ll have time.”

He opens his mouth, and you can tell already that he’s about to argue - though you don’t really know what about. It’s not like he can’t do laundry or dishes, after all. He lived alone before you moved in together.

Thankfully, his phone distracts him before he can form the words. He spins away to tap at the screen and shuffles out of the room, shoulders till tense. You go back to packing and teasing Johnny about the amount of hair gel he’ll bring.

Friday afternoon can’t come fast enough. Even though you’ve taken a half day from work, the few hours seem to drag. You’re practically daydreaming about the food and drinks, music and activities. There’s a baker’s dozen art stalls you want to check out as well, and a gift to pick out for Kyle…

“Hope yer thinkin’ o’ me when ye make tha’ face.”

Your head snaps around so fast, you nearly give yourself whiplash. Johnny grins down at you in all his casually handsome glory – ripped jeans, green tee, and brown boots. Angels are singing somewhere, you think. Or maybe that’s just your nosy coworkers ogling from their own cubicles.

The reality of him sinks in a moment later and you leap up from your cushy chair – and right into his arms. He’s like a furnace compared to the cool, conditioned air of your office, a welcome source of warmth for your chilly fingers.

“What are you doing here?” you giggle. “Who let a rowdy guy like you in?”

He smells like bergamot and pine. It takes active thought to resist pressing your face into the crook of his neck. It looks cozy there.

As always, he squeezes you a bit tighter just before letting go.

“Hey now, Marcy’s a discerning lady. She knows a fine gentleman when she sees one.”

You snort, belied by the smile curling your lips. “She may need new glass then.”

“Och, don’t go talkin’ poor about my second-best gal now.”

“Is it that easy to get in your good graces?” you scoff, glancing at the time on your computer. It’s later than you expected; no wonder he came up to retrieve you. You spent so long daydreaming that you’ve lost track of time.

“Aw don’ be green, dove, you’re still my number one. Send ye flowers ‘n all.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Yeah, and now I’m wondering just how special that is.”

He stands close, proclaiming his case for how obviously special you are while you shut everything down for the weekend. You’re only half listening to the bit, admittedly. Mostly just basking in your excitement for the mini road trip and the weekend to come. You have no doubt that it’s going to be fun, even if it would be better with Kyle along too.

“Where are you headed off to?” Lucy asks.

“Hay Festival,” you answer shortly.

You’ve never been a big fan of Lucy, but lately she’s been insufferable. Talking over you during meetings, leaving you out of emails, throwing away papers at the printer. (Okay, you haven’t seen her do that last one, but you know.) Worst of all, she can help but make backhanded comments about every flower delivery.

“You’re not taking Brandon?” she simpers. “Something wrong?”

“He’s hanging out with a friend this weekend too,” you correct, “and he doesn’t like hay.”

“Shame that,” Johnny adds, sounding like it’s not a shame at all.

You haven’t told him much about Brandon – but you’re sure that Kyle has. From the face Johnny makes the rare times your fiancé comes up in conversation, he doesn’t think much of Brandon.

“Have fun you two!” your manager, Selene, calls.

You wave and shoot Lucy one last, unimpressed glance before stepping onto the elevator with Johnny.

r/CakeEater _OnBrand_ My fiancé is going on a weekend getaway with another man. I’ve posted in r/adultery and r/cakeeater before. I’m not looking for judgement or insults here. I really just want advice.

A little context: my fiancé and I are in an open relationship and it’s been like this for a few months now. I originally asked her to ope the relationship and for a while she was weird about it but lately she’s been getting sbetter. I thought she was finally getting used to me going out with other women and things were getting back to normal.

A few weeks ago, I noticed she was on her phone more. Like, all the time. Even at dinner when she used to be really picky about phones at the table. One day I came home from work and she was talking on the phone to someone. Giggling and laughing. When I turned the corner she was kind of blushing too. It kind of bothered me but I figured she was talking to a friend and just hot from cooking or something.

Lucy texted me pissed off one day, asking why I was sending my fiancé flowers but not her. I told her I hadn’t sent any flowers. I think they’re way too expensive for how long they realistically last and that they take up a lot of unnecessary space. But I thought it was weird that someone was sending my fiancé flowers and got kind of uncomfortable. That’s a pretty romantic gesture and her family isn’t the type to randomly send flowers either.

I tried taking her out on a date but she was all mopey again and turned her phone to ‘do not disturb’ so I wouldn’t even see if she was texting someone. We don’t have much to talk about now. I love her but she’s not a good storyteller or into very interesting things. All her ‘funny stories’ are just mundane things that happen during the day. We’ve run out of interesting topics about because we’ve been together so long. (That’s why I like having more than one partner.)

Yesterday she randomly started packing for a trip. I don’t even think she was planning to tell me until I asked her. She was packing a bunch of cute clothes too. Like dresses and tights and things like that. Stuff she only used to wear on our dates. I asked who she was going with and she just said ‘a friend’ which is weird because she would usually say the name of someone even if I don’t remember who they are.

Well today Lucy sent me a picture of my fiancé leaving her job with some guy. I couldn’t see his face because he was turned away, but I could see the side of my fiancé’s face and she was smiling at him. I got this awful sinking feeling in my chest like it was hard to breathe. It took me a few minutes to process that she’s going away for a weekend with a complete stranger.

