#finally making a like. full musical playlist with Everything on it

[callixton]

my core problem is that dilf will be The Ultimate Marvin for the rest of my life like he was soo good...... idgaf abt christian borle i want his version of the cast album soo badd

[fastandcarlos]

Missing Piece : ̗̀➛ Oscar Piastri

summary: you’re supposed to be used to oscar going anyway by now, but no matter how hard you try, it still hurts just as much

“As soon as I land, I promise I’ll give you a call, make sure that you don’t have too much fun without me.”

Your head nodded as you buried it into the crook of Oscar’s neck, refusing to let him see you, scared of what would happen.

He smiles down at you, kissing against the top of your head.

Like you, he’s trying his best to hold it together, reassuring himself that it’s only a couple of weeks and that the two of you have spent longer apart before. You could still text, still call, but it was never quite the same. Oscar knew you masked a lot, you tried not to be bothered when it was time for him to go, but deep down he knew every time stung just a little bit more than the last.

A final kiss was pressed to the side of your head as Oscar unwrapped his arms from around you, taking a hold of his suitcase as your eyes fell to the ground.

Your voice was almost silent as you said goodbye to Oscar, unable to bring yourself to watch as he closed the door of your apartment. On the other side, he sighs, knowing that the silence is how it needs to be in order for you to survive.

Straight away the silence in your apartment makes you tense up, struggling to picture yourself getting back to life with Oscar by your side. Once you were sure his car had had enough time to drive away, you finally let yourself fall. First one tear fell, quickly followed by another, and then another, until you were laid out on your sofa relentless wiping underneath your eyes. The scent of Oscar’s jumper that you wore only made things worse, he was almost there with you, to comfort you, but not quite.

Several shaky breaths came from you as you looked around the place, little reminders of Oscar placed around the rooms as he had all but moved himself into your place.

The kitchen was still full of his favourite snacks, the music playing in the background was still his playlist that he had been so excited to show you, many items of his clothing were hung on your radiators, unable to dry them in the blistery winter breeze.

Each sight makes you weaker and weaker, makes your heart ache more, silently crying out for Oscar to return to you and end your nightmare.

Every time Oscar went away it was the same old story, you tried to convince yourself that this time would be the time when you’d crack on, prove to yourself that you didn’t need Oscar to survive, but each time you failed. Maybe you’d last a day or two at most, but then you’d encounter a job or a sign of him that would send you spiralling back to the beginning again.

You found yourself alone again, on the other side of the world to the true place that you called home.

Oscar hated himself for being the reason you left behind everything, as much as you tried to convince him that you loved Monaco, he knew you wanted more. Times like these, when he left you all alone, more than anything you wanted the comfort of your family with you to scoop you up and keep you going.

Whenever the two of you spoke about it you reassured Oscar that he was worth it, that you were willing to make the sacrifice in order to make your dreams together succeed. But a small part of you had also hoped that it would all get easier, and it was anything but.

Admittedly, you were lost without Oscar, he’d been gone two minutes and already you found yourself a crumpled mess in your living room, wondering if you were going to survive.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Meanwhile, driving down to the airport, Oscar isn’t sitting pretty either. He’s restless, going through his list in his head once again, sensing that something isn’t quite the way it’s meant to be. Beside him Lando watches him closely, wondering what’s got into him as Oscar frantically searches through his rucksack to find what he’s looking for.

“It’s got to be in here somewhere,” he whispers to himself, searching through every single pocket. “I knew I should’ve put it in a safer place,” he continued to scold, getting more and more stressed.

Lando kept his eyes on him, “what on earth has gotten into you? Surely it can’t be that important, whatever it is.”

Oscar shot a glare across at Lando.

It was more important than anyone could ever imagine, and he refused to go any further until he had it in his hands.

“What are you going to do?” Lando asked after Oscar asked for the driver to stop the car and let him think for a moment.

Oscar glanced back across at his friend, shrugging his shoulders at the fact that they were already running late for their flight.

“I’ve got no choice, I need to go home again.”

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

It had only been a few minutes, but already Oscar had missed you, already Oscar was excited to be reunited with you again. He sent his apologies to everyone before entering your apartment block, racing up the stairs.

He was bouncing on his heels, as if the two of you were going to see each other after weeks apart as he pulled out his key. He fumbled slightly as he placed the key into the lock, turning it sharply and bursting into the room.

Oscar shot into the room, glancing everywhere to catch a glimpse of you, only when he did, his heart sunk. The key dropped to the floor, expression shattering, words failing him. You were too wrapped up in yourself to even notice that Oscar had returned, your sobs being the only noise in the room.

Whilst silently, the guilt of it all ate away at Oscar.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

“I can’t wait to tell you all about it.”

“I can’t wait to hear all about it,” you responded, smiling widely as Oscar told you about the fight that had happened during the McLaren team dinner that night, only wishing that you’d been there to see it.

“Luckily me and Lando managed to sneak out before we got caught in the crossfire,” he assured you, giggling away to himself. “It’s going to be so awkward at the team briefing tomorrow morning.”

As Oscar spoke, you were slightly thankful you weren’t there and a part of it.

It had been a couple of days since Oscar left, and after the scene that unfolded that he left, he promised to call you every free second of the day that he had, refusing to leave you alone with your own thoughts for too long.

“I bet things are a lot busier here than they are at home,” Oscar smirked, almost envious of the calm environment you found yourself in.

His eyes lit up, enough to bring a smile to your face too.

“Your mum has been ringing me nonstop, I don’t know what you’ve said to her.”

“Not a lot,” he chuckled, lying through his teeth, “I just mentioned things were a little bit tricky for you.”

“A little bit?” You challenged, raising your eyebrow at Oscar. “I think your mum thinks I’m on the verge of a breakdown, you know she’s forcing me to send her a photo every time I have something to eat.”

“Good,” Oscar responded, failing to see the problem with what you were saying. “No one’s there to check up on you love, at least if mum is keeping an eye on you then I know too that you’re taking good care of yourself.”

You gasped, hand over heart, offended that Oscar had taken his mum’s side rather than your own. He knew you were only messing as he mocked your reaction, stunned that you didn’t see how caring his mum was being.

“If it helps, would you like me to send you photos of my food too?” Oscar offered, continuing to tease you. “I know you love race day food.”

Your eyes narrowed at him, you didn’t just love race day food, it was your obsession. Secretly, it was the only reason you actually went and supported Oscar.

“I’ll block you,” you warned, “and then no one will be able to check up on me, I’ll just live in my own little bubble of peace and quiet in the apartment.”

Oscar’s head shook as he took a sip from the drink beside him, glancing on the clock at his bedside that was getting later and later. You knew that Oscar wasn’t brave enough to tell you what he was thinking, but you knew his expression well enough by now to know that he was starting to get sleepy and needed to rest for work tomorrow.

As he looked at the screen again, Oscar knew that you knew exactly what he was hinting at too.

“I’m sorry.”

Your head shook, refusing to listen to him. “Don’t be stupid, you’ve got work, it’s important that you’re ready for tomorrow.”

“I promise that I’ll speak to you in the morning,” Oscar insisted, shuffling around on the bed so that he was laid down, phone above his head. “I’ll keep you updated as much as I can with how tomorrow goes.”

He did a good job of keeping you in the loop, tried his best to share as many updates as he possibly could with you. It wasn’t always easy, and at times Oscar had to be very sneaky, but it would be worth it to get your reply and know just how proud of him you were.

“You’ll sleep soon too, won’t you?” Oscar quizzed, doing the math in his head to know that it wasn’t far off getting late for you either.

“I will now that I’ve spoken to you,” you hummed, happy to let Oscar go for the night, and happy to know that you’d been sleeping much more comfortably too.

“I love you, wish me luck for tomorrow.”

“You don’t need luck Oscar…I love you.”

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

He’s barely able to sit still as Oscar listens to yet another gate call, hoping this time it’s for him, but not quite. His frustration builds and builds, restlessly fidgeting whilst Lando sits beside him as if he’s got all the time in the world.

Knowing how close you were only hurt Oscar more now. He was desperate to be back where he belonged, back with his best friend and back in the place that he called home. He’d been away from the missing piece in his life for too long, and now he was ready to fix the jigsaw that was his life again.

The journey felt like an age, every slight stop tormented Oscar, knowing it was pushing the time of his arrival further and further back.

What hurt him the most though was the lies, the ignorance he had for you. When he landed and turned his phone back on he was met by dozens of calls and texts, most of them full of panic. He hated that he couldn’t tell you the truth, but his mum had assured him that she would try and keep you as calm as possible.

The car barely had time to stop when it pulled up outside your home, Oscar was out like a bullet, grabbing his belongings and racing up the stairs. Standing outside your door, he composed himself, taking a deep breath in and out before knocking on the door, hoping that you were home.

You weren’t expecting anyone, lazily moving across to the door. A sigh came from you as you took the latch off, pulling down on the handle and opening the door, slowly turning your eyes up.

Oscar’s smile was bright as your eyes met, a chuckle came from him, relieved to see you and see for himself that you were alright. It took you a moment to realise who was before you, but as soon as you did, you were stepping forwards, throwing yourself into Oscar’s arms and legs wrapping around his frame.

He barely had a moment to react, Oscar dropping his case and catching you just as quickly.

There were no words spoken for a while as you both let the reality set in. Your head was buried closely into the crook of Oscar’s neck, this time trying to compose yourself for a different reason. Your tears were no longer of sadness, but of overwhelming joy to have Oscar home.

“You’re not supposed to be here yet,” you laughed, pulling back and meeting Oscar’s eyes once again. “Y-you’re here early,” you commented, pressing a kiss against the tip of his nose.

Oscar nodded proudly, “we were finished and I couldn’t wait any longer, I just wanted to get back and be with you again. I’ve missed you so much, it’s been so hard being away from you this time.”

The grip that you had on Oscar was bone-crushing, filled with happiness knowing that you weren’t going to be by yourself anymore. It didn’t matter anymore where you were in the world anymore, just the fact that Oscar was back with you again was enough to make everything alright.

“How come you changed your mind? How did you convince Zac to let you come home?” You quizzed, feeling Oscar carry you across and down onto the sofa.

“I had my ways,” Oscar proudly joked, “I’m kidding, we had everything sorted so I could fly earlier. Told him that I couldn’t wait to get home any longer to my missing piece and he sent me on my way.”

You’re missing piece?”

Oscar nodded in reply to you, “of course, the one thing that was missing to make me my happiest. I had work, I was in my race car, but you weren’t there, so everything wasn’t quite fulfilled.”

“That’s cute,” you whispered.

And Oscar meant every word of it too, it was no understatement how important you were to him, and knowing that you’d been having such a tricky time of things recently only left him feeling worse whenever he had to go away.

“Please tell me you don’t have to leave now, or any time soon,” you whispered to Oscar, terrified that your moment was going to be cut short and he was going to be pulled off into another direction to complete yet another task.

“I’m all yours, I promise, I don’t plan on going anywhere for a very long time my love.”

“Good,” you smirked, cupping either side of Oscar’s face and pressing a kiss to his lips. You’d experienced the hurt, the longing, the bitterness and jealousy, but at last you were able to experience the happiness again, the relief that Oscar was back with you and he was right there to be able to take care of you.

And luckily for you, it was a job that he absolutely adored too.”

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[cordeliawhohung]

In Limbo [Chapter 5]

mafia!141 masterlist | In Limbo masterlist | general masterlist | taglist | playlist

mafia!Simon Riley x fem!Reader

at least he's not doing this for you

cw: panic/anxiety attacks, minor wound description, minor angst, minor fluff, hurt/comfort if you squint

wc: 4.3k

Your ears are ringing again. 

It’s torturous. Never-ending. Forever plaguing you the moment things should be quiet. A painful reminder that you survived, and continue to do so despite the fact you’ve never once deserved it. 

A cotton-like dryness torments your mouth by the time you finally come to. Everything slowly fades in, bringing you back to the present time, and it hits you all at once. Before you can even open your eyes, you have to unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth just so you can let out a confused, gargled groan. Nothing comes easy after that. Your surroundings feel too bright even in the dim lighting that illuminates an unfamiliar red and black room, and lead heavy arms struggle to push your torso off of the soft, leather cushions underneath you. 

The room you’re in is unrecognizable, but if you had to take a guess, you’re probably still at John’s club. Yet, there is no faint hum of music, or overwhelming chatter and sour alcohol to fill the air. It’s a confusing predicament, one that has your mind spinning, yet you try your best to shake it off as you turn your attention to your own condition.

Despite the mental fog that ravages your mind, you feel surprisingly fine physically. There’s no pounding headache, or churning sensation of nausea; the only thing that bothers you is a throbbing sensation in both of your hands. Once you’re able to get your eyes to focus, you realize they’ve been tenderly wrapped in white gauze. Tiny, faint patches of blood have bled through it, just to dry down a rusty brown.

It’s then that you are finally able to make sense of the ache that weighs in your chest. You recall Andrei, how you were unfortunate enough to run into him after making a wrong turn, his warning — always warning you — and how Simon found you. You tenderly rub at your raw eyes, taking care to avoid messing with the gauze too much, and you try your best to keep the frustrated sorrow stewing in your stomach at bay. 

All you want to do is pay off a debt, yet you keep accruing new ones. 

“Mornin’ sweetheart.” 

Flinching at the voice behind you, you cover your mouth with a squeak as you twist your body on the sofa. Simon towers uncannily tall behind you with a poorly made club sandwich in one hand, and a glass of ice water in the other. It’s only then that you realize you’re in a conversation pit — a sunken couch nestled in the center of the floor. He steps into the pit with ease where he settles a comfortable distance away from you on the couch before holding the glass for you to take. 

“Didn’t mean to spook you,” he apologizes. 

“It’s fine,” you quickly dismiss. 

You reach your hand out to take the glass, only to realize you can hardly grip it with the gauze. Its pristine, smooth surface just slips right along the cotton, so you grab it with both hands like it’s a warm mug. Once it’s free from his hands, Simon dives right in for a bite of his sandwich before leaning back against the couch. 

“How’re you feelin?” he asks, mouth half full. 

“Fine,” you reply with the glass pressed against your lips. It’s cold liquid washes over your dry tongue, reviving it like a desert turned to mud. Your eyes flicker around the room, taking in the sight. It’s the fanciest place you’ve ever been in, with mood lighting and rich, marble floors. “Where are we?” 

Before Simon can answer you, he dives in for another quick bite of his sandwich. He’s hardly sat down to eat the damn thing and it’s already nearly half devoured. You think back to the food you brought him from work — that delicious capellini pomodoro — and how it’s nothing but a pile of goo in the alleyway outside of the building. Poor man is probably starving, and you feel a pang in your chest at that thought. 

“One of the rooms Price saves for private occasions,” Simon explains as he wipes his mouth on the back side of his hand. “You were a little out of it after everything went down. Hardly responsive. Took you here to help you calm down. Pretty much passed out the moment you sat on the sofa.” 

Heat rises in your face, and you’re unsure if it’s in embarrassment or shame. You’ve never really been a fan of being vulnerable around others, and the idea of Simon having to lead you around the club like a zombie puts you on edge. Though, you’ve learned that oftentimes, vulnerability isn’t a choice. Not one that you get to make, anyway. 

“Tried to clean up your hands as best I could,” Simon continues. You look down at your palms and flex your fingers, testing the range of motion. The sting is dull, but still there buried deep underneath your skin. “I’m no doctor, but it should keep you together for now.” 

“Thank you,” you whisper before pausing. “How… how did you find me?”

“Boys up front messaged, sayin’ you were on your way,” he explains nonchalantly. “Took you longer than it should’ve to find me. Got worried, so went out lookin’ for ya. When I heard people talking in the alley, I figured you’d gotten yourself lost. I was right.” 

When you look away from your hands, you find Simon is staring at you. His dark eyes are endless voids in the dim light of the room, and you watch the way his jaw flexes and relaxes as he chews and swallows his meal. 

“That cunt in the alley. You know ‘im?” Simon then asks. 

Wounded hands reach for your chest as if you’re able to console the rabid pounding of your heart with touch alone. You recall Andrei’s eyes, and the bored expression of his tone. He speaks so softly, with warning soaking his words, but you know he has one of the worst bites. A bite you don’t want Simon to feel because of you.

“No,” you lie. 

Simon stares at you for a little longer, eyes scouring your face for any hint that you might be hiding something. He reads through your features like he’s done it a million times before; not just to you, but to everyone. Constantly searching; forever vigilant. You don’t feel like you can breathe until he hums and looks back at his food. There’s some comfort to be found in the fact that you know he has nothing to compare your truths and lies to — you’re burdened with always having to hide something that you don’t think you’ve ever been able to tell the truth before. 

“Shady stuff happens ‘round here more often than I’d like,” Simon says, continuing the conversation. “Probably another low-lifer. See ‘em here sometimes. Alcohol, drugs, and crowds breeds deviants. Probably gets a good kick outta intimidating women.” 

“Good thing they’ve got good security here,” you quip. It’s smarter than what you’d usually say — you blame it on the anxiety. 

Dark eyes land on you once more with a smirk. “Cheers.” 

He finishes the last bite of his sandwich before sinking back into the leather couch with a sigh. Despite how put together he comes across, there’s obvious bits of fatigue eating away at him. Heavy weights pull at his eyes making them more hooded than normal. Usually, you try not to stare too long, but there’s something wrong with him that your hazy eyes and anxiety riddled brain wasn’t able to notice before. 

Even with his scuffle with Andrei, his hands are in remarkably good shape. No split knuckles or irritated skin. If there’s any wounds from the knife that was drawn on him, you’re not able to see anything. Either he sustained none, or he patched them up before you woke up. But there’s something off about his face. Asymmetrical. A gentle swelling of his left eye hidden beneath an old, long healed scar. It’s difficult to tell in the dim lighting of the room, but you think there might be a small bruise seeping into the paleness of his face. 

“Simon, your eye,” you point out.

“Don’t worry about it,” he assures you. “Already iced it. I’ve been hit harder than that before.” 

Guilt rips through you like a bullet as you realize the gravity of the situation. This wasn’t just some simple run in with a bum on the street — this was Andrei. This is a deep mess that you’ve already been stuck in for years, and most certainly just got Simon roped into as well. You’re already brainstorming excuses and ways to beg Marco and Andrei to understand that this wasn’t Simon’s fault, but yours. But it’s too late. You can already smell is cologne and feel his hand on your jaw; back pressed against the wall; breath on your face; blood on the ground- 

“Hey, stay with me.” 

A warm hand braves the clamminess of your fingers as your cup is removed from your gasp, and you blink away the panic, trying to focus on Simon. It’s an embarrassing habit of yours — this terror. Some days, when you’re not smart enough to keep yourself distracted, it grips you so terribly you can do nothing but freeze. Let the world weigh you down. Sleep away the feeling until you wake up with little to no memory of what happened during your struggle. 

But Simon is grounding. You focus on the scent of him; that faint but lingering nicotine mixed with a gentle cleanliness. Despite his bad habits, he’s still considerate about it. There’s a texture to his skin, something there besides the bruise. A gentle five o’clock shadow. Faint, silvery scars that dance along the bridge of his nose. The flicker of his eyes as he tries to read your face. 

“Sorry,” you sputter. “I just… uhm…”

“I get it,” Simon interrupts. “Long night. We should getcha home, it’s gettin’ late.” 

Your lips press tightly together as you take a deep breath, willing your heart to stay steady. He’s too close for comfort, you realize, but the look in his eyes is the softest you have seen for quite some time. 

“Yeah,” you agree. “Thanks.” 

It isn’t until you make it outside in the faint glow of the sunrise that you realize just how long you were out. A cold breeze teases at the cotton candy colored clouds lining the horizon, and it reflects off of the screen of your phone as you free it from your pocket. It’s nearly seven in the morning. Normal people are getting up to start their days about now; enjoying a fresh cup of tea, and maybe a nice warm shower. Simon doesn’t say anything about the time, and neither do you. You don’t think you can take any more guilt than what’s already eating away at you. 

As Simon leads you to the car park, you find your eyes flickering to every poorly illuminated corner and alley. A part of you still fears that Andrei might still be lurking, ready to pounce, ready to get revenge. You certainly wouldn’t put it past him. He’s done worse, and will continue to do so. Yet, there is no such boogeyman waiting for you, and your travels go unhindered. 

Your pace slows as you near Simon’s vehicle of choice, and it’s then that you’re painfully reminded that you’d only ever seen him ride a motorcycle. This is the first time you’re seeing it up close; a sleek black body, a comfortable seat perfect for cruising, something that’s obviously well taken care of. Though you’re not too keen on driving what you consider to be a one way ticket to the hospital, you’d rather face your chances on that with Simon than alone walking home. 

“Here,” Simon says, pulling you out of your thoughts. When you turn to face him, you find his shoulders flexing as he slides his leather jacket off of his torso. He holds it out to you, already prepared for your arms to slip through the sleeves, and you bite your lip. “You’ll need this if you don’t want to freeze to death.” 

“Won’t you get cold?” you counter. 

“Don’t worry ‘bout me, sweetheart,” he replies. 

You do your best to muster a look of disapproval, but Simon is unmoved by your expression, and instead shakes his coat, prompting you. Sighing, you give in and turn around to allow him to smother you in his coat. You try to remember the last time someone helped you get dressed, but you can’t. Something vague pokes in the back of your mind, attempting to convince you that you can, but the memory feels false. How long have you been like this? Taking care of yourself for so long that the help of someone else feels foreign? 

“Simon?” you ask. Your breath swirls in a white cloud in front of you before it quickly sputters and dies. The warmth of his jacket bleeds through your clothes and into your skin, staving off the bitter cold that attempts to ravage your senses. “Can I… request something?” 

He hums in response as he gently turns you back around to face him. His fingers fumble with the zipper for a short moment before he secures you, and then sneaks his gloves out of the pockets of the jacket before turning his full attention back to you. 

“Can you promise me you won’t tell Row about this?” you ask. 

Thick fingers curl and uncurl as Simon shoves his hands into his leather gloves. He’s already got a big palm and long digits, but the slight added padding of the gloves accentuates those features, and you find your mouth drying out. 

“Don’t want her to stress?” he concludes. 

You nod, and he nods back. 

“Your secret’s safe with me.” 

There’s only a few more quick steps Simon walks you through before you’re ready to hit the road. Once your new jacket is fitted around your body, he makes you wear his helmet as an extra measure of protection. He’s got a rather large head, and it smells vaguely like sweat mixed with fresh shampoo, but he’s able to get it secured well enough. He fixes his long sleeved shirt around the end of his gloves before swiping a black balaclava out of the jacket; something to protect his skin from the bitter wind you’re about to endure, no doubt. As he dons it, you try not to pay attention to the way it makes his eyes darken, as if they weren’t already intense enough. 

Simon hops onto the bike and motions for you to follow after him. It takes a bit of wiggling for you to get comfortable, as he has impossibly wide hips to accommodate, but you settle in with your hands respectfully on your knees. The engine roars to life with a jolt, rough vibrations rattling your bones in the process, and you hope Simon doesn’t hear you squeak. Before he takes off, he reaches behind him and grabs your hand, pulling you closer to him and moving your arm around his waist. 

“Hold on,” he barks over the rumbling. 

So you do. You try to keep your hands covered with the sleeves of the jacket to keep them warm while still keeping yourself secure just as he begins to pull out of the car park. There’s not as much traffic as there usually is considering it’s an early Sunday morning, and you have a feeling Simon is driving under the speed limit for your sake. Despite the lower speed, the howling wind is loud enough to drown out the ringing of your ears. 

You don’t realize until you’re about halfway home that you can feel Simon’s heartbeat. It teases your fingertips; strong and steady, as if the cruise is comforting to him. Bright sunlight bleeds through your eyelids as you close your eyes and try to get lost in the feeling. It’s so distinct you tell yourself that you can hear its reverberations travel throughout your body and meet your achy eardrums. You lean against him, chest pressed against his back, helmet resting against his shoulder, and allow yourself to get lost. The sensation is almost enough to drown out the ringing that plagues you, yet you’re ripped from it as you approach your dingy apartment. 

Silence falls as Simon kills the engine, and the two of you slide off of the bike where he assists in freeing you from the helmet before following you into the building. Neither of you say anything as you traverse up the stairs, fatigue too violent to fight off. This has been one of the hardest days you’ve had to endure in quite some time, and you can’t wait to fall asleep in the safety of your own bed and forget about it all until you wake up. 

The moment you step foot into the flat, you’re tearing Simon’s jacket off, ready to be rid of the sweat stained clothes you’ve been wearing for the better part of the last twenty four hours. You hardly manage to get your arm free from the right sleeve before a stinging pain rips through your hand. You choke out a wince as you bring your hand up, and you notice your gauze got caught. It would have torn free from your skin if it wasn’t for the dried blood welding it to your cuts. You make a foolish attempt to pull the rest of it free from your fresh wounds, which only earns you another jolt of pain. 

“Careful,” Simon chastises. He grabs your hand and pulls you closer to him, preventing you from messing with it further, and you look up at him with heavy, dead eyes. “Let me help.” 

Words bubble up in the back of your throat; sour ones that you have to force yourself to bite back as you allow Simon to help you for the umpteenth time since you’ve met him. He slips his balaclava off and doesn’t bother to fix his hair as he leads you towards the kitchen sink where his gloves quickly join his mask in his pockets. Your newly fixed sink turns on with a slight squeak as Simon wets his fingers and begins to rub at the space between your gauze and skin. 

Despite the cooling sensation, it still stings as the water mixes with your fresh wounds, but it softens your skin enough so that Simon’s able to pull the fabric free with little resistance. For the first time, you’re able to clearly see the damage done to your palms. Several deep, angry, swollen cuts line the meaty part of your hand, blending in with the lines that are there naturally. It’s hard not to grimace at the sight of it. You don’t think you want to ask what exactly he had to pull out of your skin. 

Simon’s thumb swipes over the sensitive skin just around the cuts and your eyes dart to his face. His cheeks are rosy with the November chill, but his eyes are glued onto your hand. It’s caring. So caring that it makes you feel sick. 

“I can come by in a few days to check up on it,” he says, eyes flickering to yours for only a moment. “You’d fallen into some gnarly stuff. Worried ‘bout infection.” 

“Why are you doing this?” 

Those words that you had to bite back earlier bubble up on their own volition, and they taste just as harsh as they sound. Even so, Simon doesn’t look at all offended. In fact, nothing about his stature changes at all. Maybe he’s used to the sting. Or maybe he likes it. 

“Doin’ what?” he challenges. 

“Why are… why are you doting after me?” you clarify. “I mean, you don’t even know me. Why waste your time?” 

“I’m a busy man. I don’t have time to waste. Everythin’ I do is intentional,” he corrects. 

“But why?” 

Simon doesn’t speak, but the answer is written all over his face. A heavy realization hits you, and you feel your stomach drop. 

“Row put you up to this, didn’t she?” you ask, voice soft. 

His lips press tightly together, but he doesn’t stay silent for long before he’s lowering your hand. “She’s worried ‘bout you.” 

Just as soon as that discomfort hits, it fades into your stomach and disperses until there’s nothing left. Maybe it should hurt a bit more knowing that Simon has only been doing this on orders of your best friend. You knew kindness never came cheap, if it ever came at all. Yet, you can’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of relief. He has been nothing but compassionate toward you ever since the first time he met you, and yet he is not doing it because of you. 

You don’t owe him a damn thing. 

“Yeah… she always is,” you humor. “I’m just… glad you’re not doing it just for me.” 

The sun is fully over the horizon by the time you’re tucked safely into bed and Simon leaves your apartment. There’s a deep, ancient ache that stems from his cheek bone, to the back of his neck, all the way down his spine. He knows he should be used to it by now. His job has been full of nothing but perfectly timed violence, but it always takes a toll on his body. He ignores it as he rides through the morning smog and bitter cold. Instead, his mind wanders elsewhere — specifically the cause of all that ache. 

There’s something terribly familiar about that man who accosted you in the alley. A malicious glint in his eyes that’s too dangerous for any run of the mill thug to wear. Simon probably wouldn’t have ever noticed it if you hadn’t reacted the way you did. Paralyzed with fear, unable to do anything but freeze and throw up due to unbridled anxiety. When he asked you if you knew this man — this freak with his stony face and sharp knife — you said no. 

He didn’t believe you for a second. 

Which is why he’s back at the club, hidden far back in the surveillance room, scouring through countless rolls of film. This stranger — now a freak with a broken nose — arrived at the club fifteen minutes before you did. Nothing about it seems fishy. It’s not some stakeout, nor is he waiting in the shadows to pounce on you like a predator. No, this is simple coincidence, and he vanishes out of the camera’s sight within seconds. 

