#if you write down a fantasy you had about dating the actor himself

[alwaysbethewest]

Hot take: it’s okay to fantasize about celebrities, actually

[abrcmswrld]

Can you give us some Calvin, and celebrity ( actor/model/singer, you can pick ) reader head-cannons ♡ ♡

Calvin Weir-Fields x Actor!Reader

Authors Note: My first request! Ah!! Thank you anon, I hope this isn’t too short. I think I’d like to keep this dynamic in mind for a possible longer fic in the future but for now enjoy some headcanons!

Warnings: Literally like one suggestive sentence, the rest is pretty fluffy with some typical Calvin jealousy

It takes Calvin a bit to adjust to dating an actor. I mean, you’re talented, he knows this. You’re actually made for this job, and he can’t help but notice how happy you look doing so. But he can’t seem to fight off that tingling in his stomach that comes with watching you interact with your male coworkers.

It’s a bad habit that’s carried on through past relationships and yet he thinks to himself ‘you have to give him credit for trying!’ He’s been a good boy. Hasn’t brought up how much he hates the way that your male coworker brushes your arm in that one scene.

It’s why he loves attending those red carpet events with you. Sure, it’s not an event to celebrate him, but it makes him feel just as good to have you dressed up and holding the bend of his elbow. It makes him feel such pride having the cameras capturing your beauty next to him. Ah yes that’s his partner. You come home to him at the end of the day and nobody else.

It fuels his fantasies in the bedroom. He waits till he has you totally bare and pressed close to him to growl out a quick “You’re mine.” You don’t mind, because yes, you’re all his. You knew he was a jealous person from the start, but you can tell he holds it in. It’s something you can appreciate. Of course it hasn’t always been that way.

You had brought Calvin to a special premiere of the latest movie you had worked on. It’s not a romance film by any means but there is a bit of love interest drama that involved a quick kiss scene between your character and your costar’s character. You hadn’t told Calvin about the kiss during the filming, because well, how do you even bring that sort of thing up. Would he even want to know? Maybe that one was on you.

The car ride home was quiet. You dread the worst, hell maybe he just didn’t enjoy the movie. As soon as you’re parked outside your shared apartment, you sigh. “Did you not enjoy the movie?” He only stares at you for a second. You cannot meet his eyes. “It was a fine movie. I just wish-“ He stops himself, giving himself a second to find the words he needs to use. “Why didn’t you tell me about the kiss?”

You’re picking at your cuticles and looking down. “I guess I just didn’t think it was a big deal. It’s just part of the job. When you’ve done it for long enough you learn to tune those things out.” You finally meet his eyes. “I’m your boyfriend. Don’t you think I deserve to know when you’re kissing other men at work?”

You’re stunned by his words as they hold a slight edge to them that is crossing the line. “Calvin, it’s my job. I’m sorry for not telling you and if it’ll make you feel better I will take that into consideration for the future, but you can’t be disrespectful.” You can see his eyes soften. It takes him a moment to respond, seemingly wrestling with an internal compass. He settles on a quiet whisper, “I’m sorry.”

You give him a reassuring smile before giving his lips a deep kiss. It leaves his eyelids heavier as he tries to lean in for more, only to stopped by your finger on his lips. “It’s okay. Let’s go inside, I’m starving.”

He secretly loves a couple of paparazzi experiences. Although you may loath them, they make him feel so incredibly special being seen out holding your hand and hugging you close. He also loves when he is asked about you and your inspirations on his writings in interviews. He could talk about you all day.

At the end of the day, Calvin has learned to embrace the talents each of you have and the life that you share with each other. He will always bring you flowers to your rare theater performance. You will always give him feedback on his rough drafts. He will always give you a smile and acknowledge your presence in the audience of his book readings.

In your collective world full of fame and fiction, you can always bask in the warm calm of Calvin’s arms wrapped around you as you sleep. It’s the one thing you can enjoy for yourselves without all of the eyes on you, and you’re so grateful for that feeling.

In your collective world full of fame and fiction, you can always bask in the warm calm of Calvin’s arms wrapped around you as you sleep. It’s the one thing you can enjoy for yourselves without all of the eyes on you, and you’re so grateful for that feeling.

In your collective world full of fame and fiction, you can always bask in the warm calm of Calvin’s arms wrapped around you as you sleep. It’s the one thing you can enjoy for yourselves without all of the eyes on you, and you’re so grateful for that feeling.

[dialsdrnk]

continued from here. @moonvvrites.

if you had asked axel how he thought his date with steven ( no longer in this episode ) would end, he wouldn't have been able to guess 'oh, you know, by kissing charlie in the rain' — but the most surprising part of that isn't him ditching the guy he promised his night to for charlie. nah. not at fucking all. that's how this works: she calls, he comes. and he'd never tell her just how many dates he's walked out of for her, he just isn't that kind of guy ( not one to guilt, and if he has anything to say about it, never going to be the one who makes her feel bad — there are enough people in her life who do that and will continue to do that ), and his devotion is no one's burden but his own, hopeless as it is. or... isn't? it's apparently, maybe, not hopeless devotion. the thing is, he isn't sure what the limit with it is, how far it can go. how deep the roots really are — 'cause if he was more aware of this thing between them, he'd go fucking crazy. he's allowed to be in love with his best friend and just not address it ever, alright? that's how things work around here. and axel thinks he knows the rules to this by now, the ins and outs of pretending he's just her hype man, he should be an expert. but the thing about charlie lomax is she isn't really something you can learn: she just happens, to you, around you. try as he might to pick out a pattern the way his brain so often likes to try to do, he can't. like now, when she's rushing to him in the rain, their bodies thumping together with the force of her running into his arms, his arms folding so naturally around the small of her back that you'd think they were two puzzle pieces. like now, when she's touching his neck the way you don't touch a friend and she's closing the distance between their faces in a way that he's only dreamt, and dreamt, and dreamt about.

and dreamt.

it's funny, because as much as he's thought about their fictional first kiss, he's always much more involved in the lips moving part. in his fantasy, he finally tells her how he feels ( laughable, this alone; axel verbalizing a feeling? please, bitch. write better fantasies. ), holds her face in his hands, and kisses her deeply. leave it to charlie to subvert every part of that, kissing him so hard and so fast and so full of something he's too afraid to put a name to — so let's just say it's full of everything, so much that he's stunned, frozen. his lips moved, he kissed her back, he did, but it was almost this delayed reaction; like he didn't know what to do with what was happening, which is not a problem he has ever had romantically. and axel doesn't know what his face does when she pulls away, but he's willing to bet it's nothing, because he doesn't feel facial movement until well after she's stepped away and started joking about it already. what he feels happening on his face is his eyebrows pinching together, furrowing hard, and his mouth tugging down. i'm clearly still pretty fucked up.

axel's eyes close and he inhales, hard. yeah. that sounds about right. he gives himself a moment, here, because he knows he needs it; he's sure charlie doesn't mean to tug at a sore spot ( how many girls had said or implied at some point that they'd need to be fucked up to kiss him? who knows. ) in saying that, but god, does she ever. for the first time, charlie's steps aren't followed — he doesn't make himself her shadow right off the bat. he lets her get about halfway to the nearest stop sign before his fingers fidget open the umbrella he's holding, the one he'd walked up with but dropped away when she collided with him, and then falls in line behind her. " yeah, " he agrees just to agree, still giving himself a moment here, at least as long as he has before he catches up with her. once they're side by side, the worlds greatest actor has returned to the stage, all signs of upset washed away with the rain dampening his face. he moves so that the umbrella covers more of her than it does him, his eyes side-cast towards her as they walk. in another world, in a world where he was braver, he'd kiss her again. he'd do it right this time. he'd say you have no idea how long i've wanted to do that. but tonight is not about him, and even if it became about him, he actually can't stomach that. so he fixes his concern on her and focuses back on what matters. " it's his loss. the girlfriend guy, i mean. " he'd only gotten a little of what happened over text. he's still gonna side with charlie, anyway. " my place isn't far from here. we should probably get you in some dry clothes, huh? "

[mythos-writes]

Hi. I love your work btw. Can I ask for a headcanon of Cillian Murphy x BIPOC reader who is working at the Peaky Blinder set but is secretly an author? She wrote a fantasy story revolving her culture with an enemies to lovers plot and the hot enemy is, subconsciously, inspired by Cillian's Tommy Shelby and her secret is ousted because her novel debuted number 1 at the New York Times Bestseller. Thanks.

YES YES YES!

There is a part two to this request, but I will put it all together in one :) I hope you like it!!!

Cillian Murphy x BIPOC Reader, Peaky Blinder cast x BIPOC Reader (Platonic)

Peaky Blinders Masterlist

(Y/N) was one of the artists of Peaky Blinders. She has been with the show since the beginning

She has always gotten along with the cast and had followed the development of the cast and their characters

But what the cast didn’t know, was that (Y/N) was an up and coming author

Every spare moment that she had, she was working on her book. She had been working on this novel for almost 2 years and her environment really influenced her

With her environment being a gangster tv show, all of her characters are inspired by them

Especially Cillian’s portrayal of the headman himself, Thomas Shelby

With her main character, Blanche, trying to find herself in a post-war world, but when she meets a ‘businessman’, Henry, that will anything to get what he wants, she gets thrown into his world and he tries to keep her away, but if life was only that easy...

When she got picked up by Siman & Schuster, she was ecstatic, finally, her dream was coming true

Her book “The Son of the Isle” turned into the most anticipated novel to be released

Book bloggers and tabloids from both Europe and North America were eating it all up

When it came time for the release date, they wanted to get her into London to celebrate it all, but that also meant that she would have to take time away from the set

So she talked to her boss (Idk if it’s the director or not) to get the week off.

And when the news that you were taking some time off, the cast now wanted to know what you were doing

“So I heard that you will be away for a week,” Cillian says while sitting in the makeup chair

“Well, you heard right. It’s only a few days, you guys will survive without me,” she says jokingly.

“So where are you going to take you away from us for a week?” Helen questions. (Y/N) has to think about her answer carefully.

“Well, I’ve been called into London for the week,” she replies, powdering down Cillian’s face.

“What for?” Paul asks while walking into the makeup room.

“A project,” she answers, still not giving them what they want.

“What project?” Cillian asks, now more curious than ever.

“Well it’s a secret, I can’t go tell you lot now can I?” she replies, earning groans from the three. “Don’t worry, you all will find out soon. Now, I think you three have some scenes to film,” (Y/N) states while dusting down her clothes

“Yeah, yeah,” Helen says while getting up.

Cillian was last to leave

“So you won’t even tell your favourite actor,” he says, trying to give her puppy dog eyes

“Wow, you think I know Henry Cavill?” she sassy. Cillian’s face quickly falls, causing her to laugh.

“I’m joking Cillian and no, you don’t get any inside info,” she says.

“Let me guess then,” he pushes

“Ok, take a crack at it.” “Does it have something to do with your writing,” he whispers.

“Maybe,” she whispers back. Before he could get another word in, he was being called to set

“If I see you later, I will press you more,” he says before planting a small kiss on her cheek and running off.

When it came time to the release date, she was super nervous and excited

She was dressed in her cultural attire, wanting it to show it off to everyone

When it was released, (Y/N) started to cry, all of her hard work has paid off

When she returned back to the set, she was excited to be back, last night she was told that she could come in later, so she didn’t have to make the early call time

She was a little nervous to see if anyone had found out, probably, but there was only one way to find out

When she came around the corner of the location, she was greeted by everyone, from the actors to the camera crew, operators, and directors holding her book open in front of their faces

(Y/N) let out a loud gasp, she almost started to cry

They all put down their books and started to cheer and make their way towards her.

“Bloody hell (Y/N), you are brilliant,” Joe says while hugging her.

“So this is the project that you wanted to hide from us,” Helen says while hugging you tight

“Surprise,” (Y/N) says with a smile

“Well, we are certainly surprised. We had fun trying to get our hands on these. We had to go to about 3 different Waterstones, ” Paul says

“Yeah driving between Liverpool and Leeds was fun,” Sophie says, causing the group to laugh

“Alright you lot, we can celebrate (Y/N)’s book after we are done shooting today,” David says.

(Y/N) gets a few more hugs and congrats from everyone, leaving just her and Cillian left

“So who broke the news?” she asks

“Adya comes in with a few of your books, saying that she saw that your name was trending on Twitter the other day. And then everyone quickly ran to the nearest bookstore to see if they had any copies,” he says.

“In full costume?” “Peaky caps in all,”

He brings her into a hug and kisses the top of her head (If you are shorter than 5’7)

“I’m very proud of you my dear,” she looks up and meets his gaze

“Thanks. I am proud of you too. Now come on I want to see you act,” she says while basically dragging him along.

“But you always see me act.” “Yeah, but I haven’t seen you in a week and I miss the show,” she says with a smirk

“Oh, you will get a show later.”

[sundaysundaes]

Started With A Kiss

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Actor AU, Smut, Fluff, Humor | NC-17 | 10K

Summary: Rookie actor, Lee Haechan, desperately wants to get the lead role in the highly anticipated upcoming TV drama. He’s sure he has what it takes to fill the part. Acting as a hero? No problem. Pretending to overcome his traumatic experience? Consider it done. A bed scene? Easy—wait, no. That might be a problem. But he should be fine as long as he gets to rehearse, right?

Warnings:  protected sex, oral sex, crude humor, swearing, literally 10k of sex with very little plot, a lot of playful banters between sassy!hyuck and equally sassy!Y/N

Wrote this for my love Kira @flopim​ who’s been having a tough time lately. I hope this will cheer you up bb! ❤️

“I want you to make love to me.”

Standing there, still dressed in your bright pink pajamas with your hair resembling a bird’s nest, you can only blink once, twice, and several times more because surely, your ears are playing tricks on you. There’s no way that your best friend, the cutely annoying and annoyingly cute, Lee Haechan—the one who’s been practically glued to your skin like a conjoined twin of yours for the last two years—is asking you to make love to him. 

Surely, this is not what you’d expected to see when you opened the door to your apartment, ready to bark at whoever it was who dared to disturb your beauty sleep (since it is seven in the morning on a Sunday), only to see him standing in his blue ripped jeans and black Michael Jackson shirt with his cheeks flushed, his bag hanging loosely on his shoulder, brown eyes desperately begging for your attention. 

And you’re most definitely sure that he’s not asking you to sleep with him when you still have drool on the corner of your mouth and a terrible morning breath (in your defense, you have brushed your teeth but that was, like, six hours ago).

But when seconds have passed and Haechan still looks like he badly needs to hear an answer, you have very little options but to ask, “You want me to do what to who now?”

Catching a sniff of your mighty dragon’s breath, he promptly takes a step back, scrunching his nose while frantically covering half of his face with the script he’s been holding. “Eew, God, what is that smell?” Ignoring your glare, he repeats his words, voice muffled by the papers. “I said, I want you to make love to me.”

“What—”

“Damn it, woman, just brush your teeth and let me in!”

When he’s stomping his feet while whining that loudly—loud enough for your fucking landlord to hear, along with everybody else in the building (including your cute neighbor, Jaehyun, oh dear God, no), he doesn’t give you any other choice but to invite him in, does he?

You step away from the door, flatly muttering, “Please, come in, why don’t you.” Haechan doesn’t waste any second waiting, making sure to run and stay as far away as possible from you so he won’t inhale the poisonous air that’s tainted with your breath again. 

You roll your eyes. Dramatic little shit. But just to be on the safe side, you make your way to the bathroom.