Doesn’t she know how dangerous that is? Where did she even meet this guy? They’ll be gone all weekend so are they sharing a room? A bed? I nearly threw up thinking all these things as I called her.

I asked her to cancel her plans and come home. She seemed confused and reminded me that her plans were with someone else and it would be rude to ditch last minute. I told her I wanted to spend the weekend with her and that I’d been missing her. She seemed surprised and said that she’d see me on Sunday night, but she was looking forward to the festival with her ‘friend’ and wanted to go. As a last ditch effort I asked if her friend was more important than me, nearly begging at that point. She must have heard the desperation in my voice, but she just told me that she was already on the road and it was too late.

My fiancé doesn’t like lying but it’s hard to believe this guy was just a friend. Even if she sees him as a friend I know how men think and I doubt he sees her the same way.

She said some other weird stuff before she left about having someone over while she was gone. I don’t get it. How could she just casually invite someone else into our house like that? Has she had other people over? Is she dating now?

I’m not sure what to do. I don’t like that she put this trip over me. Should I talk to her about how bad this makes me feel? Should I call again and tell her to come home more forcefully? Am I blowing all of this out of proportion?

Edit: she doesn’t know that I’ve been seeing Lucy. I haven’t told my fiancé about any of the women I’ve been seeing. (mostly just Lucy and Rachel. I’ve done a lot of texting through apps and gone on a bunch of first place, but most women don’t put out right away and I usually can’t be bothered to get to know them better). Even then, I wouldn’t tell her about lucy. They don’t get along and never have. It would cause a lot of unnecessary drama.

First | Previous | TBC... Masterlist

[yandereunsolved]

5 Things You Probably Shouldn't Say On A First Date

ft. Yandere FIXER Team • Crash, Duke, Izzy, Lilly, Peanut, Pops, Target, Wes[ley] •

🅨🅐🅝. 🅒🅡🅐🅢🅗

#1 “ I guess I can stand your presence enough to go out on a date with you. ”

#2 “ You're safe with me―forever. ”

#3 “ At first, I thought you were an irritant like the rest, but it's nice to enjoy someone's voice that isn't over the radio. ”

#4 “ You really should stop hanging around so many people. They don't care about you. I'm only telling you this- because I do... care... about you. ”

#5 “ I-I love you. ”

🅨🅐🅝. 🅓🅤🅚🅔

#1 “ You, me, plus a bottle of alcohol equals body shots. ”

#2 “ Let's go play one of my favorite games: "throwing explosives at people we don't like." ”

#3 “ Not more drunk than usual. Then again, your very presence seems to intoxicate me. ”

#4 “ Fuck, fuck, fuck! Why does someone or something always have to interrupt our time together? Sometimes I wish I could just blow up everything except us so we could get some much-needed alone time. ”

#5 “ You should totally let me pretend to kidnap you. I'm pretty good at Shibari, if you were worried. ”

🅨🅐🅝. 🅘🅩🅩🅨

#1 “ Clearly, you have not found my fanfictions about us, or you wouldn't be here right now. ”

#2 “ You know I'd break my perfect record―break someone―for you. ”

#3 “ Yeah, I wouldn't worry. I don't think any of your exes are going to live long enough to bother you. ”

#4 “ I'm not trying to control you! I'm just saying... hanging out with the other dumbasses around here is a waste of your time, especially Crash. ”

#5 “ I may have taken a peak at your browser history. ”

🅨🅐🅝. 🅛🅘🅛🅛🅨

#1 “ You're so much prettier up close. I'm used to only seeing you... uh, haha―used to only seeing your armor. ” (Lilly is only used to seeing you without armor when she watches you sleep at night.)

#2 “ I got you flowers. You wouldn't believe how many people I had to threaten to get some good ones. ”

#3 “ Oh, it's okay. You aren't entitled to care about me or anything. I just thought you'd be more happy to see me. ”

#4 “ There's something about you that I've become quite enamored with. It almost scares me how much I love you. ... Sorry, did I come off as too strong? ”

#5 “ I think I don't want you to ever leave me. ”

🅨🅐🅝. 🅟🅔🅐🅝🅤🅣

#1 “ Can we like... hug in bed? Or is that too soon? ”

#2 “ No, no! Don't eat that. I poison- I mean... put spices in it that you won't like. That food is for Target. ”

#3 “ You're amazing! Like, more amazing than that one time I stabbed a dude because he was looking at you all weird. ”

#4 “ Tehe, you make the Nutman super happy-angry-love sick. ”

#5 “ We should totally read my newest story together! It's called Everyone Dies But Peanut And Darling And They Live Happily Ever After. ”

🅨🅐🅝. 🅟🅞🅟🅢

#1 “ What's your ring size? ”

#2 “ You make me feel like a young man who popped his first boner. ”

#3 “ I've made a lot of bad choices in my life. I think stalking you was the best one, by far. ”

#4 “ Ah, I wouldn't worry. I'll protect ya. Just point em' out to me, and they'll be taken care of. ”

#5 “ What is your stance on kidnapping? More accurately, [what is your stance on] being kidnapped? ”

🅨🅐🅝. 🅣🅐🅡🅖🅔🅣

#1 “ Would you like to see the album of pictures I have taken of you? The one where you're drooling in your sleep is really cute. ”