Then you arrive some time later, bashful and awkward as you talk to the bouncers at the main entrance. There’s no audio, but he can tell you’re asking for directions, yet when you set off on your own you make a wrong turn. Everything else after that, he remembers himself. Seeing it again doesn’t do anything to jog his memory, not even as the camera catches the man’s bloody face and freshly shattered nose. He’s as much of an enigma now as he was before. 

It’s just past nine in the morning by the time Simon decides he needs help. A deep burn irritates his eyes as he scrolls through the contacts on his phone where names begin to blur together in fatigue. Still, he finds the name he needs with little difficulty, and he’s impatiently awaiting an answer as he listens to the dull ring blare through the speaker. 

“Hello?” a voice greets through heavy panting. 

“Out of shape, Johnny?” Simon quips. 

“Cardio day,” the man responds simply. 

Simon hums as he leans back in the squeaky desk chair. Faux leather strains underneath the pressure of his weight, but he ignores it as his eyes focus back on the monitors in front of him. 

“I’ve got an assignment for you,” he says. 

“Pushing all the hard work onto me again?” Johnny teases. 

“You’re more tech savvy than I am,” Simon deadpans. “Listen, when you come in tonight, I need you to find the name of someone for me. Get on cam five and look at the time stamp around one fifteen this morning. There’s a cunt leaving the alley next to the VIP section, and I need to know who he is.” 

A quiet slurp followed by a loud gulp cuts through the static of the call before Johnny hums. “Right. Any physical description?”

“Bastards got a broken, bloody nose,” Simon answers. 

“New dance partner?” Johnny chuckles. 

“Somethin’ like that.” 

“Right. Well, I’ll be in this afternoon working on a project for Price. I’ll let you know if anything turns up.”

“Good man,” Simon concludes. 

The line goes cold seconds later, and there’s nothing but the strong whirring of computer fans to fill the silence. Achy fingers rub at his jaw as Simon rests his eyes for a moment. If that chair wasn’t so uncomfortably small, he’d probably fall asleep right then and there, but the storm of thoughts swirling in his head keeps him going. 

You’re in trouble. As for what kind, he’s not sure yet. All he knows is that he hasn’t seen someone that afraid since Tommy watched him slaughter a man saving his life back in the butcher shop he used to work at. He didn’t like seeing that in Tommy’s eyes, and he certainly didn’t like it in yours; that primal fear. He didn’t like how your brain and body seemed to shut down because of it, or how he had to carry you to safety so you wouldn’t have to pass out on the grimy ground. 

Simon has no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into, or why it seems to haunt you so maliciously, but he does know that he’s killed before and he’ll do it again if it gets you to sleep any easier at night.

[yourelliewillms]

the guy from the record

store wasn't a guy?

ellie williams fanfic

━━ chapter 1 wc: 1.9k

read the chapters here !!

you've recently discovered this record shop, the perfect place to find everything of the new kind of music you've just gotten into, rock. your friends wouldn't share this interest with you but maybe the cute guy from the store will.

━━ he/him pronous are used for ellie sometimes but it's for plot purposes i swear !!

BASED ON THE GUY SHE WAS INTERESTED IN WASN'T A GUY AT ALL !!!! i love that manga so much i needed an ellie version so i did it myself. of course this is going to be shorter and pleeaase go read it i swear you won't regret it <3 i hardly recommend you to listen to the manga's playlist too, i'll add some of the songs to this fanfic. literally all i want is my lesbians to have the recognition they deserve. ALSO green is the characteristic color of that manga so i'll be using it here too, everything will be green bc we love green lesbians.

another warning, english is not my first language so you may find some mistakes.

it's been a long day at school but at least the week of exams has ended and you've done pretty good. "i deserve a prize" you think to yourself while your feet guide you out of the building. certainly the exams drained you, the only thing you want to do now is take a long nap to catch up on sleep.

walking down the sidewalk, you put on your headphones which have been your best friends for the last few months when you discovered this band nirvana. it is in fact a popular band but in your friend group? no, not at all. your friends prefer other kind of music. pop, kpop, even jazz, but rock? impossible.

so you find yourself unable to share your new music taste with your friends. even if you beg them to give it a chance, they'll refuse it every time. this is definitely the worst, how are you supposed to fully enjoy this work of art only by yourself? they definitely don't understand what good music is, if only they gave it a chance you could-

just when the music from your headphones stopped, you could still hear one of your favorite songs smells like teen spirit coming from a... record store?

your mind is full of questions, since when has been this store here? this is just 5 minutes away from school and you've never noticed it. maybe this is the prize you deserve for having successfully passed all your exams. buying your very first vinyl will surely be the boost of serotonin you need.

you took off your headphones before getting into the store and quickly walked to check all the beautiful vinyls. the excitement could be seen in your eyes, all the vinyls of your favorite bands in one store and you're even considering finding a job, buying everything of this store is not a want but a necessity. this must be heaven.

after what felt like seconds but were actually 20 long minutes, you finally make your choice and find the vinyl that'll have the privilege to be your very first and most appreciated acquisition.

you turn around, walk towards the shop counter and just then realize how rude of you was not to greet the old man at the store. however, you don't care that much, he should understand that you were too excited to even speak and... was it an old man? did you even look at the person who was next to you the last 20 minutes?

"i'll take this" you place the vinyl on the counter before looking up at the person in front of you.

but now, you reassure one more time that you're not on earth anymore. this is definitely heaven, or maybe something greater because the angel in front of you isn't from this planet at all. green eyes, auburn hair drawn back in a messy bun, a scar on one eyebrow, black clothes with a nirvana t-shirt, an arm tattoo and a mask. this is the most gorgeous guy you've seen in your entire life and you were rude to him, you didn't talk to him for this entire time.

"i love this one" he gave you your new purchase in a bag "you have good taste" that raspy voice that'll live in your mind rent free for an eternity, you're sure about that.

meanwhile, your mind has been spinning for the last 30 seconds. a cute guy with a stunning style and majestic music taste, you've seen only his eyes but you can already imagine a life with him where you get married and play your favorite songs in your wedding.

"thanks, you too. bye" and just like that the conversation ended. you're definitely not the most flirtatious person but you didn't ask him anything, maybe it was too soon to ask for his number but not even his name? really? you can already hear your friends scolding you but at least you remember half of his face and that's enough to be delusional the following months until you find another crush.

8 in the morning and you've been talking for half an hour to your friends about this cute guy from the record store. of course they scolded you for not asking his name but your excitement couldn't be taken away that easily. no other boy from your school has ever made you feel like this, no one called your attention like he did.

"is there any possibility that you see your boy again?" dina, your best friend asked "and maybe ask him out"

"dina!" you frowned as if she had just said the craziest thing you've heard in your life "it's too soon for that. but as soon as i see him again i'll ask him his name" you started kicking your feet "and he'll fall in love with me."

dina and your bursted out laughing and spent the whole morning planning your future life with someone you saw once.

maybe you've been talking too loud or maybe she doesn't like you, but the girl next to you has been glancing at you and dina and she seemed a little too much interested in your conversation.

ellie. you've been classmates for almost a year but you two never spoke. she's like any other girl at school. she wears the same uniform as you, a white shirt and a gray skirt. she also wears these square glasses and she has her headphones on most of the time.

she seems like one of those nerds but one that doesn't participate that much in class. she comes to class, listens to the professors and goes home. you've never seen her talking to any other classmates but she seems comfortable only drawing on her notebook and listening to something on her headphones, it's not that you don't like her, but you haven't had the opportunity to get to know her.

but today she seemed quite distracted and instead of focusing on the class, she was focused on you. she seemed nervous, maybe she wanted to join the conversation and make some friends?

however, the bell rang. you were too busy talking about your new guy to try to figure out why ellie's been looking at you more than usual. you began to pack up your belongings; notebook, pencil case, some other books and, are you forgetting something?

the moment you're getting up from your seat, you can feel ellie's presence approaching you. you stare up at her for a few seconds and before you can say something, her hand reached your ear and put on one of your earbuds.

"you dropped this" your eyebrows furrowed, did she always had those pretty green eyes?

the song that you'd been listening on loop nothing at all was playing on your earbuds loud enough for her to listen to it "that song rocks, doesn't it?" and just like that she walked out the door leaving you completely confused. you're sure you've seen those eyes before, you think that maybe for a split second you stopped looking at ellie as your classmate and maybe... someone else.

on the other hand, ellie has been walking in silence staring at her feet while her mind is about to explode because the girl who sits next to her, her classmate and one of the most popular girls at school, has met and is interested in a guy who works at the record store. but no guy works there, just ellie.

she got a part time job and she's been working there for a few months but that was the first time she saw you there. you didn't recognize her though, since the style she has at her job is the opposite of the one she has at school.

probably the best option is to tell you the truth, the guy you're interested in isn't a guy and is actually the boring, nerdy girl from school, the girl you'd never talk to because that would only ruin your reputation, or at least that's what ellie thinks.

ellie thought that her job should be boring and only boring, she didn't want to have to deal with something else than that. and now that girl has a crush on her, or she has a crush on the person she thinks ellie is.

fortunately, ellie's job is calm. not many people visit the store so she spends her first hours of work tidying the place, not paying much attention to the store itself.

while cleaning at the back of the store, ellie heard the ring of the little bell on the door warning the presence of a client. she sighed and fixed her clothes before getting into the store again but got surprised when she noticed that the client was actually you.

if it weren't for the music playing at the store, the place would have been in complete silence. no one was on sight when you walked in so the sound coming from the back of the store scared you and you jumped. "you scared me, i didn't know you were here" you giggled nervously.

"have you been looking forward to it that much?" you were starting to stutter when the green eyed spoke in what seemed a flirty way. "no- i mean! the new foo fighters album" she interrupted herself "you were looking forward to it because you wanted to buy it, right?" she tried to hide her shaky voice, did she just accidentally flirt with you?

"i swear it's so good, you can hear it a thousand times and it'll still sound amazing. also, i know you like nirvana too because you bought the vinyl. you'll love it, i totally recommend it."

you were in a dream, did you just exchange more than two words with that guy? and he was showing a lot of interest it seemed unreal. you'd be a fool if you mess this up.

"i really want to buy it but uhm..." your pockets were empty, you spent all your money in that vinyl and being an unemployed student is not helpful to your situation "i'm a bit short of money right now" not to say that you're dry.

"i'm sorry but i-" yet she didn't let you finish your sentence "i bought this one for myself. you can have it and tell me your opinion when you return it."

he couldn't be more charming to you. only 5 minutes talking and you had already fell down on your knees. "thank you. you can give me your number so that i can bring it back." your hand sweating for you've finally made a move on who you thought was the guy from your dreams.

"no," no? he rejected you just like that, he didn't even a think a second to answer your question "it's just... i can't use my phone at work."

laying on the counter in front of you was a black ink pen which you quickly grabbed and started writing your phone number on his wrist next to his tattoo.

ellie looked at you stunned, she was glad she was wearing a mask because her cheeks had turned crimson. she noticed your hand shaking and that was the moment she realized the trouble she'd gotten into.

"i thought that if i wrote it on a paper, you'd lose it." the music playing in the background just made the atmosphere between you two dreamlike. you waved and smiled at him as you left the store hoping your burning cheeks would go unnoticed. not only did you have someone to share your interests with but also it was someone who you were crushing on really hard.

the first person on the taglist will be my editor/manager/first person who read this @ohnopoteito thank uuu 💋💋

[ollieolliewrld]

DMC Men on Valentine's Day (SFW/NSFW)

Gender-neutral reader! NSFW is marked before it begins for each <3

1.8k words

Dante 

☆Dante had never taken Valentine's Day seriously

☆Before he met you there was no real love in his life so the day meant nothing to him

☆With you in his life though, he is determined to make Valentine’s Day the best day of the year

☆Very stereotypical setup, he got the flowers, the candy, the floor covered in flower petals, and your shared apartment is fully lit up by candles

☆He is pulling out all of the stops by making you your favorite dinner and treating you to a romantic bubble bath

☆He has never done romantic stuff before and he’s actually really into it 

☆Dante finds decorating and setting everything up to be very fun and keeps imagining your reaction when you arrive home and see everything

☆When you do arrive home your reaction is better than he imagined as you wrap your arms around him tightly planting kisses on his lips, nose, and cheeks

☆You were not expecting this and are so grateful for the effort he put in 

☆First, he helps you take off your coat, takes your bags from you, and then leads you to the dining table where the food is set up

☆The meal is delicious and you can taste the love he put into it, he tells you how he had a small mishap while cooking and you both laugh and talk for hours

* NSFW FROM HERE IF YOU’RE UNDER 18 LOOK AWAY *

☆After dessert, Dante leads you into the bathroom where he has a bath ready for the two of you 

☆He stands behind you planting kisses on your neck and down your shoulders slowly taking off your clothes

☆Once you are down to just your underwear you start to undress him starting by taking off his shirt, kissing all over his chest, and running your hands over his abs

☆You drop to your knees as he reaches down to undo his belt, eagerly you pull down his jeans and boxers and are met with his semi-hard length

☆Taking your hand around it you spit onto his tip and spread it over the head of his cock beginning to stroke him

☆“God, I love the way you do that, Baby” Dante groans as he looks down to meet your eyes

☆You lock eyes with him as you take him into your mouth swirling your tongue his tip still using your hand to stroke him

☆Taking his cock further into your mouth prompts Dante to place his hand on the back of your head gently pushing you to take him deeper down your throat, “Just like that, you’re doing so well for me” 

☆You bob your head using your free hand to brace yourself until he stops you brings you up to standing and pulls you into a kiss

☆“You are so good to me, but today is about you,” he says as he takes your hand to lead you into the tub

☆Dante spends the night exploring your body and making sure you are satisfied before finally lying down in your shared bedroom where he has put several dozens of flower bouquets around 

☆He holds you against his chest drawing patterns on your back as he whispers about his love for you until you fall asleep 

Vergil

☆This man loves you more than you will ever know 

☆However, he is clueless when it comes to things like Valentine’s Day

☆This doesn't mean he isn't going to try as he does want to spend this day with you and show you how much you mean to him

☆Valentine’s with Vergil is simple and meaningful 

☆He plans to make dinner with you playing music while you two work together to prepare the meal

☆A song will come on that Vergil specifically made sure was on the playlist 

☆When the first note plays he stops what he’s doing to take your hand and pull you to his chest 

☆One hand goes to your waist and the other takes your hand in his as he leads you in a slow dance 

☆Having you close to him allows him to shower you with compliments and tell you just how much you mean to him

☆He ends the dance with a kiss on your cheek and you two go back to work 

☆You work seamlessly together to set the table and plate the food 

☆The meal is beautiful and the conversation you share is deep and full of love

☆After you are done eating you go to begin cleaning but Vergil stops you and hands you an envelope telling you he wants you to read it while he takes care of the dishes

☆Puzzled you nod and go to the couch to open the letter 

☆Inside is a beautifully written note recounting your relationship from the day he met you until now saying how grateful he is to have you in his life

☆You begin to cry before you can get to the end and by this time he has come to sit beside you wiping away your tears

☆“You are the world to me, the end to my suffering,” he says as he places a kiss on your lips

* NSFW FROM HERE IF YOU’RE UNDER 18 LOOK AWAY *

☆You deepen the kiss running your hand through his hair and gently tugging at his white locks

☆Vergil groans into your mouth pulling you onto his lap not once taking his lips off of yours

☆He places his hands on your ass gently squeezing as he pulls you into him

☆You begin to roll your hips into his starting to feel him harden underneath you

☆Breaking the kiss he leans his head to look at you fully

☆“Be good for me and get on your hands and knees” he asks guiding you with his hands

☆You happily oblige feeling him take off your pants from behind you 

☆Making quick work of your shirt you turn to see Vergil now undressed behind you slowly stroking his cock

☆He pulls out a bottle of your favorite lube and applies a generous amount to his now swollen member 

☆Placing a hand on your hip he guides the tip of his cock to your entrance

☆“Take it all for me, Baby,” as he slowly slides into you

☆His thrusts are deep starting slowly

☆He wants you to feel him fully each time he enters you

☆Grabbing your hips with both hands he guides you back to fuck yourself on his cock

☆Your moans fuel him as he changes the pace to a faster one 

☆When he’s about to cum he grabs your hair to pull your back against his chest 

☆As he finishes he whispers in your ear, “You are mine and I will never let you go” 

Nero

☆This man has all of the right intentions but cannot plan to save his life

☆He had so many ideas of what to do with you on Valentine’s Day, so excited to show you how much he loves and cares for you 

☆But he did not check his calendar and now here the two of you are on Valentine’s Day driving to kick some demon ass

☆He thought it was weird that Nico wasnt here to drive but he forgot about it as he was too focused on designing a bouquet of flowers for you in his head

☆Nero starts up a conversation as he usually does, you seem off but once again he is so preoccupied with what restaurant to make reservations at he figures that he’ll ask you about it later

☆It was a small job only taking the two of you about an hour and something falls out of your bag as you were packing things up

☆Nero picks it up thinking that he’s helping you but he notices that it’s a cutely wrapped box with his name on it

☆You see what’s in his hand and lock eyes with him unsure of what to say next

☆This is when it clicks, today is Valentine’s Day

☆Immediately he begins to apologize attempting to explain what happened and how he lost track of time and promising to make it up to you

☆You stop him and tell him that you aren’t angry and tell him to open the box

☆He opens it to find a note stating that you were sorry for forgetting what today was

☆You tell him that you also had plans for today but did not look at the calendar until today, only having time for what is currently in his hands

☆He starts laughing and pulls you into a bear hug, you two hold each other as you laugh over what happened realizing that a day didn't matter, the bond you had was unbreakable and the love you share is stronger than anything life throws at you

* NSFW FROM HERE IF YOU’RE UNDER 18 LOOK AWAY *

☆Getting back into the van all of the awkward air is gone and you can now just enjoy each other's company 

☆You look over at him from the passenger seat and start noticing how good Nero looks today

☆While he rambles on about what take-out food to get for tonight you begin to run your hand over his thigh

☆It takes a minute for him to pick up on what you’re up to but once you begin stroking his cock through his pants he shuts up

☆His grip on the wheel tightens trying to keep focus on the road

☆“You keep this up and we might crash, Sweetheart,” He says aware of how hard he is now

☆Taking this as a challenge more than a warning you undo his belt and he lefts his hips to pull his pants down freeing his cock already dripping with precum

☆You undo your seatbelt hoping to take him into your mouth but your plans come to a halt as you feel him abruptly pull over

☆“Get in the back now,” Nero says as he puts the van in park and takes the keys out of the ignition

☆Quickly you get to the back and undress watching as he does the same

☆Nero lays you on your back taking one of your legs in his hand and bringing it up to his shoulder

☆He spits into his hand and spreads it over his cock before he lines up with your entrance

☆Locking eyes with you he says, “I love you and I never want you to forget that,” as he pushes into you fully

☆The gasp that leaves your lips tells him everything he needs to know 

☆Fucking you in the back of a car was not what either of you planned on for Valentine’s Day but you know he will more than makeup for it when you get home

Author's note: This is my first NSFW post! I have more detailed posts that I am working on and will be writing longer and more detailed stories both SFW and NSFW for individual characters soon <3<3

[throwaway-yandere]

𝗖𝗹𝗮𝘀𝘀���𝗰𝗮𝗹 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗱𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 [Yandere!Dottore/Reader]

a/n: this fic is 100% dedicated to @leftdestiny-posts and they would know just how much they had inspired me in this fic once they finished reading it HAHAHAHAH. P.S.: the classical songs mentioned are actual songs. Yes, the title is half a joke. Here's the spotify playlist if you're curious.

Unreliable Synopsis: You cannot remember your past, but your doctor has been with you every step of the way— and he's more than willing to spend some time with you outside the hospital. Still... did you always have pure white hair?

CW: yandere themes, light body horror, manipulation, its dottore, c'mon LOL.

Concert II "Tristezza Di Fine Anno", performed by the Morespoke Philharmonic with their conductor, Lady Columbina, began nearly an hour ago. And you had the fortune of hearing their songs for yourself.

The well-dressed crowd filled the seats, behaving in what was appropriate for their high station. It was fully booked. The music overwhelmingly masked anyone's breaths, if they had one to start with. Her program can be felt deep in the audience's bones. Rattling them in each sforzando before it lulls down through the sound of her handpicked musicians— with Lady Columbina as the lonesome soloist when the moment calls for it.

"This piece, Symphony No. 5 in C-Sharp Minor, is not Columbina's own making, she had failed to mention that," your company hummed. "This was by another composer who hid behind the name Safed. They were a self-fulling prophecy. Do you wish to know what they said about this piece?"

You said nothing as Zandik— Lord Dottore— stroked your unnaturally "white" hair.

"They said that nobody understood the piece and that they wish they could conduct the first performance five centuries after their death."

Zandik smiled.

"What say you? Do you think those words are true?"

Your company was a tall and thin man with artificially pale-ish skin and wavy blue hair. His eyes were reportedly bloodshot crimson, although you had not received proof of that in this lifetime. But, you were drawn to his deep ocean-like colors, and that was enough to keep you mildly complacent to his strange remarks.

Zandik is surprisingly a considerate man, but he must've brought you with him for a reason. He told you himself that the reason he brought you out of your prison-like hospital room was a mere experiment on his behalf. Paradigm-shifting consequences of his strange social experiments with you are likely to occur, and he cares not for its ethical debates. He won't ask for rhetorics; these to him are tangible outcomes and no questions will be entertained.

All except his.

"I think… "

The composition had a serene, slightly asymmetrical feel to it. You were certain this was Lady Columbina's creative liberties at play. Something about it did not capture its true authenticities. The show purported to narrate three stories: the first concerned a judge who had to find a loved one guilty; the second concerned a prince who drove their beloved into despair; and the final was a tale of a knight who disregarded his obligation to defend a loved one.

But it felt incomplete. As if there was a missing piece— a secret fourth act hiding between the notes and stage.

"A person can't completely mourn for something they would never experience," you told him. "But even so, if I were Safed, I'd feel like my effort would've been a waste."

His eyes remained trained on your hair as you spoke. Zandik seems to dislike it. Unlike his cells mixed with engineered nanomaterials, yours are uniquely… "natural". His hair has a color intensity, whereas yours was the presence of every color— as physics explained it.

"Something they would never experience…" Zandik repeated, tasting the words on his tongue— a smirk etched on his face as though it tasted like bitter irony.

You continued.

"I have a hunch that Safed put everything they worked hard on all their pieces because Lady Columbina wouldn't have performed it otherwise. Since all the songs on the concert's program are marketed as underappreciated compositions, I would… um… infer that they also questioned their works and ultimately themselves if it all had worth in the end. Hopeless for the lack of attention, they probably thought there's more hope if they lived in another generation."

You wanted to say, though you're not sure where this negativity came from, that they probably despised how their well-crafted works were ignored and their sloppy yet significantly more popular compositions angered them.

But you're not Safed. You don't want to put words in their mouth.

".... Hmm, an acceptable hypothesis— a decent one, even," whatever monotonous response Zandik wished to convey, his voice betrayed his grand satisfaction. "Yet I won't give you any confirmation."

"I know."

Zandik laughed.

"The next piece is Norn's Adagio for Strings Op. 11, before the closing Symphony No. 6, better known as Pathétique Symphony, in B Minor Op. 74."

You tilted your head innocently. "Pathetic?"

"Another piece by Safed. It's a Fontaine-translated title. It's originally named pateticheskaya, which meant passionate or emotional, not at all pitiable."

He crossed his arms, insulted as though he was the one who came up with the original title.

"Roughly half a millennium past, the masses attributed Safed's demise to the strains of their final composition, the so-called Pathétique, a mere nine days preceding their exit from this mortal coil. The prevailing narrative spouts a tale of a tragic surrender to the clutches of undiagnosed clinical depression. I find such simplicity in analysis rather pedestrian, wouldn't you agree?"

You took a while to process his inquiry before hesitantly nodding.

"I… I think so."

Zandik smiled.

It's hard to tell if it's genuine, especially when such a protruding mask hides his eyes. Should its existence vanish, you aren't certain you'd see a soul within his pupils either.

"Safed hated this piece, believing it should be cast aside and forgotten. They were living in the woodlands when they wrote it— and when they decided to live with their benefactor, it was suddenly difficult to tear them away from their work."

You nodded to cue that you were still listening.

"They have an incredibly deep connection with their works. One might say they see in tunes rather than color."

You nodded again.

"Your inclination towards a perpetual affirmation of propositions, presumably to veil any potential lacunae in your cognitive purview, does not escape me. It is, if I may be so bold, your agreement that conceals your specter of unfamiliarity, right?"

You rarely understand a word he says when he is in this passionate state. You just nod as if you knew.

"Adorable," Zandik chuckled.

His voice was chillingly low yet… comforting. 

"Your sincerity constitutes an enchanting facet of your comportment."

He had to be teasing you.

"Although…" Zandik grabbed a few locks of your hair as though it was slimy and unpleasant— quickly retracting them with a disapproving tilt. "You could stand to utilize more (h/c) hair dyes. How is it conceivable that it has returned to white yet again?"

You opened your mouth but Zandik raised a finger.

"No. I am the scholar here. Do not answer."

You giggled. "Understood, Doctor."

He grinned, inadvertently showing off his pointed canines.

"What a good test subject you are, my dear (Y/n)."

Whether good was a subjective or objective assessment or not was up to interpretation.

The mid-concert intermission began, allowing Lady Columbina's pressured musicians a 20-minute sigh of relief. Zandik ushered you to the back where the Lady Harbinger reposed on a white sofa, her cheek brushing a visibly soft and cloud-like pillow. The bright backstage lighting made her seem ethereal.

She looked like heaven, but Zandik would argue that "(Y/n)" is the true epitome of the word.

"Greetings. As expected, you'd initiate conversation at the earliest convenience." She cooed. "You look younger today, Doctor."

"You know very well that I do not take that as a compliment, Columbina." Zandik scoffed. "How many times will we rehearse this canned script until it is a learned lesson?"

"Perhaps it shall end on the day you refrain yourself from recreating… perspectives."

"Since my encounter with the Dendro Archon, I have not revisited that notion."

Columbina's gentle smile dropped coldly. "You know that your segments are not what I am referring to."

You looked back and forth between the two. Each of them was a distinctively unique person and it's a challenge to take your eyes away from the other.

Hence, when you felt Lady Columbina's eyes on you, you shook and straightened yourself before bowing stiffly.

"G-Greetings, Lady Columbina!!!"

Her gentle smile resurfaced.

"Greetings to you as well, dear Safed."

You blinked.

Dottore clicked his tongue, and Columbina laughed softly.

"Apologies, I meant to say (Y/n)— that is the name you go by in this era of humanity, right?"

You'd rightfully claim that between the three of you, you were the most human. Zandik has his clones, Columbina's origins are of strict secrecy, and you are a mere amnesiac patient. But the way she addressed you was sounding awful like stripping you away with that sense of humane identity.

"Yes? I guess?"

Columbina delightedly buzzed in your reply. "(Y/n)— truly a lovely name. That must mean that you're very healthy! It warms my heart to hear that name again. The other ones had terribly dull names, but if the Doctor had given you this title, then it must mean his research is finally drawing to a close."

Her remarks made little sense. You know little about yourself and trust only the Doctor's judgment. Should you trust her words, then it must mean (Y/n) isn't your real name…

But… that doesn't seem right either. 

"Not quite, the name deserves no celebration," Dottore replied happily. "I merely ran out of translations. Bianco, Wit, Bái— what else is there? Ancient Natlan?"

"Scientists truly make for terrible poets— Why not try Inazuman?" Columbina offered.

Those words must have had a heavy weight to them because Zandik pondered for much longer than expected.

"Hmm. I'll keep that in mind," Zandik muttered. "Although it is preferable it does not have to reach that point."

"May I ask why did you bring them here?" Columbina asked.

"It's a bit of an unconventional experiment, but I've been exploring how to elicit positive associations with certain stimuli. Exposing them to music as I accompany them should cause them to associate the emotional response it elicits with being around me." Dottore hummed. "It would be asinine to put them in a chaotic yet controlled environment such as a theme park. While a racing heart may be effective, I shouldn't risk a (Y/n)'s well-being by subjecting them to roller coasters."

"Are you sure you're not the scared one?" You asked cheekily. Zandik rolled his eyes.

She shook her head.

"What a roundabout way of saying you're taking them out on a concert date…"

Columbina looked at you once more.

"Oh, but (Y/n), you appear unwell, my dear…" she pointed at stage left. "Why don't you fix yourself up in the nearest restroom?"

Dottore raised an eyebrow, which made you want to decline Columbina.

"I'm r-really okay, Lady Colum—"

"I insist."