***

The scalding hot shower you just took was comforting but not enough to wash your entire drowsiness away. You’re in dire need of your caffeine intake. “Would you like some coffee, my king?” You ask between a yawn, hands finding their way to the coffee jar on your kitchen counter.

Haechan throws his bag to the floor, body sinking into the comfort of your couch. “With milk, please.”

"I’m kidding.”

“Well, I’m not.” He throws one of those cheeky grins that you adore—no, wait, you hate—as he settles his legs on your coffee table. “Less sugar but more milk. I’m still growing.”

“Growing what, your balls?” You pour him a cup of coffee as requested, yes, because to balance his demonic behavior, you have to act like the perfect angel that you are. “Since you don’t have any?”

“You mean, like your boyfriend?” Haechan retorts before he gasps dramatically, his palm going to his mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry, you don’t have a boyfriend.”

You hover above him from behind the couch, bringing two mugs filled with sizzling hot coffee. “Want to repeat that?” You tip your mug just a little bit until it nearly spills on his forehead.

Haechan winces, attempting to grin. “I’m sorry, I love you, please don’t ruin my face. It’s the only thing that’s good about me.”

“It surely is.”

“Yah, what does that mean?”

“Take it as a compliment.” 

Sitting next to him, you sip your coffee and curse silently when the liquid burns your tongue. “Okay, so what about this ‘make love to me’ thing you said earlier? Please tell me it’s just a figure of speech or something.”

“I wish.” He drags his legs away from the table so he can lay his cup down because apparently, he means business. “Okay, I know you’re gonna kill me after you hear—”

“After? I’m about to kill you now, actually.” You scoff. “Don’t you remember what we’ve agreed on? You cannot bother me when I’m still too sleepy to smack you in the head, Haechannie.”

“When did we ever—” He stops. “Why are you going to smack me in the head?” 

“‘Cause you’ll say something stupid.”

“Who says I’m gonna say something stupid?”

“You always say something stupid. You’re saying something stupid now!”

“It’s not stupid.” He sighs exasperatedly but when your flat, degrading stare comes into view, it morphs into a groan. “Well, not that stupid. I’ve thought about this—really thought about it—and I can’t find anyone else to do this but you since you’re the only girl I’m friends with. I mean, I can pick random girls, I suppose—you know how popular I am. They just can’t stop talking about me. My hair, my eyes—”

“—your tiny dick.”

“But I don’t want to break any girl’s heart by doing something that’s gonna make them feel like I’m just using them to get a job, you know? I know I’m hot but these good looks aren’t meant to trample people’s hearts.”

“And you don’t care how I’m gonna feel?”

He has the decency to act like he’s thinking about it, but then, “No, not really.”

“Thanks.”

“Look, I really need your help.” He takes it as further as holding your hand between his, puckering his pouty lips, and blinking his eyes in a way that’s cute enough to leave you in daze so you pretend like you’re about to vomit your insides to cover it up. 

Okay, so there’s one thing—one little thing that nobody knows—that you’re too ashamed to admit and that is the fact that you have a massive crush on this boy who sits in front of you with his socks unmatched. Well, no, not massive. It used to be massive during the first few weeks you knew him. How could you not? Haechan was so cute, you wanted to turn him into a doll so you could carry him around in your backpack and squish his cheeks whenever you feel like it. Sure, he’s not all jawlines and dimples like that neighbor of yours (Jung Jaehyun was probably sculpted by God himself ), but Haechan has his own charms. His devilish smirk, his loud, contagious laughter, his naughty eyebrow raise, and his lips—God, his beautiful plump lips, the way they look so pouty and soft. Honestly, you can write a whole essay about his attractive features (not that you haven’t already).

You knew you were crazy for him when the antics he did annoyed the hell out of his friends but to you, he was just plain adorable. And you realized you were pretty much fucked-up when Jeno said, “Fucking Lee Donghyuck said he forgot his wallet and robbed me this morning. Who the fuck orders a freakin’ wagyu steak for breakfast?!” and the only thing you could think of was how nice it was to go on a date with him and how your first kiss with him was going to be like (poor Jeno, though). 

It’s not that you love him or anything. It’s mostly physical, nothing more—at least for now anyway. It’s not your fault that he’s so fucking pretty that he ends up showing every now and then in your fantasy, doing indescribable naughty things that will definitely make Mark splash some holy water on your face if he knew what was going on in your head.

Fortunately, now that you’ve been friends with him for two years, that massive crush you had has turned into something normal, something you can easily hide. And can be forgotten even, whenever another cute guy—like Na Jaemin, for example—takes you out on a date or two. It’s easier to breathe these days.

“Hello? Are you there?” Haechan snaps his fingers, waking you up from your reverie. “What’s your answer? Do you want to make love to me or not?”

‘It’s easier to breathe these days?’ More like fucking kill me. 

“Can you stop saying that?” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “You’re giving me headaches.” Or a heart attack, more accurately. “Assume I said yes. Don’t you think it’s gonna get a little weird between us?”

“What is so weird about it?” He throws his hands in the air, exhausted and impatient. “It’s just gonna be two friends, pretending to be in love with each other, hugging, kissing, touching, and having sweet, tender sex.” Realization falls upon him and you resist the urge to exhale loudly. “Yeah, okay, so it is a little weird, but it should be fine, right? It’s just acting. It’s not like you have any feelings for me, do you?”

If by feelings you mean picturing you naked in my head with your mouth sucking on my neck, then yeah, I do have feelings for you. Plenty of that. But on the outside, you say, “Eew, God, no.”

Haechan squints his eyes at your response. “Can’t say I’m not hurt with the way you said it, but eew, God, no to you too. Well, if that’s the case then I’m sure we’ll be fine,” he says, sipping his coffee, and retracts his mouth as soon as the flavor hits his tongue. “What the hell is this?! Did you spit on my coffee or something?”

You didn’t but for your amusement, you throw him a sly grin. “A little.” It’s satisfying to see him looking like he’s about to pass out. “I’m still worried how it’s gonna affect our friendship later on though.”

He simply shrugs. “Meh. We’re not really that close to begin with anyway.” He takes another sip of his coffee by accident and nearly vomits for real. “Fucking hell—take this shit out of my face.”

“I'm still not sure about this, Haechannie.”

“Look, I don’t know why it’s such a big deal to you, we’re just going to pretend! Acting!” He exclaims as if that was the most normal thing a friend could ask another friend. “And you’re gonna be acting out a love scene with someone as hot as me. Consider yourself lucky.”

“Consider yourself dead.”

“Damn it, my audition is in two days and I really want to get this role!” He’s whining, tugging at your hand like a baby as he practically throws himself at your feet, graveling for your mercy. “You’re the only one who can help me with this. How can I act properly if I don’t have enough experience to perform a freaking bed scene?!”

“I don’t think actors who have to play dead have enough experience of, you know, being dead.”

“Excellent point.” Haechan stares at you blankly, unimpressed. “Do you hear yourself when you talk?”

“Do you?”

A few seconds passed by in silence with the two of you exchanging sinister glares until he finally surrenders with a prominent pout on his face. “Fine, if you don’t want to.” Haechan exhales dramatically, his shoulders sagging and when you don’t respond, he sighs again only louder this time. “I guess, I have to force Mark to make out with me. Again.” He sneaks a glance to see your reaction. “And have my face slapped with a Bible. Again.”

You wince at the thought. “How did you force him, exactly?”

“Just…” He timidly scratches his nose. “Kinda attacked him in his sleep.”

You nod in understanding even when it’s the most idiotic thing you’ve ever heard. “Well, maybe he would’ve been fine with it if you had taken him out for a nice dinner before that.”

Haechan smiles a little at your words, and even a little glimpse of it is contagious enough to make your own spread wider on your face. Small chuckles resonate through the air and he playfully bumps his shoulder against yours, his palm resting on your knuckles.

“On a more serious note,” Haechan says, “I know that asking you to rehearse a bed scene with me is too much and way out of line. But I swear, I’m not gonna touch you if you’re so uncomfortable with it. Won’t even hold your hand, I promise.” Then he notices he’s still holding your hand from earlier. He drops it immediately, clearing his throat. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” It’s more than fine. His hand seems to fit yours in a way that nobody ever does but there’s no way you’re gonna tell him that. “So, we’re just gonna be practicing lines?”

“Exactly.” He rubs his nape, suddenly a bit bashful. “Well, I was hoping to at least kiss you—just to, you know, know how it’d feel like.”

“You’ve never kissed before?”

“I have, obviously.” He rolls his eyes, disgusted at your question. “I’m not a fucking virgin if that’s what you’re assuming.”

“Chill, don’t get your panties in a twist. Nah, I know you’re not a virgin from how many times you’ve had sex with yourself.”

“Hey!” 

“But then, why do you need to practice? Can’t you just go straight to your castmates, and kiss the bejeezus out of them?”

Donghyuck runs a hand through his face. “It’s… I’ve never done it for a role,” he professes, faint blush blooming on his cheeks, “And the scene is supposed to be intimate and I’ve never… You know…”

You gesture at him to clarify more with your hands. “You’ve never…?”

“You know…” The color on his face turns brighter. “T-the thing.”

“What thing? Never made-out in public? Never had sex outdoor?” You act clueless just because you’re liking his reaction. “Never had a finger stuck in your ass? What? Please do enlighten me.”

“I’ve never been in love, you witch!” Haechan is adorable when he’s fuming. Nostrils blaring, eyebrows knitting together in an angry frown, scarlet cheeks all puffed out. He looks like a terribly pissed Pomeranian.

Man, if I could just take a picture. “Oh, okay. So have you had your finger stuck in your ass?”

“I swear to God—”

“Kidding. I know you have.” But even when Haechan is nearly ripping your cheeks apart from your face, your giggles are never-ending. “So, you’re nervous?” You snort, raising an eyebrow. “You, the obnoxious, desperate-for-attention Lee Haechan, are nervous?”

“Will you help me out or not?!”

You pretend like you’re contemplating about it when truth is, every part of your body and mind is just screaming what the heck are you waiting for? He’s asking you to rehearse a bed scene—a. bed. scene! And he said he wanted to kiss you, for God’s sake! So, really, what else is there to say but “Okay.”

Haechan widens his eyes. “Okay?”

“Okay.” You try your best to appear nonchalant. “But you’ll owe me a favor. A huge one.”

“Anything,” he instantly agrees, “As long as I’m not dead, you have my words.”

You’re not yet sure what you’re planning to ask him but seeing his enthusiasm, you know it’s going to be good. “Great. So, umm, do you want to do it now or…?”

“Whenever you’re ready.”

“Here?”

“Wherever you want.”

“Man, you’re giving me too much power. I should’ve agreed to this way sooner.” You can practically feel your face splitting in half from how wide you’re grinning. “My room, then? I mean, a bed scene requires… a bed, right?”

Haechan laughs and even after two years, it still sounds like your most favorite thing in the world. “No, it doesn’t necessarily require a bed but sure.” He jumps out from the couch, taking you by the hand, and only by that, you can already feel your heart thumping a tad faster. But the second he walks into your room, he makes a face. “Why does it smell like something died in here?”

“Because something did die. Your dignity.”

The tickling fight doesn’t occur very often between you and Lee Haechan but once it starts, it means war.

***

“Okay, so…” Haechan hands you the script, already opened to show you a page filled with dialogues and short narratives. He scoots closer on the bed, his knee a few inches away from grazing yours as they dangle from the edge. “Just from the top of the page, here.” He points with his finger and you do a quick scan, trying to get a picture of the intimate scene you’re going to do. “So, a quick summary. Your character, Aeri, has been in love with my character, Donghyun. In the earlier scene, you’ve confessed your love to me but I rejected you because we’ve been friends for so long and I didn’t want to ruin what we have. But then, later on, some things happened and I ended up catching feelings for you and this is the part where I’m gonna be telling you how I really feel and then we start kissing and—”

“Then we have sex,” you utter in dismay, but butterflies are erupting from your stomach due to the anticipation.

“No,” Haechan corrects you, “We make love.”

“Is there any difference?”

“There are more feelings involved, not just out of sheer passion. It’s slower. Tender. Intimate.” And when he notices you raising a questioning brow at him, he sighs. “That thing you did with Jaemin? Fucking like bunnies? The opposite of that.”

You mock him by imitating his sigh exaggeratedly and receiving a flick on the nose in return. “Is it just me or is the script pretty lousy?”

He nods. “But they’ll pay you good money for this.”

“I thought the reason you became an actor was to create art not money.”

“When I’m rich, maybe. Right now, I gotta pay for my rent. And apparently, Jeno keeps chasing my ass, forcing me to pay him back. It was just a wagyu steak for fuck’s sake.” He grumbles to himself, momentarily distracted. “Anyway,” he cracks his neck, “I’ve memorized my lines. Wanna give it a go?”

“Okay, let’s try. I guess I’ll be fine if it’s just kissing. Even if it’s with you.” When in reality you’re only agreeing to this because it’s with him.

Haechan’s eyes gleam brighter, ears practically perking up like an excited puppy. “Really?”

“You’re that excited at the thought of kissing me?” You play smug but you could practically hear your heartbeat blasting through your ears. “What else have you been thinking about me?”

“I’m not excited at the thought of kissing you, dumbass,” he spits back, the spark in his eyes vanishes in an instant. “I’m excited that finally I can practice kissing scenes with someone who’s actually willing to do it, and not, you know, like with the back of my hand or something.”

“You…” Failing to hold back a grin, you burst out laughing. “You made out with your hand?”

It’s funny that even when his skin is golden as if it was kissed by the sun, it still shows vividly on his face whenever he blushes. “I didn’t mean it literally—”

“I can’t believe you made out with your hand.”

“Would you just—” He nearly suffocates you with your pillow but you quickly retaliate by kicking him in the stomach.

Tears are prickling at the corner of your eyes. “Man, that mental image of yours making out with your hand will live in my mind rent-free for as long as I live.” When you still can’t stop laughing, Haechan is practically baring his teeth. “Okay, I’m sorry. Let’s get this going. If it gets too uncomfortable for me, I’ll stop.”

“Of course.” 

“At any time I want.”

“Your call.” He nods in agreement with the most serious expression you’ve ever seen him do; it almost doesn’t seem like him. 

“Good,” you say. “Now, I’ve never acted once in my life so if you laugh at me, I will sneak into your room at night and pour hot coffee on your computer.”

There’s fear fleeting through his eyes but he gives another nod. “Deal.”

“All right…” You take a deep breath, willing your heart to stop hammering against your ribcages, and for once, focus more on the script instead of the shape of his pretty, pretty mouth. “What are you doing here?” You follow the script, voice a little bit shaky as you’re still embarrassed with everything you’re doing. Haechan closes his eyes and you’re about to throw a joke to tease him about actor Haechan coming alive but when he opens them and gazes at you, you sit still, frozen.

“I wanted to see you,” he says, voice so delicate, it startles you. He’s so serious about this that you don’t find the strength within you to tease him like how you usually do. Somehow, the little gestures he makes, the changes in his expression alter the air along with the tension in the room. Suddenly, it feels like you’re standing next to him under the spotlight, hundreds of pairs of eyes following your every movement. 

“It’s—” You swallow your breath, tongue lays heavy in your mouth. “It's pouring outside, why are you—”

“I love you,” he vocalizes, his eyes gentle and heartbroken. His voice suddenly sounds a pitch lower, reverberating through the air until it sends goosebumps to the tiny hairs on your nape. He waits for your reply and you have to blink twice to slap yourself back to reality.

“W-what?”