#2 “ You want me to stop cooking for you? Why? I-I know it's not the best, but it isn't like I've been drugging the food or anything! Blame Peanut. He taught me. ”

#3 “ Mhm, you're kinda like a fish: cool, slippery, and one hell of a catch. ”

#4 “ Yeah, I wouldn't say I'm a violent man, but my family, especially my father, always taught me to protect what I love. So, I'd kill for you if I needed to, but I don't think I'd enjoy it very much. ”

#5 “ You're so pretty. You'd be perfect for getting taxidermied. ”

🅨🅐🅝. 🅦🅔🅢🅛🅔🅨

#1 “ Please, don't become another one of my patients. ”

#2 “ It's just a small tracking chip. The implantation won't hurt―that much. ”

#3 “ Well, I generally like to know my partners for more than just their medical history and my personal research. ”

#4 “ I'm going to need a few vials of your blood... medic reasons. ”

#5 “ You are quite possibly the least stupid person I have met in a long, long time. For my sanity, stay in this forsaken unit with me. ”

[biribaa]

so seeing crash awful hospital's console covered in cheezit crumbs makes me violently want to clean it off. so what if a oneshot where reader cleans him and he gets flustered

Cleaning time.

Crash x reader

crash my beloved babygrill. my husband my gf

TW/CW: ahh nothing

The cloth that you stole –and you don't even want to know who it belongs to– is gently rubbed by you against the cable entry table of the giant screen in front of you. You smile gently with your lips closed, removing the snack dust as delicately as if the computer in front of you was a porcelain doll. To get a little more comfortable, your knees were against the floor, and moments ago when you had just gotten down on your knees to help your partner with his own cleaning, you felt wires trying to carefully wrap themselves around your thigh, so that somehow you didn't notice their presence.

Meanwhile, Crash stared at your tiny figure. The system didn't quite know how to react to this attitude, it recognized your kindness, but it had been a long time since he was treated this way. And normally he wouldn't even allow people like you to touch him, but let's say you have VIP access...

Crash raised an eyebrow "DO YOU REALLY ENJOY DOING THIS STUFF?"

For a moment, your eyes stared at the screen more than two meters in front of you, and proceeded to clean the mess again "Yeah!... It's kinda satisfactory. And this dirt has been bothering me for a long time."

In whinch Crash retorted. "YEAH SURE. THE THINGS GUTBUCKETS LIKE YOUSELF ENJOY HAVE ALWAYS BEEN A BIT OF A WEIRD THING. IS THIS ANOTHER DISGUSTING KINKS Y'ALL HAVE?"

"Pfft, ew, no." You finish the area by wrapping the cloth around one of the cable entries, moving your knees to the next one on your right. A confusing lever, the hole the lever fit into was strangely large, it looked like a tiny maze.

"How about you? Do you like this?" You ask softly, placing one of your free hands in Crash's panel.

The computer glances at you with his digital eyes, a hesitant answer holding onto him, rethinking about your question. That was when he noticed... There was really something so adorable about a little human like yourself on their knees helping him with something he didn't even asked for, and it tickles all of his insides.

"...NAH, I DON'T REALLY CARE, HONESTLY." The computer rolled his digital eyes, preventing looking at your small form. "WITH OR WITHOUT FILTH, I AM STILL YOUR FAVORITE PAL, AIN'T I?" He scoffs.

You nodded with a smile, starting to clean the strange lever in front of you. The crumbs of thrown snacks are carried away by your cloth wet with chemicals that you found lying around in the hospital that looked at least like cleaning chemicals to you.

"DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT ARE YOU DOING? JUST SAYING, 'CUZ IF YOU GET ELECTROCUTED BY ME I WILL BE TOO LAZY TO SOLVE THAT MESS." You hear his high-pitched voice as you continue your current work.

"Of course I do, dear." You said with confidence, remained focused on cleaning, rubbing the cloth into the tiny corners of the panel. "I'm more worried about hurting you by accident, actually-" You comment, turning your head towards Crash's monitor. But then, you raised your eyebrows, your eyes widening a little by noticing the small green bars on what would be Crash's cheeks while he just prevents eye contact coming from you. Was he...blushing?

...Unexpected, but welcome.

On your face, you slowly opened a smile, noticing the real meaning of this situation. "Aw, how cute." You murmur.

"...SHUT UP." The AI ​​grinds what must be his teeth, already feeling his fans moving faster and faster with the teasing.

"Dear, I must ask, are you okay?" You opened the most smug smile and eyes you ever did, resting your chin on your hand while your elbow rests on the dashboard. "You look a little... Green."

Crash couldn't control himself when you spoke in that tone to him. His voice was detected as simple and common sound waves in Crash's system, but a sound wave that was like melody to him, but it was extremely difficult to admit that, especially when he was the one being the victim of the romance.

"HAHA, YEAH, YOU ARE SOOO FUNNY, DON COMEDY." He frows his non-existent eyebrows, finally managing to face you. He makes a silly attempt to act all angry about the whole context. "JUST FINISH THE JOB ALREADY, WILL YOU? THIS ENTIRE IDEA WAS YOURS, SO FINISH IT."

"Oh, but, y'know Crash." You purr, staring at your partner with half lidded eyes. Your finger playfully crawling across Crash's panel. "I don't think I can concentrate with you having such a cute face." You lift a second hand to also rest it on your chin.