Columbina smiled wider. Her laced mask cast a gloomy shade on her visage.

You had no other choice.

"O… Okay."

The halls that led to the restroom were mostly empty. Perhaps it was due to Lady Columbina's performance that made them patiently await the next song.

But there was one young man you encountered along the way. He had blonde half-way braided hair and purple-ish eyes. You paid him no mind as he circled a small rectangular paper, likely the concert's ticket, between his fingers. However, within a second, that paper vanished.

You stopped in your tracks and looked at him curiously, wondering if your eyes played tricks. He laughed, noting your attention.

"Ah! Sorry," he cheerfully gestured a small wave. "Didn't mean to practice in public."

The blonde man approached you with a smile.

"You're #9805, right?"

Immediately, you both got on the wrong foot.

Your nose scrunched, "I prefer (Y/n)."

The man flinched. "Oh, yikes! I'm not making the best first impression— nice to meet you (Y/n)! I have something for you."

You thought he was handing you his concert ticket for a moment but when you took a good look, it was a grayscale brochure.

And a white tulip…

"Um…"

"Needless to say, I'm something of a—"

"Trickster?"

"Magician, but an astute guess nonetheless!" He laughed sheepishly. "I was waiting for you, I thought you wouldn't go to the restroom."

So, did Lady Columbina plan this?

You caressed the binding and skimmed through the pages. "What's this for?"

"Father said you might be interested in its contents," the young man said. "That's all."

You blinked.

"... Are you saying you missed out most of the concert just to hand me this?"

He laughed awkwardly again. "My dear sister says I have a habit of missing a hint of romanticism when it counts, so I guess today's just one of those moments."

"Did you not like the music?" You scoffed, temper rising.

"Did you hate the composition? Did you not understand the e-emotion behind the chords? Don't you understand just how d-disrespectful that was?!"

"Woah, woah, I didn't say any of that." His eyes widened.

He didn't expect your voice to crack.

"I'm so sorry if you're offended— are you one of the original composers?"

…

You took a deep breath.

… Why were you mad?

… Why did it feel like those songs mean more to you than meets the eye?

"Sorry, I just…" You shook your head. "I guess I'm not feeling well. Oh, no, I'm so SO sorry…"

An unknown part of you thrived to hear him praise the music. That same part pitied the composer who worked day and night to perfect their piece. It's an ugly voice, but it was sincere.

… What was wrong with you? Why did you suddenly lash out? What was going on?

"Oh, well there's no need to be sorry then." The blonde man took his hat off and bowed.

"Farewell, Mx. (Y/n)!" He grinned. "The greatest magician in all Teyvat will take his leave. Thank you for your time!"

With the sway of his dark cape, he disappeared.

You entered the restroom to wash your face. It didn't do much to soothe your nerves. The lingering dread for your strange emotional mood swing remained.

To distract yourself, you read through the article.

The Enigmatic Legacy of Composer Safed

In the annals of musical history, few figures emerge as enigmatic and hauntingly captivating as the orchestral composer, Safed. Born five centuries ago amidst the ancient woodlands of Sumeru, this ethereal musician seemingly materialized from Vanarama with no familial relations.

Huh… So it's about the one who wrote the previous compositions earlier.

No wonder that blonde man asked if you were one of the composers. He was being a smartass.

A Fiery Finale: The Pathétique Symphony

Legend has it that in their final act of emotional expression, Safed penned the "Pathétique Symphony," a composition so emotionally charged that, overwhelmed with disdain for their creation, they purportedly set ablaze their woodland home. Seeking solace and escape, Safed accepted the benevolent offer of a city-dwelling benefactor.

…

…

Safed… burned down their house?

No…

No, that's not how you remembered that.

No.

No. No. No. No. No.

That's not what happened. "Safed" didn't burn their house down.

Suddenly, you stilled. Your thoughts ran wild, but your inner rationale tried to force them to a halt. This peak in anxiety did not make sense.

… Why would an amnesiac like you know what happened?

A Swansong: Il Dottore's Beneficence

Their benefactor, now celebrated as our Lord Harbinger, Il Dottore, welcomed Safed into the city's heart. It was here that the truth unfolded: Safed had been grappling with hearing loss for years, an affliction that fueled their artistic brilliance yet cloaked them in a muffled world. They were unaware of their disability, yet thrived in their field.

…

…

Wait…

Before you began to read the final paragraph in Safed's brochure, you hurriedly went back to Dottore and the composer's vintage photographed portraits.

After seeing their face, you dropped the brochure in the restroom's sink.

You saw their face.

You saw YOUR face and Zandik's.

But not quite. That was you, but at the same time, it wasn't. Zandik looked stiff in those photos with "you", likely a product of the time since Kamera photography was used only in rare formalities that required a bit of dress up. But the "you" you saw was sickly way beyond the formal costumes. They had (e/c) eyes and (h/c) hair, but yours were all white. 

White…

Safed… That's the Sumeru translation for white, isn't it?

Bianco, Wit, Bái— they're all translations for "white", aren't they? And if Dottore and Columbina's earlier conversations were to go by, the one after you would be named Shiro.

…

The one… after you?

"Tut tut."

You trembled at the familiar sound.

You slowly turned your head around and there he was, leaning against the restroom door.

"You were in the restroom for too long. It appears my suspicions were not unfounded."

Without waiting for a response, he approached with large strides. His gloved hands seized your stressed shoulders. The grip tightened harshly as he forced you to meet his intense gaze. Blood trailed from the corner of your mouth, and your anxiety heightened. He angrily bared his sharp teeth as he watched it stain his gloves.

And yet Zandik looks…

Sad.

And distressed.

He pressed his earpiece.

"Test Subject #9805 exhibits troubling symptoms. Hematemesis suggests a severe physiological response. Persistent manifestations of albinism in ocular and follicular pigmentation indicate underlying deformities. Immediate isolation is warranted for the researcher and subject's well-being."

His hand was cold. Skin imbued with silver nanomaterials after several operations, reminiscent of the age-old philosophical question: "Is it still the same ship if you gradually replace all of its parts?" 

Then Zandik did something unexpected.

He dropped his hold and you prepared yourself by shutting your eyes as he swung his arm.

To hug you.

"I'm sorry, I have failed you again, (Y/n)," Zandik muttered. "I should not have raised my expectations."

"W… What? Why are you putting me in isolation?" You asked, rattled. "What have I done?! I just— I didn't do anything wrong! What did I—"

He shifted, dragging your arm to hug him back as though you were a little girl's doll. Zandik rested his head on your shoulder, shaking slightly.

"In your innocence, no fault lies. I thought I had accomplished what I had set out to do, and met unfulfilled expectations" Zandik gritted his teeth, voice somber. "Despite centuries of refinement, it appears that I still have room for improvement in perfecting the process… I was right. This deserves no celebration."

The doctor laughed sadly.

"When will I ever be proven wrong?" He asked himself as he wiped the blood off the corner of your lips.

He pulled away, pecking your forehead.

"I'm sorry."

Those were not the words you expected from his mouth, and yet you heard it more than once. I'm sorry. It does not fit his character, nor does the tender yet cold hug he had given prior.

You're scared. You're terrified. You know what was bound to come. You know what awaits you. White walls. Silence. Separation.

Solitary.

Far from a choice. Far from negotiable.

There's no amnesty.

And yet, the words flowed from you naturally.

"... I forgive you."

You have no idea why you said what you said. There's no certainty that you believed your own words. Zandik's lip twitched downward.

"You should not," Zandik croaked. "Why? Why must you always forgive and accept my selfishness? Do you derive satisfaction in seeing me in this state?!"

You opened your mouth to answer but were stopped abruptly as he grabbed your hair.

Zandik had always favored you compared to other patients. You know this very well. He's an evil man and the list of actions he had done that had harmed you in the name of science is at least two pages long upon your awakening. Yet, you were sure he liked you enough for he told you of his new exciting experiments. He scolded you when you left his research institute for fresh air. And he would hold your hand whenever you dreaded those thick injections.

You just didn't know he had it in him to fold from his intimidating facade just to kiss you like a desperate man. 

Breathless under his control, he softly pressed his lips against yours. His lips were chapped and cold, and he took you in gently as though he'd break you. Zandik, as strange as it was, still seemed to prioritize your comfort over his needs. Normally, this tension would've made him so short-tempered. But this will be your last interaction. The doctor tasted your blood in his mouth, and he was nauseous at the thought of hurting you more. But he stopped. Even though he wishes to force all his pent-up desires onto you. Even though he wanted to love you thoroughly that you'd forget your name again.

Zandik whimpered quietly as he pulled away— sounding like a dog that would not sleep that night. What was left in between was a thin disappearing line of saliva and blood that quickly broke off.

The doctor should be happy he finally got to have a proper date with you after 9805 failed attempts. 

But he's not content.

He was about to lean in for the second time but stopped himself. Selfish. To think he nearly saw you two finally walking down the aisle. Why was he always so selfish when it came to you? But those rhetorics mattered not in your head.

You were silenced. You were held.

You were loved.

"No." Zandik breathed in, laughing humorlessly. "No— I am the scholar here. Don't answer."

And you will be disposed of.

"Take them away." He spoke to his men calmly. They had entered long enough to witness what he had done. The men did not hesitate to grab you, thinking Dottore thought you no more than a mere toy.

But calm was deceptive. It does not convey the distress that chokes him.

Maybe…

Maybe in the 9806's trial… he'll have you as he always wanted.

The Fatuus that escorted you in was gentle. A silent guide. The expression on her face was clear that she wanted to extend her apologies as well but mustn't.

You already have a white tulip in hand.

Arlecchino already sended her regards in advance.

When she opened the door by tapping a card against the lock, she bowed her head. You let yourself enter without a fight. The room was pure white with the rest of the furniture matching the drapes. But Dottore didn't just provide the necessities. There were books, sketch pads, and other recreational materials.

As you were about to approach the center, something was off on both sides.

You looked to your left.

Two clear mirrors divided your room from the others. There's a sign on the left wall. Code #4135.

You stood, shocked, grieving at the sight of your predecessor. They were a mirror of you but with a different name— and an even worse state.

One had made a slight sound coming off their skin— rotting slightly. There's a tube connected to their mouth and you could see yourself— you could see them dripping. They had your face. Their hair and eyes were white. The nose was gone, leaving a gaping hole. Their neck was cricked back at an unnatural angle. You don't know if they're still breathing. They're still bleeding. They must've bitten off their tongue.

There's a lone white blanket that covers the rest of them.

You think they might be dead.

You think "you" might've died more than once.

THUD!

You jolted at the sound coming from the wall behind you. Upon seeing their body, you froze.

Code #032.

They were but a head. You wish you could only focus on that aspect, but you looked lower and your hair raised. They cannot feel the same, for they were almost only a spine left. The rest of them were their skeletal frame, guided by thin lines one can barely call flesh.

Their head banged against the mirror. The thought that the sound was what made you flinch earlier made you unwell.

They seem to be telling you something. Their breath fogged up the glass and their thinned white hair splayed across your view. Their mouth said something urgently you couldn't comprehend because their tongue was paper-like in size.

#032 was shaking. Their pain grew vivid in every movement that the room was starting to spin. You sensed their turmoil.

They looked like death.

You all looked like death itself, both the pretty and ugly ends of it.

"Don't." You whispered, begging as you knelt to their level. "You don't have to speak."

You laughed deprecatingly.

"We're not the scholar here. He is."

In every syllable, you saw the outline of their esophagus strain. The nerves were blueish purple. The little skin they have left on their cheeks is sunken. Their lips were gnawed, likely as a response to the pain they'd gone through previously. Fists of bone tapped against the glass, and you quivered, imagining their pain.

You were not afraid of them. You only mourned their anguish. In fact, you feel at ease to be in the presence of yourself from the past.

It reminded you of what "Safed" had allegedly spoken years ago.

Nobody understood the pieces you made and you wished you could conduct the first performance five centuries after your first death.

And now, here you are.

Seeing two "people" who do understand you.

And they share your face.

"Pathetically", the only one that can understand you is yourself.

You're all flies trapped in a web that the predator refuses to wrap and consume out of pity. Compared to the others, you looked fine.

But your lungs were blistering.

Despite their deathly ill and mutilated bodies, you were the one bound to die soon enough.

His experiments worked.

You love him.

You love Zandik.

And how tragic it was that the person who learned how to love him was doomed to perish.

In your last minutes, you recalled something vital:

As an outsider, your body was not meant for this world, but after encountering the woodland creatures and Zandik, it became tremendously difficult to part ways with it.

You coughed up yet again with a gentle smile on your face. Maybe you're not dying…

Maybe you're just returning home, for every atom in your multiple bodies was once part of the galaxy.

You are (Y/n) (L/n).

And you were not from Teyvat.

Much like the rest of the descenders, you have a quirk about you that sets you apart from the norm. For the travelers the world reveres today, it was their distinct determination and questionable age that was remarkable. Yours slightly titters to an inhuman level.

You can "clone" yourself.

Zandik and the "original" you wouldn't phrase it in that manner, but it's the easiest way to describe your talents.

"So, it is cloning." Zandik paused. "Mind letting me in on the science behind the process?"

He was an ordinary student when you both met. Far from a doctor, but at least he was a registered scholar in the Akademiya. Zandik didn't have an eloquent tongue as he does in the present, yet his curiosity burned all the same.

Which is why, back then, you thought his questions were cute.

Not dangerous.

"It's not that I can make copies of myself without consequences," you humored with a grin. "I'm just making… fragments of myself. Segments, if you prefer to call it that. It's a common ability for the people back in my world. None of us do it excessively— especially since we're kind of an invasive species." 

Zandik raised an eyebrow, "is that a commendable trait?"

"My kind says so. Whether good is a subjective or objective assessment or not is up to interpretation." You answered noncommittedly. "I don't think that's right. Our soul splits apart until we're just… empty. We lose some memories in the process."

"But functioning?"

"In a sense, yeah, but we lose a part of ourselves like memories and well, hair color, I guess." You nodded. "Why are you so curious?"

"Since you have rejected my confession, I want to try my hand at seducing a copy of yours instead," Zandik said. You couldn't tell whether he was joking with his naturally piercing red eyes. "Until then, you are not allowed to asexually reproduce without my authorization. Understood?"

You laughed. Unaware of his arsonist crimes, you willingly indulged his words.

"I owe you my ears, so it's only right that I'll listen to your commands, Zandik."

"Good." Zandik grinned, shark-like.

"What a good test subject you are, (Y/n)."

Centuries later, that closing sentence will continue to remain true.

Since then, his life has changed. Multiplied, even. Upon studying your genetic makeup, he found ways to duplicate himself as well. Despite his feats in science, Zandik remained unhappy.

Deep down, all the Harbingers pity the Doctor who cannot save his most loved one. That includes both Columbina and Arlecchino.

No one protests even when harmful orders are given; everything appears fine until the symptoms are felt. Because the organism— the astral descender— has no nerves or voice, he continues to assume that the patient is not in pain.

The patient needs peace but because they are not to speak, they remain silent, and the need persists.

The patient wants to eat and breathe fresh air, but because such desires might hurt the feelings of the doctor who thinks he has done everything needed, the patient remains quiet, contemplating desires out of fear of reprimand.

The original (Y/n) (L/n) suffers in silence. In a white room only accessible by a man who continues to nurse his unrequited love: Zandik.

No one else can enter this room.

He won't allow it. Only he can be obsessed with you.

The thought of you haunts him like a smiling reflection upon window panes— like a gift of a Trojan horse with nothing but your echoing laughter and hospital monitor beeps inside. Your thin limbs were marching clock hands with rusted gears that miraculously function till the end of time.

What is immortality for if every day was a death loop?

It is such a lonely concept…

You ought to be thankful that he's willing to be your eternal company.

"I endeavored to elicit a reciprocation of my sentiments from the latest subject. Regrettably, their discovery of my antecedent experiments transpired prematurely. Nevertheless, as asserted several times, it remains but a temporal inevitability until an iteration of yourself succumbs to having an interest towards me." Dottore hummed.

He held your feet.

He held Test Subject #01's feet.

If you spoke up, he would've bragged about how he was right. How people do love your songs. But no one knows if you can't or won't answer him. This one-sided conversation is the punishment for his hubris.

He took out a sharp knife and cut off one of your toes. You no longer feel any pain as you bleed into his hands. What a kind man the doctor is, for he blocked all your pain receptors years ago. It's a good thing you regenerate quickly.

That's what he loved and hated about you.

You only gave and gave.

But you never ran out of soul. You never ran your heart fully dry— and that left you ill. Zandik could never let you go.

You're already a part of him.

Hence, he must not make clones of exaggerated memories. He wanted your perfect yet healthy replica.

Praise be the white corpuscles extracted from your veins which had brought him new life. You were the reason for his research. You were the breath that gave his segments life. You were his muse, much like he was yours.

"Fear not, (Y/n)," he reassured with a measured tone. "Upon my mastery of the arts, I intend to reinstate your autonomy and awareness. Perhaps then, you shall find the organic inclination to reciprocate affection toward me by the 9806's trial. Until then…"

In other words, give him more time and he'll reinvent love.

He leaned his forehead against yours.

"I'm so, so sorry."

And ultimately, he'll reinvent YOU.

"Can I have another piece of your scalp?"

"No."

"Do you not understand the weight of this research or must I expound on it further in another three-hour presentation?"

"Alternatively, you could start by saying that you're sorry," you raised an eyebrow. "I'm still not over the fact you randomly cut a piece of my ear when I was asleep, doctor. You know, I heard from the aranaras that white tulips are given to someone when they ask for forgiveness."

Zandik smirked.

"Regrettably, it seems that such an occurrence is unlikely to transpire. Do not expect such words and gifts from me."

You smiled.

"We'll see, we'll see."

Taglist (pls notify if you wish to be on the taglist for the last two): @average-yandere-enjoyer @pix-stuff @sagekun @vennnnn-diagram @dilucragnidvr @tnsophiaonly @lsleepysimpl

[doki-doki-imagines]

hiii, could you please do mk1 earthrealmers reaction to them trying to put music during spicy time but their s/o keeps getting distracted the whole time by singing/dancing along to every song that they choose, i just thought it could be a funny situation 😅😅

author note: I had to change the prompt a bit because it would have been a bit repetitive. If it's a problem feel free to request again. If you like what I write consider tipping on my new ko-fi!

Johnny Cage: -He prepared a romantic night to the best of his capabilities. Red petals on your bed, dim candlelights to illuminate the room, and a soft and sexy song playing in the background. -But something went wrong when all of sudden, between groans and heavy breaths "Poker face" started to play. -It doesn't stop Johnny from kissing down your neck, lips never leaving your skin. Your head isn't on the same wavelength tho. -You start to hum the song, but Johnny notices just when his lips caress your chest, feeling the vibrations underneath. -"Are you…singing along?" "Maybe? C'mon Johnny, it's impossible not to!" -He smiles, the kind that reaches his eyes and shakes his head before pulling you into his covered lap. Deft fingers working to free himself. -"Are you still in?" "Mh? Yes." You nod, your soft hands on his cheeks. "Perfect sweetheart. Keep singing to your heart's content, let's see how long it will take me to make you reach the highest notes."

Kenshi Takahashi:

-It was your idea to put music on, to try something new.

-Soon you forget about it, Kenshi reducing you to a puddle under his expert hands.

-You are so out of your mind that you don’t notice the songs going from slow and sexy to rhythmic and perfect for dancing.

-But then you notice something is off. His fingers, now in you move…strangely? Kenshi has always been a tease, but trying to avoid your sweet spot for so long it’s becoming tears-inducing, and not the pleasure kind.

-So you start to focus your attention on the movements of his fingers when finally realization hits you.

”Are you trying to keep the rhythm of the song, Kenshi?”

He looks at you, black eyes now full of shame, lips sucked in before nodding.

-He stops moving and a chuckle leaves your lips. You take the back of his head to bring him closer and kiss him.

“Nice sense of the rhythm. Next time I’ll make sure to choose the right songs.”

“I’ll help you with that.”

Kung Lao:

-It’s not the first time you put music on; the walls of his house are pretty thin.

-But usually, you use Lao’s playlist since he can be pretty picky with music.

-But this time he asked to listen to one of yours, curious to discover new songs.

-It’s all going like usual, ‘till you hear Lao humming. Your favorite song is also playing.

“So…you like this song too?”

“Damn, it’s so catchy!”

-You end up karaoke just in your undergarments with Lao.

-Don’t worry, you’ll get back to lovemaking later. After all, everything is more enjoyable if done with a smile.

Raiden:

-You were the one that asked him if you could try to listen to music while doing “it” and Raiden accepted with no problem.

-You made a new playlist trying to add songs Raiden could enjoy.

-Everything goes smoothly, you sit on his lap your tongue dancing with his, while Raiden’s hands travel down your body, caressing and groping.

-Until a song starts, and his movements stop. He is still kissing you, so you don’t notice something is wrong.

-“I’m sorry, I can’t do this.” Raiden pulls you off, annoyance dripping from his face.

“Mh? What is wrong, Rai?”

-“The song that is playing now…we used to sing it with Lao and Fujin when we were kids. It really broke my mood remembering their faces.” He groans out. The face of his best friend the last thing he'd like to remember in these kind of moments.

“You sang such a sexual song when you were kids?”

“You also sang sexual stuff without knowing the real meaning behind the words, right?”

You tilt your head before answering “Well, you have a point.”

-You don’t do any stuff that day, but you decided that it will be Raiden to make the playlist next time.

Liu Kang:

-You know he likes listening to music in his free time, so you think he may enjoy your proposal.

-And he does! Nodding at you with a big smile, a joy that reaches his eyes.

-Mostly because he thinks too that it could be really hot.

-Everything is going as planned, his hot mouth biting your throat while his hands travel from your hips to your back. Until a song starts to play and a sigh, not one born from pleasure, leaves his lips.

-Liu Kang has to sit on the bed. Now sobbing uncontrollably. That song is the one he used to sing with his Kung Lao when they were just kids. When Lao and Raiden became his family.

-You have never seen Liu crying so you worry immediately, asking him what happened, your soft arms hugging his back, trying to calm him down.

-There will be a lot to unpack…

Geras:

-He doesn’t know mortal traditions so he doesn’t mind if you put music.

-And he also doesn’t mind when you start to sing and dance around! But you’ll have to explain to him it’s not some kind of dance to attract the potential partner.

-“Unless…”

“What?”

“Do you find me hot while dancing? Even when I sing so terribly?” You whisper out, your arms around his neck, heads a few inches apart.

“I always find you hot.”

-There is a moment of silence where you’ll look straight into his eyes.

“Come here.”

-Music is soon forgotten in the background.

Bi-Han:

-He is playing his transverse flute when you approach him.

-You reached the level of comfort where Bi-Han feels at ease playing in front of you, and you love it; he really has talent.

-But you decide to spice things up this time.

-You approach him, sliding kisses down his neck while he is still playing the flute, deft fingers opening his uniform, now dropping to the ground.

-“What do you think you’re doing?” He stops, voice rough, but with no bite.

“Just having fun. Keep playing, Grandmaster.” You wink at him, not moving until he starts playing the instrument again.

-And he does, never missing a note even with your warm mouth reaching more arousing parts of his physique. It’s when you drop to your knees that he stops again, his hand now in your hair, pushing you away from his crotch.

-“Now listen to me-“

You tsk, brushing his hand away, confidence dripping from your eyes.

“A snake obeys his charmer only when he plays his flute. Keep doing that Bi-Han.”

-He gulps down loudly. You know that a harsh comeback just died in his throat. He nods at you, his lips back on the instrument.

-Maybe you were the real charmer this time.

Kuai Liang:

-He has to admit that he gets annoyed by your change of mood.

-Liang loves to hear your sounds, so putting music in the background isn’t really his thing but he also thought “Why not try?” It’s not like it was a big no-no for him.

-But now it is. For Liang intimacy is a serious moment and even if he may sneak some jokes once in a while he prefers to keep a more serious atmosphere.

-He gets grumpy so it will take a lot of effort to put a smile on his face. For sure lovemaking is delayed.

-With enough convincing Liang may dance along with you, but don’t force him to sing or he will go back to grumpy.

Tomas Vrbada:

-He smiles when he notices you humming the song, but soon follows you.

-Tomas won’t dance with you, preferring to look at you from his comfortable position on the bed.

-But he will sing! His singing voice is terrible but it’s the feeling that matters.

-At some point, Tomas will get closer to sneak kisses here and there.

-After all, you are dancing just in undergarments; it’s a wonderful sight that makes his blood run awfully quick away from his brain.

-Lovemaking is not delayed, he will pull you toward the bed with him. Just the mood changed, a lot of smiles and playful kisses shared.

[iluvapplesxh]

Annoyingly Cute

Regina George x Fem!Wieners!Reader

Summary: A night at Gretchen's and your house proves that Regina is "shockingly" a really good gf. (set after the events of the 2024 movie)

warnings: I dont think there's any, maybe fluff(?)

“Gretchen!” 

Your shout echoed through the entire house as you poke your head out the  small  aperture on your door. There is a few seconds of silence before the sound of your sister’s voice  was heard from her room down the hall. 

“Ugh, what do you want, Y/n?” You could practically hear her roll her eyes as she speaks, just from the way she answers.

You smirk at the thought a little before responding. “Are the others coming over today?” You shout with a bigger smile on your face. 

Gretchen, currently sitting by her dressing table touching up the smallest flaws of her makeup, sighs. She already knows how this is gonna go. Taking a deep breath, she shouts back. “Yeah, yes they are”

“Okay” You excitedly shout back and giggle, closing the door. You walk over to your wardrobe and rummage through your somewhat neatly folded clothes, looking for an outfit which would make you look cute but would also make you be the perfect eye-candy for your girlfriend of 2 months, Regina George.

As you were doing so, something at the very bottom of your wardrobe caught your eye. “AHA” You exclaim as you quickly reach down to pick it up, once you do, you hold it up in front of yourself while smiling. It was a light-shaded pink hoodie which you stole from Regina at one of her parties back when you guys weren’t together. Although it might seem creepy-it kinda is-, Regina has been aware of it for a while now.

Now all that is left to do, is to find a pair of pants, do a very light makeup, do your hair and you’re done. But of course, everything feels better to do with music, so naturally you turned on your TV and opened Spotify on it, playing your Liked Songs playlist.

After you’re done with all that, you look into the full length mirror which is  propped up against the wall. You are semi-satisfied with how you look and with that thought you go downstairs to prepare snacks for your sister’s friends and of course your girlfriend. 

After about an hour of restlessly sitting in front of the TV in the living room, you finally hear the doorbell ring which makes you jump right up darting towards the door while shouting “I’ll get it!”. Your hand grips the handle tight and almost rips out the door as you pull it open. When you do so, you’re met with the face of Damian, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Girl, what the hell. You almost ripped the damned door outta its sockeds” He say with a hint of concern in his voice as he looks at you. You just chuckle lightly before standing aside to let them in, as they all come in one by one, your eyes excitedly follow every person, impatiently wishing to see Regina’s face. But as the last person comes in, she is nowhere to be seen. Your eyebrows furrow and your face contorts to a frown.

“Guys, is Gina not coming today?” You ask, trying to hide the sadness in your voice. You see Cady open her mouth to speak but before she could, a voice speaks from the doorstep-as you are still standing in the doorway with the front door wide open. 

“Ahw, did someone miss me that much?” Regina teases with a giggle as she steps next to you. Your head whips to the side so fast, the others get worried you might have gotten whiplash. 

“Gina” You all but scream and jump into her arms just as fast. She is quick to catch you and chuckles as she places her head on top of yours before making eye-contact with a group of smirking friends. Her ears grow hot as she slowly peels you off of herself and smiles down at you. 

“Hi, baby” She whispers so the others don’t hear the nickname-which she could be teased for later-.

“Hey, Gina” You smile back before looking behind you and seeing the others staring at you two. You immediately take a step back with a blush coming up your neck while clearing your throat. You turn on your heels to face the others-it seems that your sister has already come down to join them-. “So uhm, I made snacks..”

“OOOH, snacks!” Karen exclaims excitedly and claps her hands, already making her way to the kitchen with the rest of the group trailing behind her. And just in a couple of seconds it’s just you and Regina.

“Sorry for jumping on you like that. I know you don't like the others teasing you about it” You say, scratching the back of your neck nervously, the top of your headphones which were around your neck bumping into your hand in the meantime. Regina shakes her head at what you say.

“No, it..it’s okay. It’s just a little awkward” You nod your head in understanding. Then she scoffs and cups your cheeks with both her hands, pulling you roughly into a soft, passionate kiss. “I guess…I missed you too, Nerd.” She mumbles into the kiss, her breath hot on your lips. Your heart is hammering in your chest as your blush deepens and you tilt your head up a little to sneak another kiss from her before completely pulling away with a sigh.