“I’m sorry it took me this long to realize, but I do. I’m in love with you, hopelessly so.” He reaches out to cup your cheek, his thumb caressing your cheekbone. Though he has pretty hands, his fingertips are not as soft as you had imagined them to be, but they feel better, feel real. His warmth is unfamiliar to your skin but it feels more pleasant than anything that ever touches you. “Maybe you’re unaware of this, but it kills me to know that I’ve hurt you because I simply couldn’t be brave enough to accept my feelings. The reason why I didn’t want us to be together was because I didn’t want to ruin what we have, not knowing that we could be something more.”

Haechan’s lines fit your situation so much that you wish he wasn’t acting. It’s amazing how he’s changing into an entirely different persona and yet, it feels so natural as if he has been that person all along. Your breathing gets heavier as you take a brief look at the script, searching for your lines. “This feels unreal…”

“Do you still love me?” Haechan lifts your face by the chin, his touch is paper-thin. 

You wet your lips, head swirling. “But Donghyun—”

“Do you still love me?” He repeats, emphasizing with his tone. His eyes are peering into yours and you wonder maybe the quote eyes deeper than the sea refers to his gaze. “Or is it too late for me?” His thumb drifts to your lip, caressing your bottom one, your lip balm sticking to his skin. 

“I do,” you reply. He’s so pretty. You’ve never taken a glance longer than a few seconds at his close-up face, but now that you’re in this close proximity, you can finally witness the two tiny moles on his cheek, the beautiful shape of his dark eyes, the delicate curve of his lips… “I do love you, Donghyuck.”

A few seconds of silence hangs in the air when Haechan stops, his eyebrows furrowing. “Umm—it’s Donghyun, actually.”

Fuck! “Right!” You nearly leap out of your bed, face aflame. “Donghyun! Of course! I don’t know why I said that. Donghyuck is your name, I know that—” Fuck, fuck, fuck, just fucking kill me. “Sorry, umm—nervous.”

Fortunately for you, Haechan buys your bluff. “Rookie mistake,” he chuckles and you exaggeratedly roll your eyes to play along. “Okay, let’s start over. Do you still love me?”

“I do,” you respond too rigidly, making him glance away so he won’t break into laughter. “I do love you, Donghyun. Dong-Hyun.”

“Good,” he improvises, as it’s not written in the script. He has a tiny smile on his face and you like to think that it’s just him doing a terrible job at hiding his amusement. But when he swats your bangs out of your eyes, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, he seems like he’s seeing the most beautiful thing he has ever seen in his whole life. The adoration in his eyes, his loving gaze—they are so vivid, they nearly consume you. “Because I don’t think I can resist this any longer…”

You’re lost in his eyes, lost in his touch, lost in his warmth. It’s until Haechan nudges his head slightly, indicating you to wake up, you’ve got a line to say, that you jolt, eyes hurriedly going down to the script, seeking your lines. “Umm—“ You flinch. You sound so jittery, it’s terrible. “R-resist what…?”

But Haechan doesn’t pay a mind that you just stuttered from saying two words. He doesn’t ask you to start over. Instead, he presses his forehead against yours, his breath mingling in the air and you can taste the scent of sandalwood and summer. Combined with his soft breathing, you’re almost stuck in a haze, just reeling in the feeling of how this man is now closer to you than he has ever been in the past two years and it’s better than anything you’ve ever imagined.

“Resist this,” he whispers and before you can look down to check whether you have more lines to say, Haechan dips his head, his lips brushing against yours, ever so faintly at first but when you gasp, he presses harder, framing your cheeks with both hands before he moves one down to your waist. Unlike his fingertips, his lips are soft—softer than silk or the cotton candy he once bought you. But it’s not the way they feel or the way he tastes that distract you the most. It’s the way he moves them, parting his lips slightly so he can blend with yours, your lower lip fits perfectly between his plump ones. It’s the way he sighs, so contentedly, as if kissing you was everything he ever wanted.

You close your eyes, hands reaching up to his collar, wanting to feel him more, wanting to touch him—

Haechan breaks away, placing both hands on your shoulders. “How was it?”

You’ve never had someone splash cold water on your face but you figure it might feel something like this. Your voice grows hoarse when you speak. “How was what?”

“The kiss!” Haechan’s eyes are filled with concern, analyzing your expression. “Was it romantic enough? Tender enough? Did it properly convey the desperation and longing my character feels for yours?”

You knew this was a bad idea. You fucking knew it. So, why are you still hurt when he acts like he feels exactly nothing by that kiss? This is just an acting lesson for him. You should have been prepared. 

“It’s good,” you answer, averting your gaze and hiding your eyes behind your bangs. Your heart is still running a thousand miles an hour but somehow, it doesn’t feel as pleasant as before. “So, next scene—”

“Wait, are you okay?” Haechan asks, bending slightly to catch a glimpse of your face. “Was it too much? Do you want to stop?”

Truth is, you’re conflicted. You’re going to catch feelings—you most likely already are. But Haechan only treats you as a friend and nothing more, and this is the only chance you have to be this close to him. The temptation of continuing the kiss, to just hold him close for one more time, stands stronger than anything else so you say, “No. I promised you I’d help.”

He’s still unsure, eyes glinting in concern. “It’s okay if you want to stop, I—”

“Let’s just do the damn scene, Donghyuck.”

Haechan freezes on his seat, eyes searching yours as you now have the bravery to look at his face. Knowing you came on too strong, you try to ease it off with a smile. “I’m fine, don’t worry. It’s just my first time doing this—acting, I mean. Can we try again?”

He spends another few seconds trying to decipher the true meaning behind your smile but eventually nods his head at your command. He drags his finger back to the script. “Then, umm… Let’s start from here?”

You don’t even look at the page when you give affirmation. “Go.”

Haechan takes a moment to prepare himself and when your eyes meet each other again, he’s a different person once more. “The reason why I didn’t want us to be together was because I didn’t want to ruin what we have, not knowing that we could be something more.” His voice is so soothing, you almost forget that deep down you’re immensely upset knowing that the kiss didn’t have the same effects on him.

This time, when he frames your face with his palm, you lean into his touch, eyes never leaving his. “This feels unreal,” you say and for a second—just for a split second—you notice Haechan breaking out of character, surprised by the gentle expression on your face. Because you’re not acting out his script, you’re acting out on your feelings. It’s your only chance to be honest with him without forcing him to respond. So you pour all these feelings you have for him out in the open—ones that started from a mere physical attraction to something more as his presence grew bigger in your life, you’re acting out each and every one of them. 

“Do…” He inhales sharply, trying to focus. “Do you still love me?” He’s doing the same thing as before, placing his thumb and index finger on your chin but before he can say his lines, you see how his eyes fall on your lips.

And you kiss him. You kiss him with everything you have, hands going to his face, fingers slipping between his strands, and Haechan gasps against your mouth, his fingers curling around your wrist. You know he’s about to push you away so you quickly murmur, “I do,” against his lips, breath stuttering, “I do love you.”

When you take his bottom lip between yours, teeth grazing against his supple skin, Haechan lets out an involuntary moan at the back of his throat. The butterflies in your stomach come alive, pumping a rush of adrenaline through your veins and suddenly, you’re brave enough to glide your tongue across his lip. His hold tightens around your wrist but instead of pushing you away, he tugs you closer and you fall into his chest, hands breaking free from his grip to wind around his neck. Your fingertips are scraping against his nape before they move upward to yank at the roots of his hair. “Fuck,” he breathes out, almost inaudibly, as if he didn’t mean to let the word slip from his mouth and it makes your heart jumps straight out of your chest. The second he responds properly, Haechan kisses like fire, all passion and urgency, and you really don’t mind being consumed by his flames.

His hands are on your waist, pulling you closer and closer until you’re almost sitting on his lap before he jolts awake, pushing you away so abruptly, you almost fall from the bed.

“I’m—We—” he stammers, looking everywhere but your eyes. His cheeks are flushed, his lips bruised and red from your kisses. “I think we should—I gotta go—“

He stands up from the bed like the sheets are catching on fire, picking his script from the floor and gathering all his belongings at once before he runs toward the door. He turns on his heels, wanting to say something to fix the goddamn situation, but when his eyes land on yours, his words vanish without a trace. 

“I—I’ll call you later,” he finally says and doesn’t wait for your response. The front door closes with a thud.

And then silence comes to answer.

What just happened? 

Your heart is thundering inside your chest, you’re starting to feel nauseous. What have I done? You keep asking over and over. You thought everything was going to be fine. He responded to your kiss earlier, didn’t he? You were sure you didn’t imagine the whole thing. But now he’s gone and you’re not sure whether he’s gonna come back as the same Haechan—the old, bratty but caring Lee Haechan. The one who snickers loudly when you fall face-first on the ground but always steals secret glances at you to make sure you're not hurt. The one who makes jokes about your love life but never forgets to show up at your apartment with a thoughtful gift right at the minute you turn a year older. 

Things are not just gonna get awkward, they’re ruined.

When nearly half an hour has passed by and you’re still left alone in your apartment with no signs of him coming back, you’re about to go insane. You can’t stay still, walking back and forth your living room with the tip of your thumb between your teeth.

Should I chase after him and explain that it was just me trying to improvise? You hesitate with your hand lingering on the doorknob. But with your knees nearly giving up under your weight, you decide to stay put. It will probably just gonna make it worse. He’ll see through my lies, he always does.

You’re straying away to the kitchen, hands placed on the counter. You can feel your head spinning, stomach somersaulting. Damn it, why did I have to do that?! Why couldn’t I just— 

The front door slams opened and Haechan barges in with his hair messy, ruffled by the wind, and his bangs sticking to his temple. Stunned, you stand still on your ground. Your heart is the only one that’s moving beyond control. His eyes scan your apartment until they land on yours and for an instant, everything seems to fade away.

“Fuck it,” he says, dropping his bag to the ground and making his way towards you in such a hurry, he nearly trips over his feet. “You’re not that good of an actor to be faking it.” Before you have the chance to even take a breath, Haechan’s lips are smashing against yours. 

“Hae—” Haechan’s kiss is insane. So forceful that you can barely keep up, taking every bit of air directly from your lungs. He has you backed against the kitchen counter, the marbled edge digging into your skin. His hands frame your face, sliding against your cheek until they cup the backsides of your neck, his thumbs resting against your ears. You curl your fingers around his wrist, gasping, “Wait—”

He pulls away, lifting your face so you can’t bring your gaze anywhere else. “You like me?” His eyes are just as intense, begging for answers. “Please tell me I’m not imagining this.”

But behind that passion, his confidence is wavering. You can tell by his quivering breath, the little tremble running through his fingertips, and at that, you’re drowning in relief. You don’t think he’s that good of an actor to be faking this too. 

“I do,” you admit, heart pounding so loudly that you can barely hear your own voice. “I like—”

His mouth is on yours again and it feels like he’s kissing you in a hundred different places at once. “Jesus Christ, why have you kept quiet about this for so long?” he says, tasting your breath and skin at the same time. “Two fucking years. We wasted two fucking years.”

The words this isn’t happening endlessly run through your head but all your senses scream that Haechan is really here, in your arms, his nails clawing against your shirt and there’s nothing left you want from this world.

When you reciprocate to him properly, your palms sliding up his chest, over his shoulder, until your arms circle his neck, Haechan sighs in content. His kisses grow slower—more relaxed—but deeper, his tongue peeking out shyly at first but not for long. He still tastes faintly like the coffee you made and something else entirely different. Something pleasant that’s just exactly how you’ve fantasized him to be, if not more.

He pulls away to catch his breath with his eyes still focusing on your lips, thumb rubbing your lower one. “Does this feel weird to you?” He whispers, his temple pressing against yours.

You’re intoxicated by his sweet scent though you’re not sure whether it’s the smell of his shampoo, his cologne, or just him altogether. “No,” and as soon as the word comes out, his lips are chasing after yours once more.

“Good, ‘cause I don’t think I can stop.” He’s breathing heavily against your mouth as you are against his. With his fingers twisted in your hair, making a messy ponytail out of it, Haechan peppers open-mouthed kisses on your neck, tongue pressing against your pulsating vein and a whimper escapes your mouth.

Your dreams, your fantasies—they all fall pale in comparison to reality. When you vocalize his name, it almost sounds like a plead and Haechan slants his mouth back on yours again, giving you another taste as he is not satisfied with yours just yet. “Your lips taste amazing,” he breathes out and it’s so quiet, it seems like he’s intending to say the words in his head and not with his mouth. But as his words fall on your ears, they send tingles down your spine.

“So do yours,” you reply, attempting to make him blush in return but if he does, he doesn’t show much. “Never pegged you as a man who wears lip balm.”

You can feel his smirk directly with your skin. “I’m not wearing any.”

“You’re not?” You lightly giggle, swiping your tongue across his lower lip. “Then your lips do taste amazing.”

Haechan’s hand is slipping underneath your shirt, fingers hovering above your bra. “Guess there are still a lot of things you don’t know about me, huh?”

“I’ve got a hunch you’re about to teach me?”

“Only if you’re eager to learn.”

The kiss becomes heavier that you’re lost for words, entirely consumed by his passion, until he breaks away, muttering, “Off, off, off, off, off,” as he struggles to tear the fabric away from your body. You titter at his desperation, raising both hands to help him out of his misery. The second it’s off, he lifts you by the waist and places you down on the counter. 

“I’m amazed you could lift me,” you coo, admiring the sight of his lean stomach as he pulls his shirt over his head. His silver necklace hangs loosely around his neck and you hook a finger around it to yank him back to you.

He doesn’t seem to be able to detach his lips from yours for too long, especially when you keep sneaking glances at his. So when he speaks again, his every word is painted directly to your skin. “It wasn’t easy.” He settles between your thighs, mouth latching against your collarbone. “You weigh a ton.”

“Yeah?” You bite your lip, holding back a moan as he sucks bruises on your neck, the edge of his fingers trailing over the seam of your bra. “Then you must be so strong.”

“I am, haven’t you noticed?” Haechan pulls away just to showcase a mischievous grin. “I work out, you know.”

You blurt out laughing. It’s not solely because of the mental image of Lee Haechan—a full-time gamer, Lee Haechan—doing push-ups seems so funny to you. It’s more about the way he wiggles his eyebrow, trying to be sexy about it when you know he’s the weakest one in your group. Flustered at your reaction, he flicks your nose. “What is so funny?”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize though it doesn’t seem that much sincere with the way you’re still giggling at him. “It’s just that an hour ago we were two friends making fun of each other and now we’re here, in this position. I don’t know, it just feels surreal to me.”

An adorable pout blooms on his face. “I thought you said this didn’t feel weird.”

“No, it’s perfect. I want this.” You wrap the end of his necklace twice around your index finger. “I want you. It’s just… I’ve been imagining this to happen for such a long time and now that it’s happening, I’m feeling a lot of things at once.” You place a reassuring kiss on his temple. “I’m nervous.” This time landing one on his cheek. “I’m relieved.” When your lips hover above his, you notice him parting his own slightly in anticipation. “And it feels so good, I don’t ever want to stop. Even if that means we can’t go back to being friends.”

Haechan can’t form a response as you don’t let him, your mouth swallowing the tiny moans he emits. “We’ll talk about that later,” he hastily replies, “I still haven’t had enough of you yet.”

Without warning, he lifts you off the counter, making you yelp and wrap your legs around his waist for support. “Haechannie!” With you holding onto him, he takes a step forward, ignoring your call. “Where are you taking me—"

“Wait, no, back pain, back pain.” Both of you nearly tumble down to the ground from how he’s harshly placing you back to your feet, wincing at the ache erupting from the strained muscles in his spine. He’s groaning in pain, massaging his back with both hands. “Fuck, you’re really heavy!”