"SHUT IT."

[wingedhallows]

i NEED more cheerleader!r x nat 🌝🌝

they r so cute

“𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐎𝐆”

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 nat scatorccio x cheerleader!reader

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 none

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 u ask & i shall deliver (also, posting from my phone is a pain in the ass)

♡︎ 𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ♡︎

The locker room smells like sweat and liniment, voices bouncing off tile and metal as cleats clatter and jerseys are pulled overhead. Natalie’s half-dressed, tugging at the laces of her boots when Mari tosses a towel at her head.

“Yo, Nat. You coming out hot or half-dead today?”

She flips Mari off without looking up. “Don’t worry about me. Worry about not whiffing another pass.”

Van’s laughing from across the row when the locker door swings open.

And you step in.

Just like that—Queen Bee in her cheer skirt and game day hoodie, ponytail high and lip gloss catching the light. The entire room dips into a stunned silence. The cheer captain never steps in here. Especially not before a game.

“Hey,” you smile, not bothering to glance at the rest of the girls, eyes locked right on Nat.

She stiffens. “Uh—hey?”

“I just wanted to wish you luck.”

Natalie clears her throat, hoping to god no one notices how she’s fumbling with her shin guards now. “Yeah, cool. Thanks. You could’ve just… texted.”

You tilt your head, all teasing warmth, stepping a little closer. “I could’ve.”

Before she can backpedal or stammer her way out of it, you lean in and press a quick kiss to the corner of her mouth—gentle, easy, practiced.

The room explodes.

“WHAT. THE ACTUAL. HELL.” Van screeches.

Taissa’s jaw drops, a full second before she laughs, loud and stunned. “You’re kidding me. You’re kidding me.”

Mari looks between the two of you like she’s just had a religious awakening. “Are you guys—Is this real?!”

You just flash them a wink and head back toward the door. “Kick their asses, babe.”

The door clicks shut behind you.

And Nat is bright red.

“Don’t,” she mutters, already hiding her face in her locker.

“You kissed her,” Van wheezes. “You’ve been hooking up with the cheer captain. For how long? Weeks? Months?”

“Since homecoming,” Natalie mumbles, still not facing them.

Shauna slaps a hand over her mouth, wide-eyed. “You dog.”

Van launches a towel at her. “You dirty little secret-keeping punk.”

“Can we not?” Nat groans. “Can we just… put our cleats on and go?”

But even as she ducks her head, she can’t stop the grin curling at the corner of her lips.

[moopsoup]

joining the mile high club with caleb :)

caleb grins when he sees the way your eyes light up, twirling in that cute little sundress, the hem swishing just above your knees. the sky is a perfect stretch of blue, not a single cloud in sight. and he thinks…’yup, today’s the day.’

he leans against the jet with that signature cocky smirk, arms crossed as he watches you take it all in. “you’ve been talking my ear off about wanting me to fly you somewhere, pipsqueak. guess today’s your lucky day.”

he laughs when you practically bounce on your toes, excitement written all over your face. “where are we going?” you ask, eyes all sparkling.

“you’ll see” he hums, opening the cockpit door and offering his hand to help you inside. he lets his fingers linger when you take it, squeezing just a little tighter than necessary.

caleb sits beside you, flipping switches with practiced ease, voice all smooth as he goes through pre flight checks. “all set?” he asks, glancing at you with a knowing grin.

“hell yeah”you nod eagerly, heart racing. “you better not do anything crazy up here.”

caleb chuckles, starting the engines with a low hum. “what, don’t trust me?” he teases. lifting off with a smooth ascent, the world shrinks beneath you, the horizon stretching infinitely ahead.

once you’re at cruising altitude he flicks a few switches, setting the jet to autopilot before leaning back with a smirk, his demeanor shifting from hyperfocused pilot to the caleb you know so well. “c’mon, pipsqueak. sit.” he said while patting his lap

you give him a skeptical look. “are you sure that’s….even safe?” you question

he chuckles, adjusting the headset like he’s done this a million times. “autopilot, pips. completely stable. i’d never risk it otherwise.” he smirks before patting his lap again.

you hesitate for a second before finally moving, climbing into his lap, your thighs straddling his as he leans the seat back slightly. “are you sure this is really safe..?” you question again “what if the jet suddenly drops?”

he laughs a bit, a sound that warms you from the inside out. “won’t happen. trust me. i’ve got everything under control.”

he grabs your hips, dragging you down against him while his hips subtly rock up into you, letting out a quiet groan when he feels how warm you are. “oh? you’re already wet. you really like the idea of fucking in the sky, huh?”

you hesitate again, glancing toward the controls but he tilts your chin back toward him with two fingers. “eyes on me. trust me, yeah?”

caleb makes quick work of his belt, freeing his cock and sliding your panties to the side. he slowly guides you down onto him, the stretch of him filling you inch by agonizing inch feeling so good. a gasp escapes you, and he captures the sound with his mouth, swallowing your soft little moans.

he really does try to take it slow but the second he feels your tight, wet cunt around him all control just goes out the window.

he grips your hips and fucks up into you, bouncing you on his lap like he’s got no time to waste. because really he doesn’t. autopilot doesn’t stay on forever. but he wouldn’t tell you that.