After a while you went up to your room, because you wanted to leave the group of friends which you weren’t a part of to have a nice night together-although it was very hard convincing Regina to not yank you down onto her lap while they were choosing the film they were gonna watch-. Anyway, in your room you just decided to sit down at your PC and play some Sims 4 to keep yourself busy when you got too bored. And it helped for a while until you got bored of that too, so you look at the time and realise it was already 19:00. You decide to shower now so you don't have to wait out all the other people in the house, because even if they say it's not a sleepover, it will definitely turn into one.

After the shower you decide to go downstairs to the kitchen. When you arrive, you walk up to the fridge and smile to yourself when you glance at the tray of RedBulls in the fridge. You scoop it up in your arms and quickly but quietly sneak into your room, only to realise you’ve put your phone down on the kitchen counter.

With a deep sigh, you walk back downstairs, but before you reach the kitchen, you are stopped by a voice while walking past the living room. “Y/n!”

You turn towards the living room and see your girlfriend walking up to you, and it’s only when you’re face-to-face that she talks again. “Y/n”

Your eyebrows raise in confusion as you look up at her, tilting your head to the side. “Yeah…?”

“You know, in the span of the 4 hours we’ve been here, the only time I've seen you come down was like 2 minutes ago, and you were carrying a crate of RedBulls.”She gives you a stern look, while placing a hand on her hip.You swallow hard and give her a half-confused look, because you already have an idea or two of what this could be about. “Mind telling me, when did you have dinner?”

“Uh, well you know…before you guys came” You offer a light-hearted smile.

“Nuh-uh. Even if you did, you should already have eaten something since” She squints her eyes at you.

“I'm just-I'm not hungry”

Regina only rolls her eyes at that and grabs onto your arm, pulling you towards the kitchen, then sitting you down on a chair by the dining table. “Stay here, I'm making you waffles, ‘kay?” Her voice is so soft, any other person would think it’s a whole other person, but no. It’s Regina George. Your Regina George. You nod softly at her and within 30 minutes, the waffles are done. Regina walks over to you and places  a plate of waffles soaked in whipped cream with small bits of strawberries on top, alongside with a glass of milk.

“Gina- “ You are about to complain about eating alone, but then Regina sits down in front of you with two forks in her hand, handing you one. Regina then cuts a piece with her fork and puts it in her mouth while you stare at her.

“What? You want me to eat it all?” She comments after swallowing the bite, to which you shake your head and stick your own fork into the waffles, cutting a piece. Before putting the bite into your mouth you speak up. 

“Why..are you doing this?”

Regina gives you a weird look before getting another piece. “Because you’re my girlfriend, and I love you and I know what you’re going through. Duh.” The three word phrase rolls off her tongue so perfectly you almost miss it but when you don't, your cheeks heat up.

“I- uh.. I love you too!” You say, smiling from ear to ear as you place a small kiss on her cheek which has already begun to redden when she realised what she had said.

Bonus: As the group of friends watch the interaction from the living room, Gretchen suddenly speaks up; “You know, she is actually not that bad of a girlfriend.” The others look at her and there is a second of silence before Damian speaks up. “Girl, that’s what I was saying!”

A/N: hellooo, my first fic on here, its kinda shitty but i enjoyed writing it very much sooo yeah.

[adrienneleclerc]

girl! I love everything you write! I have a tiny request if possible, what would you thing about wrote a scenario/reaction of Charles at a concert by his Latina girlfriend with some of the guys from the grill? Something like the first time seen her on the stage 🙈 ily

Ooh I love that!!! Like always, I’ll be using Becky G as a face claim for the header, I love you too! I am so glad you like what I write, sometimes I’m not too sure about some of the fics I post but I really am glad you like them. And his Latina girlfriend doesn’t know Charles will be there either!

Superstar

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: Charles is dating the Latin superstar, Y/N L/N, and he finally sees her on stage.

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors

A/N: hope y’all like It, I believe the header look PERFECT for this, I know I always use Becky G but I fucking love her, what you gonna do?

Charles and Y/N were by far the most loved couple on the grid, their outfits were always coordinated for media day, whenever Y/N has a new song released, Charles will post about it, Y/N music videos will always have Charles somewhere in the background, something of his in the background, or as her love interest in the video, they were so supportive of each other. However, Charles has never seen her perform live, he has never been to one of her concerts at all.

Y/N was currently in the Rose Bowl Stadium, backstage, doing her makeup and doing a wardrobe check. The white cargo pants and crop top looks good, her hair was styled perfectly, and she got her phone so she could call Charles before performing. However, what she didn’t know, was that Charles was somewhere in the Rose Bowl with Carlos, Lando, Lewis, Pierre, and Oscar.

“Can’t believe we drove down here.” Pierre said, moving through the crowd. “Can’t you just wait until your girlfriend does a European tour? And why do you have roses?” Pierre asks

“I haven’t seen her in 2 weeks, this is her first full headline tour, my girl deserves her flowers. Plus, who knows if I’ll be free when she’ll have a European tour.” Charles said.

“I am excited, look many fans Y/N has.” Lando said,

“Yeah, she’s very popu…” Charles started saying but the crowd started screaming, he saw a spotlight, and that’s when he saw Y/N in her performance outfit, she was glowing, waving at the audience.

“Como están, Pasadena?!?” Y/N asked the crowd, they cheered “If you do not know who I am, my name is Y/N, and this is my first stop in my US tour! Now let’s get this concerted! I mean it’s reason why you’re all here.” The track ‘Arranca’ started playing, Y/N was dancing, singing, interacting with the crowd, Charles watched in awe and Carlos sang along,

“You know the song?” Lewis asked the Spanish man.

“It’s on my playlist, cabrón.” Carlos answered, making Lewis laugh. Charles pulled out his phone to record her. The song finished after a minute.

“Now as you guys may know, I have a boyfriend.” Y/N said and the crowd started cheering. “He’s a few years older than me, as all Latino parents, they’re a little concerned, but I told them que a mí me gustan mayores.”

The crowd went crazy as the song ‘Mayores’ began to play, the song went along as normal until the second verse. “Si él supiera que en mi mente yo solo quiero a uno, dice que en la mañana me quiere de desayuno, como él ninguno, dura más que uno de 21, él se pone para todas mis locuras, sabe que a mi me tiene segura, no quiero un Romeo, no quiero aventura, Daddy Yankee sabe que estoy dura, me resuelve siempre 24/7, pa él me quedan de más los juguetes, me da todo nuevo del paquete, difícil que con él tú te compares, mejor vete.” And everyone SCREAMED, Carlos laughed and put his hands on Charles’s shoulders, shaking him. If he knew that I only want one person on my mind, he says he wants to have me for breakfast, there’s no guy like him, he lasts longer than a 21 year old. He’s down for whatever, my ride or die, he knows I’m his, I don’t want a Romeo, I don’t want adventure, Daddy Yankee knows I’m bad, he’s ready 24/7 (like if Y/N wants sex, Charles is DOWN), there’s no need for toys when I’m with him, everything he gives me is brand new, it’s difficult if you think you can compare to him, you better leave.

“Wow, cabrón, didn’t know you had it in you.” Carlos said.

“I really gotta learn Spanish.” Charles said.

“Yes you do.” Carlos replies.

After like 28 songs, the concert finished.

“Thank you so much, Pasadena, you have been a great audience, I’ll see you next time!” Y/N said. Once the lights turned on, Charles said goodbye by to the boys.

“Hey, I’m gonna see Y/N backstage, I’ll meet you guys later.” Charles said.

“Yeah sure, we’ll be in the cars.” Pierre said.

While Charles went to one of the security guards, the boys got out of the stadium singing one of Y/N’s songs.

“Ahora tengo novio nuevo que me hace ram Pam Pam Pam Pam.” They sang.

“Don’t know Spanish, but her songs are so good!” Oscar exclaimed.

“Yes they are, we should go to more concerts actually.” Lewis said.

Charles got escorted to Y/N’s dressing room and knocked on the door.

“Come in!” Y/N said and she turned around, seeing Charles holding flowers. “Muñeco!” Y/N said, getting up to hug him, Charles hugged her back hard, rubbing her back. She pulled away. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in Las Vegas? Isn’t your flight back to Monaco tomorrow?”

“I came to see you, I never saw you perform before, you were amazing. The crowd loved you, Carlos was singing along, I think Lewis, Pierre, Lando, and Oscar became fans…” Charles said.

“Wait, the 6 of you drove down here to see me?” Y/N asked.

“Of course. Well, Pierre and Lewis drove the cars.” Charles admitted.

“Well I’m glad they liked the show.” Y/N said.

Liked by yourusername and 2,726,566 others

charles_leclerc went to see my girlfriend perform last night and she was amazing! Couldn’t be more proud of her for her first headline tour at 21 years old. She is talented and I finally got to see her perform for the first time ever. I love you, mon coeur 😘❤️

View all 10,291 comments

yourusername loved the surprise, muñeco! I love you too, I expect to see you at more concerts from now on

carlossainz55 i have your songs stuck in head now

yourusername as you should!

landonorris best concert I’ve been to in a long time, glad I went with you

oscarpiastri thank you for inviting me, dad

lewishamilton big fan of her music, Roscoe is loving it too

pierregasly i already added some of her songs to my playlist

y/n_Queen love that the grid became fans of her, so cute 🥰

user39 Charles is giving “male wife” and I love it!

user18 will we be getting more Y/N songs on the F1 playlist 😱

The End

Hope y’all liked it! It’s a little short but I think it turned out well

[unorthodoxfaithxx]

Soft Yandere Simp with CamGirl Reader, part 2

3, 2, 1, FINALLY IT’S TIME! He can hardly contain himself as he counts down the days until he finally gets to meet you in person. 

During your nightly video chats with him, which he’s grown to cherish dearly, you brought the idea of meeting up to his attention. You have no idea how happy he was that you brought it up on your own accord! 

Through some shady research, he already knows you are about 3 hours away from his home-city. It wouldn’t hurt to drive your way. He’d row a damn boat for hours if it meant getting to see you in person. 

The two of you decide on meeting up for a picnic, and then a shopping date at the mall closest to your vicinity. 

The night before the designated meetup, he sits at his computer desk studying everything he had learned about you over the past couple of months, lest he forgets something important.

He wishes he had a perfect memory, but he doesn’t. So he opted to writing down every fact he had ever learned about you in a special journal, dedicated to you and only you. All your likes, dislikes, blood type, height, weight (all three of which he had to break into your medical records to find) , favorite games, health issues, the amount of freckles on your face—every little detail he knew about you was written down, along with many, MANY hearts and grade-school doodles because he really can’t help it. You make him feel like a giddy kid again. 

Saturday morning. It’s show-time. He leaves thirty minutes early, dressed up and ready to tackle the day and meet the love of his life for the first time. He shoots you a text when he arrives (Did he ever mention his background screen was a photo of you?), nervously standing at your doorstep with a box of your favorite chocolates in hand, as well as a little vase with succulents in it, since you’re allergic to the pollen in actual flowers. 

You greet him with a hug and he just about melts in your arms, taking in your scent and rubbing his face into your beautiful locks. 

You’re pretty on camera, but nothing beats the real thing. You’re simply a goddess in the human form. He wishes he could take a photo to capture this moment forever, but his eyes will have to make do.

The drive to the park is an awkwardly quiet, but serene one. He swears you might be able to hear his heart pounding the entire ride, despite the music playing in the background (a playlist he made dedicated to you, obviously). When he glances over to the passenger seat, you’re gazing out the window with the cutest little smile on your face. He’s happy you’re happy. 

When the two of you arrive, he opens the trunk and removes all the supplies he brought to ensure today’s picnic would be great. He brought a giant blanket for the occasion, a small speaker for music, and even packed sandwiches and cookies that he had made himself, praying to god they would taste good. He wasn’t the greatest cook, so he watched about five different baking videos on how to make the perfect cookies. He hopes Youtube hasn’t failed him yet. 

He silently thanks whatever god lives in the sky when you take a bite into a cookie and compliment his baking skills. You take another bite and moan, making him feel ten times hotter than the warm spring day already made him feel. 

30 minutes pass and both his and your bellies are full. You lay down on the blanket, inviting him to do the same, and he nervously lays next to you. He relaxes once you intertwine your fingers with his. He thinks he’s never felt more at peace than in this moment, relaxing with you. The two of you talk about random things, watching the clouds in the sky morph into various shapes as time passes. 

Eventually, you both pack up and head to the mall. You buy him a figure from his favorite video game, and he gets you a new set of earrings. You laugh when his face turns fully red as you two walk into a store specializing in lingerie. 

He feels like he might faint from the sheer intense feelings he has when you ask him to pick something out, ‘just for his eyes only’ you say with a whisper into his ear. 

If he didn’t have such good self control he’d bang you in the try-on rooms right then and there. But no. He’d be a gentlemen. 

But be prepared for all his pent up longing when you two finally share an intimate time together. Let’s just say he has…plenty in store for you :) 

The date ends with you being dropped off back home. You invite him in for a drink, and chat a little more before it becomes late. He finds your yawns adorable, and he kisses you on the forehead before heading out for the night. 

He sincerely hopes you don’t ever find the tracking device he’s planted in your purse when you weren’t looking. He convinces himself it’s for peace of mind since he’ll know where you are, whenever you are. To protect you. That’s what good boyfriends do, right? 

Wait. Are you two even dating now? 

He wants to pull over on the drive home and just sit in utter defeat because his dumbass totally forgot to ask this. 

He sighs as he asks the dumbest, most cliche question in the world. He shoots you a text. 

“Hey, Y/N. What are we? (｀・ω・´)”

[yeoja-dream]

1+1=3

Pairing: Minsung x reader, jisung and leeknow x reader, leeknow x jisung Genre: Smut with light plot, AU, light fluff, comfort Characters: Han Jisung, LeeKnow/Lee Minho, Fem!Reader Content Warning: dom/sub dynamics, unprotected sex, dollification, praise, degradation, safe word use with after care Word Count: 6.5k

It had been a stressful week between work and school, and you drummed your fingers on your steering wheel in anticipation as you traveled to your boyfriend’s house for the weekend. Between your mutually busy schedules, you had to survive the week with random and scant flirty messages, cat pics, and 15-minute FaceTime calls, and it certainly was not enough. 

The city traffic finally relented, and finally, you found yourself in front of the apartment of your boyfriend, Lee Minho. Punching in the door code, you let yourself in. The apartment was modest, a two-bedroom place Minho shared with 3 cats and Jisung, his roommate and partner. The main area was an open-concept kitchen and living area that was currently unoccupied, save for Soonie who had jumped up when you entered and had begun brushing against your legs. 

“I’m home!” You called out, bending over to give the cat some attention. You walked further in, removing your shoes, dropping your overnight bag, and plopping on the couch. You had gotten up early to drive over and it was a relief to be here finally.

A few minutes later, Minho padded out barefoot, all messy air and bleary eyes, smiling from ear to ear. 

“Y/N!” He said with as much enthusiasm as his sleepy voice could produce. He extended his arms making a grabbing motion at you to come and hug him. He always acted like a big baby when he first woke up.  

“Hi baby,” You stood up, hugging him tightly, inhaling his comforting scent. “Do not tell me you are just waking up! It’s passed noon!” 

He rubbed his eyes with his palms. “Late night,” He said, voice raspy. 

“I can see that,” You said, looking him up and down. “You must be hungry, go sit and I’ll make something up. I bet Jisung is hungry too.” 

“I can make my own food,” He began to protest. 

“You hush,” You scold him, shooing him to the couch. “I know you can but let me take care of you.” He faux pouted, but he let you push him down as you walked into their shared kitchen. 

For a pair of boys, their kitchen is always well stocked. You put on a playlist of your favorite tunes and get to work. Nothing special you decided, a hearty omelet with some bacon and toast should more than suffice for the two of them. As you began cooking, you found yourself taken by the beat of the music, dancing in place and singing loudly as you mixed and stirred, but still managing to keep one eye out to keep the eggs from burning. 

You didn’t notice the way Minho looked at you, eyes full of amusement and adoration. You also didn’t notice when Jisung woke from his mid-day slumber. You noticed him very quickly, however, when you turned around and suddenly he was standing over your shoulder, scaring the crap out of you. 

“Jesus christ, Jisung!” You smacked his arm. “You scared the crap out of me!” Somewhere on the couch, you heard Minho’s unmistakable laugh. 

“I was just curious what you were cooking! You didn’t answer me when I asked!” He said, holding his hands up defensively. 

“Bacon and eggs,” You said, turning him around and giving him a light push towards the couch. “Go sit with Minho you know I hate having people in the kitchen when I’m cooking.” Jisung shuffled in the direction you pointed him mumbling something in acceptance as you got back to work. 

Han Jisung was the other partner of your boyfriend. The two had met and started dating long before you met Minho, since high school if Minho was to be believed. The pair lived together, worked together, and spent almost every waking moment together. When you had first visited the apartment, you laughed to yourself about the seemingly completely superfluous need for separate bedrooms for a couple that otherwise did everything together. 

You had met Minho 2 years back when you were a freshman in college, he a junior. Initially, you had started off as classmates, and later, friends, bonding over your shared hatred for your dickhead organic chemistry professor and late-night study sessions. His long-term partner was no secret to you, which is what made his confession to you a year after you had met all the more unexpected. Of course, you had slowly found yourself falling for him. Outside of his sarcastic, cool, no-fun exterior was a man on the inside who was brilliantly witty, felt deeply, and had intense passion and empathy for the things and people he loved. You had also, however, resolved to keep your feelings to yourself and made peace with the fact that the two of you as a couple would never be. 

It was in the music room late one night. Despite it not being related to your major, Minho had convinced you to take a music theory class so he could share the thing that he loved with you. You had asked him to meet you and help you prepare for a listening exam, but the two of you spent two hours talking and goofing off on the piano. As the night was winding down and you were getting ready to go back to your dorm, he stopped you and confessed to you. He told you about his feelings, how he found himself attracted to you, how he adored the way you snorted when you laughed really hard, how he loved your passion for your field, how caring and considerate you were, and how he had hoped you felt the same way. 

To say it caught you off guard would be an understatement. Of course, the feelings were mutual, but his relationship with Jisung made things complicated. You had met Jisung, befriended him. You had been to their home, you saw how they interacted, how they seemed to be made for each other, and you wondered how you could possibly fit into that. 

In the following days, you talked a lot with Minho about what being together would look like. About needs and boundaries, about communication and jealousy. You’d take it slow, you both agreed and from that day on, you had become a couple. 

In the year or so that had passed since then, you had grown a lot as a couple. Of course, it helped that you had grown a close relationship with Jisung as well. He was cute, super silly but an insanely deep thinker and wise far beyond his years. On nights Minho was gone, the two of you would spend hours making silly songs and then singing them in ridiculous voices, playing board games, and talking about the bigger, scarier things in life. He had become your closest friend and confidant, and slowly, your worries about feeling like an outsider in your own relationship dissipated as you realized that love was not a finite commodity. Your worries about fracturing the close relationship between the pair relaxed too as it had become clear that being with you was not a sacrifice, and more often than not, involved doing whatever they were doing anyways but including you. 

The rules your relationship had been built on in the last few months, however, had become steadily more and more shaky. Originally, you and Jisung agreed to be purely platonic friends. You were limited and respectful with each other about physical intimacy, even keeping acts like hugs quick and on rare occasions. It was then also agreed, naturally, that there would be no acts of intimacy as a group. Slowly, however, those strict boundaries seemed to loosen and a comfortable, non-sexual intimacy had blossomed between both you and Jisung, and the three of you as a group. Jisung gave amazing hugs, and cuddle piles on Minho’s bed while you all watched Netflix were simply heaven. It was from the dissolution of those boundaries that you found yourself torn. In the privacy of your own mind, you could admit that you had developed a crush on Jisung. Some nights when the three of you were cozy in bed, you found yourself needing to resist the urge to plant a kiss on Jisung’s cute, sleepy face as you would run your fingers through his hair absent-mindedly. On the other hand, your dynamic was good, great even. Minho spoiled you. He loved you in a quieter way, preferring to silently send you DoorDash from your favorite restaurant on really hard days or be an attentive ear when you needed to get something off your chest. He was the type to keep a list of things you love on his phone, places, things, experiences, anything you had exclaimed you loved he wrote down. When you first caught him doing so, you called him on it and he told you simply that he wanted you to have everything, the world if you so desired, and that he would give it to you. You loved him too, and you would love him for as long as he would let you. It felt wrong, selfish even, to ask for more. For you, Minho was more than enough. 

You slid two identical plates piled high with omelet, bacon, toast, and some home fries you had found in the back of the freezer. 

“Food’s done!” You said in a sing-songy voice before turning to head back to the kitchen to clean up. Before you could, however, Minho had gotten up and in a flash, positioned himself between you and the sink, his arms crossed. 

“Every time you cook we do the same thing,” He scolded. “When have either of us let you clean after you cook for us?” 

“Fine,” you sighed dramatically. You filled a small bowl with the remaining home fries and plopped down to join the boys at the breakfast table. 

Conversation was light over what was, at that time, ostensibly lunch, rather than breakfast. And, despite immense protest from you, the boys cleaned up after your cooking mess with relative efficiency. 

It was a beautiful, tepid day outside, and the three of you agreed to head to the local park where you spent hours appreciating the weather, nature, and each other’s company. Before long, it was time for dinner. You all went back and forth, bickering about dinner options, and finally, just decided to order a pizza. You had a long-standing tradition, dating back to your first official date with Minho. The two of you couldn’t agree on what to have for dinner, finally settling on pizza and agreeing that no one could dislike pizza. From then on when you couldn’t agree on dinner, you’d order a pizza. 

The pizza was enjoyed and eaten on the couch, yet another inane reality dating show with a bizarre twist on the TV to act as conversation fodder. After the episode's conclusion, ever the cat-fanatic, Minho turned on the Playstation and you and Jisung watched him play Stray, the two of you mostly pointing to things in the environment and commanding him to investigate, much to Minho’s playful dismay. 

As the night wound down, the three of you decided to call it a night, Jisung heading to his room, you and Minho heading off to his. You had already changed into your sleepwear, an oversized t-shirt and panties, when you slipped into bed next to Minho, who was already in bed, passively scrolling on his phone. You slid your arm across his torso, pulling yourself towards him and resting your head on his shoulder. From this angle, you were able to see his phone clearly, growing bored immediately as you realize he was browsing the specifications of different audio controllers. Quickly, your mind filled with ulterior motives. After the stressful week you had, you wanted nothing more to be filled and pounded into a quivering, babbling mess by your boyfriend. The mental image alone had your stomach doing backflips. 

Taking initiative, you tuned your head to the side and began kissing his neck. Minho continued his scrolling, not reacting, so you went further, licking and sucking the sensitive skin gently. That too, elicited no response. In return, you rolled over in a huff, turning your back to him, and pulling the covers up high. At your antics, Minho chuckled deep and low. 

“Did you want something from me?” He asked nonchalantly. 

You sighed deeply again. “Do I really need to spell it out?” You retorted.

“Ah, but what am I always telling you about using your words?” He asked. With your back still turned, you heard the singular knock of his phone as he placed it on the nightstand followed by the crinkling of the bed sheets as he rolled over towards you, spooning your body with his. Almost directly into your ear this time, he speaks again. “What is it exactly that you wanted, lovely?” 

You weighed briefly weighed your feigned offense versus the growing ache in your core in your mind. You could continue to pout, but you knew damn well he wouldn’t lay a finger on you until you acquiesced to his demands. 

“Your cock,” You mumbled. 

“Mhm,” He said approvingly, running his hand up and down your arm. “And what is it you want me to do with my cock?” 

“Fuck me,” You arched your back, hoping to grind your ass against his member. “Please,” You added. 

He chucked again, placing a few light kisses on your shoulder blade. “Someone is needy,” He commented, his tone amused. Suddenly, however, he pulled away from you and you felt the bed shift as he stood. You sat up now, facing him directly as he stood now in the middle of the room. 

“Truthfully,” He began, “I was going to get you warmed up before I went through with tonight’s plan but, I think it will be more fun this way.” He said, turning on a heel and walking out of the room before you could question or protest. Not but 60 seconds later he returned, a very confused Jisung in tow.

“Go sit,” The older boy said, gesturing towards the bed. 

With an awkward and jerky gait, Jisung obeyed, sitting on the foot of the bed on the right side, the same side on which you were currently sat. 

“I can see you both are confused, but first, Y/N, what are our safewords?” Minho asked, standing over the two of you. 

“Red, yellow, green,” you reply quickly. “Red stop, yellow slow down and check-in, green good.”

“And Jisungie, what are our safewords?”

“Um, red yellow green. Same system.” He replied, looking off to the side, whether in embarrassment or discomfort, you couldn’t quite discern. 

“Very good.” He purred. “I’m going to take care of you both, but to do that I need to know that you understand you can use those safe words at any time. Can you do that for me?”

Your instinct was to simply nod, but you quickly remember that Minho always asks for verbal confirmation. “Yes,” You said, your confusion continuing to grow. 

“Of course,” Jisung confirmed. 

“Excellent,” Minho said, wordlessly prowling around to the left side of the bed. He climbed in, sliding himself into a seated position with his back against the headboard. Remaining in your respective spots, you both orient your bodies to face him as he does so, expectantly waiting explanation of the sudden intrusion. 

“I learned a secret about our Jisungie recently,” Minho cooed, looking first at the younger boy, and then at you. 

“Jisung?” You asked, confused. You turned your head to look at him, and as you did so, you watched his eyes go wide with realization. He looked down, burning holes into the sheets with his eyes. Despite realizing whatever Minho was about to confess on his behalf, he didn’t stop him from continuing. 

“Did you know that when I fuck you,” Minho continued, “and you make all of those lovely, desperate, needy sounds?” 

“I, uh, yeah?” You replied, voice squeaky. It was your turn to go red with embarrassment as you pulled your legs in close to your chest, wrapping your arms around them comfortingly. 

“Well, Jisungie has been listening to you beg and moan, stroking his cock and imaging it was his cock you were stretched out over,” Minho said, his expression wolfish. 

The image comes to your mind crystal clear, Jisung splayed wide open, his hand on his cock, his head thrown back in ecstasy, the sounds of your pleasure throwing him over the edge. It sends your heart racing and your stomach somersaulting. 

 “The walls are thin and-” Jisung attempts to defend himself, looking at you desperately searching your face for signs of rejection. Only when he’s sure he finds none does he continue. “You’re so cute and pretty and nice, Y/N, and listening to how good Hyung was making you feel made me imagine the two of you and suddenly I uh,” He paused finding the word. “Needed to relieve myself. I’m sorry that’s probably really weird of me. I know I shouldn’t have been listening I’m sorry once I started it was hard to stop and I feel really strongly for you Y/N in maybe ways a friend shouldn’t feel and…” He rambled on. 

Was he confessing to you? You asked yourself. “Jisung,” You addressed him directly, cutting off his apologetic word vomit. “Are you saying you like like me?” 

“Yeah?” His voice was squeaky, unsure, not of his feelings, but of your reaction. 

“I like like you, too,” You blurted, relieved. “I have for a little while,” you confessed. 

“Me too!” Jisung said in complete shock. 

“I do love it when my loves get along,” Minho spoke up. “But I know another secret about Jisung.” 

Whatever it was it couldn’t have been as much as a bombshell as the first. Even Jisung looked at him with an eyebrow quirked. 

“Jisung has never been with a woman,” He stated. “He sucks my cock beautifully and on occasion fucks me pretty thoroughly too, but I thought we could teach Jisung how to make you make all those lovely sounds you make for me, how does that sound, beautiful?” 

“G-Good,” You said, your voice dry. 

“Good,” Minho dawled. “Jisungie?” 

“Please,” He said, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“Good,” He purred again. “Good boys and girls who listen well get to cum, but those who can’t listen get punished, understand?” 

“Yes,” The two of you responded. 

“You are both so good at using your words, let's keep that up.” He stated, looking at the two of you. “Y/N, why don’t you kiss Jisung?” 

Wordlessly, you unwrapped yourself and crawled to the foot of the bed where Jisung was still seated. He turned his whole body to face you, and as you brought your face in close to his, you paused just millimeters away, teasing him for just a moment before closing the distance. 

Your lips gently met his, soft, plump, and full of nervous energy. It’s cute, you decided, taking the lead and kissing him again but harder. Jisung matches your energy, and despite his nerves to be kissing you , you quickly realize he is not an inexperienced kisser. As the kiss heats up in passion and intensity, he follows. You both used your tongues sparingly but tactfully, excitedly exploring and experiencing one another. Through it all you both manage to keep your hands off one another, not having been given permission to touch. 