“That’s no way to talk to a lady.” You throw your slipper at him, missing his head just a few inches, laughing all the way. “What exactly were you trying to do?”

“I was trying to move us to the couch.”

“All you had to do was ask.”

“I was trying to be sexy.” He juts out his lower lip, and it takes all control of your body to not squeeze his cheeks from how adorable he looks.

“Honey, you are sexy, believe me, but you’re also weak as fuck. Consider hitting the gym for real next time and then carry me.”

“Shut up,” he sighs, holding out a hand for you to take. “To the couch, please? And maybe a massage after this ‘cause my back is killing me.”

Shaking your head in amusement, you take his hand, intertwining your fingers with his and drag him over to the couch. He’s in the middle of asking, “Do you want me to be on top or—” when you push him down and straddle his lap without warning, legs tangling around his hips. “Oh, okay.”

You run a hand through his hair, pushing them back so you can witness the glow in his eyes. “You look sexier with your hair pushed back.” You love the way he stares at you, eyes half-lidded painted with lust and desire. And combined with your commentary, he now has his cheek tinted with red. “Do you have a problem with me being on top?”

His eyes quickly run down to the place where your denim shorts are riding up your thighs, your zipper pressing against his groin. With a noticeable gulp, he stutters out, “N-no.”

You smile, patting his cheek. “Good.”

The kiss starts slow as you focus more on moving your hands down his body. Haechan shivers a little when your palm is pressing against his bare chest, sliding down to his navel. When you pull back, raising a questioning brow at his reaction, he bashfully says, “Your hand’s cold,” looking like a nervous little boy who’s a stark contrast to how he usually behaves.

He’s so cute.

“Well, I know a way to warm you up.” You smirk, almost cringing when you hear your own words but Haechan seems to like it.

“Oooh,” he coos, grinning against your lips. “Are you offering what I think you’re offering?”

“I don’t know.” You kiss your way down from his jawline to his chest, pushing yourself off his lap so you can kneel on the floor, your fingers unbuckling his belt. “What do you think I’m offering?”

Haechan’s eyes are glowing with anticipation. He curves his fingers around the edge of his seat, wetting his lip nervously when you pull his zipper down. You release him from his boxer, stroking him to life and he sinks his nails further into the couch. A train of expletives breaks free from his mouth but he’s so quiet, you can only hear his ragged breathing.

But by the time you run your thumb over his slit, your hot breath hitting his sensitive skin, Haechan melts into a whimpering mess. “Please don’t tease,” he begs.

“I haven’t even started, Haechannie.” And he looks like he’s about to say something but it only turns into a mewl when you press a kiss to his tip. “You’re so cute,” you comment, and he shivers when the vibration of your voice meets his skin. 

Haechan tries to act composed. “Of course I’m cute, it’s—” 

You cut his line short by darting out your tongue, giving kitten licks at the side, smiling satisfyingly when his eyes meet yours. As you give him a little suck around his tip, he throws his head back, his lower lip between his teeth. “I—I said don’t tease.”

“I’m not teasing you.” But you are. How can you not? He looks so fucking cute. You’ve never really enjoyed giving head before, especially when your opponent gets rough and ends up pushing too deep until you gag. But with Haechan, you feel like you can do this for hours. He’s so nervous and shy, doesn’t even dare to place his hand on your hair, and his reaction to every bit of your action is honest even when his words aren’t. 

“Here.” You take one of his hands, moving it to your head. “You can use me as much as you want.”

“Use—” he crumbles at your choice of words. When you suddenly envelop him with your mouth, moving from the tip to the base in one quick motion, Haechan instinctively grabs a handful of your hair, flinching. “Goddamn, why are you so fucking hot?”

You giggle, sliding his cock out of your mouth with an obscene pop. “Thanks.”

“No, I mean your mouth. It’s so fucking warm.”

“So, you’re saying,” you dip your tongue into his slit, eyes seductively peering into his. “I’m not hot?”

“You’re—Fuck, fuck—” Haechan seethes, hips buckling when you bob your head down again, tongue pressing against his veins. Shivers run through his fingertips when he slips them between your locks, pushing your fringe back to have a good look at your face. You catch a glimpse of him, his lips unconsciously moving to form words that you can’t hear. So pretty, he seems to say, and the thought of it makes your stomach lurch in delight. Taking him completely in your mouth, you hollow your cheeks, swallowing around him. He tightens his hold around your hair, cheeks flushed and you expect him to hold you in place so he can thrust against your mouth but what he does is pull you away. “Stop, stop, stop, stop.”

Wiping a string of saliva away with the back of your hand, you ask with a frown. “Something’s wrong?”

Haechan hides his reddening face behind his fingers, quietly answering, “I was about to come.”

You hold back a grin. With a nonchalant hum, you dip your head down again, this time engulfing him until he hits the back of your throat.

“Jesus Christ.” His sanity is deteriorating, he can feel it.

“Don’t bring Lord’s name when I have your dick in my mouth, Haechannie. Mark would kill you if he knew.”

“Fuck Mark. Come here.” He rushes forward, forcibly pulling you up with both hands clamping your arms. When you follow his order, settling back down on top of his lap, he confesses with his lips grazing against the shell of your ear. “I really won’t last long if you keep doing that.”

Despite your previous teasing and confidence, you squirm inside his arms, feeling warmth spreading from your chest to your cheek. “So I have these effects on you?”

He’s almost growling when he retorts, “You don’t even know.” Haechan pushes your bra strap until it falls off your shoulder, teeth marking your supple skin until you hiss in both pain and pleasure. He presses a softer kiss to soothe away the bruise. “Sorry, I… You’re gonna need to cover it up tomorrow.”

“It’s fine.” You stroke his cheek, tracing the tiny mole on his jawline. “Seems like you have a biting kink.”

He sheepishly chuckles, “I don’t know. But if you let me, I’d love to do that again.” 

Something about him saying it in the most sincere way possible, almost too formal even, makes you crave more for him and everything he does. “You’re allowed to do whatever you want with me, Lee Donghyuck.”

Haechan swallows hard, barely has the bravery to look at you in the face after hearing your words and his real name tumbling out of your mouth. His fingers are now on the hem of your shorts, trembling a little bit. “Umm—may I?”

Helping him further, you stand on your knees, unclasping your bra first to his surprise and pulling your denim shorts and panties down to your thighs. Haechan watches with his eyes wide open, mouth parted in awe as he commits every bit of your curve and movement into memory. It feels so thrilling to be this wanted, to be ravished by his eyes, until you begin to struggle to push your clothing away from your legs.

“Need some help?” He asks, lips pursing as he tries to hide a grin. 

You exhale loudly, detaching yourself from him. “Let me just—” You jump off his lap, standing back with your feet on the ground, and kicking the clothing away with annoyance—why in the world did you have to wear shorts this tight—and slap him in the chest when he’s chuckling at the sight. 

“Maybe you should stop trying to be sexy too,” Haechan snickers.

“Shut up.” You crawl back into his lap. “Go back to staring dumbly at me like before. I’m naked.”

“I wasn’t staring like tha—oh,” he inhales sharply as you grind your heat against his cock, amazed at how warm you are despite your cold palms. The sensation of skin meeting skin feels much more different. There’s really no going back this time. Somehow, it feels dangerous, as if you’re doing something forbidden and it makes your skin crawl with excitement.

And by the look on his face, seems like he feels the same way.

“Lost for words?” You taunt him with a smirk, hands on his chest. “That’s new.” His glare is menacing but it falters away the second you rub your arousal against his. 

His head falls to his shoulder, eyes tightly shut. “God, baby…”

There it is again. The funny feeling in your stomach. “Baby?” You simper though your heart is palpitating like crazy. “We’re moving on to giving each other pet names now?”

If he can blush any harder than this, he probably might but with the way you’re grinding shamelessly on his cock, letting him get a glimpse of how wet and warm you are, he’s all maxed-out. 

His earlobe lays between your teeth when you whisper, “Shall we put it in?”

Haechan’s nails are sinking into the skin of your hips, both to hold you in place so you’ll stop torturing him and to press you down harder on his crotch. “I…” He’s so distracted, he can’t even think. The way the side of his length is pressing against your folds is pushing every little bit of self-control he has to the back of his head.

“Haechannie?” You giggle, moving your hips. “I kinda asked you a question here.”

“Yes, fuck, yes, please.” Haechan tries his very best to not sound that desperate for your touch but he is that desperate. “Wait—aren’t we—shouldn’t I wear a condom first?”

You blink, halting your movement. “You brought a condom with you?”

He nods as he leans forward, fingers searching frantically at the pocket of his jeans that hang low on his knees. “Here.”

“Why do you have a condom with you?”

“‘Cause I bought it downstairs just now.”

Your jaw grows slack at the realization. “Is that the reason why your hair was so messy and you were sweating when you barged in here? ‘Cause you ran downstairs, trying to find a condom?”

“I’m sorry, are you really complaining about this now?”

At the feeling of his member twitching underneath you, you sigh. “You’re right. Let’s discuss that later.”

It feels a bit awkward when you stand on your knees, giving him some space and wait until he finishes wrapping the rubber around himself. The silence that hangs between you is almost deafening that by the time he’s done and you fall back to his lap, sitting on his thighs, it feels like you have to start over again.

You diffidently smile. “Hey.”

Haechan is equally as embarrassed, mirroring your gesture. “Hi.”

“I guess we’re gonna have sex.”

“Guess so.”

Another few seconds pass by where you can only meet each other’s eyes, feeling your heartbeat racing louder and louder. It feels like you’re about to burst, honestly, but fortunately for you, Haechan leans in, his fingers tentatively caressing your cheek. “Can I kiss you?” He questions.

You melt under his gaze, his gentle touch, his honey-like voice. “Yes, please.”

Your lips start the connection and the rest of your body follows, fitting every curve of his perfectly like you were made for him. The way Haechan sighs against your mouth sends sparks of electricity all the way down to your toes and you don’t waste any more time. With his mouth latching on your breast, tongue flicking against your nipple, you lower yourself on him.

Haechan’s hold your waist tighter, eyebrows adjoined in the middle at the sensation, his moans muffled. He presses his spine back against the couch, admiring the sight of his member disappearing inch by inch into you. His eyes begin to droop when he’s completely sheathed inside, his bruised lips parted. He cups your cheek, kissing you softly on the corner of your mouth, making you shiver at the sudden tenderness. “I guess we are having sex,” he murmurs with a bashful smile.

You can’t help but laugh a little. “I guess so.” 

It starts slow, with you placing both hands on his chest and him swallowing his breath at the sight of you moving up and down his length. You hiss slightly at the friction, adjusting to his size. 

“Does it hurt?” He asks, tucking a few loose strands behind your ear. 

“A little.” You reassure him with a grin. “Relax, you’re not gonna break me.”

You expect him to send back a snarky remark but what he does is press his forehead against yours. “You’re so warm,” he whispers, tasting the skin that connects your shoulder to your neck. Something about his words, his sensual kiss and his tender touch makes you squeeze your walls around him and he clutches harder around you. He glides his hands lower to your hips, silently urging you to pick up the pace and you follow.

Breathing heavily, Haechan has his thumb grazing your lower lip. “You have such a pretty mouth,” he professes as if he was in a trance.

You seductively bite his thumb, still working your hips. “You’re saying that ‘cause I just sucked your dick.”

“Yes, that too, but really.” It’s as if he’s staring at a work of art, eyes twinkling with admiration. Sometimes, when you’re hitting the right spot and quiver around him, a small moan escapes his lips and you feel him twitching inside you. “It’s—ah—It probably doesn’t sound sincere when I’m saying this now, but I’ve always thought you had a pretty mouth. And lips. I’ve thought about your lips a lot.”

“Yeah?” You mouth against the sensitive skin below his ear, sinking harder on his length. “What else do you like about me?”

“Y-your voice—” You can actually feel him shivering. “You have such a—fuck—I just—I really love your moans.” 

You’re not sure whether he’s saying that because he’s so distracted with the way you’re breathing in his ear or he genuinely loves it. Either way, it’s a pleasure to know how much you’re affecting him with your actions. With a chuckle, you say, “You’re rambling, baby.”

“And your hair,” he adds, probably losing every bit of his self-control by this point. “I love your hair. Looks so soft.” Haechan cards his fingers through your strands. “Feels so soft.”

You hum in response, hoping that your flushed face doesn’t look as apparent as you think. “Anything else?”

“Your—” He shudders when you paint a mark under his collarbone. “Your ass.”

You stop, pulling away to give him a look and he whines at the loss. “My ass?”

“What—” The tips of his ears are turning red, steam practically coming out of them. “Why are you staring at me like that—you have a great ass!”

Teasing him is such a joy to you. “Then, let’s do it this way.” You part away from him, landing back on the carpeted floor so you can turn around, giving him the chance to ogle at your behind, before you ease yourself down onto his lap once more. 

“Fuck—” Haechan’s hisses, his hands going down to your hips again. The new position doesn’t allow you to meet his eyes but with the way he’s whimpering behind you, fingers trailing over the curve of your ass, the sensation increases.

“You okay back there?” You taunt smugly, chuckling a bit because Haechan sounds like he’s losing it. His nails are sinking into your skin and you just know that’s gonna leave a nasty bruise tomorrow. “You seem like you’re enjoying this way too—“ You’re interrupted by your own moans when he suddenly has one hand massaging your breast and another one sliding down your stomach to find your clit. “W-wait, Haechannie—”

“You’re such a tease,” he breathily whispers into your ear, his chest pressing against your spine as he leans forward, pulling you into his embrace. “Isn’t that supposed to be my job?”

His fingers are rubbing you in circles, making your thighs tremble. “You’re right.” You move your hips harder, going out of rhythm with how fast you’re going and Haechan sinks his teeth to your shoulder again.

At the sound of his name departing your lips in the most sinful moan he’s ever heard, Haechan curses. “Shit, you’re not gonna let me enjoy this longer, are you?”

“There’s always a second round, Haechannie.” You smirk, raising your hips all the way up in intention to slam it back down again but Haechan catches you and pushes you forward until you land on the coffee table, stomach pressing flat against the wooden surface. “What—"

“There’s always a second round, right?” His lips are brushing against your ear as he positions himself behind you. “Then I’m going all out.”

When he slams his hips in one swift motion, hard and deep, he knocks all the air out of your lungs. “Wait—” You choke out, can barely keep up with his pace. “Oh God—”

“Now, now,” he coos, his hand finding its way to your throat, fingers pressing against your veins. He raises your face, his chest completing the dip of your spine. “Don’t bring God’s name when I’m fucking you like this, baby.”

You can’t even find the strength to retort, eyes shutting tightly until you see stars behind your eyelids. It almost feels unreal how fast he can go from being awkward and tentative about all of this to raw and wild within a few minutes but Haechan has always been fast adapting to new situations and you have been teasing him way too much. It’s about time that he snaps. 

Haechan moves you down to the floor, forcing you to stand on all fours and you’re so glad you follow his lead. “Spread your knees. Bring your head down,” he instructs and you do as you’re told, extending your arms in front of you. Haechan has his hand on the dip of your shoulder blades, holding you still until you have no choice but to press your cheek against the carpeted floor, ass in the air. “Good girl,” he praises, kneeling behind you and rubbing his tip along your folds. “Ready, baby?”

He doesn’t wait for your answer.