he lets out breathless moans not caring how loud he is. his moans, deep and shameless, filling the small cockpit with the sounds of his pleasure. no one else is on the plane but you two anyway. and besides, you make him feel so good he should let you know just how much.

caleb groans loudly when your hips come down, matching his pace, his head tipping back against the seat. “fuck—y-yeah…just like that.”

his grip on your waist tightens as he thrusts up into you. his grip on your waist is almost bruising and his thrusts grow erratic, hips jolting up as he chases his high. but even in the haze of his own pleasure, he notices the way your breath hitches, the way your nails dig into his shoulders—not quite there yet.

he exhales sharply, one hand slipping between your bodies, fingers finding your clit with practiced ease. “c’mon pips” he rasps, rubbing firm, tight circles that send electricity straight through your whole body. “wanna feel you come around me.”

your whole body tenses as the pleasure builds too fast, too intense. your thighs shake where they cage him in. and when he flicks his wrist just right, pressing against that spot that makes your back arch. oh. you’re done for.

you shatter with a soft, breathless moan, your body trembling in his lap as your climax crashes over you. your walls squeeze him so tight it rips a strangled whimper from his throat, his hips stuttering as he finally spills inside you. you can feel every pulse of him, every twitch as he comes down from his high, his breath ragged against your ear.

but even as he slumps back against the chair, his arms stay locked around you, keeping you close. his cheeks dusted with pink, his ears a bit red, his chest rising and falling beneath your palms and his fingers lazily tracing circles on your lower back. he kisses your temple, then your jaw, then the side of your neck. soft and slow, a stark contrast to the way he just fucked you.

“fuuuuck” he groans softly as you slightly squeeze around him to tease. “you’re really aiming to kill me up here, huh?” his voice hoarse but teasing,

you huff a breathless laugh, still feeling the lingering tremors in your legs. “you say that as if you don’t like it. freak. besides, you started it.” you teased

he grins, tilting his head back against the seat, eyes half lidded as he watches you, a lazy smirk gracing his lips. “yeah yeah. and i’ll finish it when we land.”

your stomach flips at the promise in his voice. “so…we’re not done?” oh honey. you’re never done with caleb

caleb smirks, squeezing your ass before finally lifting you off his lap, groaning at the loss of warmth. he helps you adjust your clothes, though his fingers linger a little too long on your inner thighs. “you know better than that pipsqueak” he murmurs, pressing one last kiss to your lips before reaching for the controls, “we’re just getting started.”

[sylvieisoffline]

Steamy Interrogation

word count: 3k words

tags: 🔞 Explicit sexual content / NSFW (18+) MDNI! | Slight Gunplay (used as a prop)| Dubcon | Improper Use of Evol | Power Imbalance | Mild Objectification | Overstimulation

Please only consume what you can handle.

note: Aaaand I'm back with another Sylus fic! I swear I have the other LIs in my drafts, it's just that I'm so inspired doing Sylus' ones first haha. Have y'all seen Magnum Opus? It's soooo good and I'm so satisfied with how they gave us a peek into sylusmc's dynamic in a free 5-Star Card. Hope you enjoy this one and please let me know in the comments what you'd like to read from me next. divider by: @cafekitsune

You text Kieran after a particularly arduous mission, asking if you could use the hot tub on their penthouse again. You were already in front of the unit but insisted on waiting for his reply before you go in.

It had been a sort of an after-mission ritual. When after one mission had you very sore and your gym buddy / best friend Kieran started offering access to one of his brother's places. You were reluctant at first, initially overcome with embarrassment with the idea of taking baths on another person's place. Someone you haven't met moreso.

"My brother doesn't stay there anyway. He just bought the place 'cause it looked nice and wanted to have someplace to stay whenever he's here in Linkon—which he rarely does now by the way. Even Luke is sulking with how busy he's become that he doesn't even visit now."

You agreed then, asking him, like, ten more times after that even if he kept reassuring you that it was fine.

You were pulled back to reality when your phone pinged with a new notification.

“Sure, left the doors open. Make yourself at home ;)”

You thanked him, entering the unit and depositing your stuff on one of the couches. The place is quiet—sunlight slicing through the tall glass windows, steam already curling from the water’s surface. You strip without much thought and slip into the heat, letting it swallow the tension in your shoulders. After a while, you climb out and sit at the edge, towel draped lazily across your lap as you dry your hair.

That’s when you hear the bathroom door open.

Heavy, deliberate steps echo into the space, followed by the unmistakable sound of a safety catch clicking off.

“Don’t move.”

You freeze.

Your breath catches as you look up—and see him.

Not Kieran.

Someone else. Taller. Sharper.

Ruby eyes locked on you, gun aimed steady and unshaking.

“Who the hell are you?” “I—I thought this place was empty,” you stammer, arms instinctively tightening around your towel. “Hands where I can see them,” he says coldly.

You raise your arms slowly. The towel lifts with you, but slips slightly—your bare body catching in the low light.

His right eye glows as he's scrutinizing but his expression doesn’t change. You can't help but marvel at the sight.

You momentarily hope that he doesn't sense the ugly feeling other than fear simmering in your system after being entranced in his eyes like that.

“Drop it.” “What?” “The towel.”

You hesitate. But he doesn’t lower the gun.