“You may touch,” Minho finally allowed after what felt like an eternity. 

Jisung was sat cross-legged on the bed, and you were still on your hands and knees facing him. With Minho’s verbal permission granted, you parted briefly only to climb into his lap facing him, legs fully straddling his waist. In this position, you could press your chest against his chest, and your dampening core against the tent in his pajama pants. The increased contact made you both more heated, feverish. At first, your hands were wild running over his arms, then his chest, then his back. His body was lithe, all corded in lean musculature, you marveled at how toned he felt under your fingertips despite his thin frame. At the same time, Jisung’s hands explored your bodily readily, starting in the safe places, rubbing first your arms, then your back and sides, before coming around to cup a breast. Using his thumb, he drew lazy circles around your nipple, the sensation causing you to sigh with satisfaction. You kissed again, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck and crushing your chest against his. He wrapped his arms around low around your waist, using the leverage to rhythmically rock you against his core. The contact was relatively minimal considering the two layers of clothes in between, but the sensation was already causing him to blush and pant. 

“Fucking gorgeous,” Minho approved from behind you. Before things could go too much further, however, he called your name, interrupting. “Y/N, Come sit, back to me,” He instructed, patting the space on the bed in between his parted legs. 

You do as you are told, your back resting against his chest in a reclined seated position. 

“Arms up,” Minho again commanded. As you comply, he lifts your oversized t-shirt up and over your head, leaving you completely exposed except for your panties. Jisung stared, his eyes transfixed and hungry. He didn’t dare move. The attention makes you shy, but you know better than to cover up.

“Give me a color, sweetness,” He asked you directly. 

“Green,” You breathed. 

“Jisung?” 

“Huh? Oh, super green.” He said, blinking hard, clearing something from his mind. 

“I am also green,” Minho confirmed. “Now for this part, my love, all I need you to do is be a perfect little doll for Jisungie, remember we are teaching him how to make you feel good. You can make all the noises you’d like but you may not move, guide him, or if he does a good enough job, cum until I allow you, do you understand?” 

“Yes,” You breathed. 

“Yes, what?” He asked you again. 

“Yes, sir .” You added. 

Seemingly satisfied, he turned his attention to Jisung. 

“Jisung aren’t Y/N’s tits gorgeous?” Minho asked, reaching around and taking both breasts in his hands as if presenting them to him. You sighed at the warmth of his palms. 

“Yeah-” Jisung agreed, his voice hoarse. 

“The thing is, her nipples are pretty sensitive,” He began, shifting his hand placement slightly to trap your nipples between his thumb and forefingers, applying minimal pressure. “So the first way to make her make those noises you love is like this,” He punctuated his sentence by increasing the pressure of his fingers, rolling the sensitive skin in between. The sensation catches you off guard and you squeak in surprise, but ultimately relax and moan quietly at the feeling. 

“Come play with her tits,” Minho invited, dropping both breasts. You watch Jisung almost fall over himself scrambling to make his way over to you. He kissed you first, briefly, however as he moved on to peppering shorter kisses down your jaw and neck, all the way down to your chest. He took one breast in his hand, repeating the light rolling motion the older man had shown him, but with the other breast, he enveloped the nipple with his mouth, licking and sucking with eagerness. After a few minutes, he switched, showing the opposite side the same attention. You groaned at the feeling, letting your head relax back against Minho’s chest. 

“Good boy,” Minho praised. “But look,” 

The command made Jisung drop his hands and pull away, waiting to hear what exactly he was meant to be looking at. 

“Her panties are soaked, do you know what that means?” 

“I’m doing a good job?” Jisung replied tentatively. 

“Precisely,” Minho cooed. “Hips up,” He addressed you now. You do so without hesitation. “Take her panties off,” He spoke again to Jisung. 

Jisung pulled back a bit, giving himself a bit more room to hook his thumbs around the fabric and pull it down and off, discarding it somewhere on the floor. Minho then grabbed both of your legs one by one, lifting them up and out, placing them on the outside of his legs. From this position, even if you wanted to close your legs, you would be entirely blocked from doing so by Minho’s legs. In this position, you were pinned wide open for Jisung to see and appreciate, and appreciate Jisung indeed did. He stared at your dripping core like a man starved, and it was making you dizzy with desire. 

Minho reached down, using one hand to part your folds and the other to find the bundle of nerves. He does so quickly and easily, drawing painfully slow circles around the area. You want to protest, to beg for more, but you know better. 

“Got you are fucking soaked,” Minho groaned into your ear before addressing Jisung again. “This is the clit, if you want to make Y/N cum, this spot is really important.” He withdrew his finger and moved it lower, dipping it into your core. “Down here is her pussy. When you finger her, curve your fingers like this,” He demonstrated, lazily pumping a single curved finger in and out of your entrance. Your nerves are on fire , and even with one, unenthusiastic finger, you find yourself clenching around his finger and groaning, mentally screaming for more. Minho laughs darkly at you, “Ah, you just wait you haven’t earned it yet.” He looked up at Jisung, “The G-spot is what you’re aiming for, it's the spot on top that feels a little different than the rest.” With that, he withdrew both of his hands. “Jisungie, you suck my cock so well, why don’t you try eating Y/N out? You’ll know you’re doing it right by her reaction. Once you find it though, don’t stop.” 

A new wave of nerves clearly hits Jisung as he is now completely out of his element. Making out and sucking nipples was easy, everyone had them. Slowly he lowered himself, positioning himself comfortably between your legs. He parted your folds gingerly, and after taking a calming breath, stuck his tongue out exploratively. He took to your clit quickly, but his movements were decidedly slow. He took his time mapping and exploring, memorizing the points that made you gasp and jerk. Once he had found the best spot, he built up a shocking and punishing pace with his tongue, one that had your back arching against Minho’s chest. 

“Ah, fuCK-” You gasped, your hands white-knuckled in the sheets.

“Give her two fingers,” Minho instructed. Without breaking tempo, Jisung slid two fingers in, rocking them into you at a slow, deliberate, tempo, dragging his fingertips against the nerves of your g-spot, making you clench tight around them. The juxtaposition between his fingers and his mouth was divine, putting your full focus on pushing down the growing tightness in your core. You make the mistake, however, of looking down, the sinful sight of Jisung’s pretty face buried between your thighs and the wet, squelching sounds of your pussy greedily milking his fingers combined suddenly bring you much closer to the edge than you expected, in serious danger of careening off the edge without permission. 

“I- ah- cum! Please!” Was all you managed to get out. 

“Ah but princess, I wanted you to cum all over Jisung’s pretty cock, don’t tell me you’re gonna cum now.” 

“I can- fUCK, I can go twice,” You offer up, anything to negotiate your release. 

“Hmm,” He paused, thinking to himself. 

Think faster! You thought to yourself. 

“It’s a special day and I’m feeling generous, you can go ahead and cum baby but you still have to show Jisungie how pretty you are when you’re making a mess all over his cock.” He drawled, brushing a stray hair from your face and planting a kiss on your temple. 

With permission granted, and no more than 3 more pumps of Jisung’s fingers, you are coming, eyes closed head back, arched back, shaking and cussing through the shock waves. Jisung removes his fingers and backs off of you, and you allow yourself to fall back onto Minho, eyes closed, chest heaving as you recover. There are several seconds of silence followed by the sound of something wet, and when you open your eyes, you look up and instantly, you feel your core reignite at the sight. 

They were kissing , sloppily and messily, the shine of your slick still wet on Jisung’s lips. Minho, with his only free hand, palmed the boy’s erection through his pants while he whimpered, his arms dangling at his sides. The sight was beautiful and dirty and made your toes curl with desire. 

Minho gave Jisung a light push, pulling away from the younger boy. “I should punish you for moving without permission, but you still have another job to do, so I will let it slide. Clothes off,” He commanded. 

Jisung wordlessly obeyed, and while doing so, Minho sat you forward slightly, giving him room to peel off his own shirt and adjust your positioning. 

“He’s going fuck you really good baby, but this angle doesn’t quite work. Just lay here and enjoy I’m going to be right beside you appreciating the view.” He said, picking up your hand and placing a kiss on the knuckle. You do as he says, and after a minute, Jisung returns, giving you the chance to drink in his naked form. 

He wasn’t the tallest man, but damn was he nice and proportional. His cock was thick and flushed a lovely shade of pink at the tip, which was already glistening with precum. 

“Now Y/N does give fantastic head, however, today is about you learning so it’s time to fuck her. A gentleman always lets his lady cum first, so pace yourself. You may only cum after she does, understood?” Minho asked Jisung. 

“Y-Yes,” Jisung said, climbing back on the bed, initially kneeling in front of your feet. He nudged your legs open tentatively, and you complied. He came in closer then, kissing you again. Instinctively, you wrapped both arms around him. This kiss lacked the heat it did before, but this time contained a new, distinct feeling of intense care and passion. It was gentle, loving, sweet, even, and it caused your chest to ache. He was losing his virginity all over again, you realized, and it made you hold him a little closer. He continued to kiss you as you felt his cock probe your folds before sliding it home at last. Instinctively, he threw his head back and groaned, inch by delicious inch, the stretch of your cunt around his cock tip to hilt had you both gasping. 

You wondered for a moment what his plan was, it was obvious to anyone in the room that he was near the edge, and how he planned to make you cum before him and escape punishment piqued your curiosity. You didn’t have to wonder for long. 

He pulled up and away from you a bit, cock still buried deep inside you. He pulled up one of your legs up high, resting it on one of his shoulders. His hands found purchase on the wall and bed frame. This new position was significantly less intimate than the one before but allowed for a much better range of motion. He withdrew from you almost entirely and then snapped forward, the force of which had both your head hitting the headboard and an audible slapping sound as your pelvises collided. He pulled out again, and with the same force slammed into you. His pace was slow but incredibly consistent but hard . Sensitive from coming already, you found yourself gripping the sheets, the coil in your core winding up once again. Jisung was remarkably quiet save for his heavy breathing, his face was serious and his eyebrows were furrowed with concentration. Jisung took his hand off the headboard and snaked it in between your legs, rubbing and circling your clit in the same way Minho had shown him previously. The added sensation had you writhing under him, another orgasm quickly building. Jisung sucked in air through his teeth and groaned as your walls milked his cock, but again and again, he slammed into you. You were getting close, everyone could tell. 

“Cum, baby,” Minho told you again peppering your face with sweet kisses. 

“Please,” Jisung begged, his release painfully close for him. 

You were so close, babbling and begging to no one in particular, and yet you still couldn’t quite crest over that edge. Jisung growled suddenly in frustration, taking his spare hand from the wall and wrapping it around your throat. 

“You’re such a dumb cock slut that you can’t do what you’re fucking told? When you are told to cum, you fucking cum.” Jisung said through gritted teeth, staring daggers through you. He applied no pressure with his hand on your throat, but the sudden shift to dom Jisung sends you careering violently over the edge. Your orgasm ripped through you in waves, made even more intense by the rapid pounding and merciless pounding Jisung was now doing, chasing his own release which too found him momentarily, his head throwing back in ecstasy and filling you thoroughly. 

Jisung pulled out of you, but in a blur, Minho was on top of you, fucking you hard and fast. Oversensitive from having just orgasmed, it was far, far too much, tears beginning to pickle in your eyes.

“Tuh… tuh much…” You babble, rather incoherently. 

Minho continued fucking into you at breakneck speed, but his words were all encouragement, how beautiful you looked, how amazing you did, how good you felt, how close he was, and how good you were making him feel. Regardless, the overstimulation was turning rapidly into pain and you needed a break. 

“Y-Yellow,” You breathed. 

Immediately Minho slowed to a stop, pulling his cock out of you and watching your face carefully. 

“Do we need to stop? You did beautifully, you don’t have to push yourself anymore.” He caressed your face with the back of his hand and brushed away sweat-drenched hair. As overstimulated as you felt with him fucking you, the sensation of his cock pulling out sends you over and a couple of tears actually spill over. 

“No no this will not do,” Minho says wiping away your tears, getting off of you. “Today isn’t a day for tears, come on, let’s draw up a bubble bath and I’ll rub your back with the lavender essential oil.” He starts to get up. 

“No!” you almost shout, grabbing his wrist. 

Jisung, having finally recovered, was a frequent bottom and recognized the exact thing you were currently feeling. He sits back in bed, sitting next to you. He picks up your hand and brings it to his lips. 

“You wanna be good for Minho, huh, kitten?” 

“Yeah,” You said, nodding enthusiastically. 

“You wanna cum for him and make him feel really good, right? Make a mess all over his cock like you did all over mine?” 

“Wanna cum,” you agreed. 

“You have to tell him that, kitten,” Jisung said kissing your face softly. 

“I wanna cum, please. I wanna be good. I wanna make you feel good, too.” You begged Minho. He kissed you softly. 

“You’ve been so good, princess. I’m going to take really good care of you, okay? Lift your hips, please.” As you did so, he slid a pillow underneath, changing the angle so that when he slides back into you, he hit your g spot every single time . The break short was precisely what you needed, and as Minho fucks you again, the oversensitive feeling has already dissipated and the relentless assault on your g-spot brings you rapidly close to yet another orgasm. 

Jisung is at your side now, and as Minho is all sweet nothings and praise, Jisung’s mouth is fucking filthy . “I just filled you up with cum and you still can get enough, huh? One cock isn’t enough, you have to have two, how greedy.” He remarks, his tone patronizing but undercut by the delicate way he holds and kisses you. 

It isn’t long after your third and final orgasm hits you like a semi. Feeling your walls relax and contract around him sends Minho off of his precipice too as he unloads into you. 

Minho rolls off of you and collapses on the bed, silence cut by your heavy breathing settling in as you all recuperate. 

“That… was amazing,” Minho said between breaths. 

“You can say that again.” Jisung agreed. “I’m not a virgin anymore!” 

“You weren’t a virgin before,” Minho pointed out. 

“Well I’m not a virgin again ,” Jisung said with a pout. “I lost it twice.” 

Minho laughed at him. “Y/N was the star of the show.” He said, rubbing your leg and looking at you fondly. “And tell Jisung he can’t be a double non-virgin.” 

“I can’t disagree,” Jisung said, kissing you. “Wait yes I can, to the second thing you said though. Tell him I can so be a double non-virgin!”

You were thoroughly exhausted and still sub-spacy, but you still managed to laugh at the boyish antics of the man in front of you. “Jisung can be whatever he wants to be,” You fake-scolded Minho. “What happened to Dom Jisung?” You asked with a small laugh. 

“Yes!” Jisung celebrated. “Oh, he came and went,” He said with a wink. 

Both you and Minho groaned at that one. 

“In seriousness, I’m sorry that just kind of came out of me, I didn’t expect it myself to be honest! I wish we had talked about it before and I didn’t spring it on you.” 

“You’re probably right that we should have talked about it, but it is alright. Obviously, I ended up responding to it.” You replied with a laugh. “Thanks for not choking me without talking about it first.” 

“Psh,” he blew you off. “What do I look like, some 50 shades of grey Daddy Dom? Even my sudden subconscious dom side knew that!” 

You giggled at him, finally finding the strength to sit up a little bit. Your abs ached, and you were pretty sure your legs had turned to jello. 

“Hey Y/N?” Jisung asked suddenly, his tone much more serious. 

“Yeah, what's up?” 

“If I can be whatever I want, is there I chance I can be your boyfriend?” 

The vulnerability in his tone breaks your fucking heart. “Of course baby, but it’s not just my decision. We’d have to ask Minho too.” You looked at him expectantly. 

“Who me? The two people I love the most also love each other, sound pretty cool to me.” Minho said with a shrug. 

“Then it’s settled, boyfriend .” You said with a wink. 

He tackled you in a hug kissing all over your face. “I’m so happy!” 

You pat him affectionately but push him gently off. “Careful there I’m covered in enough cum as it is you’re getting more on me!” You whined. 

“Oh right, sorry!” He acquiesced. 

A couple beats of silence passed before you spoke up again. 

“So someone said something about a bubble bath?”

_____________________________________

Hi! Thanks for reading and supporting as always, I hope you enjoyed <3

[asterias-record-shop]

Can i have a full song with…ethan landry

dark romance, stalker!ethan, ghostface!kink

Had this idea that reader gets gifts to her apartment and it’s always anonymous, at first it’s cute gifts like flowers, chocolate or custom made playlist but then it starts to get darker like some pictures of her she wasn’t aware of or even things she lost MONTHS ago like panties, jewelry’s….it can even go darker that at some point he just snap and he send her sperm or something and he get her voice messages to confess his love and say he would kill for her (like post murder adrenaline) and one time she gets to her apartment and there’s no gifts because ethan is inside (and he’s basically the gift) and he has his ghostface costume on and maybe he makes a reveal and like he’s giggling and shit and maybe after some smutty scene ? like ugh i’m dying for this

—𓆩[secret admirer]𓆪—

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Ghostface! Stalker! Ethan Landry x Fem! Naive! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - smut, fluff, maybe slight angst?

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 5.1K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - Ethan knew you were the perfect target whenever he met you. Oh you were perfect; beautiful,, sweet, funny, smart… but at the same time, so fucking stupid. He started sending you small things at first, your favorite candy and a CD with music that reminded him of you with a record player, but he needed more. He needed to make you know who he was, he needed you to love him. He couldn’t stay in the shadows anymore, and now that he’s finally sent you the biggest thing ever, he’s ready to reveal who he is - right after his first kill.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - THIS IS A DARK FIC, PLEASE BEWARE! || HEAVY MANIPULATION || READER IS EXTREMELY NAIVE || ETHAN IS VERY MANIPULATIVE || cursing & foul language || reader again is very naive || if i need to explain it, I took Kris from his real last name Kirsh || you both know each other out of this, but it’s not really mentioned until the end || voyeurism kink || toy usage || sleepy-fuck || blindfold || you’re a heavy sleeper now || creampie || cum eating || virginity loss || multiple rounds || raw sex || unprotected sex || creampie || multiple orgasms || dacryphilia || rough fuck ||

It started with a burner phone.

You were confused at first, especially because you had never seen one in real life since you had no use for one, but you kept it. You had thought maybe you could find out who it belonged to, so when it rang, you answered.

“Hi! My name is Y/N, I found this phone on my doormat, are you looking for it?”

Oh, Ethan wanted to laugh. Were you that nice? “No, I’m not… it’s a gift - for you.”

“I’m sorry?” You asked, tilting your head. “What do you mean?”

“It’s a gift… from me, your secret admirer.” Ethan smiled, the voice editor on his end making his voice come out deeper and more playful. With this new secret admirer personality, he could take on a new persona, someone confident and forward that you would fall in love with easily. “Just so I can reach you quicker.”

“Oh,” you say, smiling as you play with the burner phone. “I-I’ve never had one of these before.”

“A burner phone?”

“We-Well that too,” you say, giggling. “I meant… a secret admirer.”

“Oh,” Ethan spoke, smiling. “Well then, I’m glad to be your first.” He knew damn well you had never had a secret admirer, and it made him love it that much more.

“O-Oh… well what do I do now?”

“You take my gifts,” he responded, smiling. “I know you’ll love them, all of them. I think it will be pretty fun too.”

“Well… it won’t get like obsessive, right? Stalker-ish, I mean.” You asked, knowing that it had happened to some women in TV shows.

“Of course not, honey. Everything I send you will be harmless, I promise. I never break a promise.”

You smiled widely, nodding. “Good. I trust you… what should I call you?”

Ethan paused, humming slightly. What could you call him? “You can call me… Kris. With a K.”

“Is that your name?” You ask, tilting your head to the side as you slowly look inside of the box that the burner came in. “Oh, what’s this?”

“No, it’s not. But that’s a Polaroid of you. I know you like them, you can start a little album,” he responds, smiling. “My next gift to you will be an album. So you can keep all of the Polaroids I sent you.”

“I’d like that,” you respond, smiling as your finger goes over the picture of you getting your normal coffee at your favorite shop. “Do you know my coffee order?”

Ethan paused, smiling. Of course he knew your coffee order, he wasn’t stupid, but he didn’t want to seem that stalkery off the bat. “I’ll learn it,” he told you, his hand grazing over the to-go copy cup with your order scrawled on the side. “Get it delivered to you every morning.”

You laughed, biting your lip. “I’ll hold you to that.”

The next few months were amazing, beautiful even. It might’ve gotten a little weird, but Kris assured you that he was just moving your relationship to the next level. You’d never had a secret admirer before, so when he told you that there was nothing to worry about whenever the gifts started getting more intimate, you believed him.

“Kris, are you sure that this is okay?” You asked as he positioned himself on a nearby fire escape in an apartment he was renting. “I don’t… I don’t know if I’m comfortable with this.”

“Hey, don’t you worry about it,” Kris said, smiling as you walked out of the restroom with the lingerie he bought you on show. “I’m not asking you to do anything in it, just try it on… do you have it on?”

“Yeah, I do,” you whisper, staring at yourself in the mirror. It was nice, a beautiful corset lingerie top and some skimpy underwear that actually fit you perfectly because it was the same one you tried on in the store. “H-How did you know I was looking at this one?”

“I think I know you well enough, my love,” Ethan lied, knowing damn well he followed you into the store you went into and watched you grab it before putting it back on the display after trying it on. It was too risky to try and follow you into the dressing rooms. “Does it fit?”

“Y-Yeah…” you whisper, inhaling deeply. “Yeah, it fits perfectly.”

He could tell that it fit perfectly, pushing up your tits and wrapping around your perfect body tightly, your ass on display from the tight g-string. He stared at you as you spin around, watching you check yourself out in your mirror. He loved the way you looked at yourself, confident with that spark in your eye.

“Do you like it?”

“I love it,” you whisper, smiling. “I love it so much.”

“Good,” Ethan smiled, cursing as his alarm went off.

“Kris? Is everything all right?” You asked, his voice getting lower as you heard dinging. “Kris?”

“Yeah, I’m okay darling, just have to go do something,” Ethan responded, shaking his head. “You just take a few pictures for me and send them, got it? I’ll give you another present tomorrow.”

“Oh, okay,” you say, sighing in disappointment before smiling, trying to fake some happiness. “I hope whatever you have to do goes well.”

Ethan smiled, rubbing his hand against his growing bulge as you slowly set down your phone, going to your drawers. He had been in your room before, not that you knew, and always stole your underwear - whether they were the cotton ones or the more skimpy ones - but you opened a drawer and pulled out a book he always ignored that never seemed too interesting. Who would have a book with no title on it?

“Thank you, honey,” he responded, humming. “Just send me those pictures and I’ll call you tonight, okay?”

“Okay,” you say, opening the false book to pull out the silicone vibrator you hid inside of it. “I will. Have a good day, Kris.”

Ethan choked as you pulled out the vibrator, covering his mouth as you looked at the phone you had put on speaker. “Kris? Are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine!” Ethan closed his drooling mouth, shaking his head. “Just send me those pictures, okay my love?”

“Okay, Kris,” you respond, humming. “W-Wait.”

“Yes?” Ethan was getting impatient, already pulling out his cock as he grabbed the Polaroid camera next to him.

“I-I uhm…” you whispered this time, clearing your throat. “I-I’ll miss you.”

Ethan paused, smiling as he slowly pumped his cock. “I’ll miss you too, Y/N. I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Okay.”

Ethan hung up, turning off his alarm that told him to start getting ready for class. At this moment, fuck his professor.

He watched as you slowly laid on the bed, the exposed crotch area of the underwear allowing you to easily slip it up and down your slit.

You gasped, groaning softly as you felt the cold silicone against your clit. It had been a while since you had last used this toy, or any toy for that matter, but that didn’t matter right now. You felt so pretty and desirable in this lingerie, you deserved this.

You gasped as you held the button at the end, whimpering when it started vibrating loudly and with a force you didn’t remember it having. Quickly, you pressed it a few more times to get it to a slower setting, soft vibrations filling the room as you swiped it up and down your cunt. It felt weird at first after you had been without it for so long, maybe even slightly uncomfortable before you slipped your fingers down to join the toy, groaning with an unconscious rut of your hips into the toy.

Your fingers slide over your wet cunt, gasping as you pressed the tip of the vibrator to your clit, groaning as you lifted your hips just a bit to get that perfect angle. It doesn’t take you long to slip a pillow under your hips just as you slide a finger into your cunt, groaning loudly as you slowly turn the vibrator in a firm circle against your clit.

It wasn’t enough though, not for what you wanted, making you tilt the vibrator to an angle to push it down so the tip was against the top of your entrance. Your other hand pushed another finger into your cunt, the end of the vibrator pressed firmly to your clit as you rolled your hips into the toy.

Would he fuck you like this? Would he use a toy until you’re a blubbering mess underneath him and begging for his cock?

The answer was yes. Kris would torture you with a toy until you’re sobbing from overstimulation, but Ethan? The Ethan that you would bring out? He wouldn’t stop when you’re overstimulated, pressing the vibrator to your swollen clit as he used your pussy like a fleshlight for his own pleasure until you were sobbing and your mascara was running down your face.

He watched through the Polaroid camera, taking a few pictures and was grateful for the fact that he changed the film case so he could take as many pictures as he wanted while his other hand pumped his cock. He groaned, watching as you pulled out your fingers and pushed the vibrator into your cunt, pumping his cock harder as he shifted his hips and pulled the camera farther back, getting both his cock right at the moment he came and the image of your pinched face as you came around the vibrator.

Your eyes rolled back, groaning loudly as your hips buck uncontrollably into the vibrator, whimpering slightly as it pushed against your sensitive cunt, holding the back of the vibrator to try and turn it off, eyes rolling back when it took too long. You panted, inhaling sharply as you let it stay inside of your cunt for a few seconds before your phone dings.

Reaching for your regular phone, you tilted your head slightly in confusion when there was no notification until another ding made you look to the side, smiling as you slowly took out the toy and walked over and grabbed it.

Kris 3:23pm

Don’t forget those pictures for me, darling.

Later that day, when you were asleep, Ethan easily snuck in through your window from the fire escape. He was a bit paranoid since last time you woke up to use the bathroom and he had to hide underneath your bed, but he had run out of your underwear from cumming all over them. He had planned to wash them, but it never worked out because there were no washing machines and dryers at the dorms and it’d look very weird doing that in a washateria.

With that though, he slipped a blindfold over your eyes and headphones over your ears, watching as you twisted slightly. He grabbed his burner phone with the voice modifier, calling you as you hummed softly. You don’t question the blindfold over your eyes, or the headphones on your head, only focusing on answering the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey honey,” Ethan spoke, his voice edited as he slowly kneeled over the bed. “Guess who?”

You giggle, shrugging as you go to twist on the bed before he holds your hips. You gasped making him laugh, your voice echoing in your ears before his thumbs firmly slid over your pelvis bone. “Hey darling… darling, it’s me. It’s me.”

“Wh-Why are you here, Kris? Y-You’re scaring me,” you say, his shushing making you shiver as his thumbs slide down to your wet cunt covered only by your thin cotton panties. “Kris?”

“I’m here, honey, it’s me,” he said, licking his lips as he pressed his thumbs down firmly. “Got my hands here, baby. Rubbing you nicely. I just… I couldn’t hold back anymore, my love. Do you want me to leave? I’ll… I’ll leave if you want me to.”

He really wasn’t going to, honestly — if you wanted him to leave.

“No,” you respond, your hands swatting at the air before he caught your wrist and guided it to his chest. “Why did you wait so long? Why now?”

“Because,” Ethan whispered, his voice cutting out slightly as he slowly slipped down your panties. “I couldn’t hold back.”

“A-Are you… are you going to do something?”

“Like what?” He asked you, his lips softly pressing to your hip bone. “Can I… do something? I’ll be nice. I’ll be so nice, honey, nice and gentle.”

“Yes… yes, please,” you whispered, groaning as his thumbs slowly pulled apart your pussy lips and he stared at the wetness already leaking out.

He groaned as he stood, going into that same drawer you put the hollow book and taking out your vibrator, pushing it into his mouth with a loud groan.

“K-Kris? Is everything okay?”

“Don’t say that name,” Ethan’s voice came out more rough then he meant it to when he pulled the toy out of his mouth, cursing softly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it to sound that way… I just… it’s not my real name and I’d rather you moan my real name rather than that one. Do you understand?”

“Y-Yes, I understand,” you whimpered as he slowly kneeled in between your spread legs, taking the vibrator and slowly turning it on. “Wh-What’s that?”

“You don’t know?” Ethan laughed, pushing the vibrator between your folds and easily sliding it up and down your soaked cunt. He watched your face pinch, mouth falling open as your nose scrunched, wishing he could see your pretty eyes. Were they snapped open or squeezed shut?