With only a few minutes in, you know you’re getting close, you can feel it. He has switched from giving deep, hard thrusts to quick, shallow ones and it’s driving you insane. “H-Haechannie, I—” you whimper, “I’m close—”

And he knows it too, of course he does. He can tell by the way you’re clenching around him. But instead of going harder and driving you completely over the edge, Haechan suddenly laces his fingers with yours, his lips painting soft kisses from your nape down to your spine, his hips hitting another angle that feels just as amazing even when he slows down the pace. The intimacy surprises you as you don’t expect him to be this tender. Suddenly, it doesn’t feel like you’re doing this out of sheer passion. With his palm covering the back of your hand, fingers slipping between yours, somehow, everything feels more sentimental, stronger, crossing the lines.

With a moan of your name, Haechan flips you to your back, fingers framing your face, lips meeting lips as he thrusts back in, gasping against your mouth. “I want to see your face,” he says when he pulls away, his half-lidded eyes boring into yours, thumb slipping between your lips. “Not sure if I’ve told you this before but…” He snaps his hips, and you tangle your legs around them in response, fingernails digging into his upper arms. “You’re so beautiful.”

The knot in your stomach untangles without warning and your orgasm hits you so hard, you nearly sob at the sensation. With the way you’re quivering and squeezing around him, Haechan follows right after, his face sinking into the crook of your neck, hips stuttering as he rides out his own orgasm.

***

With his jeans back on and his used condom thrown away to the nearest trash bin, Haechan joins you back on the carpeted floor as you still haven’t found the strength to get up and get dressed after that. He shamelessly lays his body down on top of yours, his cheek pressing against the valley of your breasts. “I’m spent,” he mumbles, feeling drowsy.

“Haechannie?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re heavy.”

“I know.” But he doesn’t get up, only moving his head slightly to press a tiny kiss to your bare chest before he lies his head down over your heart again. You give up with a smile, wrapping your arms around him, fingertips stroking his hair. Haechan sighs contentedly under your touch. “Man, that was…”

“That was?”

“Amazing.” He props himself up on his elbows so he can meet your eyes. “You’re amazing.”

Your heart jolts at the sincerity in his words but you cooly smile back. “I know.”

“And I’m amazing too, I’m sure?”

“Meh,” you shrug. “Could be a little better but I’ll let you practice on me for free.”

“Jesus Christ.” He shakes his head, his strands tickling your nose. “I don’t even have the strength to join your banter. You know, I’ve always wondered since you’re pretty much shit at everything, there must be something you’re good at. But I never thought that something would turn out to be sex. I can’t even believe I’m saying this but you’re really, really amazing at it. I feel like I should give you a medal or something.”

“Thanks,” you flatly mutter. “Not sure if you’re praising me, though.”

“Oh, I am praising you, believe me. And you know me, I rarely praise.” 

“Stop it,” you use your robotic voice. “You’re making me feel so special, I’m about to cry.”

Haechan playfully nips at your nose, forcing you to break off your act and laugh directly into his mouth. “Seriously,” he says, breaking off the kiss. “If I were to pay you for sex, I would give you everything I own. Even the clothes I’m wearing. Hell, I’d even sell my grandma but don’t tell her that.”

Your laughter has reduced into small giggles. “That’s comforting.”

“So…” The way Haechan is caressing your hair is so soft, almost like a mother to her sleeping child. “What should we do about this?” When you raise an eyebrow, he tensely adds, “Do you, umm… I mean, do you want to, like—”

“You’re rambling.”

“I know, God, I’m so nervous! I may look like a naughty, sexy bad boy—”

“No one is saying that—“

“But I actually suck at this—as in, I don’t really know how to date a girl.”

“You don’t even know how to talk to a girl, based on the conversations we’ve had,” you comment and you know it’s not helping but it’s worth seeing his adorable pout. “Then don’t date me. If it’s hard for you to date, then let’s just keep being friends—"

“But I want to continue this!” He says it so fast and firmly that you don’t even have time to feel hurt about your offer. 

It’s not like you crave a relationship with him—you haven’t thought about it that far—even just holding him like this is enough for now, so the fact that he’s so excited to have this going makes your heart swells with joy. “Well then, we’ll be friends who have casual sex anytime we want,” you suggest.

He blinks twice, a bit amazed at your offer, but to your surprise, he seems rather… disappointed? “What happens if we start catching feelings?” He quietly asks.

“Then I guess we’ll start dating for real.”

“Then…” He runs a hand through his hair, nervous. “What happens if I already have feelings for you?”

He states it so quietly, it’s a miracle you can even hear him. “Do you want to date me, Haechannie?”

He looks away, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. “Do you want to date me?” He murmurs against your skin, unsure and flustered.

You heave the heaviest sigh you’ve ever done in your life. “You’re unbelievable. I’ll decide for us then. Starting now, we’re dating.”

He lifts his head, and if he were a puppy, he would’ve had his tail wagging behind him, even when his face doesn’t show much. “That easy?”

“That easy. What, you have something to complain about?”

“No.” He grins, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips. “Hey, girlfriend.”

“Ugh, get off me, you’re gross.”

But no matter how hard you push your palm against his face, Haechan only giggles and turns you around so this time, you’re lying on his chest. “So,” he pushes a few strands of your hair behind your ear. “You like me, huh?”

“No, what makes you think that way?”

“Says the girl who just slept with me.”

“I slept with you ‘cause I was just curious about your dick. Jeno said you had a dick that was the size of his thumb.”

“Excuse me?!”

“Didn’t you see his InstaStory last night?” You reach up to gather your phone from the coffee table. “I took a screenshot of it actually. Man, you should’ve seen the comments. They’re hilarious.”

Snatching your phone away, Haechan runs his eyes along the words written on the screen. “That son of a bitch!”

Simpering, you sneak a peek under his boxer. “Well, he’s not wrong.” 

“Oh, it’s on,” he deadpans, throwing your phone away and pushes you back down on the floor. His eyes glinting mischievously. 

“What are you doing?” You’re still half-laughing when he brings your hands over your head, holding your wrists together with one hand as he settles between your thighs, his fingers hovering dangerously close.

“I’m gonna make you take your words back.” He wets his lip, one corner of his mouth turning upward. “Time for the second round, baby.” 

***

[nevenabadr]

50 Shades of You! Tom Hiddleston X Female! Reader

Note: This is my first ever fanfiction for Tom Hiddleston. I have not written fiction for ages. English is not my first language.

Inspiration: this is inspired by:

“I will live in thy heart, die in thy lap, and be buried in thy eyes.”

–Shakespeare, Much Ado About Nothing

Word count: 2660

Warnings: Romance, sweet words, and smut–this is +21 and not for everyone.

Enjoy reading and please comment with your feedback. 💚

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

During the summer Cambridge University was having a conference "Gothic Elements In John Milton's Paradise Lost." As you the young professor of literature, the coordinate manager suggested that the University alumnus could join for not just attending, but acting a piece of the tragedy. Amongst the candidates was the Classic department graduate and famous actor, Tom Hiddleston. 

You know that he might have scheduled issues or time conflicts, but you suggested the committee email him. To your surprise, he accepted the offer. 

 

The scene of choice was casting the devil out of hell.

On the stage during the conference eve, you did not have the perfect time to watch him, but you took a glimpse of acting from far.

He even caught your show and face attending the rehearsals.

The conference day was pressuring. You were trying to get everything right, in the middle of your so-close meltdown. A voice brought you to reality, "Hello, is this professor Y/N)?"

You turned to find the British handsome alumni smiling peacefully at you. "Yes, how can I help you?"

"Indeed, I am the one offering help." As he adjusted his glasses, I asked the committee manager to take upon some errant backstage. Maybe I can assist with the front ceremony?"

"Of course," you paused for a moment, "can you help me with the dinner's seats arrangement? My assistant is absent and I have to print and arrange them myself."

"Just show me a computer and all will be done."

Both of you took your time arranging an evening missing up some seats. 

 

"Here comes my name. You will be seated with the professors, of course!" He was busy putting name tags over the table.

"Oh! Don't remind me." You replied as if it is a conversation with an old friend and continued "the Classic department and Literature."

"They might start a war." Both of you started laughing 

"I have an idea." He took a tag from his table and moved yours next to his. "Now you will be with a friend"

The presentations finished, you had to go for the gym showers to change and wear your conference and dinner dress.

By the time you arrived, the scene from the tardy was about to be played. You took your place in the front seat.

Tom was playing Satan. He noticed that you were reciting the lines with him. He even almost smiles at you. Could not hold himself from looking at you in the front row while playing the scene of...

 

"All is not lost; the unconquerable Will, And study of revenge, immortal hate, And courage never to submit or yield; (And what is else not to be overcome?) That glory never shall his wrath or might Extort from me to bow and sue for grace With suppliant knee and deify his power, Who from the terror of his arm so late Doubted his empire[.] (I, 106–114)"

 

Your facial expressions captured his eyes, the movement of your lips and then the flame of your applause. 

At the dinner, he was interested to hear all about your work and writings. His eyes could not able to leave you.

 

By the end of the dinner, he walked you to your car, "this was lovely, thank you for tonight" 

You smiled at him, "thank you for accepting our invitation."

You shake hands and opened your car door like the gentleman he is.

"Would you like to go out with me, for a coffee? Books and coffee, maybe." He did not hesitate to ask.

"I would love to. You already have my number within the conference contact information." You raised an eyebrow and smirked.

As your car drove away, he knew he was up for an adventure.

Three months later, you are happily dating and sharing sweet kisses. He suggested a film marathon. Each week one of you chose a topic.

That Saturday's topic was Russian Literature and you had to add: "or inspired by it" 

"Excuse me, but Tolstoy has no comparison!" He grimaced

"Shadow and Bones, love!" You teased him, "it the Netflix adaption of the era" 

"After Anna Karenina, please," he sounded like an old professor.

"Alright then, deal." You tickled him and kissed his lips softly

Both of you enjoyed Anna Karenina, however, you were crying in his arms.

"That dreadful ending." 

He hugged you "Hey, Shadow and Bones will make it up to you, let me make extra popcorn." Once again, he kissed you.

He came back with popcorn that will at least survive three episodes. You snuggled between his arms.

"Look at Alexie, how he said 'Make me your villain.'" 

You were swooning as a fangirl.

"I beg your pardon, I am literally a villain," he complained

Oh! I would literally," stressing upon the last word, "let him have me"

His face was irritated and you not coming close to making love made him anxious, that you might not be ready. He never inquired about you.   

You caressed his tummy, "hey, a penny for your thoughts, sir." It sounded like one of the Jack the Ripper prostitutes, about which you have constantly been talking.

His voice evolved deeper and his eyes did not leave yours "your deepest sexual desire. What do you crave?"

Comparing to your age, you were nervous and inexperienced. "My life was spent between books. I..."

He did not let you continue speaking and took your lips between his drawing your body closer to him, uttering between his hot kisses "I am not just a villain" his lips made the earth move "I am a God" whispering against the sport skin of your nick " a king" his hands were moving down the same tomes his lips reached the line of your bosom whilst his hand slides prevailed touching down pussy and dug his fingers driving you till the edge.

"I want you," you whispered between your soft moans.

He neglected your cravings and maintained his rhythm, watching your complexion and closed eyes till you arched your back in awe.

You collapsed between his arms heavily breathing "that was extremely wonderful, but I need you"

He kissed your lips playfully. "you are a delicious girl, Y/N, but..."

You hashed him with a kiss that he pulled from "if your life was between books, I want you to write me your deepest desire."

"Darling, it was a series, Alexie is fictional." You wrapped your arms around his neck.

"Fictional or not, he is a man, you are paying for this." 

He was deadly serious "write me your longing."

You laugh "What? Like the 50 Shades of Y/N?"

He gazed into your eyes "aiming to please and punish you, darling, avenging my honour"

The next morning when you were with your family on Sunday's lunch, he opened an email titled "50 Shades of Y/A"

 

The content was as follows:

"You!"

 

He grinned to himself and determined to show her how fiction can become real.

Your week was busy. He had signed a new contract for a mini-series and was supposed to film soon.

Not replying to your email made you nervous, even went meeting for dinner. He was quiet about it. 

You checked your sent box millions of times to make sure it arrived. Still, you knew he was busy working, and you were busy with the finals coming soon.

Thursday’s dinner, nothing yet, nothing but gaggling and discussing your days and current reads. 

"Darling, we did not decide this week's marathon" 

He did not take his eyes off the menu "Are not you having a big family week, you should go" he was confident and calm. 

Deep inside you wanted to grab his neck and jiggle him, but for the lady you are and the restaurant, you were calm.

"Wonderful!"

The dinner was over; he drove you home, kissed you goodnight.

Saturday morning, a ringing at your door. Apparently, you received a package, a big one.

You kept thinking that some books might have come early from your publisher. Unwrapping it to a surprise satin 1950 coat with Ruby red entourage and black heels.

There was also a note, she recognised the handwriting:

 

"Wear nothing but this for your punishment. If other pieces were found upon your body, then fear my fury and vengeance.

Love, 

T"

 

So, it was her version of Mr Grey. But have you ever been ready to comply with anyone?"

Suddenly, a message arrived on your phone 

"Reminder, a black will pick you tonight at 8, don't disobey me, Princess."

Your heel clicked on the floor as a man dressed in an old fashion suit opened the car for you. The windows were blacked out, so you did not see where it was heading.

"Welcome, Princess," he greeted you as if you were royalty, "My master is awaiting your presence."

You took his hands. The place was carved out of one of your favourite dark fantasies, a mansion with gargoyles, dark lighting, and a vast garden.

You could not believe your eyes. Tom knew your deepest desires indeed.

But that is not the end.

The inside was as of a dark enchantment with deep red flowers and candles. The servant showed you the way to a dining room fit for a feast. Tom was not there. 

"My master requires you to await his arrival." The servant bowed and left.

You were like a child been left inside her favourite toyshop. The ornaments, the lighting, and even the shapes of the food. That aesthetic you only could dream of but never reach.

"Enjoying yourself already?" You turned to find your man dressed in a black Victorian suit. His face was shaved, shorter hair, no glasses. Just all of the handsome glory.

You took a step forward "no princess, I shall come for you"

He kissed your hand and then sat on the table's head, while it sat on the opposite side and faced you away indeed.

"Are you pleased, princess?" He raised his glass of red wine.

"Yes, my Prince." You smile.

"In here, you shall address me as your king." His eyes lit with fire, and his voice was harsh.

You played along and raised an eyebrow "my king."

"This is not a game, princess, you are my prisoner"

You dined quietly, as he did not drop his eyes from you.

"Enjoying yourself?"

You flirted "deeply, my king"

He left his chair and came closer to you, his fingers left your chain so you can gaze into your eyes.

He asked, "care for a dance?"

You smiled "I would love to."

You stepped forward and took his hand to a ballroom, just for you and him, the dark king.

The following piece of music was sensual and moving.

"The coat, princess, I want to see nothing but heels on your body,"

You obeyed the king, but for a tick. When you took it off, underneath it a short emerald green strapless corset dress tight upon the curves of your body and pushed your bosoms to their glory.

He grinned and his eyes darken "looking for further punishment, I suppose?" 

"Anything to please the king." You took his hand and kissed it. He did not expect it.

He turned furiously and the next song was romantic. He wrapped his arms around you once again, waltz, you sneaky woman, deserved joy before being punished.

Twirling you on the dance floor like the earth has no one but the two of you.

By the end, he carried you "to my chambers, little one"

You were nervous and anxious. What if he did not like what was underneath the dress?

He entered a candlelight room with a four-poster bed in the centre. The curtains of the bed were black and emerald. 

He laid you in bed, kissing your lips and playing with your hair. 

His breathing was heating against your skin.

"You won't miss that dress, will you, princess?"