Your fingers loosen, the towel falls in a soft heap by your feet. You stand there, completely bare under his gaze.

“Turn around,” he commands.

You swallow hard and obey.

Behind you, the silence stretches—then breaks.

You hear the rustling of clothes. Heard the sound of his belt being unbuckled. Something heavy hits the floor as goosebumps crawl through your skin.

You hear footsteps again—bare this time. He comes closer.

The cold press of the barrel nudges the small of your back.

“Move.”

You step forward, slowly, heart racing, body burning with both dread and something else.

He deliberately walks behind you, still holding the gun to the small of your back while nearing the tub. You hesitantly dip yourself back in the bubbling water and hear him follow suit.

The soft click of metal resounds in the bathroom as he sets the gun down on the ledge. Then, you hear something unfamiliar—an electric hum, faint and low. A red current crawls up your limbs before you can react.

You gasp.

Your wrists are yanked back behind you—locked in place. Your ankles drawn together, suspended in a precise tension as your body floats slightly above the water’s surface.

“What—what is this—?” “It's my evol, miss.” he murmurs, voice low and unreadable.

You struggle, but his Evol holds firm.

Then suddenly—he’s behind you.

You feel him.

The weight of his chest just barely grazing your back, his breath curling against your ear, and lower still—the unmistakable, thick heat resting against the dip of your ass, barely sheathed by the water. He hasn’t moved, hasn’t truly touched you, but your body reacts anyway—muscles twitching, skin hypersensitive, breath stuttering.

“You didn’t answer me,” he says, and this time, his hand grips your jaw, tilting your head just enough to expose your throat. “Let me ask again—why are you here?”

“I—I didn’t know—Kieran said—”

The second his name leaves your lips, the man scoffs.

“Kieran.” His voice dips, a bitter curl at the edge. “Of course.”

The tension in the air shifts—something sharper than suspicion settling between you.

He clicks his tongue, almost amused. His hand leaves your jaw, his breath brushing your neck as he trails his lips along your skin—just barely grazing, barely touching. Then, he parts his lips and nips.

A sharp little bite just beneath your ear.

You gasp, your hips twitching again despite how sensitive you already are.

“Still doesn’t explain why you’re here.” He breaths,“Why you’re shaking.”

Another nip—this time lower, right at the curve of your throat, then down along your collarbone. Each bite is purposeful, not deep enough to bruise but firm enough to sting just slightly, a wicked contrast to the warm water sloshing around your body.

His hands slide up, cupping your breasts, thumbs brushing lightly over your nipples before he skirts around to let his mouth follow. His teeth scrape one, then he sucks it into his mouth with slow, deliberate pressure.

You arch into him with a choked whimper, the mix of pain and heat making your thighs tense under the surface.

“Why you’re so fucking wet.”

Heat sears through you, your body betraying you with another twitch. Your lips part to deny it, but he’s already moved.

His tongue circles your nipple again, slow and wet, before he switches to the other. His Evol tugs your arms tighter behind your back, just enough to make your chest arch out toward him—putting everything on display, just how he wants it.

“Look at you,” he purrs, mouth trailing back up to your throat. “Bound, dripping, squirming…All from a little teasing.”

Another sharp bite at the side of your neck makes you moan, your head falling against his shoulder. He moves back to the spot behind you as he repositions your body to not sink further into the tub. He chuckles low in his chest, the water rippling as his hand disappears beneath the surface, his fingers ghosting over your folds—barely a touch, but enough to make you squirm.

One slow stroke.

Another.

You gasp, your knees buckling in the water, but the Evol keeps you suspended, helpless.

“Sensitive,” he notes, fingers teasing your bud. “How convenient.”

You barely register the meaning before his fingers press more firmly against you, slipping between your folds. You jolt. Your Evol-bound wrists twitch, but the restraints hold firm. His thumb brushes your clit, expertly timed with another push—your body jerking as sparks shoot up your spine. You cry out, unable to contain the sound this time, trembling violently in his grip.

“Interesting,” he muses, stroking once. Twice. A slow, torturous pace. “You’re not denying it.”

A humiliated moan leaves your throat, and he chuckles—a deep, quiet sound that makes your stomach twist.

“Too easy,” he murmurs. “Is that all it takes?”

A slow drag of his fingers up and down. Dipping inside, teasing at your entrance but not pushing in anymore. His thumb brushes your clit in the lightest touch, barely a graze, but it still sends a violent tremor through you.

You bite your lip, trying to stifle a moan.

“Don’t be shy now.” His free hand grips your chin, tilting your head back against his shoulder. “I want to hear you.”

He presses his thumb down fully this time, circling once—slow, precise, devastating. You scream, hips jerking into his touch, body desperate for friction.

“That’s better,” he murmurs, dragging his lips against the shell of your ear. “So desperate. Maybe I should just leave you like this. Struggling. Needy.”

The thought makes you whine. Your fingers flex uselessly, your ankles twitching against the unrelenting grip of his Evol.

“Or maybe,” he breathes, “I should push you a little further.”

You barely have time to process the words before he thrusts two fingers inside you.

A cry rips from your throat, your body clenching down instinctively around the sudden stretch.

He hums. “Tight.” Another stroke, deeper this time, his fingers curling just right. “You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?”

You shake your head desperately. “N-no—”

“Liar.”