They were squeezed shut, your thighs already shaking as your hands squeeze the sheets and your hips buck into the silicone. You gasped, the vibrations clear over your headphones as his mouth sucked on your clit, tongue lapping as he let his saliva gather.

On the other hand, Ethan was focusing on not cumming. He watched your hands dig into the sheets, your hips bucking with each flick of his tongue to that sensitive bundle of nerves that was just fucking delectable right now. Ethan was enjoying the fact he was making you feel good without even touching you, the vibrator doing all the work as he easily slipped it inside of you, thrusting it in and out as you moaned loudly.

He wasn’t even sure if you knew how loud you were being, your hands quickly finding their way to his hair and pulling him closer as his other hand held your thigh over his shoulder. He could feel you rocking your hips into the vibrator, your fingers threading through his curls and tugging slightly to hear him groan against your cunt.

It makes you gasp, the vibrations traveling straight through your clit to your spine, your stomach clenching as you rut your hips into the air. He groaned, gasping as he nudged his nose to your low puffy clit, pushing his tongue down to your entrance where the vibrator was handle deep inside of you.

He could hear your moans filling the room, unable to see the tears pricking your eyes from pleasure. You had never taken the vibrator this deep, his hand movements languid and lazy making you desperate.

Ethan was desperate so see the way your cunt clenched and fluttered, staring at each erotic movement. He was so tempted to stick his tongue in there with the toy, but he knew it would leave that unfamiliar feeling on his slick muscle, so he decided against it. Besides, he took enough pleasure listening to your moans and watching your cunt flutter when you started to get closer to your release.

Still though, as much as he loved watching you get off for something he was doing, he couldn’t cum. He wanted to, but he couldn’t, not if it wasn’t going to be inside of you and if you weren’t looking at him.

“Are you close, darling?”

“Y-Yes!” You screamed out, groaning. “Fuck, yes!”

You could feel the vibrator press to the perfect spot inside of you, your mouth falling open when the knot finally snapped and you came around the toy, screaming so loudly you could hear yourself. Your voice was definitely deeper than you thought it would be.

“K-Kris? Was that me?”

He turned off the toy with a soft curse, pressing a kiss to your clit as he slowly pulled it out. He watched your hands slowly pull out of his hair as he turned off the vibrator, thumbs pressing against his face as you pressed your lips together firmly. It makes Ethan’s brows pull together as his face scrunches, confused before you start to giggle.

“Well, I can’t see you… so I wanted to try to memorize your face with my hands,” you say, smiling. “Your skin is soft.”

“You can see me soon, my love,” Ethan whispered, slowly leaning forward so that his face was close to yours. You smiled as he nudged his wet nose against yours, his lips softly ghosting over yours as you inhaled shakily. “I promise you.”

You inhaled as you pulled him closer, humming as his fingers trail over your hips, his lips softly pressing to yours. His lips make you gasp, soft but slightly chapped, perfect against yours as you wrap your legs around his waist, softly rolling your hips against his hard cock making him groan loudly against your mouth.

“Won’t you fuck me, Kris? Please?”

“I can’t,” Ethan mumbled, humming. “I want you to see my face when I fuck you.”

You inhale, nodding as he pressed a firm kiss to your lips. “Uhm… if you don’t want me to call you Kris, what should I call you?”

“You won’t have to call me that anymore, I’ll give you my real name soon, I promise.”

And with that, he pushed the vibrator right back into you, turning it onto its highest setting to watch your face scrunch, determined to stare at your face until he could see tears.

The next morning, Ethan gave you your usual coffee and pastry at your doorstep, a smile on your face as you called him while you ate.

“You should come by again tonight,” you suggest, biting into your pastry. “I could uhm… I could do something for you.”

“Oh yeah?” He laughed, pumping his cock. He had been edging himself since yesterday when he saw you, humming. “You’re already doing something for me, darling. You just keep talking.”

You paused, gasping. Was he… masturbating?

“Kr-Kris, are you-”

“What’d I tell you about calling me that?” Ethan almost got turned off, if it wasn’t for you stuttering. “What do you think I’m doing, baby?”

“I-I… I don’t know.”

“I’m getting your present ready,” he smirked down at the acrylic container already almost filled up with his cum, the last few releases already almost filling it up. “I think you’re going to like it.”

“What is it?” You asked, perking up as you finished up your coffee. “I-Is it something nice?”

“Oh yeah baby,” he laughed, cursing as he finally came, spurting it inside of the container as he grunted, cleaning up the side and sliding his finger over the side. “I think you’ll like it. I’ll have it at your door soon, my love.”

You smiled, nodding. “Right… right, okay. I’ll see you soon… darling.”

“We’ll see.”

You waited by the door as soon as he hung up, pacing desperately to be there as soon as he knocked. You gasped when there was a soft knock against your door, quickly opening the door and looking around to try and see if you could see someone in the hall, but there wasn’t.

You sighed when you looked down, a small box tied with a bow that you slowly grabbed and set on your table after locking the door. You answered it as you started opening the box, confused when you saw a small container. “What is it?”

“Oh, you already opened it, you’re so impatient,” he laughed, leaning against the wall of the room he rented right next to yours. “Are we going to act like you didn’t try to look for me? Running to the door like that.”

“H-How did you know that?” You asked, staring at the door. “I… did I miss you?”

“Just about,” he laughed, shaking his head. “Why don’t you open that container for me?”

“Oh… okay,” you whisper, slowly opening it and taking a slight sniff, nose scrunching. “Is it a lotion?”

He laughed, staring down at his cock that was already getting hard. “I mean… I guess it’s more… edible.”

“I can eat it?”

He hummed, listening to your actions as close as he could.

You lift it to your lips, slowly dipping your tongue inside and your nose scrunching when you tasted the salty substance. “What is it?”

“Something special I made for you,” he laughed, shaking his head. “You enjoy that, alright?”

“Can I cook with it?”

Ethan laughed again before his phone dings, cursing. “No, honey, it’s meant to be eaten on its own, but I have to go, okay? I’ll see you tonight.”

“Can I see you?”

He paused, sighing. “We’ll see. I love you.”

“I… I love you too.”

He hung up, groaning when he saw a text from his sister. At least you had a class today, so you wouldn’t be suspected as the murderer.

That night, you still couldn’t figure out what that thing Kris gave you was, or you didn’t want to figure it out. You had an inference after you dipped your finger inside and scooped more into your mouth, but you blocked it out as soon as you thought of it. He wouldn’t be like that, would he?

When someone knocked, you looked at your phone, the number 10:32 bright on your normal screen. He wouldn’t leave a gift this late, would he?

Slowly, you walked over and peaked out the hole, face scrunching in confusion when you didn’t see anyone. It was stupid, yes, opening the door, gasping as you were pushed inside, face forward against your wall. For fucks sake, what kind of luck was this?

“Stop! Please, stop, I’m a college student – I don’t have anything!” It was true, you were waist deep in student debt, what could they want from you?

You could feel tears pricking your eyes as his hands paw at your waist, red stained fingers making you whimper before he starts to laugh. You had definitely heard that laugh before.

“Kr-Kris?”

“What did I say about that name?” His hands push into the front of your underwear, a gasp falling from your lips before it turns into a loud groan when his fingers graze your still sensitive clit. “I guess… now you can know my real name.”

You gasped at his voice, groaning as you pressed your forehead to the wall, his lips grazing your ear. “Wh-What is it?”

“Ethan.”

You paused, quickly turning around with a gasp when you saw the pretty face of the guy from one of your classes that you always looked at for a little too long. “Ethan… Ethan.”

“You like saying it, don’t you? Then you’re going to love moaning it,” he mumbled, watching your hips rut from his fingers grazing over your clit again, your body squirming against the walls as he laughed, easily pulling off your bottoms and underwear. “I’m so glad I used this pussy until you were sobbing last night, preparing you for my cock. Gonna use you until you’re a sobbing mess and you’re addicted to my cock. I’ve waited way too long to fuck you, and right now, I really need it.”

“E-Ethan-!” You screamed out as he picked you up, gasping as he threw you over his shoulder, walking straight to your room and throwing you onto the bed. “Wh-What happened?”

He looked down at the stupid Ghostface robe he’d have to take off to fuck you, with more clothes underneath, cursing. “Don’t worry, honey, you don’t have to worry about that. I took care of it.”

“Are you all right?” You asked, sitting up as he took off his clothes, stripping down to nothing as he crawled over your body.

“Don’t worry about that, my love,” he whispered, smiling down at you. “You just get ready to feel the most pleasure you’ll ever feel in your life, okay?”

“W-Wait!” You pressed your hands to his chest, panting underneath him. “I’m… I’m a virgin, Ethan. Please, please be gentle.”

He pressed his lips together, holding back a smile as he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours as he held your face with one hand, the other pushing down to your cunt and sliding down your folds, gathering your wetness. He groaned as he easily slipped a finger into your cunt, your walls immediately clamping down as he imagined your pussy fluttering like he saw last night.

“I promise you baby, you don’t want me to be gentle. I’ll make you feel so good, I swear.”

You inhaled, nodding as he pressed another kiss to your lips. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

You gasped as he pulled his fingers out of you, watching as he slowly grabbed his hard cock, his tip an angry red and dripping precum, wasting no time pushing into your cunt. You gasped, groaning loudly as he slowly pushed into you, eyes rolling back as your eyes prick with tears of pain. It felt weird and hurt slightly, but it wasn’t anything compared to when he pushed the vibrator into you last night and watched you cum over and over again last night, so many times you lost count.

“Fuck, honey, you’re so tight,” he groaned, pulling out to watch the moonlight reflect off his arousal covered cock, a choked sound leaving your mouth when you saw it. Were you really that wet? “You feel better than I could ever imagine, fuck!”

You were too overstimulated from yesterday, his thrusts rough and quick though still sloppy, his first time being in your cunt making him unhinged. How could he hold back when you were so wet and tight, clamping down on his shaft perfectly and barely letting him pull out? Fuck, he couldn’t stop now.

You held onto his shoulders, groaning loudly as you rut your hips into his, Ethan’s hands finding the backs of your thighs and pulling them around his waist with a loud grunt. Your nails drag down his back, loud whines leaving your lips as his tip abuses your cervix, hitting with each rough thrust as he pressed his mouth to your neck. “Fuck!”

His voice was broken and strained as your hips begin to move unconsciously, desperate to hit that high as his tongue dragged down your neck, already marking your skin up with hickies. He was so desperate, hips speeding up as he neared his climax, loud groans falling from his mouth as you cursed.

“F-Fuck, fuck Ethan! Please, please, it’s too much!” You sobbed, desperate for more just as much as you were desperate for a break. Your mind was blurry and hazy, mixing the wires of pain and pleasure, unsure whether to stop or keep going.

He laughed as he pulled away, leaning forward to kiss your lips, wiping your eyes as he paused his hips just for a second, desperate to control himself. He inhaled, finally finding a steady rhythm even though he was so close to cumming, desperate to make sure you found pleasure. "It's okay to cry, darling, I know it's out of pleasure. Come on, show me how good I make you feel. Cry for me."

Oh, that’s all you needed.

You sobbed as he finally thrusted one last time, a loud groan falling from his lips, his cum filling your deepest parts and pushing past your cervix enough to make your vision go white and a scream of his name fall from your lips. He doesn’t let you take a breath, easily flipping your limp body over to thrust his hips against your ass, turning into rolls in desperation as he pushes his fingers over your arms to follow up to your hands, intertwining your fingers as you sobbed from pleasure.

It was too much, his movements never stopping as he squeezed your hands, tongue trailing over your cheek. He smeared blood across your skin, not that you noticed, his mouth and teeth marking up your skin with hickies and bite marks, determined to show everyone else in the world you were his.

He pulled one hand away from yours, pushing it down to squeeze your ass in his hand, giving you a soft slap to make you regain focus back on him. “What are you thinking about, my love? You should only be thinking about my cock.”

Oh and you were. How long had you been in this position, how many times had you come and clenched around his cunt in desperation, signaling your body cumming around his length?

“I am, I am! I am, holy fuck you feel so good, fuck Ethan!”

He leaned down, sinking his teeth into your shoulder as your knuckles go white, eyes rolling back as previous tears fall into your open mouth making you taste the salty liquid, his teeth marking you once again. “You’re mine, darling. You belong to me.”

“Yes, fuck, yes!”

“I’m going to show you, darling, and I’m going to show the whole fucking world – starting by your neighbors knowing my name.”

omg, I love fulfilling requests ♡

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🖇·˚ ༘ ┊͙[Cleaning with the Akatsuki] ! ˊˎ {Akatsuki x reader}

FT - ITACHI, SASORI, PAIN, DAIDARA

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𝑰𝑻𝑨𝑪𝑯𝑰 🥀 :

⭑ would love to clean the living room, the scene when he chases the chicken while trying to make food imagine that but he’s running around the living room vacuuming

⭑ he would despise having to clean the bathroom it would gross him out

⭑ he would have a bad habit of trying to do everything multiple times to ensure it’s clean. After his first time vacuuming he would walk around staring intensely at the carpet to make sure he didn’t miss a single thing, and then even tho he didn’t miss anything he would still go over it again just in case

⭑ he would be a psychopath and not listen to music while he cleans, however; when he cleans with you he dosnt mind when you put on a calm playlist (he definitely loves classical music) - If you did choose to put on a playlist then after his vacuuming and and ur dusting or organizing he would take ur hand and spin you to face him. He would start to slow dance pulling you in to follow his lead

⭑ after intensely running around the living room and giving the carpet a good stare down, he would make sure ur done as well and help if needed - then you both shower or bathe whichever you prefer - finally you both can relax in bed and watch a movie or simple hold each other as you both drift to sleep

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𝑺𝑨𝑺𝑶𝑹𝑰 🪆 :

⭑ he wouldn’t particularly like cleaning but he would enjoy organizing (his tools and such) when he does get into the productive cleaning mood he would need a body double. He would appreciate you helping him clean but he wouldn’t want you moving his stuff around so most likely he’d ask you to sweep or dust

⭑ as I said he wouldn’t really like cleaning so it’s not what he doesn’t like to clean it’s what he does and what he will actually be willing to do

⭑ he would have a bad habit of getting easily distracted, not in the worst way but when he cleans and organize his tools he would think of new ideas for his puppets and start working on that instead (thus why he needs you to be there as his body double)

⭑ he would enjoy having music on but it would need to be low so he dosnt get distracted by it, when cleaning with you he would let you put on whatever playlist you want as long as it’s not on full volume

⭑ after organizing he would ask if your done, if you say yes he would go right back to cleaning signaling for you to sit on his lap to keep him company as he enjoyed it while cleaning more than he thought he would. If you say no he would let out a sigh and ask if you need help and what he can do to make help you get it done

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𝒀𝑨𝑯𝑰𝑲𝑶 (𝑷𝑨𝑰𝑵) 🪦 :

⭑ if he’s in the mood for it he would go ham when cleaning, he would love to clean the kitchen as he finds doing the dishes and moping calming, but only when he’s in the mood for it

⭑ there’s nothing in particular he would complain about when it comes to what he would clean but if he doesn’t want to he won’t. He is pain, after all. No one can really tell him what to do

⭑ his bad habit would be spacing out just randomly as he’s mopping he would just stare at the floor

⭑ he wouldn’t really like music in the background, he would let you put your music on tho. However, he would prefer listening to you yap about whatever came to mind, he would find ur voice easy to get lost in

⭑ after cleaning he would lean against the wall and wait for you to finish, then as your done we would take you by the arm and bring you to the bathroom so you both could shower. And finally he would go back to work allowing you to stay with him only if you’re quiet. If you asked, after showering he would agree to a small nap or one movie before returning to work

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𝑫𝑬𝑰𝑫𝑨𝑹𝑨 👅 :

⭑ he would hate cleaning, no such thing as a cleaning mood for him. You would have to do a lot of convincing and nagging for him to help you

⭑ his least favorite thing would be the bathroom, which is why it would be the room you force him to do first

⭑ “eww EWW! I can’t do it! It’s too gross” his bad habit would be complaining about everything because he knows if he does it enough you’ll let him go do something else as long as it’s cleaning related

⭑ he needs music if he’s going to be cleaning he would love listening to your playlists and hearing new artists

⭑ immediately after cleaning he would drag you into the freshly cleaned shower. Then you both would cuddle in bed and watch whatever he wants “you made me clean now you have to watch what I want, it’s only fair”

❥๑━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━๑❥

Click here for 🎀 Part 2 🎀

[zh-lele]

12-7 ROOM (part one)

Surviving a week to Donghyuck's charms and jokes can't be so hard... Worst case scenario, you end up completely falling for your brother's best friend.

▪︎Pairing: brother's best friend!Hyuck x fem reader

▪︎Genres: poor attempt at rom com, fluff

▪︎Warnings: alcohol consumption, profanity suggestive jokes

▪︎Word count (part 1): 6613 words

playlist | extra content: mc's IG stories

Author's note: Hi every1!!! The fluffy Hyuck fic is here, finally. I decided I'll be posting it in two parts because it ended up being way longer than I planned, and since it's written in the format of timestamps. It barely has any conflict, so I was afraid it would get boring or tedious if I posted everything in just one go. So, yeah, part 2 coming next week. Also, I changed Hyuck's major (it's physics now) for plot purposes lol I figured it would be easier for me to write him if we share majors. Also !! I didn´t proof read it but I will during the week lol sorry. Okay, tysm for all the support on the preview !!! enjoy the fic bye !!!!

Tuesday, 10:34 p.m.

Mark moves around the small apartment urgently cleaning up. He makes sure to pick up and throw into the garbage bag between his hands every empty Red Bull can that his roommate has left lying around. On the old sofa rests his guitar, and on the little table in the living room his lyrics notebooks and Donghyuck's physics notes.

"Mark," Donghyuck calls for him, to which the older one only responds with a small sound, indicating that he has his attention—partially, as he's still concentrating on his duty of getting all ready for your arrival—, "Your food is getting cold."

Mark lets out an exasperated sigh while getting all his belongings inside his backpack and his guitar in the case. "I'll just order something once I'm at the studio."

"Wait, you're leaving?"

"Yeah, I need to get some work done with TY. And y/n's arriving at any time so this place has to be tidy and clean and–" Mark stops all motions of arranging the mattress you're going to sleep on on the living room floor, to fix his eyes on his friend. "Hyuck, could you like, put on a t-shirt or something?"

Small drops of water fall from Donghyuck's wet hair onto his naked torso, fresh from the warm shower he just took. The young man does nothing but questions his best friend with a lopsided smile as he finishes his bowl of ramen, sitting at the counter in front of Mark's—that remains full and cold by now.

"What, you think y/n's gonna be scared of all this handsomeness?"

Mark's face is expressionless while looking at Donghyuck, who's feeling himself to add to the point. And Mark has missed you a lot, but he thinks that the faster he gets a break from his chaotic roommate, the better; he can't wait to have a week free of the jokes and headaches Donghyuck causes him because Donghyuck will have you to annoy. Even when he will still be working, to Mark, that sounds pretty much like a vacation.

"Nah, dude. It's fucking cold, you'll get sick."

"You will get sick if you don't get anything to eat as soon as you make it to work," Donghyuck answers back as he gets up from his chair and puts his favorite Michael Jackson t-shirt on. "Promise me you'll order."

"Yeah, I promise," Mark sounds sincere. After a quick hug and a few pats on each other's back, Mark is opening the front door ready to leave for a late-night music session. "Please receive y/n well for me–

"Y/n!"

Screams and laughs from both you and your brother fill the little apartment, as you greet and hug him after almost four months without seeing each other. Just in time, is what Donghyuck thinks while observing the cute interaction, and gently caressing his belly from underneath the t-shirt because, well, he is confident but—even though he has known you for years and you've shared many situations—, he's not confident enough around you to show himself with nothing on like that. At least not yet.

His face lights up as soon as he sees you extend your arms in his direction, and Donghyuck manages to squeeze you into a warm hug and spin you in the air while the both of you laugh.

Your brother says his goodbyes, and Donghyuck tells him there's a chance they could meet up at Johnny's later, in case he wants to join in after work.

"Alright, I'll get there with Taeyong later then."

He waves to both of you and closes the front door, leaving you alone with his roommate.

"Take a relax, bro," he offers you to sit at the counter and you laugh after hearing the famous line after months. You observe him filling a cup with water and placing it in front of you before speaking again. "Want some ramen?"

"Hell yeah. I'm starving."

"Let me heat it for you."

But he was already on it even before you answered. Donghyuck knows well he's very good at turning the simple dish into a delicious meal, and that it's one of your favorite things to share since you two met.

You wouldn't say it was love at first sight, but maybe adoration since the first encounter. Only weeks after your brother moved to start studying, he invited you over because he was missing home too much. And Donghyuck wouldn't be his apartment buddy until a year after, but they already frequented the same group of friends. The two of you were standing awkwardly in a corner at Taeyong's birthday party, and ended up at your brother's because you were hungry, eating ramen together: his secret recipe (that wasn't mysterious at all) that included tomatoes and scrambled eggs and that he only made for 'real special situations'.

Donghyuck sets the bowl in front of you, the tomato scrambled noodles and eggs making your mouth water and curve in a smile. A ray of sunshine gets on the chair beside you even though it's almost midnight, and makes you feel at home, warming you even though it's freezing outside.

"So, how's school?" You start talking with a mouth full of ramen, lips moisturized with its sauce that makes Donghyuck smile when he sets his eyes on them. His look makes you blush, but you blame it on the spiciness of the Hot Chicken Spicy x2 package of noodles that he prepared for you. "Hyuck, this is burning my mouth."

"Well, don't put so many noodles in your mouth at once!" Donghyuck brings the glass of water to your hands and you accept it immediately. Its freshness somehow makes you forget the mess that Hyuck's eyes on your filthy ramen lips could have caused. 

Maybe surviving a week living with the guy you like (who is your brother's best friend, which makes things a lot more complicated) will be harder than you thought.

"School's been kicking my ass," the boy continues and you nod your head, sadly sharing the sentiment. "I started my winter break last Friday, but I have to take a final in two weeks so I'll be studying. And Mark doesn't get a winter break."

"Motherfucking TY, won't let him rest."

"That's what I say!" He agrees with you, his eyes widening and sighing in exasperation. "Both of them are workaholics. Won't stop working on their music even for a week."

"Yeah. And knowing Mark, he'll try to make the most of his time since he doesn't have to teach at school for two weeks."

You knew in advance that your brother wouldn't be home much despite your visit, however extraordinary it may be. He warned you about it, that he would be focusing 100% on Taeyong's album, but that he would definitely try to take advantage of the free time to go out with you, or just chill together at home. On the other hand, Mark assured you that Donghyuck would be very happy to spend the time he wouldn't be there with you. The idea gave you butterflies in your stomach when your brother texted it to you; some emojis of a mischievous smile followed the message but you didn't know how to interpret it, since Mark is terrible at texting and pretty much a boomer.

"But don't worry!" Donghyuck speaks after a brief pause. "I'll study early in the mornings while you sleep, then we'll have the afternoons to hang out, and Mark can join whenever he's free. He'll make time for it, I'm sure."

Somehow, the thought of Donghyuck getting up early during his break to have the afternoons free to spend time with you makes your heart melt a little. You lower your head, trying to hide the inevitable smile on your lips, but you fail wildly. You decide to adhere to Donghyuck's plan, nodding and showing the tight-lipped smile that spreads to his face.

"Good." He nods as well. "So, you wanna go to Johnny's later?" Donghyuck asks, his thumb pointing in the direction of the door.

"Yeah, sure." You get up from the kitchen table to start doing your dishes at the sink. "I'm excited to see the boys after so long."

"And we have some new additions to the group."

Donghyuck's voice reaches your ears from behind. You're quickly cleaning the single bowl and glass you used, so you finish and turn around to keep listening to him face-to-face. Donghyuck picks up on his monologue. 

"There's Jungwoo. He's living with Jaehyun and Doyoung and he's about to finish doing vet in college. And it's funny, because he really looks and acts like a doggie, and he's doing vet," Donghyuck finishes the sentence, looking at you with an expression that suggests 'Can you believe that?'.

His silliness makes you laugh, which encourages Donghyuck to continue sharing his first impressions of his new friends. "Then there's Yuta. He came from Japan and opened a café on the first floor of the building where Johnny and Taeyong live, and that's how they met. He's a little cold with me," Donghyuck shrugs at it, yet you can tell in his expression how he gets discouraged when he thinks about that situation. "But he's not cold with Mark. And Mark is, I don't know, he's obsessed with Yuta." There is a brief silence in which Donghyuck only looks into your eyes with a super serious face. "I hate that."

And you burst into laughter. You don't need to ask Donghyuck if he's jealous, because you know for a fact that he very much is. As soon as he doesn't get all the attention, he gets annoying. Don't you dare not answer one of the silly cat reels he sends on Instagram or he will start texting you things like "Pay attention to me" or "Answer or I'll get sad." So you know how it can be. He doesn't get annoyed over the Baekhyun posts he shares with you because you always reply to them. Donghyuck might get jealous of Baekhyun too, but he won't show that to you.

"Don't worry, Hyuck." You circle the island to stand next to him and try to comfort him, one of your hands caressing circles on his back. He quickly seeks comfort by resting his head on your shoulder, and you can notice his slightly wet hair smells like green apple and cinnamon, like baby shampoo. "You're Mark's best friend. The things you've been through together, he won't get through again with anyone else. That's what's special about you two."

"You're right, y/n," he agrees while getting his head off your shoulder. "None of them will ever know Mark ran out of toilet paper at a party once and he sacrificed a sock to clean his-"

"Oh my fucking God" you cut him off before he can finish, not wanting to hear any of it. "Gross! Some things are better kept as a secret, Hyuck! I'll go change."

"But we are like a family!" he screams as you get out of the kitchen and into Donghyuck and Mark's room to get ready for Johnny's house. "Sharing those things helps us get closer!"

The walls are thin, so you don't bother answering Donghyuck from the room. "Honestly, Hyuck, I don't really care where my brother's butt has been or whatever. Let's get closer by sharing some drinks at Johnny's."

Wednesday, 01:47 a.m.

"So, how did you two meet?" Yuta asks, taking up the free space next to you on the couch and passing you two cans of beer. Exactly what you need after three rounds of karaoke with Johnny and Doyoung that are inexhaustible.

They're still going off strong in front of the TV, waiting for Mark to get back and join them in their madness.

"Oh, we're not together."

"Oh, that's for sure. I know you're not pulling any bitches, Hyuck."

Donghyuck laughs dryly at the Japanese boy, putting on his best expression of annoyance; tongue poking at his inside cheek and rolling his eyes, and he replies, "That's not true. I can pull anyone I want."

"Prove it," Yuta pushes him because he knows that Donghyuck is an easy-going person, and always a good target for a challenge.

Donghyuck quickly scans the room while you busy yourself taking a sip of your can, not wanting to get involved in Yuta's teasing, until he lands eyes on Jaehyun. He knows the boy loves him and is almost always up for some of his affection.

"Jaehyun's not an option," Yuta adds, the always good observant, and Donghyuck sighs very audibly before throwing his head back on the couch.

But he composes himself quickly to ask, turning slightly to you with his arm still firm around your shoulders. "Would you get with me? Hypothetically?"

“Are you asking me because I’m the only girl in the room?” you question him with a raise of your brows.

“Nah, you’re my first option,” he replies with a subtle smile, eyes closing slightly into the shape of two crescent moons.

You like to think he truly has no idea the effect his words have on you, and that he's just messing with Yuta, trying to prove a point. Yet, you can't help feel the heat rise to your cheeks. A deep breath is all it takes you to ignore the intern butterflies and follow the conversation, as if you're not already imagining the thousand scenarios where you and Donghyuck are an established couple living with two dogs (you would like a cat but he's allergic) and a hamster.

“But I thought your first option was Jaehyun–”

“Just answer the question, y/n.”

“Alright, jeez…”

You roll your eyes and give yourself a moment to think. Would you get together with Hyuck, hypothetically? Considering the four-year crush you've had on your brother's best friend since the moment you met him, no, you wouldn't.

You would get with him for real. All of your friends back home said it's time you brave up and just confess to him. You better come back with the signed marriage papers, your best friend’s voice resonates in your head.

"I mean… Yes?" you answer by looking at Yuta, trying to avoid Donghyuck's eyes that you know are set on the blushed skin of your face. "I guess Hyuck is not a bad match," you finish with a shy shrug, sinking yourself deeper on the couch and taking another long drink.

Donghyuck smiles contentedly at your answer, his chest filling with confidence, and kisses you wet with beer on the forehead that gets you squeezed up to his body for a second. By the time he's done, you rest your head on his shoulder to return the affection, trying not to throw up all the butterflies and not noticing Yuta's knowing stare.