He did not wait for your reply as he lifted a dagger amongst the layers of his suit and cut the corset down to the last piece of the dress.

You wore nothing else. You were lying exposed as he stood to look upon your naked curves for the first time. 

You spontaneously tried to cover your bosom and private parts.

"No, do not you dare" he was angry and you could not distinguish reality from fantasy.

You throw the rest of the dress away. Hands laying by your head and he stood there for a juncture, gazing at every inch of your body.

"Turn," he ordered angrily as if the soul of Loki took over him, "I said, turn" 

You nearly dropped tears "here my king" 

You felt the softness of his lips upon your delicate shoulders.

Kissing the line of your spine. He knows this will work like magic. You tickle from your back, now trying to lick you, taste you, slap you.

He flipped you to face him. You were sobbing. He could hear it under your moans.

"You are not a princess, you are not a queen."

He wipes her tears from her cheek "you are a goddess and I am your slave."

You giggled between your tears, wrapping your arms around his neck "my king"

"Your, slave" As his voice became softer, he hushed you with a finger.

He kissed every inch of your body. You were playing with his short blonde locks.

"Let me worship your bosom, my goddess" he kissed, licked and played with your nipples and cupped your bosoms gently.

Kissing down till he reached your pussy, "Let me worship your temple" as he licked your clitoris.

You were moaning loader now

“Not this time, my king I want you inside me."

"Alright, as the pleasure of my goddess, I shall obey." 

He adjusted his weight on you and asked, "wider for me, my goddess of beauty" 

You opened for him as he enters you for the first time. You let out a loud breath "are you alright" he took your hands between his.

"Continue, my king."

He is just thrusting himself gently inside you. Your moans filling the room 

"I am a villain, a king, a god, and a man"

Your hands were free to run along his back as he continued, "a man, no, a slave for my goddess"

You were moving with him and moaning louder, "my king, what else?"

 Thursinting himself harder and moving with a faster pace.

"My goddess, the sculptures of beauty," between his breathing and moaning "Da Vinci would not be able to capture your grace"

You were kissing as your nail dug inside his shoulders.

His last whispers as moving himself inside your pussy which was clutching around his manhood. He moved with pace, as you rocked your lap against him

"I will live in thy heart," kissing your lips as you bite his lower lip between your steamy breath. "Die in thy lap, and be buried in thy eyes.”

He was going faster now and you were in tremendous awe and your skin was heating up with your pleasure.

"Look at me goddess" you were closing your eyes as you become close to you your orgasm "look at me," he ordered 

"I love thee, Tom," you said as your pussy was clutching around his manhood and trembling underneath him. His enormous climax followed your orgasm. 

You were shaking. He used his hands to keep himself from crushing you with his weight.

He rested his forehead on yours till both of you caught your breath. Gently took you between his arms as resting on his side "and I love thee, Y/N"

kissed you and as you were falling asleep, yet muttered, "I made you my villain, did not I?"

He giggles, "I beg your pardon, your God, King, and lover"

You kissed for the last time of that night and snuggle between peacefully each other's arms.

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

Tag list:

@shafverani

@imsebastiansta-n

@brokenwitty

@221bshrlocked (awaiting your feedback)

@sinner-as-saint

@zemosimp05

@buckys-fairy

[licncourt]

What if Lestat and Louis are humans of our time? What things would change? what jobs would they have? do you have any headcanon?

Okay, here's my proposal for modern human AU Loustat (tw for some dark content, but nothing that isn't already in the books. I'll put most of it under a cut just in case)

Louis is a nepotism trust fund baby. He's making big bucks off his late father's real estate investments and spends most of his time on paperwork/bookkeeping or holed up in his fancy New Orleans townhouse

Lestat is an ex-theater actor, current rock singer, and aspiring fantasy novelist who moved to the US from France to get away from his family and his ex, high school sweetheart Nicolas, and he's pretty adrift in his "fresh start"

They meet in their early twenties at a bad time in their lives. Louis is grieving the sudden death of his brother, Paul, and having a bit of a sexuality crisis all while dealing with newly presenting alcoholism. Lestat is struggling with the news of Nicki's suicide after their breakup and dealing with the aftermath of a sexual assault that ended his stage acting career while trying to keep his band afloat

When Lestat first sees Louis, he's out on a bender at a dive bar and is the spitting image of Nicki. It's love at first sight (he's got a thing for sad brunettes with drinking problems in any universe) and he's blasted enough to go introduce himself. Lestat is exactly Louis' type and he's had enough vodka to shut up the internalized homophobia, so they go home together and have very pathetic and depressing yet frenzied sex

Even though it turns out they kinda can't stand each other the next day, something about the night before sort of trauma bonded them and they're feeling self-destructive enough to keep going out

They're hardly even on speaking terms most of the time but also weirdly committed. It's very fucked up and codependent, but they're definitely in love even if they won't acknowledge it. Sometimes things are good and they go on real dates and kiss and have fun together, but other times all they do is scream at each other and have angry sex in a neverending loop

Lestat is in BPD overdrive in this new toxic relationship and not dealing with his trauma even a little bit. Louis is still depressed and drinking and his control issues around his sexuality and addiction caused his eating disorder to escalate out of control, and that puts even more strain on the relationship. They can't stop bringing out the worst in one another

It all comes to a head when one of their fights turns very physical and Louis leaves that night. They don't see each other for years, but they never stop thinking about their relationship. Neither of them are even close to "good", but they do make some progress on their own

Lestat goes on to pursue his writing more than his music and publishes his first novel some time down the road. It's a bestseller. Louis, bookworm that he is, finds out about it immediately and waits outside a bookstore where Lestat is doing a signing and a show with his band

(Lestat held one in New Orleans on the tiny off-chance Louis might come)

They spend the entire night together, just talking. The time apart has made them both realize the mistakes they made and how much potential they wasted making themselves miserable. There are no apologies yet, but there's an understanding. Empathy where there wasn't before

They get back together and it's different this time. It's hard, REALLY hard, but they're trying. It takes a lot of patience and even more therapy, but they get it right this time. When Louis proposes, Lestat doesn't hesitate to say yes

In their thirties, Claudia comes along. Her mother died of cancer when she was five and she doesn't have any other family. She's a perfect fit and she's their pride and joy from the first day

Her interests are more in line with Louis', but she's a blonde menace after Lestat's own heart. There are some rough patches where Lestat's generational trauma comes back to haunt him, but he's determined not to become his father and he fixes things with Claudia before it's too late

Not long after Claudia joins their family, Lestat finds them the perfect house on Rue Royale and they live happily ever after there

(Claudia grows into the most wonderful young lady ❤)

[writing-in-april]

MGG Characters Masterlist

This is my Masterlist for characters that Matthew Gray Gubler portrays. They are sorted by fluff, angst and smut and from first posted to last. Requests are open for this actor. Upcoming fics are on my main Masterlist. ♥️=Author’s Favorite⚠️=Major trigger warning Main Masterlist

Spencer Reid x Reader

SERIES (2+ chapters):

Chronological series:

The Five Stages of Grief : Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader: Spencer going through the stages of grief after the death of the Reader. (ANGST) ♥️⚠️ —completed—

- Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde: Dom!Spencer: Spencer Reid x Female Reader: Reader meets a mysterious man at the library during book club. ♥️ -in progress- -prompt/request—fic swap— (18+)

Unlinked series:

Spencer Reid & Letters: Group of fics exploring how Spencer and different types of Readers correspond through letters and their relationships.(Fluff- may contain angst & smut in the future) -in progress-

Fluff:

Oneshots:

- Ghost Story : Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader: Spencer tells Reader a ghost story before the power goes out.—request—

- Curl Recovery : Post Prison Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Curly Hair Reader: Spencer’s hair took a beating in prison along with the rest of his being. Reader helps Spencer gain a little back of what he lost. ♥️-Hurt/Comfort-

- 9 o’clock : Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Barista Reader: Reader is an owner of a coffee shop and learns the identity of her late night regular as well as the reason why he likes so much sugar in his coffee.

- Dahlias :Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader: Spencer over analyzing what type of flowers to get for Reader for their first date ♥️-fic swap-

- Happy Coincidences : Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader: You keep running into Spencer before work will you ever get his number? -request-

- The Best Time To Wear a Striped Sweater: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader: Where does Spencer’s striped sweater go after the first episode?—1000 follower celebration—

- My Knight in Shiny Armor: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader: Reader is a fantasy novelist and writes Spencer into their story. ♥️ —fic swap—

- The Melody Lives On: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader: Seeing Spencer after so long apart makes past feelings come to the surface again.

- Cinematic Coincidences: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader: Spencer can’t bring himself to go on another date that’s been set up for him- so he stands his date up. Spence seemingly can’t catch a break and runs into the date he stood up. -30 fics in 30 days-

- Origins: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader (Reader is from a specific geographical location): Reader feels homesick after a particularly gruesome case. Spencer can’t buy a plane ticket, but he can try to help recreate part of home with them. -30 fics in 30 days-

- Question and Answer: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader: Garcia gets Reader to answer some questions about their feelings for Spencer. -30 fics in 30 days-

- Shining Bright Above You: Spencer Reid x Male Reader: Spencer finally gets to go out with his boyfriend after getting out of prison and gets to see the light despite the overwhelming darkness. ♥️-30 fics in 30 days-

- Unwinding in the Vines: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader: Reader can’t get enough of cuddling Spencer. -30 fics in 30 days-

- Manicured: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader: Spencer finally lets Reader paint his nails. -30 fics in 30 days-

Blurbs/Ficlets:

- Lactose Intolerant: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader : Spencer loves dairy despite his allergy, it comes back to bite him and reader takes care of him. ♥️

- Spooked: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader: Reader really wishes Spencer hadn’t picked a haunted house as a team bonding exercise.

- Four More Months & No More Months Spencer Reid x Pregnant Female Reader: Spencer talking to their baby while Reader pretends to sleep.-1000 follower celebration-1250 follower celebration-request-

Angst:

Oneshots:

- Jinxed : Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader : Reader is deeply affected by a case and is comforted by Spencer, at the end of the case Reader gets injured. (ENDS HAPPY)

- Too little Too Late : Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader: Spencer isn’t sure what he’s fighting for anymore and feels abandoned by Y/N and his team. Set post Revelations. Major Trigger Warnings ⚠️ (SAD ENDING)

- A Greek Tragedy: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader (Masc. coded) :Spencer and Reader’s lives now resemble a Greek tragedy after Spencer returns from his kidnapping. ♥️⚠️(Hurt Comfort) (Light at the first of a tunnel sad ending)-prompt/request-

- Off the Table: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader: Based off the Ariana Grande song off the table. Reader wants to ask Spencer- I’d love off the table? ♥️⚠️ —1000 follower celebration— —request-

- Converging Parallels: Spencer Reid x Female Single Mom Reader: Spencer goes to a support group Penelope suggested after the death of Maeve. He quickly connects with a single mom who’s experiences have been similar to Spencer’s. -30 fics in 30 days-

- Tiny Vessels: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader: Spencer is done lying to himself about his true feelings for reader, but isn’t done lying to them. ♥️-30 fics in 30 days-

Smutty (not full on smut, smut is further down):

Oneshots:

- Yeah: Sub!Spencer: Spencer Reid x Female Reader: When Reader’s favorite song comes on while they’re out at a bar with the team, Reader can’t resist wanting to dance with Spencer even if it outs their secret relationship. -request-

- Training Wheels: Sub!Spencer: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader: Years ago Spencer taught Reader to drive despite the fact that he hates driving. When they become good at driving enough to learn how to ride a motorcycle they get Spencer to come along for a ride.

Smut:

Oneshots:

Sub!Spencer Reid x Reader:

x Gender Neutral Reader:

- Georgia Peach: Sub!Spencer: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader: Spencer sees reader eating a peach and goes a little crazy. ♥️ -request-

- Helping hands: Sub!Spencer: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader: After a bad case Spencer needs help shaving after getting injured, he gets help from the least likely person to help in his life. ♥️ (Enemies to lovers) -prompt/request-

- Slapped: Sub!Spencer: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader x Elle Greenaway: impromptu little fic that @sparklinspence and I ended up writing quickly in the reblogs about Spencer getting his cock slapped while away on a case. ♥️

x Female Reader:

- Surprise Pretty Boy  :Sub!Spencer : Spencer Reid x Female Reader : Reader hasn’t had any sex in what feels like forever, so she seduces Spencer. When they get to Reader’s apartment she has a surprise waiting for him.

- Solaris: Sub!Spencer : Spencer Reid x Female Reader : Spencer and Reader finally get a vacation, so they go and see a Russian film called Solaris. Reader coxes Spencer into getting freaky in the theatre.

- Painted Nails: Sub!Spencer: Spencer Reid x Female Reader: Spencer’s dom paints his nails for date night and she goes crazy at the sight of them.—-request—-

- Plot twist: Sub!Spencer: Spencer Reid x Female Reader: Reader buys a new pair of heels but they aren’t for her. ♥️ —750 follower celebration—

- Keep Reading: Sub!Spencer: Spencer Reid x Female Reader: Reader brings a surprise for Spencer at their picnic date. -♥️—750 follower celebration— —prompt/request-

- Braided Brat: Sub!Spencer: Spencer Reid x Female Reader: Spencer lets Reader braid his hair, he can’t help but tease her. —750 follower celebration—

- Pleasent Surprise: Sub!Spencer: Spencer Reid x Female Reader: Reader asks Spencer if she can try to be more dominant in the bedroom. —750 follower celebration—

- Guest Lecturer: Sub!Spencer: Spencer Reid x Female Reader: gets Spencer riled up during class while he’s guest lecturing. ♥️—750 follower celebration—

-Taking care: Sub!Spencer: Spencer Reid x Female Reader: Spencer needs Reader to help him relax after some people were unkind to him —750 follower celebration—-request-

- Good in Red: Sub!Spencer: Spencer Reid x Female Reader: Spencer really likes the color of your lipstick. ♥️ —1000 follower celebration—

- Green with Envy: Sub!Spencer: Spencer Reid x Female Reader: Spencer gets mad over something reader can’t control and a fight ensues- plus heavy makeup sex after the fight.

- Soured Nostalgia: Sub!Spencer: Spencer Reid x Female Reader: When Reader moves their stuff in to Spencer’s apartment they find photos that he kept over the years. One photo of the past springs up memories of Spencer’s precious relationship with Elle. ♥️-30 fics in 30 days-

-Erotica Explained: Spencer Reid x Female Reader: Spencer finds Reader’s erotica writing. ♥️-30 fics in 30 days-

Dom!Spencer Reid x Reader:

- Star Trek vs. Star Wars: Dom!Spencer: Spencer Reid x Female Reader Smut: Spencer and reader get into a heated argument over which is better Star Trek or Star Wars, Reader in turn breaks some of Spencer’s rules. —fic swap—

- The Case of the Missing Coffee: Dom!Spencer: Spencer Reid x Female Reader Smut: Spencer gets on Reader’s nerves just a little too much one day.—fic swap—

-Occupied: Dom!Spencer: Spencer Reid x Female Reader: Spencer and Reader get caught in a bar bathroom by one of their coworkers after Reader couldn’t keep their hands to themselves. -500 follower celebration- -prompt/request-

- Birthday Spankings: Dom!Spencer: Spencer Reid x Female Reader: A normally shy reader decides to tease Spencer on his birthday thinking she could get away with it —request—

- Poker Face: Dom!Spencer: Spencer Reid x Female Reader: Reader thought she could get away with speaking her desires out loud as long as they were in a different language. Turns out, someone could understand her. ♥️

- April Fools: Dom!Spencer (not as harsh as others): Spencer Reid x Female Reader: Spencer needs to one up Reader just as he’s about to loose a prank war. —30 fics in 30 days-

- Dressed in Crimson: Dom!Spencer: Spencer Reid x Female Reader:(Royalty AU)Spencer is a stable boy with a passion for learning and Reader is the princess of the palace that he serves in. They’ve been in a secret relationship, the two grow restless about not being able to be out in the open. ♥️ -30 fics in 30 days-

Non specific dom Spencer Reid x Reader:

- Russian Roulette: Non specific dom: Spencer Reid x Female Unsub Reader: Reader and Spencer formed a relationship during an investigation, turns out she was the unsub they were looking for. Spencer finds the Readers hiding place cornering her, but he can’t let her go yet. Major Trigger Warnings ♥️⚠️ (SAD ENDING)

- Mismatched: Non specific dom: Spencer Reid x Female Reader: Reader is Spencer’s roommate and they have been pining after each other for a while. One morning they finally get to act on their feelings.