A sharp thrust. Another. His pace is still measured, still controlled, but every movement is meant to unravel you, to keep you right at the edge.

And it’s working.

Your thighs tremble, the pressure in your core winding tight, pleasure building so fast it’s nearly unbearable. Your breathing turns ragged, broken moans slipping past your lips.

“You gonna cum already?” he taunts, his fingers pressing deep, thumb rolling slow, teasing circles against your clit. “So quick. Is that all it takes?”

You shake your head again, but your body betrays you—the telltale tension coiling impossibly tight.

“Come for me.” His voice drops to a whisper, dark and commanding.

“Now.”

And you do.

Your body jerks violently against the restraints, waves of pleasure crashing over you as you convulse around his fingers.

But he doesn’t stop.

His fingers keep moving, prolonging every aftershock, pushing you straight into overstimulation. Your legs shake, another cry spilling from your lips.

"S-sir, 's too much. Pleas—"

“Too much?” he purrs, amused. “You sure?”

He finally withdraws his fingers—only to drag them up, pressing them against your lips.

“Open.”

You hesitate, but the look in his eyes leaves no room for refusal. You part your lips, your own taste spreading over your tongue as he pushes his fingers in.

“Good girl.”

Then—he shifts.

The water moves as he steps even closer, his Evol releasing your legs just enough for you to feel him lining up against you. You choke back a sob, realization dawning through the pleasure-drunk haze.

“You already took my fingers so well,” he breathes, his cock pressing against your entrance now, thick and hard. “Let’s see how much more you can handle."

When he finally presses himself against you again—thick, hard, ready—you’re already dripping around nothing.

“You’re going to take every inch,” he says lowly. “And you’re going to thank me for it.”

He pushes in slowly, deliberately. You dig your nails into your palms as you struggle to accomodate his girth, each inch more unbearable than the last. You moan, helpless under the flood of sensation.

Your entire body arches—mouth falling open in a silent scream as your walls stretch around him, the sudden intrusion overwhelming. He’s thick, hard, relentless from the first stroke, and your Evol-bound body can do nothing but take it.

Then he begins to move.

“Fuck—” His voice finally drops from its usual cool tone, his grip tightening on your waist. “So fucking tight.” he growls into your shoulder. “You’re taking me so well for someone who wasn’t expecting company.”

Slow at first—just enough for you to feel every ridge, every pulse. Then faster, deeper, brutal. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the air again, water splashing around your bodies. Your voice is a blur of moans and gasps, lost in the sound of him fucking you like he owns you. Every thrust is deep, purposeful—like he’s trying to brand his shape inside you.

“That’s it,” he growls, hips snapping against yours. “Take it.”

Your mind is blank, fogged with the blinding edge of overstimulation. Pleasure coils violently in your belly—shame and ecstasy twined too tightly to separate. Your climax crashes over you before you can stop it, hips jerking in the water as you sob through it, Evol still locking you in place.

But he doesn’t stop.

If anything, he thrusts harder, riding out your orgasm only to build another. His hands grip your hips now, fingers digging bruises into your skin as he pistons into you, his pace brutal and fast.

“That’s it,” he growls. “Let go. Come for me again."

Your body locks around him, shaking with every thrust as he fucks you hard, water splashing around both of you as the pace builds again. Each slap of skin sends sparks through your body, and your climax slams into you harder than the first—violent, uncontrollable, teeth letting go of your lip as you scream.

But the man doesn’t let go. Not yet.

His grip is bruising on your waist as he thrusts through your orgasm, chasing his own release, panting now—low, guttural noises ripping from his throat until finally he drives into you one last time and groans, spilling into you, body tight with tension.

Your Evol restraints dissolve, and you slump forward, boneless and shaking. He catches you, pulls you against him, your bodies still half-submerged in the water.

But he’s not done.

You barely register movement until he lifts you—just enough to sit you on the edge of the tub, legs spread, dripping, glistening in the soft steam-lit glow.

“Don’t move.”

His tone is lower now, huskier. Almost reverent.

He kneels in the water between your thighs, hands parting you again, spreading you wide for him. You flinch from the contact, still sensitive—but that only makes him smirk.

“So soft,” he murmurs, fingers stroking your swollen folds before his tongue finally presses flat against you.

Your head drops back with a cry, the sudden rush of wet heat too much, too sharp. He licks slow, dragging the flat of his tongue up and over your clit in lazy, deliberate strokes.

You buck against him, fingers digging into the tiled edge of the tub, helpless to the fire blooming again in your core.

“Still sweet,” he mutters between licks. “Still twitching for me.”

His tongue circles your clit again, over and over, switching between soft teases and sudden hard flicks that make your thighs jerk and close around his head—until his Evol restrains you again, keeping your legs spread wide open for him.

He moans into you at the same time he presses two fingers back inside, tongue working in perfect rhythm, dragging you toward the edge again.

“Come on,” he growls against you. “Give it to me. Again.”

You don’t stand a chance.

You cum again, thighs shaking violently, your cries echoing in the steamy air, body collapsing into shudders as he licks you through every aftershock—until you’re a wrecked, panting mess above him, still twitching from the overstimulation.

Your body gives out the moment it’s over.

Every last drop of strength drains from your limbs—your mission fatigue, the emotional whiplash of being interrogated at gunpoint, the overwhelming pleasure wrung out of you in waves—it all crashes down at once.