"Keyword: hypothetically. And I said 'Prove it.'" Yuta pushes a little more.

"Bro, you're so annoying." Donghyuck gets up from the couch exasperated, and almost makes you spill all your beer while trying to get you up with him. "What, you want us to make out?"

Yuta nods, crossing his arms and spreading his legs on the couch that he has all for himself now, challenging the younger boy.

"Sorry dude, we're not into exhibitionism."

Donghyuck takes your hand to drag you away from the living room, but you can still hear Yuta's laugh and the words the two you would end up choosing to ignore for the rest of the night.

"This is not how you're getting some, Hyuck! Don't say I didn't try to help you!"

Donghyuck's hand holding yours (or rather dragging you into the kitchen) feels embarrassingly good. Worth blushing and having your heart fastening inside your chest. Damn Donghyuck for making you feel like a teenager who had just exchanged looks with their highschool crush. And just when you needed a break from that ridiculous wave of emotions…

“What are you wearing!?” You hear Johnny’s voice coming out of the speakers, as he’s still holding the mic to his mouth while the instrumentals of his most iconic karaoke performance play on the back, A Flying Butterfly by YB.

Mark and Taeyong have arrived at the apartment and they have caught everyone's attention because Taeyong is wearing an inflatable T-Rex costume. Jungwoo is the first one to get to Taeyong with his mouth open in astonishment, an expressión that is quickly replaced with amusement as soon as he gets to hug and squeeze the dinosaur in his hands.

“Jungwoo, stop squeezing my butt!” Taeyong’s voice comes a little distorted from inside the costume, but it’s clear enough for everyone to laugh at his comment. “You're going to make it deflate!”

Jungwoo keeps looking at Taeyong in the costume as if he was a kid who just saw Santa; hugging the dinosaur and saying it feels perfect for cuddling. This is the moment you understand what Donghyuck meant when he said Jungwoo looks just like an excited doggie.

“Taeyong saw it online and got it because it was on sale a couple weeks ago,” Mark starts explaining to no one in particular. “But then he ordered it and we completely forgot about it, until it arrived at the studio tonight.”

“I put it on inside the elevator so I could surprise you guys,” Taeyong adds with a happy smile, unzipping the costume just for his head to come out of it, somehow making it look all more ridiculous. Now the T-Rex looks like he has a floating head right above his stomach.

“Yeah… We had to stop the elevator for some more time because getting it inflated was way harder than I thought,” your brother says as he watches Taeyong and Jungwoo struggle with each other, because Jungwoo desperately wants to get inside the costume too but Taeyong doesn’t want to stop wearing it just yet.

Yuta only judges them from where he’s still sitting on the couch, arms crossed while shaking his head. “I can’t believe you really spent money on this.” Yet his comment is followed by a laugh. It’s not as intense as Doyoung and Taeil’s, though, who have been laughing since Taeyong crossed the door, and haven’t missed the chance to film and take pictures of  him (and Jungwoo who still wouldn’t leave his side.)

"Alright so," Johnny says into the mic to attract everyone's attention. "Karaoke?"

The guys start to team up; some out of affinity or fun, others because they know they will definitely win the most points if they are grouped with certain people who hit all the notes on any song. Donghyuck, however, doesn't team up with anyone right away. He just stands in the middle of Johnny's and Taeyong's living room, watching Mark immediately cling to Yuta (who already had Jungwoo clinging to his other side.) He gestures towards your brother with arms crossed and a roll of his eyes. So, noticing his jealousy over your brother's recent preferences—jealousy that wasn't that hard to notice, he made it pretty obvious—and taking pity on your friend, you offer to team up with him.

"Wanna kick some ass together?" And you observe him playing hard to get. You're not a bad match for karaoke; you might not sing as well as Taeil or Doyoung, but you don't suck at it, and Donghyuck knows that very well. So when he starts doubting over his answer, you know he just wants to mess with you.

Suddenly Taeil is standing in front of the two of you, and Donghyuck, with an incredibly exaggerated face of astonishment, asks him:

"You wanna team up with us?!"

See, you knew he wasn't going to leave you out of his team.

Taeil only shrugs, as relaxed as always. "Sure."

Donghyuck squeezes his older friend in a hug that only gets a groan out of Taeil (and a little smile) before throwing an arm each on your shoulders, and screams to the rest. "Everybody, we got Moon Taeil!"

A punch from your fist to his ribs. A little groan followed by a laugh coming out of his mouth and a gentle squeeze on your shoulder. He's quick to correct himself.

"I got Moon Taeil and y/n! And we're gonna kick your butts!"

Thursday, 6:22 p.m.

It's been a long time since Donghyuck has had a girl in his room.

It's not like Yuta was right when he said he can't pull anyone, Donghyuck just hasn't had the time nor the energy. His break and free time to do whatever he wants just started. Even when Mark's not home most of the nights, it doesn't feel quite right to him to bring girls over to his shared bedroom when his roommate could come back at any time. And even if he had wished to bring any girls home during his break, he knew you would be here, so he didn't wanna do that either. (Not that he's bothered that he can't bring girls home because of you. Actually he'd rather have you inside his bedroom than anyone else.)

So when he's watching you laying on his bed, reading a silly high-school novel you got from your brother's library and quietly keeping him company while he studies, his heart-rate fastens and he feels his cheeks rise its temperature. He grows embarrassed when, after seeing you smile so sweetly at him when you catch his eyes on you, the only thing he can think of is leaving those stupid Relativity notes behind, running over to your spot and stealing a kiss from your lips.

Yet Donghyuck remains motionless at his desk. He inwardly curses when you get up and start walking toward him, and wishes you wouldn't ask why he's so red because he can't blame it on the weather—it's the middle of winter.

To his surprise, you're curious about a totally different thing.

"What are you doing with all these comics?" you ask, picking up one of his Flash comics and opening it to a spot that Donghyuck has marked with a post it.

"I'm taking a class about Quantum Physics and Relativity and catching up on some work," he starts explaining, all his romantic fantasies put on pause to focus on the second thing (after you) that occupies his mind the most these days: college.

He watches your eyes grow with interest after hearing the name of his class, and he can't deny he gets all excited thinking about the possibilities: of having a girlfriend that would hear him talk about what he's most passionate about all he wanted. Knowing how much you've always enjoyed hearing the new things he's learned and about his most recent investigations, and noticing his feelings for you have only increased since you came back, Donghyuck's mind wonders.

"You know in the comics Flash supposedly travels at speeds close to light, right?" He watches you nod. "And he throws this infinite mass punch… Well, in one of the comics Flash punches this villain, and his fist is so powerful the villain will fly all over the ocean and land in another continent," he keeps explaining. "What are the chances of this actually happening, analyzing it from the relativistic perspective? That's what I'm looking into."

"And have you arrived to any conclusions?"

"Yeah, I have actually." He stars searching for a specific piece of paper which displays a bunch of calculations and formulas that you don't understand at all, but they look awesome.

Donghyuck doesn't wait for a specific reaction, yet your response cracks him up a little.

"Could you explain this for me? Dummy level?" you ask wrinkling your nose. Donghyuck wants to kiss the confusion off your face.

Honestly, he might be looking for any excuses to kiss you at this point. But, to be fair, he's liked you since that first time he cooked ramen for you the night you met—that was like four years ago. The only reason he has never made a move on you is because you're his friend's sister.

"Yeah, yeah I can do that." He lets out a breathy laugh, shaking these ideas out of his head once more. "Basically, that the mass of his punch is 'infinite' is a consequence of the relativistic effects of travelling at speeds near to light." He points at a calculation on the paper. "And if Flash punches you on the face he won't send you flying to another continent."

This time, Donghyuck watches the disappointment take over your features; smile and shoulders dropping at the same time. "He won't?"

Donghyuck denies with his head. "You would disintegrate in an instant. The energy of his punch is 750,000 times greater than the energy released by an atomic bomb exploding in your face."

You're not saying anything. You're just looking right into his eyes and it's making Donghyuck considerably nervous. Thankfully, he's been sitting all this time, because considering how close you're standing in front of him he's sure his knees would've given up on him a while ago.

He gulps. "I did the maths."

"You're a fucking genious."

Donghyuck melts hearing you praise his work.

“Okay. I’m ready,” Mark says as he waits for you at the room’s door.

Right, you and your brother were scheduled to have dinner together.

Donghyuck doesn't want you to go just yet, he doesn't want to stop chatting with you about irrelevant-to-the-society stuff like this, but he understands this is one of the few moments you’ll get to hang out with Mark alone, so he doesn’t tag alone when Mark offers him to.

“I’ll just have a light dinner and study a little bit more,” he politely declines. Then, he’s looking into your eyes once again. “Wanna chill together when you’re done with your brother?”

“You wanna watch Oppenheimer?”

Does he want to spend three hours watching a movie about an international bunch of nerds who just argue for more than two thirds of the plot, and some awfully awkward scenes of Mr. Oppenheimer flirting using physics that he definitely didn’t think of replicating with you? Again?

Donghyuck thinks you might be the love of his life. 

“Of-fucking-course I wanna watch Oppenheimer.” He thinks this might be a better answer, rather than confessing his undying love to you (in front of his best friend) (that is your brother.)

“Nobody’s gonna ask me if I want to watch Oppenheimer?” Mark questions with arms crossed and narrowed eyes.

“Mark, you were snoring inside the movie theater when we went to watch it together.”

“I had a long day, dude!”

“You literally came out of the theater and said ‘this was fucking boring for a World War Two movie’!”

“Well, I mean yeah–” Mark starts trying to defend himself but gets interrupted by you, when you start pushing him towards the door saying you’re hungry, and reminding him how most of the times they argue he can never win against Donghyuck. “But you gotta accept it was missing a little action, man.”

Donghyuck throws his head back, and then looks at your brother with his eyes squinted and a fake smile. “They were scientists, Mark, not soldiers–”

“Whatever!” you say when you’ve managed to get your brother out of the room. “We’re leaving. Hyuck–” Donghyuck notices his eyebrows relax, and the frown he had while arguing with Mark is gone as soon as you’re calling his name with a smile on your lips. “Looking forward to movie night.”

“I’ll get some beers for us,” Donghyuck adds, to which you agree excitedly.

Mark sighs once you’re on your way out of the apartment. “I swear to God,” he starts. “You two are like made for each other.”

You just punch his shoulder as a defense mechanism, not knowing how to react or manage your emotions when it comes to Donghyuck. And you definitely don't know Donghyuck catches a glimpse of your smile and your reddened cheeks before you close the front door.

That simple thing, maybe gives Donghyuck a little hope.

Friday, 11:13 a.m.

You can't believe you're jealous of a dog.

You watch the video play over and over on your phone screen. Donghyuck was literally rubbing his face on the little fur ball, using it as some kind of cotton pad, then showering the dog with kisses all over her little face.

Chenle's friends with the boys and he recently got a dog that he named Daegal. Today, Chenle and Mark were going to be working together since early and Chenle didn't want to leave the dog alone. Apparently, Donghyuck and Daegal love each other, and that's the reason why you're currently at Chenle's, at fucking eleven in the morning during your break.

Donghyuck and you were the designated babysitters of the dog.

You wonder over the video on your phone a little more, thinking of what to put as a caption to share it on your story. Maybe some emojis? Some angry emojis because Donghyuck won't even look at you now that he's with the doggie? Maybe cute emojis… Something like a sun, a heart, and a dog. Maybe the caption boyfriend material, or something in the lines of pay attention to me followed by some exclamation points.

You decide to post it with the text 'taking good care of the baby' and tagging Donghyuck and Chenle's account. It doesn't take long for two notifications to arrive. One is from Donghyuck, who just re-uploaded your story, and the other is a reply from Chenle. 'Who's the baby? Donghyuck or Daegal?' followed by a cracking up emoji.

A smile takes over your face reading it, and it stays there when you get your head up and your eyes meet Donghyuck, who's laying relaxed on the couch with the little fur ball on top of his belly. He has his cute transparent glasses on, and he's wearing some comfy pants and a hoodie that makes him look incredibly cozy and huggable.

His eyes find yours, and an arm extends in your direction, inviting you to join him on the couch with a pat besides his spot. His body radiates an enveloping heat that makes you forget it's winter, but it seems that it's not enough for Donghyuck, who grabs one of the soft blankets laying around the couch and puts it over the three of you.

The characteristic sound of Netflix reaches your ears and then Donghyuck is looking for the drama that you started watching together a couple of weeks ago, from your homes and when you both had some free time through Netflix Party. The third episode of My First True Love starts playing on the TV screen while you wait for the food you ordered earlier, and you feel content. Everything about the situation is too domestic and feels familiar, and you're not surprised when you think that you wouldn't mind getting used to this.

What is a surprise is when Donghyuck puts his arm over your head and offers you to get closer to him, resting a little more on his body.

"This is nice." You hear him say, almost in a whisper. The midday sun illuminates almost as much as his smile when you look up at him.

"It is," you agree, focusing once again at the TV (because looking at him was making you melt inside.)

"We could do it more often."

And by the increasing rate of his heart and the soft caresses in your hair, you knew he didn't mean just babysitting Daegal.

(Still) Friday, 04:02 p.m.

Donghyuck wakes up from his nap on the couch to the smell of coffee and missing the warmth from his two personal heaters, Daegal and you, who he remembers were still with him before he fell asleep. He sits and stretches in his place before moving towards the kitchen, where he already visualized your figure in front of the counter, with your back to him. You don't seem to notice him, so as he walks into the kitchen, he makes sure to greet you with a little hello.

You just look over your right shoulder at him, but you have to raise your head because Donghyuck is closer than expected. You greet him in the same way, but with a sweet smile on your face. "Hi, Hyuck."

Now that Donghyuck is so close, he can notice that the smell of coffee is coming from the machine in front of you that is filling two mugs with particular writings: one says 'best dad in the world', and the other says 'MARK' in big colorful letters (someone also took it upon themselves to print a photo of Mark holding a watermelon on it.)

"Chenle's mugs are fucking weird, don't you think?"

Donghyuck laughs hearing your question and decides to explain. "These are part of an inside joke. Chenle always says someone like Mark would be his ideal son, so your brother got these made for Chenle for last year's fathers' day." He finishes standing against the counter by your side, and thanks you when you handle him a warm home-made latte.

Donghyuck can't take coffee so well since most of the time it makes his stomach hurt, and you know this.

"You don't have to drink it. I remember you're not good with coffee," you tell him, but it's too late when Donghyuck's already sipping the first drink.

Yeah, he might have to use Chenle's bathroom later, but he's willing to face a shit rather than miss out on the opportunity to share a coffee made by you, on a winter afternoon where it's just the two of you and the sun filtering through the kitchen window falling on your face.

"I just thought it would've been disrespectful not making you one too."

You finish your sentence but smile watching him enjoying the coffee anyway, and Donghyuck thinks that maybe, just maybe, he's a little in love with you.

So he takes a deep breath, takes a lot of courage, and sets out to do what works best for him when it comes to you: pretend he's joking when in reality he's only on the verge of confessing his feelings. "Do I have something in my lips?"

"You do, actually," you answer his question pointing at your own upper lip with your finger to make him understand. "A little bit of foam around here–"

"Please do the Secret Garden scene."

"What?"

He's not hesitant to repeat it. Donghyuck internally questions himself though, wondering where all this confidence has come from. Because, yes, Donghyuck is very confident, naturally. But not when it comes to you. His knees go weak and his stomach starts to ache with nerves when he thinks of things like kissing you. In that sense, he will not waste this sudden confidence-rush.

"Please do the Secret Garden with me."

And this time around he can confirm you understood 100% what he means because your laugh and your punch on his arm indicate it. He notices it might be a reflex act of yours—punching people in the arm when you get nervous or don't know what to retort. He's glad he won't have to worry about punching mean guys when he makes you his girlfriend, though; you'll probably take care of that yourself.

Donghyuck still catches you staring at his lips the moment he gets rid of the foam with his tongue. And when you snap out of your trance, your eyes meet Donghyuck's and his eyebrows that move up and down, just to tease you a little more. A mischievous smile is also adorning his face.

He only watches you shake your head while your cheeks grow red, even when you try to hide it behind that big mug with the picture of your brother holding the watermelon.

"Anyway," he decides it will be better to change subjects. "Where's Daegal?"

"I thought she was sleeping with you?" You ask before you start looking around the place for the little fur ball.

"I mean, she was as long as I remember." Donghyuck watches you leave the kitchen and move around the living room, checking every corner for the dog you two were supposed to sacrifice your life for if needed (that's how Chenle described the seriousness of the duty). "You were too…" But you're far enough not to hear the disappointment in Donghyuck's voice after waking up all alone.

"She wasn't here when you woke up?" you ask, standing in front of the couch.

Donghyuck shakes his head no. You start picking up the tangle of blankets and throwing them in the direction of Donghyuck, who hardly catches them in his arms. It's confirmed that Daegal hasn't been trapped under the blankets and at least she hasn't suffocated to death. Although that doesn't give any of you any comfort; the doggie still is nowhere around.

"Oh my fucking god," you say, trapping your head in your hands. "We lost Chenle's dog."

"She has to be somewhere around."

"We lost Chenle's dog and we didn't even go out with her," he hears you repeat all the way from Chenle's bedroom, where Donghyuck checks if the little dog is hiding. He looks under the bed, inside the closet, and inside the bathroom, only to find nothing. "We must be the dumbest babysitters in the world," you finish when he's back in the living room.

He looks down at the watch on his wrist and notices it's almost four thirty, which makes him start to sweat from the nerves. "Chenle's about to come back. We need to find this dog right now."

"Chenle's gonna kill us."

"y/n, just look for the dog."

"He will find out and probably hire a contract killer to deal with us for losing his baby." Donghyuck sees your desperation and calls your name once more, but you don't listen to him. "I'll never see Baekhyun live again!"

And the doorbell rings, followed by a knock on the door and Chenle's screams coming from outside, telling you to let him in.

"Fuck my life," Donghyuck mutters and goes to open the door.

"Hyuck!" you hiss while following him closely. "What are you gonna tell him?"

He silences you, looking back at you and placing his index finger over his lips. Donghyuck takes a deep breath, puts his hand on the handle, sweats a little more despite fighting to calm his nerves, and finally opens the door. Mark is the first to enter, anyway, and he doesn't greet any of you; he simply calls for Daegal, and Donghyuck knows that this is the moment where he should start begging Chenle to let him keep his life and promise him that he will find another dog that looks exactly like–

"Daegal!"

Like the little white ball of fur in your brother's arms.

Donghyuck looks back at you once more, his eyes and mouth wide open in astonishment, and you return an equally astonished look.

"Thanks guys for taking good care of the baby," Chenle says once he's done greeting his dog, who appeared literally out of nowhere and left you and Donghyuck stressed enough for probably three or four months. "She didn't give you any problem, right?"

"Oh, no. Definitely, no." Donghyuck and you are quick to deny at the same time, which might sound a little suspicious as Chenle looks at both of you with narrowed eyes.

Then, he's moving his head to focus his gaze on the mess you left behind when you were rummaging through the couch and the blankets, looking for the dog. "Alright, lovebirds. Then I hope that disaster isn't because you two fucked on my couch while I was gone."

part two coming next week !

taglist: @matchahyuck @sundamariis @thesunsfullmoon @babyjenono @chenfleur @bettyschwallocksyee @sundhaelatte @injunier @justalildumpling @lanadreamie @dhyucktopia @143rachafm

[deandoesthingstome]

Exactly What His Heart Meant

Pairing: Pornstar!August Walker x Pornstar!Reader

Summary: August Walker has wanted you forever. You want him, too. It's perfect.

Word Count: 7.4K

Warnings: This is Pornstar!AU, okay? 18+ ONLY Drug and alcohol use, mentions of a three-way, generic anal, bad business practices, oral sex (F & M receiving), vaginal fingering, anal fingering, P in V missionary and doggy style, sex toys, pegging (gasp - yes I'm going there), aftercare. Love.

A/N: I am nervous, okay? This is not your average everyday August Walker, but I love him and I hope you do too. I have been wanting to do this since forever. I've posted a few blurbs in WIP tag games here and here. I gushed about the song that kicked the whole thing into high gear and the fic title is taken from "Do Ya Think I'm Sexy?" - Rod Stewart. Both songs can be found on the playlist.

Bonus points if you can find the nods to other HC characters. There is definitely one, maybe two or three if you squint hard. (These points don't get you anything, sorry.)

Playlist: Listen to the music of the night on Spotify here.

Header and dividers by me.

August owned his entrance like no other. The studio made sure to send a PA ahead to prep the DJ and once he heard the first strains of “Night Fever” spill out of the club, he stepped out of the shadows and headed to the entrance, ready to start his decent down into the lights and glitter and debauchery as soon as Here I am sounded through the speakers and a spotlight made its way to him.

The already celebratory crowd went wild as he struck the iconic pose and thrust his hips in time to the rhythm. He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face if he tried, no matter how he had protested his employer’s choice for him. He would have sworn on any stack of bibles he didn’t like disco and abhorred polyester, yet here he was gyrating away. First time for everything. Starting with enjoying this awards night and after-party.

Each one prior had a story already attached to it from the beginning of the night, starting with his inaugural ceremony and guaranteed newcomer award, and trailing through the end of every relationship he thought would be the one. He finally stopped assuming because they said yes to the event after a few months or more of dating, that meant they were saying yes to him forever. The next few years were brutal and lonely, not that he couldn’t find some starfucker to take home at the end of the night, but that wasn’t what he craved.

Tonight was Club Retro themed. Award ceremony glamor as usual, but a costume change was required somewhere on the way from the venue to the after-party if you wanted to really up your game. Arrive in club gear of whichever era you wanted, but arrive dressed to impress nonetheless. He wasn’t the only actor a studio had convinced to go for the Travolta look, but he was probably the most surprised to find himself exhilarated by it and the attention it received. He kept all three pieces of the white suit, but he ditched the dark blue shirt altogether. Maybe he didn’t have a full head of hair, but the ‘stache and chest hair on display held 70’s swagger and he was running with it. 

He grabbed a glass of champagne from one tray and a pill from another and set off into the crowd in search of the rest of his crew. He caught glimpses of the fresh-faced sweetheart who’d just inked a new deal grinding on the studio’s number two out on the dance floor and knew his plan to link them up had worked. The fans would eat them up, he knew it. 

Knew it better than the owner, who wanted August to break her in. Ethan had begun making some really bad casting and scripting decisions and August was glad his contract was coming to an end. He was starting to feel like he wanted to just blow the whole studio up, let loose with all the bullshit he knew about his boss and how he ran his business. The industry could be awful, plenty of horror stories, but August had initially thought he’d found a place to call home. 

What he’d begun to uncover about Ethan Hunt could fill a manifesto that would take the place down. And as crazy as it sounded, though he was tired of breaking in new talent, he wasn’t ready to be the reason all his friends lost their jobs. Not everyone was in a position to land on their feet. Regardless, at least now, with the sweetheart and the roughneck on a solid trajectory he wouldn’t be in the middle of something if tonight panned out the way he hoped.

Though, to be honest, it wasn’t looking good. He’d found his crew and then scanned the room for her with no luck. 

“She hasn’t shown up yet,” his agent purred in his ear. Kelis was always down to party whenever he had an itch no one else would scratch, and he appreciated how decidedly non-attached she always was. No clingy phone calls or pouting over non-existing anniversaries. It aggravated him, though, that she was looking to seduce him here, tonight of all nights. Especially because she knew where his mind would likely be, but it didn’t stop her from begging for his cock every now and then. He could tell she’d gotten the hint his look gave by the way she toned it way down to answer his next question.

“A few from her studio have shown up but she wasn’t with them and they wouldn’t tell me where she was. It was all very secretive. So at least let me have my way with you on the dance floor if you won’t take me home tonight. Please?”

He relented and found himself having the time of his life. Song after song flew by as he grabbed water then whisky, a line, then water, another line, then whisky, water, whiskey, whisky, water. Dancing with Kelis gave him a chance to forget about his frustration with his studio and everyone, here or not, for the moment. He let himself be free and felt a weightlessness he hadn’t in a long time. No call sheets waiting at home. No scenes to prep. No “scripts” to read. Tonight and the next two weeks were his and his alone. Time for some decisions.

He noticed the crowd had begun to thin, and realized he wanted some fresh air, so he peeled himself away from Kelis with a promise-to-return kiss and tap on the ass. He took the elevator to the rooftop bar and found himself a little amazed at the streaks of light just beginning to emerge in the distance. Time had really flown while he was having fun.

He was about to head towards the drinks when he spotted her leaning against the railing in the opposite direction. The white-golden hair flowing behind her was an obvious wig. He’d seen her step to the stage to accept multiple awards tonight (or is it last night now?) and she had looked just as gorgeous with her natural color as she did all done up in her Farrah waves now. An unexpected jolt of excitement coursed through his veins as he realized she’d also opted for a 70’s look, complete with a scandalously (though by whose standards?) short metallic silver skirt with slits on either side and what he assumed was a matching top, though with her back to him as she peered out over the awakening city, all he really saw where the two thin silver chains that criss-crossed across her back. They looked like they would hold nothing up.

But she was alone and he knew it was now or never, so he strolled around the roof-top pool to step up beside her.

"I’m glad I finally found you. I wanted to congratulate you. It's not often a producer gets awards for both behind and front of camera work," he opened.

She turned her head and beamed a dazzling smile in return before thanking him and offering her own congratulations along with her hand and then a surprisingly friendly hello hug.

“I saw you nailed Best Male Performer and Best Anal again. Your Missionary: Impossible series was a true stroke of genius. I wish I had thought of it first.”

“So she’s not immune,” August thought as he peeled himself away from her warm body. “She remembers my name.” At least she recognized his star status. Maybe she hadn’t forgotten him. He pressed his lips to the back of her hand and trained his eyes on her through his lashes.

“You know I’d love to have you join the cast,” he spoke as he finished the hello hand kiss and lifted his head to gaze directly at her. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen eyes that scream ‘spy’ quite as much as yours do.”

“And I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a producer acting for another studio. You’ve got balls to ask, that’s for sure,” she laughed, tossing back the rest of her whisky before grabbing another off the tray passing by.

“Where’ve you been all night? I tried to find you right after the ceremony, but you disappeared and I had to run for a wardrobe change.” August tossed a casual grin and motioned at the cheesiness of his costume, though inside he was kicking himself. 

The point of engaging wasn’t to offer her a part. How ridiculous! He’d been doing that for months now and she wasn’t biting. No. Tonight he was going to get answers. Why had she consistently denied him another shot with her? It had to be more than just the technicalities of trying to untangle ownership and percentages filming another studio’s producer would bring. She broke into his train of thought with an explanation of her quick and sudden departure from the award banquet and why she hadn’t arrived at the after party locale for what had to be at least a few hours.

“Already prepping material for next year. We had a newcomer attend with the studio tonight. He’s an absolute stud. Looking to get his name out there so we filmed his first scene backstage.”

August’s hopeful heart sank a little. He couldn’t expect her not to keep putting out material just because his advances might finally be successful, but it would take all his cool charm and guile to woo her if she was already cock-drunk tonight. He put out another feeler.

“You look well put back together already,” he commented, eyes tracing her figure with obvious intent.

“Oh not me. No, I was directing. Looking to nab that ‘behind the scene newcomer’ award next year,” she beamed, her smile still welcoming. “No, Mikey did a little gonzo three-way for his first official movie with Darkk Angel. We’re releasing it next week after a quick trip to post and then have him lined up for three more scenes next month. I’m wondering if we can talk AVN into a “most prolific” award.” Her laughter was infectious and he found himself with a wide grin, verging on goofy in spite of his aim.

“You’ve never directed? How have I missed that?” August sought to focus attention away from whoever this Mikey kid was and back on her completely, then mentally kicked himself again for admitting something that could only make him look desperate and maybe a little creepy. From his statement, and along with all the official asks from his agent, she had to think he was a stalker, completely obsessed with her. 

Not that he wasn’t. Not since that very first time. Her “first’ anal scene. He understood she had to be a little overwhelmed at that shoot with so many people on set. She had clearly already fucked the director (for a scene) and was now just taking on a few actors who were already on a rise. It was his last commitment to the old studio and then he was off to a new contract with Hunt. God, he wished he could have taken her with him. As it was, the only thing he kept was her scent that lingered not long enough.

"You know, I've asked my agent about another scene with you more times than any other actor. He never has a good enough reason to tell me no. What gives?" August inquired.

She debated telling him the truth. That she was completely enamored of him despite, only having met once, and afraid to ruin her own fantasy. Yes, she thought about him often. She’d be lying if she said otherwise.

But what if he refused her counter-offers? What if he didn't play the way she had come to discover she wanted sometimes, needed even?