- The Big Bluff: Non specific dom: Spencer Reid x Female Reader: Spencer goes up against a professional poker player. ♥️-500 follower celebration-

- Any Iteration: Non specific dom: Spencer Reid x Female Reader: Reader is nervous that this new iteration of her won’t be something Spencer will like. ♥️

Blurbs:

- A Snowy Morning After: Part One, Part Two: Non specific dom: Spencer Reid x Female Reader: After being snowed in after a one night stand, Spencer wants to go for a round two. -1000 follower celebration—30 fics in 30 days-

Chip Taylor x Reader (MGG character from 68 kill)

Fluff:

Oneshots:

- Chipped: Chip Taylor x Gender Neutral Reader: Chip Taylor watching Beauty and the beast for the first time with Reader. -500 follower celebration- -prompt/request-

Angst:

Smut:

Oneshots:

Sub!Chip Taylor x Reader:

- Party Play: Sub!Chip: Chip Taylor x Female Reader: After Reader gets Chip to voice one of his deepest desires Reader takes him to a play party Reader’s friend hosts. ♥️-30 fics in 30 days-

Raymond Wadsworth x Reader (MGG character from Suburban Gothic)

Fluff:

Oneshots:

- Unsolved: Raymond Wadsworth x Gender Neutral Reader: Raymond runs into the buzzfeed unsolved duo investigating the same place he is, plus their cute camera operator. -500 follower celebration- -prompt/request-

Smut:

Oneshots:

Sub!Raymond Wadsworth:

- Spooks: Sub!Raymond: Raymond Wadsworth x Female Reader: Raymond starts sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong at the next haunting he’s investigating. ♥️ -30 fics in 30 days-

Angst:

Oneshots:

Blurbs:

- Birthday Blues: Raymond Wadsworth x Gender Neutral Reader: Raymond wants his partner to come back from the dead.

Franklin x Reader (MGG character from Beginner’s luck)

Fluff:

Oneshots:

- Bowling Ball Baby Franklin x Pregnant Female Reader: Franklin and Reader get into a fight about him not being there for Reader’s pregnancy. He has a unique way of apologizing.♥️-Hurt/Comfort-

- Gutter Balls Franklin x Male Reader: While meeting up for a friendly game of bowling with Franklin’s team some very rude people try to insert their opinion on yours and Franklin’s relationship. (Has some angst but is v happy). —request—

- Chili Cheese Fries: Franklin x Gender Neutral Reader: Franklin tries to make bowling alley food taste better during a first date. ♥️ -30 fics in 30 days-

Angst:

Smut:

Oneshots:

- The Owner’s Office: Dom!Franklin: Franklin x Female Reader: Franklin won’t stop pestering the owner of the alley about getting a discount. —1000 follower celebration— —prompt/request— ♥️

Lesley Smith-Juniment x Reader (MGG in Hot Air)

Fluff:

- Unintentionally Unrequited: Lesley Smith-Juniment x Gender Neutral Reader: Reader holds in their love for Lesley after his broken engagement. -30 fics in 30 days-

Angst:

Smut:

-Will be adding more characters in the future-

[cthulhuliet]

Hi hi ~~ big fan of your Lawlight work * chef kiss * So, if it serves to inspire you I got this little idea! NSFW A huge hc of mine is that Light loves L reading for him with that hot British accent of his, like come on, L`s dubbed voice with a brit accent??*agressive chef kiss* SOO imagine Light resting his head on L`s lap while L is reading to him and things get lewd in the novel :D maybe things coul get lewd in reality too 👀👀 oh, and another hc of mine is that Light rides D like a pro so ... maybe something with both? if you'd like 👉👈 No pressure at all tho!

Thank you so much for your kind words :') I am a fan of your Lawlight work as well, and even though it took a two weeks or so (my bad) I really hope you enjoy! (it also, as always, turned out to be a lot longer than I meant it).

close your eyes and imagine it

3.1k words | AO3 Link | warnings: explicit content, general kink, you know the drill

Most of the dreams were incomprehensible nonsense, and L had just about given up on the month of April when he saw a long entry that made him pause. His eyes widened at the contents. “Huh.”

Light shifted a little bit to make himself more comfortable, eyes only half open, “Hmm? Find something interesting?”

“I am in this one. Did you frequently dream about me?”

There was a beat, and Light responded coolly, “I cannot remember specifics. Hence, the journal.”

L hummed, a small smirk Light could not see grew on his face, “Well then, I will read this one out loud for your benefit.

OR

The one where Light discovers a dream journal he had written during the Kira investigation and can't help but be embarrassed by L's role in his fantasies. L, of course, does not mind. -

“A dream journal?” L questioned. He closed his laptop and Light smirked, raising an eyebrow, holding the notebook in his hands. L crossed the room and took the journal from Light, “Where did you find this?”

Light shrugged, “On my bookshelf with a lot of my other textbooks and such.”

“How old is this?”

“Was in my late teens, I suspect.”

L flipped through the book idly, Light’s neat handwriting was pleasant and clean compared to L’s own scrawled and messy penmanship. The pages slightly stuck together, as the old notebook seemed to have not been touched in years. L stopped at a page and briefly read the contents and looked at the date, before his own eyes widened.

“Hang on, this is during-”

“The Kira investigation? Yeah.” Light’s slight smirk turned into a large cheshire. “I figured you might be interested in reading what I wrote.”

L bit his bottom lip, looking up at Light, one eyebrow raised, “Does the Death Note still give you nightmares to this day?”

Shrugging, Light came up to L and looked over his shoulder at the notebook, “I mean, sometimes? But I also believe that having nightmares is just a part of being a person.”

“Or you have become so numb to your own murderous tendencies the nightmares do not affect you that much anymore.” L muttered, just loud enough for Light to hear.

He did hear him, of course, and he retaliated by shoving L hard enough for him to fall backwards onto their bed. Light socked L on the arm when he flopped down onto his back as well as L went to read Light’s journal to himself.

“Leave me alone, Light, can’t you see I am busy?” L teased, which earned him another hit on his arm, “You are being bothersome.”

Light crossed his arms, now sitting next to L laying down on the bed, “Those are my dreams, you are not reading without me, obviously.”

“Well then lie down so I can read them to you.” Light was the most frustrating man that L had ever been with. He wouldn’t have him any other way.

L sat up and rested his back against the headboard. Light assumed his usual position and rested his head on L’s lap. L idly put his hands through Light soft brown locks, twirling his soft hair through his fingers.

This was not an unusual position to find the pair in. Light often requests that L read to him, the other man finding the restrained but smooth baritone of L’s voice to be incredibly attractive, but also incredibly calming to listen to. It is not the first time his voice has been complimented, and it certainly will not be the last. Sayu has told L multiple times that he should become a voice over actor. He politely declined. The rest of the people do not matter, really. The only praise he needs is when Light humbly hands him a book he reads before bed, and falls asleep to L’s voice quicker than any amount reading on his own.

“‘ April 1st, 2004: I was present for class at To-Oh university, however we were all forced to give a presentation about when we believe all of our classmates will die and why. This was a horribly dark and drab lecture hall, and I had forgotten my cue cards about why Sakurano Mari was going to die due to dementia .’  This is not exactly a fun read.”

“It was not exactly fun to think about either.”

“I am going to find a different one.”

L used one hand to run his fingers through Light’s hair and the other to flip through the journal, skimming through the contents. Most of the recounts were incomprehensible nonsense, though there is no judgement to be had there. Whenever L does sleep, most of his dreams are disconnected fragments of stories -- feelings and emotions rather than a complete narrative.

L had just about given up on the month of April when he saw a long entry that made him pause. His eyes widened at the contents.

“Huh.”

Light shifted a little bit to make himself more comfortable, eyes only half open, “Hmm? Find something interesting?”

“I am in this one.”

“Are you?”

“Did you frequently dream about me?”

There was a beat, and Light responded coolly, “I cannot remember specifics. Hence, the journal.”

L hummed, a small smirk Light could not see grew on his face, “Well then, I will read this one out loud for your benefit:

“‘ Damn that Ryuzaki. He is plaguing my thoughts not only during the day, but I cannot even escape the damn bastard in my dreams’, I love you too, dearest ,” L sardonically snided. Light pinched his thigh , “ ‘Last night's events were particularly egregious, as this is not the first time something like this has happened, but I feel mortified even writing this down. Though, maybe if I recount what happened (like with the nightmares) these dreams will go down in their numbers.

“‘Ryuzaki and myself were in the library studying next to one another. I was eating a biscotti with tea. As it was in my mouth, Ryuzaki came up and bit off the end of my biscotti and just chuckled at me. I wasn’t sure what to do or say, but I just know I felt really hot an -’”

“L…” Light gripped his thigh dangerously, “What are you doing.” It was phrased as a question, but Light said it as a command. He ignored him. Light was never the one to give out commands anyway.

“‘ I cannot remember much but the next moment Ryuzaki’s lips were on my neck. Everything was fuzzy, but I could feel him biting marks into me and was teasing me by grinding against my di- ’”

Light growled, “I’m taking this away from you. Now.” He moved to sit up, but L’s hand was still in his hair. L gripped his roots harshly and shoved him back down. Light whined at the action, swallowing hard.

“You are not going anywhere.” That was a command, and Light took it as such.

“This is mortifying…” Light muttered against the mattress, his speech breathy.

L hummed and pulled Light’s hair up, forcing him to look at him, “I disagree.” He lied. “You are going to be good and listen to me read this whole thing.”

Light laughed, cocky, though his eyes were glassy with flushed cheeks, “Oh yeah? Or what?”

“Or how about I get to come and you don’t, hmm?” Light opened his mouth and closed it again, face flushed with shame. L let go of his hair and Light buried his head in L’s lap. L smirked and chuckled, “You are so adorable, all blushy and embarrassed…” Light whined at that, running his fingernail down the inside of L’s thigh.

“‘ This is not the first time this has happened, though I have to admit, it was the best incident. Even hazy, I had never felt that sensitive and stimulated. I just wanted to stay like that forever.’” L had one hand on the book, the other held a distracted, but firm, grip in Light’s hair, who was presently biting his lip and running soft strokes over L’s cock. “‘It was even better when I got to put my mouth on Ryuzaki. I have never sucked a dick before, so my brain could only supply what it imagines it feels like, but it was not even that that made it so good. Ryuzaki would hold my hair tight and look down at me while I was on my knees. He kept telling me that I was a slut, but that I was doing such a good job for him. Even before this I thought Ryuzaki had such a nice voice, I wish I could hear him more…’ You think my voice is nice, huh?” L asked, keeping his voice level, as Light’s feather touches became firm palming.

He groaned again, “Tch, shut up.”

“No.” L pulled him by his hair, forcing Light to look him in the eye, “I think it is time you shut up.” In only a few seconds, L manhandled Light and dropped him to his knees on the floor at the edge of the bed. L sat at the end, grabbing the journal with one hand and undoing his jeans with the other. “How many times have you sucked dick since writing this? Hundreds?” Light finished the job of removing L’s pants and underwear, his cock standing erect in front of him, “C’mon cock-slut, show me what you got.”

Light eagerly took L in his mouth, expertly utilizing his tongue on his head. L closed his eyes and tried to not become overwhelmed by the sensation. He opened his eyes to see Light’s cocky doe-eyes staring back up at him.

“What was it that you dreamed of? My hand tight in your hair, fucking your mouth, telling you you’re being a good slut, right?” L asked, rhetorically as he returned his hand to harshly grip Light’s locks. He slowly moved Light’s head up and down, spit dribbled out of the corners of his mouth. Light’s face was blood red with humiliation and lust, it was perfect.

L bit his lip as Light took him all the way down his throat, refusing to be the one to break first. He picked up the journal again, eyes focusing and unfocusing on the work in front of him. “‘ Ryuzaki kept calling me good boy, telling me I was taking him so well, and never had anyone ever made him feel as good as I was. I felt so overwhelmed. I had never felt such extreme desire for anyone, but I think at that moment I would do anything for him.’ Do you still want to hear all that? Still want me to call you a good boy, and tell you you are taking me so well?”

Light groaned around L’s cock, the vibrations from his throat sent a shiver up his spine and L suppressed a needy whine on his end. After years of doing this, Light knows exactly how to push him to the very edge-- to give him so much and yet not enough.

“‘ My memory gets a little fuzzy here, but Ryuzaki laid down on the desk, and he grabbed me by the thighs so hard I think I would have had bruises in reality. I grabbed him by the throat and rode him on the desk. A part of me was worried, because the conference room in the library was all glass, but also my head was so hazy and it felt so good.’” L pressed a thumb against his lips, “Had Light fucked himself on toys at this point?”

He pulled off of L, slowly stroking him as he thought about it, “I think at that time I had. I only realized I was not straight shortly after high school, and my sexual drive moved pretty fast after that.”

“‘Shortly after high school’, shortly after meeting me, right?” L smirked. Light opened his mouth to attempt a retort, but just narrowed his eyes.

“Such an egomaniac you are,” Light scoffed, “Not everything is about you.”

“No, not everything. But this is.” L reached under their bed and pulled out a box of toys and lube. He casually tossed the bottle and a large blue dildo in front of Light, “Stretch yourself open with that. I want to see you.”

“You don’t want to do it yourself?”

“Like you have earned that privilege yet.” L leaned forward (careful to not fall off the edge) and grabbed Light by the chin, forcing him to look L in the eye, “You’re going to open yourself up on that cock, and when your slutty hole is ready for me, you can ride me like in your fantasies.”

He could almost see the blood rushing to Light’s ears-- being literally talked down to-- condescended and scolded like a child. And yet, his pupils were blown all the way out, L barely seeing the amber color of Light’s eyes, and his jeans and underwear were, of course, already halfway to his ankles.

Light took the tip of the toy and fucked his mouth in and out with it, eyes never leaving L’s. He was already 3 fingers deep inside of himself, lewdly moaning around the cock very intentionally.

“This is a good look for you,” L remarked, breathily, slowly stroking his own cock.

Light suctioned the dick to the hardwood, and hovered over it, teasing his hole with the tip, “Well, if you are going to keep calling me a slut- fuck… I might as well lean into it.” Light bottomed out on the toy, one hand running through his hair, another sucking on two fingers as he slowly moved. Light, flushed and fucked out and using himself, was the pinnacle of sex and desire-- L began to question his decision about who exactly this was a punishment for.

“Ngh, this cock is so big , L… But it doesn’t feel nearly as good as yours.” Light dragged his teeth across the bottom of his lip, pointed looking at L’s cock, now leaking precum. Light knew he was getting to L. He knew exactly how he looked and exactly what L was thinking.