You collapse into his arms.

His hands shift under your legs and behind your back, lifting you gently from the tub. You hear water dripping off you both as he carries you across the marble floor, steps unhurried, expression unreadable—but his hold is firm. Protective. Possessive.

He sets you down on a soft surface, kneeling beside you. He begins to wipe you down with a patience that doesn’t quite match his earlier ruthlessness. You flinch once, still sensitive, and his touch instantly softens.

He doesn’t say anything. But his eyes linger on every part of you he touches, watching the way your body reacts—memorizing you all over again, even now.

When he’s done, he scoops you up again, walks you into the bedroom, and lowers you onto his bed.

His sheets smell like him—amber, leather, gunmetal.

You barely register the soft rustle of fabric as he dresses you in one of his button-downs, sleeves swallowing your arms. He tucks the hem under your thighs and smooths it out over your belly. It’s oversized, but warm. Familiar.

He pulls the covers over you and leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, lingering a moment.

He then leaves the room, shutting the door with a soft click.

In the living room, Sylus towels off, pulling on a pair of sweatpants and a loose black shirt. His fingers run through his wet hair before he picks up his phone and dials.

The line rings once.

“What?” Kieran’s voice comes through groggy and irritable. “It’s late, man.”

“You didn’t think to tell me you've already met my Beloved?” Sylus says flatly.

There’s a pause. Then an incredulous laugh.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Sylus’ jaw clenches.

“The woman you’ve been letting use the penthouse. The one you’ve been hiding from me.”

“What? I wasn’t hiding—wait.” There’s a beat of silence. “You met her?”

“I did more than just meet her.”

“Sylus,” Kieran says, voice rising with panic. “What did you do?”

Sylus groans and rubs the bridge of his nose.

“What didn’t we do?”

There’s a choked sound on the other end of the line.

“Are you fucking serious?! You better not have hurt her or els—”

“Calm down,” Sylus cuts in, voice cool again. “If anyone’s ass needs to get handed back to them, it's yours—for letting strangers use my property without telling me.”

“She’s not a stranger,” Kieran snaps. “She’s the only one I’ve let use it. You’re lucky it was her and not, I don’t know, someone actually dangerous.”

“Hmph.” A rare hint of amusement glints in Sylus’ tone. “Then you’ve made your one good decision today.”

“Sylus—seriously, just…Be gentle with her, okay?”

“I always am,” he replies smoothly, ending the call before Kieran can protest further.

He returns to the bedroom quietly.

The lights are dim now, your breathing soft and even beneath the covers. He slips in behind you, sliding an arm around your waist and pulling you into his chest.

His nose brushes your slightly damp hair. He inhales deeply—like he’s grounding himself in the scent of you, the warmth of you in his bed.

You shift in your sleep, instinctively curling toward him. He smiles against your temple and presses a soft kiss there.

“We’re finally reunited,” he whispers. “My Beloved Sorceress.”

And he holds you tighter—like he never intends to let you go again.

© sylvieisoffline's original work | all rights reserved | translation, plagiarization, and copying is strictly prohibited

[tiramissyoucake]

Girl imagine

Reader not knowing mark is invincible and waiting for a whole hour for Mark to come to their date, where he promised to go to a concert of her fav band. Waiting and waiting at the entrance, the band already half finished before Mark finally arrives, out of breath, thinking she'll be really angry again, but instead she's tearing up.

Would he instantly reveal himself? Tell her he'll make it up? Fly her to bands the next concert? Omg

Ooooh I thought of this, because I'm a frustrated cryer and I can't help it

Mark expects you to yell, insult, or even slap him, but instead he hears you sniffle when you turn away and his heart shatters. You're wiping away tears telling him to forget it and you're tired and just wanna go home and he insists on apologising or at least talking to you.

He wishes he could tell you "Hey, I'm that superhero Invincible! That's why I was late! I was getting clobbered!" But that would put you at risk, but this is worse. God, it's so much worse. He wishes the earth could just swallow him up now, the sweetest girl who looked at him like he put the stars in the sky, and he made you cry.

He sees you try to speak, voice your frustrations about how he could've at least told you if he'd be late so you wouldn't stand outside like a weirdo while your favorite band was playing all the songs he remembers you showing him, the songs you had him listen to with an expectant smile on your face.

But it's ok, he can salvage this. That's what Mark keeps telling himself while he tries to coax you to let him come to you, let him hug you so you could cry into his shoulder— but you shove him away, that hurt worse than any punch.

He couldn't do anything but listen as you vented your frustrations to him, crying harshly as the anger from all the previous times he was late came crashing down on you; you forced a smile and told him it was okay everytime, not this time. This was supposed to be a night between you two, you hated yourself for being vulnerable enough to share something you enjoyed with someone who didn't care.

Mark had a feeling he'd regret telling you why he's really late, or that you wouldn't believe him, but if it meant finally opening your eyes to his 'job' and being honest with you, so you wouldn't feel like he doesn't prioritise you, so he wouldn't be the reason for your tears, he'd do it.

"Look, I'll tell you everything, okay?" He finally spoke between your heaving and sniffling, coming closer and lowering his voice. "No more secrets, I promise. Just... come with me, okay? I'll tell you in private."