She could accept if his big dick in her pussy or ass was all he'd agree to again for one scene. But she wanted more. More than a scene. More than a spectacle.

"Industry's hottest stars finally fucking again!" she imagined the trade headlines would scream, not bothering to temper her own ego about her status.

And which studio got the rights? His or hers? Of course she would never give up the rights to those shots, those stills, that video. It had been years since any studio other than the one she owned had any rights to any images of her. Why August Walker didn't make the same professional move she had was beyond her, but at least she could play the upper hand if it came down to it. It was power to own the rights to your own material and that power trumped his studio contracts. Or at least she'd make that case. Plus Ethan Hunt was a little bitch and she’d be damned if she contributed to his profits in any way.

Still, she couldn’t get past the concern that having his big dick in her ass again would ruin her for anyone else ever again. It wasn't the size. Hell, she'd had two almost equal to him in there just the other day.

No. It was the fantasy. Not only what she already knew of his prowess, though if she’d improved over time, and she knew she had, he had to have gotten better too. But also what she imagined she knew based on the stories she'd heard. Stories about his true personality as well as the image she made up in her head based on tidbits of their past and innuendos of his present.

On set, she'd heard he’d become a bit of a prick. Even worse when the storyline called for Daddy. Not that it didn't make her wet to watch. And daydream about. Calling him Daddy, mmmm.

Except that wasn't her. Not her kink. Not her need. Not really.

And off set? Well, lips are usually loose in the industry, but somehow very few factual stories about dating August Walker were out there. Most of what she'd heard was easily dispelled rumor.

No, he wasn't into animal play. Either kind. Good.

No, he didn't force his partners to sleep in separate rooms after finishing. Why would someone even start that rumor? To what end? 

Her private private detective had tracked down the source and verified quickly. It was a little bit of column a, a little bit of column b. The studio was looking to cash in on the mystery and intrigue of their dashing playboy, and a jilted date wanted more. Who wouldn't want more of him? But that choice was self-sabotaging to say the least.

She was well aware that some women, and men for that matter, liked to imagine their favorite actor to be the world's largest asshole. No, not that way. 

That was the way she liked to imagine him. And the basis for her declination. He'd never say yes. She was sure of it.

And yet here he was. Blushing at the mere mention. Maybe she should have countered with that when he first started seeking her out. But she hadn't been ready to give up the rush she felt every time a message from Hunt Club studios appeared in her inbox.

August felt the heat rise in his cheeks and knew someone out there would say he was blushing, but August Walker does not blush.

As she leaned in, he swiped another surreptitious peek at her gorgeous and barely covered tits, though he was so smooth no one could have seen this time. Not that it mattered. He was right about the thin silver chains holding onto barely anything up front. Where she found tissue paper thin metallic material, he had no idea but her nipples showed through what little fabric there was making up the plunging neckline of the deep-vee tank, as if they weren’t also practically peeking out of the top as it was. She had them on display for a reason. But he was trying to make a move here. Trying to differentiate himself from the rest of the industry players and hangers-on hoping for a hook-up after the awards.

Champagne and liquor had flowed all night, powder cut, pills popped. He was tipsy but it was really the sunrise inching its way into the sky behind her, here on this rooftop bar next to the pool full of drunken, naked bodies, and the angelic halo circling the crown of her head that had him staring back into her eyes in no time, enraptured. Well, that and her reply.

“I have certain … desires that I’m not convinced you’d be amenable to and I didn’t want to alienate you.”

He went on to ask, no - insist, she explained her terms, right here right now. And she obliged, clarifying that she didn’t intend to be filmed at all. That her interest in climbing into bed with him was related only to the burning desire she’d felt to track him down, beg him for more, practically every day since that shoot. And the thing that convinced her not to bother was the never ending stream of talent she’d seen draped around him months, years later. 

But she wouldn’t, couldn’t deny that she wanted him. Wanted to relive that moment and then build on it. Take the scene farther than was written. Fuck him right off the page and into her life forever. It was indescribable the way he felt listening to her narrate her desire to own him. She was only mentioning the bedroom, but he got the feeling she meant the heart as well.

Still, she was being mysterious with the details, so August began to mention specifics. What he wouldn’t do.

"I won't lick your boots," he'd said with a grin after a shorter than expected list, still wavering on if he actually meant to convey the opposite.

"Maybe not," she replied before leaning in and whispering in his ear as he tilted down to meet her. It was clear from her next sentence that she’d finally figured out he’d say yes. He was practically begging for it right here in front of these few end-of-the evening stragglers. "But you will take every inch of me."

Negotiations had already begun and this was just ink on the dotted line. Along with a string of consent questions with compatible answers and now she knew his safeword and he knew hers. It wasn’t what it used to be. Because things can change. But not his desire for her.

He brushed past her non-binding handshake and drew her in for a confirmation kiss, hands gently pulling her waist towards him. “You still smell the same. It drives me crazy,” he admitted before pressing his lips to hers with a smile. Then he broke the kiss, which had begun to turn lascivious even for the nature of the event, afraid they’d never make it off the roof-top if he didn’t.

He gave a deceptively shy smile and knowing nod to Kelis as he passed her on his way out with the true object of his desire draped along his arm.

She sent her limo off with whatever crew was left at the party before climbing into the back of his. They had no sooner pulled away from the curb and begun to make their way to his hi-rise apartment building than the driver’s shield went up and she went down, unzipping his trousers and slipping her hand in to coax him out. 

She had gotten incredibly better at sucking dick in these interim years. But it was like she was finally home. Like her mouth opened magically around him to hold him close and taste his skin. It took everything in his power not to blow his load down her throat in the car. He wanted to be in her pussy when he came and there wasn’t much he wanted more at this moment.

He managed to pull her off and get her back on the seat, legs spread and ready to take his shoulders as he slipped his tongue deep inside her core. Moving the floss she’d bothered to pull on out of his way wasn’t hard in the least. He had her screaming by the time the limo pulled up outside his building.

August draped his suit jacket over her shoulders before he helped her out of the car and into the lobby. When the elevator doors closed around them, she turned and pressed him back into the wall, staring up at him with hunger and power equally.

“That’s the last time you call the shots tonight. I’m taking my shoes off as soon as we walk in your door, so you can’t accuse me of asking you to lick my boots. But you will be on your knees and you will put your mouth back on my pussy and do that one more time before anything else happens tonight. Understood?”

He stared down at her with amusement that morphed into understanding that ended in solemnity before the ding at his floor broke the silence.

“Yes ma’am,” he finally replied, resigned to her whim. He opened the lock with practiced ease, nothing shaking out of fear but only vibrating with anticipation. How had he missed her meaning all those years ago? 

“I wish I could show you how this feels,” she’d whispered in his ear as he held her chest tight against his. “But it’s nothing compared to how it feels from behind.”

At the time he thought she had meant for him to turn her around, still on top of him but back to chest. So he did. And she liked it. She came like a banshee and that squeeze is something they can’t fake. That’s what wins the awards anyway. The audience knows it’s acting, but when they can tell it’s something the actor actually wants, when the chemistry is kinetic, the high is so much higher. 

Clearly she’d had so much more in mind. When she came back down, he made sure to check the front door lock before he turned back to scoop her quivering body into his arms and carry her down the hall to his bedroom.

“Don’t think I’m anywhere near done with you just because I’m a wreck right now,” she called to him as he set her onto his bed. “Where are you going?”

“I would never think you’d consider that enough for an evening. I want to freshen up, if you don’t mind. May I?” August quirked an eyebrow awaiting her response and it was clear he’d come right back to the bed if she forbade it. No questions asked. But she allowed it and that only made him ache for her more. He’d be quick.

“Damn right you will!” she called out after him before ridding herself of her own garments. 

Her hand must have found its way to the soaking mess between her legs and this is how August found her when he stepped out of the bathroom a very short while later, rubbing a towel over his head after peeling it off his body. He watched her luxuriate in the slippery slide feel of her fingers dipping in and out, rubbing, pinching, pumping, pumping, pumping.

He dipped carefully onto the bed. He had no desire to startle her out of her joy, he only wanted to witness it up close. He crawled alongside her and watched as her chest heaves softened and listened as her sighs became longer. When she finally opened her eyes on a deep inhale, he smiled at her.

“May I join you?” So respectful.

“Kiss me,” she commanded, and while he heeded she lifted his arm and guided his hand between her legs. “And touch me,” she whispered into his mouth. 

He obeyed. His fingers drifted through her folds and made use of the slick that remained to press up into her. One, two, one, two. And now three. And now she’s grinding up against his hand and breaking the kiss to demand more and he’s giving it to her but it’s not enough, is it?

“More,” she cried out. “Fuck me, August.”

He was grateful at that moment for two revelations from the rooftop. He already knew his own status, testing often despite Hunt’s lackadaisical studio regulations. But she had shared that her studio adopted the standard of routine and regular testing early on and therefore she knew exactly what her status was, too. And, coupled with the fact that she had the implant, she had no qualms going bare. All these things led to the next thing he was grateful for and that was the feel of her pussy wrapped all the way around him as he slipped his prodigious cock deep inside her. 

He mused he could do this all night. Or rather all day and into the night, when the moon began to rise again. Because it wasn’t night at all. It was broad daylight now and it was streaming in through the mirrored windows. Nobody could see it, even if they did find themselves on level with the height of his apartment. But no curtains meant he could see the way the sunlight brightened her face and it made him want to see all of her.

“Will you take it off, too?” he asked, staring down at her while he pistoned his hips into hers and felt her open and warm around him. “Please?”

He wasn’t used to begging. As much as he wasn’t a blusher, he definitely wasn’t a beggar but he found himself wanting to do anything for her and she wanted him to beg. Or at least ask nicely. And he wanted to obey. For the first time, maybe ever, August Walker wasn’t in charge.

She obliged and pulled the wig off easily. It wasn’t even pinned on, there was so much bang to cover the cap. All that meant was she was able to free her natural hair with ease and he was thankful. Now she lay bare before him and he got to take a good long, up close and personal look before she took it all away.

Faster than he would have preferred she slipped back and eased him out, but turned just as quickly to take him in her mouth. August let his eyes fall closed while he relished the feeling of her mouth around his cock again, but just when it started feeling really good, it also started feeling too good. If she continued he was going to come and he really meant it when he decided he wanted to be inside her for that. And not her mouth.

“Please,” it was practically a whisper. She almost hadn’t heard. But she let go with a pop and asked.

“What was that?”

“Please,” he begged again, raspy but with sound this time, voice hitching as she took him back in her mouth for just the briefest of sucks.

“What are you asking for?”

When he pleaded again with a cracked voice, she smiled as she let go.

“What is it, August? Huh? What do you want? Or not want?”

“Please…please don’t.” he stuttered as she continued to toy with him. Dick in and then out of his mouth with no concern for his predicament.

“Say it, August. Ask nicely.”

“Don’t make me come,” he begged, even as she sank to wrap her lips around him once more. “Please.”

“If that’s what you want. You only have to ask. Nicely.” She was so proud of him and he could feel that. Could tell she’d do anything for him. And let him do anything for her.

“Let me fuck you,” he asked. “Please. Just ….”

“Don’t bother saying it, you and I both know 5 minutes turns into 20 in no time,’ she laughed with him as she lay back with her legs spread wide for him. He stayed kneeling between her legs and watched her face explode with pleasure as he rocked deep and strong inside of her. He wasn’t trying to overcome her, wasn’t looking to establish any kind of dominance. Not on purpose at least. Because the fact of the matter was, that no matter how much he wanted to let her be in charge, it just came so naturally to him. It was hard to drop that mantle. Especially while fucking into her and watching her fall apart around him.

Then she shook her head and through sheer will, dragged herself back from the precipice to snake an arm up his chest, fingers drifting to his neck and drawing him down against her. 

“Kiss me again, August,” she commanded and he obliged with no hesitation. It wasn’t that he couldn’t resist and instead put her right back in the trance his cock had caused, but he didn’t want to. They’d agreed on this night. Agreed what it would mean. He was finally getting what he’d craved all these years. And so was she.

Their tongues tangled while his fingertips traveled over velvety skin, her legs wrapped around hips, his thick member pistoned in and out of her wet and slippery cunt that she controlled so well. She hadn’t been wrong. August imagined he could stay like this forever if she’d let him, drowning in her glory, ego stroked with every gasp and whimper and cry of hers. It was music to his ears. He’d heard enough fake moans and pants over the years to know what the real thing sounded like and he never wanted to give it up.

When he felt her squeeze tight around him for the second time, he began to slow, sure that more than twenty minutes had passed but completely uninterested in confirming his suspicion. No, he wanted her on her knees again.

“Can I have you from behind?” he murmured in her ear after kissing his way along her cheek and neck. “Just for 5 minutes.”

She could feel his grin, but before she could compose an appropriate response, he’d shifted, changed tempo and hit a different spot that had her howling and fighting the urge to beg him for more. Even then brief respite she’d have while they switched positions should allow her to gather her wits and tamp down her desire to just let him rail her into the next day. Because tonight was for something more. So she pushed him back away from her, flipped and pulled herself to all fours while crawling towards the center of the bed.

With a seductive glance over her shoulder, she called to him, “Come and get it, stud.”

Five minutes in heaven. That’s all she was going to allow him. She pressed her chest down into the bed and let him drag her hips into the air, flesh captured under his strong fingers. She screamed into the sheets as August directed her pleasure with practiced skill and just when she felt she couldn’t hold on any longer, he slipped a saliva-coated thumb into her ass and sent her reeling. He’d timed it perfectly. 

“You’re done,” she fought through her haze to flip to her back and clarify. “We still have a deal, right?”

She watched him stroking himself lazy and slow to stay hard while his eyes blinked shut with relief almost involuntarily. 

“Yes,” he replied, his exhale full of yearning. “Will you show me?”

“Show you what, August? Hmm?” she asked with a tilt of her head, pleased he was finally ready to give in to what he’d already agreed to back on that rooftop.

“Show me how it feels.” It wasn’t a question, yet still not a command. He’d never dare to command her. Not until she was ready for him to. And that wasn’t tonight.

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask me that since we met.”

All those years. All that time. August closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and told himself it’s fine. It’ll be fine. He pulled back a bit from the ledge that he wanted to step over for missing her meaning all along. As if she could read his mind, she spoke from somewhere that felt like a dream.

“I’m glad you waited though. I wasn’t ready either. I was trying to get over my nerves and thought a little brazen tease directed at the top talent on set would help. But I’ve discovered I really do like sharing that experience, knowing I can make a man feel the way he makes me feel. Make him understand how much better it is when it's from someone who cares."

When he opened his eyes, she was pulling herself up to her knees to meet him. He felt her hands trace along his chest as she pressed her lips to his. It was almost sweet, but definitely a relief. She really did want this as much as he did.

For a mini-eternity, they let their tongues tangle and hands roam. August shivered as her nails traced down his back with the perfect dig and smiled into her lips as he thought about the red lines he’d be left with the next day. He cradled the nape of her neck as even on knees he towered over her and let a hand drift down the soft skin of her side and around her waist to cup her ass.

When her hands finally landed in the same spot on him, he felt another layer of tension release as she caressed and squeezed each cheek with passion. She broke the kiss and nuzzled down his chest, landing on her elbows before him. With eagerness, she took hold of his still invigorated member, gave a few soft strokes, and then put him back in her warm, wet, inviting mouth. 

But this blowjob had an ulterior motive that August felt as soon as it turned sloppy and her saliva began to drip and pool around him. With a now slick hand, she slipped her fingers off the base of his cock and in between his legs, tracing past the waxed-bare skin off his balls and teasing his entrance.

She circled and smoothed and kneaded until he finally felt a finger ease past the first ring of muscle and he had to put a hand on her head to slow the bob that was already threatening to pull his orgasm too soon. Surely she didn’t want that, did she?

August dropped his head back with a groan of pleasure as she let her spit drop onto her fingers again before pressing a second digit inside, just beginning to open him up to all her possibilities. It already felt so, so good. If this was all she did for him, it was worth it, but not really what he wanted. He’d had a few other lovers tease him like this, but he always stopped them short, still too nervous to let them go all the way to where he needed.

He’d kept this part of himself secret, shared it with no one, tested it only when alone. He knew it was stupid to hide this craving, especially given how exposed he allowed himself to be on film. But this was something different. Something personal. Private. That’s what he told himself. And he let his stature in the industry dictate the type of man he was in a bedroom, with a woman but without the cameras, for far too long.

His head was spinning as her tongue licked his length and her fingers teased and touched. She was pressing and pushing deeper and when she finally found his spot it took every ounce of willpower to maintain composure. He still wanted more of her, still didn’t want to come yet.

It dawned on him then that she hadn’t brought an overnight bag with change of clothes for the morning or toys for the evening. Just her ridiculously sexy wisp of an outfit and a tiny clutch that couldn’t have hidden even a bottle of lube, let alone the tool she needed to fulfill their bargain. She’d promised him he’d take every inch of her. Could she really have meant only this? Was she expecting him to come as she beckoned inside him?

“I can hear your thoughts, August” she purred up at him with a smile, mouth off his dick, but fingers still toying with him. “I don’t want to stop here either. I’m sure you can help me out, can’t you?”

She felt him tense and knew he was weighing the pros and cons of admitting what she had guessed when he agreed to take her home immediately without offering to make a stop along the way. August had his own equipment. No doubt about it.

“It’s okay,” she soothed, removing her fingers completely and returning to her knees to kiss him hard and deep before speaking to him on his level. “You don’t have to hide anymore. Show me what you need.” 

She watched the seas of his eyes storm with fear before settling into calm as she held his gaze with no judgment, no mockery. She kissed him again, licked into the space between his lips and felt the passion as he held her tight, almost holding on for his life while he kissed her back.

When he finally broke free, he stepped back off the bed and opened the nightstand to remove a bottle of lube before he moved across the room to a mirrored armoire. He opened the doors and removed a sleek, black box which he brought back to place slowly on the nightstand, clearly deep in thought. And then he hesitated, hands resting on the lid of the box, head down.

“I don’t…” he started, and she felt a small ache in her heart. She had never seen him so vulnerable. Not that she spent much time alone with him at all, but this was truly a side she hadn’t quite expected after everything she knew about him.

“We can take our time, August,” she spoke with a careful tone and no desire to spook him. He remained still and she felt reassured he wasn’t running, not in his mind or his body. When he spoke, she had to stifle a small laugh for fear she would send him running from misplaced shame.

“I only mean, I don’t have a harness for you.” He turned, fingertips of only one hand still on the closed box, eyes scanning hers for understanding. And she understood completely.

She moved closer to the edge of the bed and grinned at him. “Oh, August. Oh baby, this is what has you worried? You think I can’t make it good for you if I’m not wearing it?” She watched this new layer of tension begin to melt away as he registered her words. “August Walker, I meant what I said and I can’t wait to fuck you however I can. And believe me, I know how to make it good.”

She waited for him to relax, to speak, to return to his usual manner and let her back in. Then she took a calculated breath, dropped the timbre of her voice, and called to him.

“And you’re going to let me, aren’t you August?”

Her eyes dropped just in time to see the twitch in his still hard-cock and she knew he was back and ready to let her have him. He flipped the lid to the lacquer box with one finger and revealed a small treasure trove of devices, any of which she’d be thrilled to treat him with. With no idea how prepared he really was, she let him choose. 

“Will you start with this?” August handed her not the smallest, but not the largest either and she accepted willingly. “It’s been a minute.”

With complete understanding she led him back into bed on his knees before grabbing the lube from the nightstand and setting about her business. Kisses first. Deep and hungry. She wanted his tongue down her throat and he obliged while she held the dildo and lube in one hand and stroked his rock hard cock with the other. 

Before too long, she’d dropped the toy to the bed and flipped the lid to the tube, using proprioception to drop several dollops onto her open hand before reaching between his spread legs while still commanding his kiss. Her fingers smoothed the viscous fluid over his entrance and dipped a little in with a finger before she reached for the prosthetic and smeared the rest around the tip and down the base.

Her lips left his reluctantly as she ordered him to hands and knees while she maneuvered behind him. With practiced skill, she massaged and manipulated her fingers inside him once more, listening for the moans and groans that told her he was ready for her to place the tip alongside a finger and ease the toy inside. She watched him carefully, moving slowly and waiting for him to relax fully before she slipped the whole thing in and he took it with the sweetest grunt.

“You’re doing so good for me, August. Just like I knew you would. Does it feel good?” she questioned, while gently pulling and pushing, twisting and pressing, smiling when he answered in the affirmative. With each motion she listened for the sounds that would tell her where and how it felt best and she was quick to learn his needs.

“Fuck…just like that,” he begged and hitched back into her, already wanting more.

“Impatient,” she teased lightly as she shifted to the side so she could both lean over to capture his lips again and still work the toy in and out of his slowly writhing body. She kept him wanting, shifting the speed and direction, for as long as he could last before he finally begged for the real thing.

She left him face down and ass up while she switched gear, careful to add more lube to both him and the larger phallus. But when she was ready to finally give him what he wanted, she paused for just a moment to consider orientation. She was certain positioning him to face the mirror would be too much for this first time together, but there would be others, she was sure now.

Other times to see the exquisite pain she knew would soon drip down his face as she wielded the apparatus and gave him every inch he asked for. She ran a hand up his back and grabbed onto his shoulder for more leverage as she worked him into a frenzy. He was bucking back into her and the moans that drifted from his lips were music to her ears. All the practice and care she’d taken, learning how to please a lover this way were paying off.

She knew how it felt, knew how he was riding each high and low. Watched him relax into his pleasure, at times letting her control him completely before he shifted his hips and dug into the bed with hands and knees to find purchase that would allow him to grind hard onto the sizable dildo she brandished with expertise. She’d go all night like this if he wanted.

As his circuits finally broke, she could see the waves of pleasure begin to ripple along his spine. He was coming furiously hard, perhaps harder than he had in a long time, no matter how many uses this toy of his had gotten on his own. She was that good at sensing and feeling and pushing and pulling exactly how and when and where he needed.

And August definitely needed. That much was abundantly clear as he collapsed fully to the bed, panting and gasping for air as he rode the waves of his lingering orgasm. She could see him twitching and knew the feeling because it was exactly how she felt after everyone of the orgasms he’d given her tonight. Like an explosion of sensation she never wanted to come down from and she’d given that to him finally.

She left him to catch his breath and stepped to the bathroom to run warm water over a soft washcloth and grab a fresh towel on the way back. When he was cleaned and dry, she tucked into the covers with him and pulled him to her, guiding his head to her chest.

“You feel okay? Need anything else right now?” she asked him quietly as her hand drifted up and down his back.

“I wanted to come inside you,” August admitted with an exhausted sigh.

“We’re gonna have a lifetime of that.”

Everything HC Taglist: If this isn't your thing, no hard feelings? (as always, let me know if you want on or off; if you've asked and your aren't here, try me again but know that Tumblr sometimes doesn't let me tag everyone.)

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[vhstown]

miles morales x you headcanons

— 1610!miles x gn!reader (friends to lovers)

warnings: just fluff lol (miles is a dork)

note: normal spider-man au, a little tiny bit long. v self indulgent and oddly specific but i tried to keep them in character + inclusive 😭 wrote this at 3am, somewhat edited

For context, you were Miles' first real friend at Brooklyn Visions. You kept running into each other, and he had a strong liking to you after you helped him escape the wrath of the hall monitors without question. Becoming fast friends, Miles is quickly involved in every part of your life at the academy, and he even more quickly develops a crush on you. Luckily for you, he completely forgets about the shoulder touch. The man has no game when he's around you, his best friend, though it's not like he needs to.

Miles draws you a lot, to the point where it's almost obsessive. You're in his sketchbook, class notes, a loose scribble on the back of a receipt. You have your hair different one day and he scrambles to capture it somewhere without you noticing. He has it down to a science, and he tries to convince himself it's absolutely normal to be able to draw you perfectly from memory.

When you find out, he wants a portal to open up and swallow him whole. It's more endearing than anything, though. It's not like you haven't been stealing glances of his portraits in the middle of class anyway.

You may or may not tease him relentlessly about it, but eventually, you get comfortable whenever he slips out his favourite pencil and you pretend not to catch his subtle, studying glances.

Miles loves his headphones, sure. He begged his mom to get them for him ages ago, promising he'd put them to good use. They're basically glued to his ears, that is, unless he's talking to you. He always takes them off, listening intently to whatever you have to say, even if you're making small talk or just saying hi.

Sharing music with you is always at the back of his mind until he finally caves and buys a pair of wired earphones. It becomes routine to listen to something together whenever you hang out, pulled a little closer to each other by the wire playing Sunflower between you.

And yes, he made you a playlist. He's definitely embarrassed about it at first, and listens to it a number of times beforehand to make sure you'd like it. It's full of songs that make him think of you and ones you expressed interest in. He's definitely overthought it, but it's worth your reaction and seeing the Spotify like count increase to one. He listens to it more than you do, though.

Miles is nervous about telling his mom about you. About the both of you. Yeah, he's already told her every detail of you and your life, but he's scared of what she'd think of meeting you in person; it's not like she's hyperaware of the boy she's known for all his life suddenly changing when you're brought up, right? Rio is definitely a mama bear, even if Miles gets the brunt of it sometimes, but when he brings you over for the first time you feel more than welcome. Miles' mom and dad are constantly whispering to each other during dinner trying to make you feel comfortable, and you catching one of Rio's half-scowls at her husband when he asks a stupid question. Either way, there are hugs and kisses at the door, and you leave with your heart and your stomach full. They might just be your new parents. (Maybe in the future?)

Miles definitely helps you with school when he can, especially with more technical subjects. He always drops everything when you message him with a math problem or right before your science finals. He's up on call with you til the sun's up, the both of you questioning your sanity and basic reason when it's really just an excuse to spend time with each other (though the circumstances are unideal.) You send him your English essay to read over one day and he painstakingly looks through it to find things to compliment you on; he has no idea what you're talking about.

And calls with you are one of his guilty pleasures. When he's sure Ganke's not paying attention or his mom's checked his room for the last time, he drops you a hopeful message. You're tired, but you find yourself justifying each time you call until 3 in the morning, talking about the same couple of things. He likes hearing about your day, where you've been, what hilarious or strange thing happened in your classes. He likes hearing your voice most of all; it's even more comforting when it's muffled by sleep and your thoughts come out in jumbled repetitions of the same thing. One day, you fall asleep on call. Miles doesn't bother to decline it, pulling his blanket over him and letting his eyes close to the sound of your breathing.

When the two of you actually get together, he's even more nervous than he was bringing you over for the first time. His brain short-circuits when you say you like him back, and he just says "yeah" or nods to everything you say. He can't believe you like him. Outside of being Spider-Man, he's a bit of a nobody (he just likes keeping to himself). Not to you, though. You're his only other friend besides Ganke (more like the sneaker thief) at Brooklyn Visions, and now he's yours. Despite the ample advice from his uncle, he misses your first kiss. (You try again after a lot of laughter and it's all okay when he gets used to it.)

But... he might be getting too used to it. In fact, now that he knows you're okay with the scary concept of kissing, he's always holding your hand, brushing away strands of your hair, even just holding onto your sleeve by his fingertips. Miles always steals kisses, especially before he runs off to his class on the other side of the academy (he insists on walking you to yours. Yes, he's been late multiple times.) You swear you'll get him back for those one-sided kisses, but the debt piles up, and you eventually get used to it too.

When he hasn't seen you in a while (after slinking off for his friendly neighborhood duties), he pulls you into the most enveloping, bone-crushing hug. His head is pressed into your shoulder and arms almost double-wrapped around your torso like he hasn't seen you in years. It feels like he could pick you up, no matter how much you insist he'll never be able to lift you. It gives you a strange sense of security, and you never question why someone of his stature could probably throw you like a tennis ball.

Though, when you do manage to show him affection before he slips away, he totally melts at your touch. It's like his crush forms all over again, like it's your first kiss all over again. You like to bombard him with love just to see him go quiet and flustered and hear that very specific laugh he's had since his crush formed. He likes having you close, no matter what you're doing. Even if you're both on your phones, he always lets you lean against him or has an arm around you. When you catch him off guard with a little peck on the face, you notice him frantically looking through his home screen like it's the most interesting thing in the world.

You'll get him back one day. Until then, you'll chase him around the whole of Brooklyn if you have to. He's happy to be caught, even happier to be your boyfriend. Maybe one day he'll even give you his drawings of you. Or his entire sketchbook, it's basically all just you. Recently, it's been made up of your smiles. Maybe he'll just keep the sketchbook for himself.

🕸️💫🎧

thank you for reading ^^ this is my first post so any suggestions wld be appreciated. this is my secondary blog so i can't reply but feel free to drop an ask! (not taking requests atm)

read the rest of my atsv headcanons here!