Fucker. Two can play at that.

L slowed down his own movements, raising an eyebrow at Light, “A common whore like yourself would be satisfied with any cock inside of him. You want mine so bad? Close your eyes, think…” L held the book open with one hand, “‘ I feel like I am going crazy. I am supposed to want this stupid bastard dead. And yet all I want right now are my hands on him and his on mine-’” Light groaned, finally touching his neglected aching cock, “‘-and it is so hard to focus on bringing him down, when the entire time I am dreaming about Ryuzaki’s voice in my ear, and my hands around his throat, and his tongue and mouth on me everywhere . I may just have to take care of him so I stop feeling this way... ’ My my, Kira... ” Light groaned at the name, “I thought you would be a bit more careful than to let your inner thoughts so out in the open like this. What would have happened if someone had gotten a hold of this?”

“I- Fuck- Academic rivalries are not uncommon....”

“I wanted to sentence you to death and you still could not stop thinking about me inside of you-”

“Oh shit L…”

“-or my hands on your cock or my fingers stretching you wide open. You still want me to whisper in your ear and moan , telling you what a good boy you are, right?”

“Yes… yes I want that L…”

L tutted, “And yet you aren’t a good boy. Desperate and begging… Writing down naughty thoughts and fantasies about someone who you wanted to die?” L shook his head, casually tossing the book aside. He reached for his own cock again, slowly stroking it watching Light fall apart, giving himself dual sensations, “Kira needs to make up his mind about what he wants. Because I don’t think he is good at all.”

“ L please…”

“Please, what?”

“Please let me on your cock.”

“Why would I allow that?”

Light stopped his movements on the dildo, only slowly stroking his cock at the same speed as L was his own, “I am not a good boy, I am a cock-slut for you, and only ever you. Fuck me please,” Light begged, broken and desperate.

L stood up and grabbed Light’s hands, pulling him off of the toy. He brushed the hair out of Light’s eyes and pulled Light on top of him, “So good, Kira. You don’t have to be a good boy for me, you can just be my good slut.”

He kissed L, hard, biting his bottom lip as he lined himself up on L’s dick and sunk down on him.

“ Fuck, you feel so much better than that cheap plastic,” Light straddled L properly, pressing his hands against L’s chest as he rode him, not wasting anytime picking up speed.

“Such a good whore for me, Kira,” L said, kissing his wrist, “You really do ride cock like you get paid to do it.”

“I know,” Light said, breathy and fucked.

L huffed, “A bit cocky, aren-”

“Now it’s your turn to shut up,” Light said, pressing down on L’s pressure points, his fingertips pushing hard enough into his throat it will surely leave marks against his pale skin.

L’s eyes rolled in the back of his head and Light moved his hips faster, L snapping back up to meet his thrusts, which quickly became sloppy as black dots began dancing in the corners of his eyes and his lungs started burning. His eyes welled up with tears and his entire body was on fire, his limbs going limp. He felt the white, hot edge so close and tangible. Every thrust felt like a rattle of electricity hitting every nerve and every part of his consciousness so closely and he just needed more -- Light relented, moving his hands away from his throat. L eyes snapped open wide and he coughed, taking heavy breaths. Tears fell from the corners of his eyes, and he dug his fingertips into Light’s waist, harshly grabbing him by the hips.

“L? I’m sorry, you told me you would tap out if-”

“Kira, more-- again-- now.” L commanded, and Light did not hesitate. He grabbed him by the throat and put his fingers in L’s mouth for good measure. Light was riding him with expert pace and precision, his lower body strength and years of running paying off. L’s legs trembled, and he used the last bit of his unfucked mind to dig his nails into Light’s hips and rock him faster and faster on his cock, reaching that beautiful and terrible and intense edge.

“ Ah- L! ” Light comes only a few seconds before L himself, moaning around Light’s fingers as he loosened his grip, but still only letting a fraction of the air healthy for the human brain into his head.

Light did not move himself off of L immediately. He moved his hand away from his throat, but kept small pressure on his neck with one of his thumbs.

“What are you doing?” L muttered. Light said nothing. L opened his eyes, tapping him. “Light?”

Light blinked, looking back, “Sorry, was feeling your pulse.”

“Why?”

“Wanted to make sure I didn’t kill you.”

L smiled softly, “Don’t want me dead anymore?”

“Sometimes. Certainly not like this, it’s too personal.”

“What, killing me while my cock is in your ass is too close for comfort?”

“Something like.” Light smirked and pressed a soft kiss against L’s lips.

After cleaning up, Light told L he wanted to burn the dream journal to prevent further embarrassment.

“Over my dead body.” L said, holding the notebook just out of reach.

Light smirked, “I have no problem arranging that.”

[13atoms]

Deep Focus: Chapter 1 [Tom Hiddleston x Reader]

Summary: Tom’s a successful porn director with a romantic streak which proves very popular with his female audience. His resident porn actress and business partner has been with him through thick and thin, the two of them growing completely inseparable, even as her own career starts taking off.

But working in such close proximity is intense, and burgeoning feelings threaten to complicate their professional relationship.

Mature, smut, porn director!AU, ethical porn production discussion, porn-star-and-coworker!reader. Friends to lovers, slow-ish burn. [7.7k]

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There was such a style to everything Tom wrote, everything he directed. A sincere passion that you suspected was always meant to be used elsewhere. You wondered if his craftsmanship was ever appreciated, on the other side of the screen, as strangers got hot and bothered watching each meticulously designed frame of his vision come to life.

Sure, it was porn. But Tom directed it like he could win an Oscar for ‘hot lifeguard pounded poolside’. This was his livelihood, his passion, and it was a damn shame he wasn’t award-season eligible.

The names would make you wince, as you saw them uploaded to the site, thumbnails and previews drawing in viewers by the million with their shots of heaving bodies and glistening sweat. Tom never called the videos such crass things. Not in his scripts. You would get copies titled ‘Romantic Night In’ or ‘Office Love Affair.’ He was a fan of sugar-coating what would be inside those innocuous white pages, a veneer of respectability which Tom insisted upon, regardless of how obvious the true nature of the videos was. But once the videos were sold, it was out of his hands. Your face contorted mid-faux-orgasm would be plastered across the site, and everyone involved would try and forget what happened.

Ignore the comments.

Keep moving.

You often wondered how Tom wound up in this place, with his sharply tailored suits and polished shoes, eloquent and educated, his words almost poetic as he directed mid-budget porn in hotel rooms and his studio day-in, day-out.

Then again, he never seemed particularly bothered by it. He gave each shoot his full attention, his full boundless enthusiasm and all the professionalism he could muster. You wondered how he balanced it, sometimes, the creative drive to press on with trying to be creative and shoehorn romance into films knowing that, ultimately, it was porn.

He had interviewed you like a real director might, talking about your life and experience and ambitions, almost apologetic when he had finally choked out ‘could you undress’, barely glancing at your naked form before he hired you as his first employee.

You asked him early on, while watching him try and assemble a fake restaurant-date set in the studio, complete with faux windows and an extra playing a waiter, why he bothered when three-minutes of good quality fucking footage would make him the same amount of money. He’d given you a strange smile, the wrinkles beginning to appear at the corners of his eyes, and shrugged.

“I make what I’d like to see.”

The words haunted you later, as your rather attractive co-star bent you over the white-cloth covered dining table and you allowed mewls and groans to escape your mouth without a second thought. Trying to avoid the muted blue of Tom’s eyes behind the cameraman.

Despite your reservations when you first started to work for him, Tom had won you over. His gentler, more romantic approach to pornography had a loyal following. Both of your pseudonyms garnered huge numbers of views across various platforms, and Tom was keen to cultivate a collection of female-friendly porn. Against all the odds, it was working.

And you loved working with him. He was a great director, and inspired writer, and a genuinely brilliant boss. He made sure you saw royalties, good pay, that everyone you worked with was screened and tested, always keeping you safe. Always.

Each time he called a wrap, passing you a robe and offering a meek congratulations on your performance, you found yourself more and more pleased you had wound up working with him.

“You really do have a talent,” he’d told you one day, distracting you as you discussed a new script in his office.

You were sat opposite him, Tom’s glasses perched on his head as he watched you read, your feet resting against the leg of his desk. You’d come in to your shared workspace to try some costumes out, to discuss new scenes, still recovering from a thoroughly exhausting shoot the day before. There were still light bruises around your wrists, and you caught Tom glancing at them worriedly each time your long-sleeved shirt slipped.

“I love that you’re such an actor,” he continued, hands tapping the desk as he spoke, “like, a real actor.”

Your eyes drifted across the script, scanning it with your bottom lip between your teeth. He always appreciated your input, wanting the ‘female fantasy’ in a lot of his work, and he’d timidly shown you some ‘student-professor’ script he’d been working on. He was like that, embarrassed in a way which you wouldn’t expect from a man with his considerable experience in adult entertainment. He was assertive, certain, even stern where it counted. But with just the two of you together, dancing around what was sexy and what wasn’t, he seemed desperate to avoid saying anything you might perceive as too ‘crude’.

“What do you mean?” you’d chuckled, still flicking through the first draft.

He only entrusted you with such early versions of his work – but that made sense. Your careers were symbiotic, tied to one another with an unspoken pact. He directed everything you were in, and you were in everything he directed.

It made sense.

“You don’t just… I don’t know. You never make my scripts seem silly. Or cheesy. You… you really try and make them feel real. I could write anything, and you’ll deliver the lines well. I was overseeing auditions earlier and... I just kept thinking none of them were you. I think you might be the best in the business.”

You rolled your eyes, offering him a disbelieving smirk, and he scoffed.

“I’m serious! I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

The weight of his words settled heavy in your chest, and you turned back to the script, frowning as you flicked through the loose-leaf pages. Tom fidgeted behind his desk, unhappy with losing your attention, but you ignored him.

“Here. If you want the fantasy to be believable, I think he needs to lock the office door. Make a show of it, you know. Cover my mouth,” you comment dismissively. Tom already has as pen in his hand, making notes. “It could be hot, maybe ‘Don’t make a sound or you can’t cum’, something like that. As if there’s other students in the corridor outside.”

Nodding, Tom dutifully wrote down your words, mouth slightly open in realisation as he listened.

“Don’t make a sound…” Tom repeated, and you felt yourself blush.

“Not… not that exactly,” you backtracked, “you’re the real writer! I just think, there needs to be some build up. A remind of the power dynamic. Him going straight to oral is a bit… fast. That could happen in any old plot, you know?”

You felt his eyes on you, looking up from the paper to spot Tom leaning back in his chair, a distant smile on his face.

“You really are the best,” he praised, “that’s great. I’ll do rewrites tonight.”

For a moment, you let his words hang heavy in the air. Then you blinked back at him, a slight frown pinching your forehead at his strange mood. He was calm, for once. Tom was usually a ball of enthusiasm, and you wondered if your dismissal of his words earlier had done something to hamper his spirit.

“It’s always easier to critique,” you dismissed, “I love the script, it’s great. I really think it’ll be good. Hot. Maybe I can wear a Britneyschool girl costume, or something?”

He frowned a little, pinching the bridge of his nose at the thought.

“No, weird. We’re going for University student, just… a nice pair of jeans or something.”

“Don’t they wear suits where you went, posh boy?” you teased, loving how it riled him up. “I’ll try and dress like a smart person.”

“You are smart, don’t give me that.”

You rolled your eyes, loving how you managed to fluster him, putting the script back on his cluttered desk as you reached for your bag. This was how your meetings always went, a few hours of notes, some teasing, and a hasty retreat once Tom told you the next shoot day you had to attend. You still had a few hours of social media to do for the last video you’d shot together, notes from Tom, and you lamented the sight of the sun setting outside of your shared office. You’d hoped for at least a bit of natural light today.

“I’m serious, you are!” Tom asserted, and you ignored him purposely as you shut down your laptop, preparing to take it home.

“Yeah, I know, whatever. Don’t work too late!”

“Rich coming from you,” he sighed, “it really doesn’t matter if we send that last edit late.”

“It matters to me! I’d quite like to get paid this week, you know?”

Tom sighed. The two of you tried to produce a couple of videos a week – one for Tom’s site and another to sell to a third party. It didn’t leave either of you with much free time, both of you left in the tiny office at all hours as you worked to keep up with demand.

“Very true. But I’d rather you got some sleep, you know I can help if you’re short on money,” he offered, shuffling papers on his own desk.

He was always quick to jump to an offer to help, and you tried to ignore the fondness spreading through your chest at his eagerness to look out for you. That gentle protectiveness which coursed through Tom was enough to make you melt.

He was one in a million, that was for sure.

“I’m fine, Tom. Thank you though, I’ll ask, if, y’know –”

“Do! Any time. Actually…”

Tom cut himself off, typing something into his phone, and your pocket buzzed with a notification.

“Get yourself a nice dinner.”

You checked your phone to see a transfer from Tom. It wasn’t a crazy amount, but too much for just dinner, and you huffed performatively as he grinned at you.

“No! Don’t be ridiculous –”

He barely made more than you, and you were certainly doing perfectly comfortably.

“Royalties are really good this month. That old break-up sex video is trending again, apparently.”

You smothered a smile. It was hate-fucking, as you’d told Tom a hundred times. That was the title. You could still remember the look on his face the day you’d filmed it, his twitchiness, the unknown male actor who had slightly scared both of you with his sheer size as he stepped into the studio. The male star had fucked you like you’d broken his heart, hands on your neck and hips bruising yours as he pounded into you, and you’d be a little alarmed at how little you had needed to act in his domineering presence. He’d been muscular and tall and assertive, almost injuring you with his enthusiasm, and the shoot had ended with you a sweaty mess, struggling to walk, eyes watery.

You had ached from the moment Tom helped you up from the bed, a protective body between you and your costar as you watched the man collect his clothes and his paycheck. The footage had been great, you’d watched Tom edit it, but it had been your first taste of Tom’s protectiveness. The actor had never returned, and Tom had bought a hot water bottle for the office, pressing it into your lap as he brought tea for the pair of you, loathing how you winced as you moved.

He’d taken you out for dinner that night to celebrate a good edit, but you knew the real reason. That neither of you wanted the other to be alone. It had been a lovely evening, a restaurant then a bar, without a break in laughing conversation the entire night. It hadn’t been a date, but if it had been a date, it would’ve been the nicest date you’d ever been on. In those moments, you wondered if Tom was really cut out for the industry. If you were.

As much as Tom hated the film, it was hot. It had propelled your studio into the spotlight, and it paid a significant chunk of your rent.

“Thank you,” you smiled to him, wracking your mind for anything else that needed discussing before you headed home.

Maybe you’d get takeaway. That would be nice.

Tom cleared his throat.

“What are we shooting tomorrow, by the way?”

You looked up at his words, frowning a little at the realisation you hadn’t been given a script yet. It was unlike him, to be so unprepared. Usually everything was organised weeks in advance. With a glance at the shadows under his eyes, you decided not to tease him about it.

“We’re shooting tomorrow?”

“This week… we’ve only got one video. I was just thinking something simple, I haven’t called a costar yet, but we don’t have to if you don’t want to –”

It was your paycheck on the line as much as Tom’s, and you wondered how the hell you’d forgotten.

“Do we have a camera crew?” you frowned.

“No, not yet. I can call though. Or I could just do it myself, if we’re not doing anything too complicated?”

You thought for a moment, leaning against the open doorframe as Tom started to pack up his own desk, nimble fingers tapping across his keyboard.

“Solo?” you suggested, stifling a laugh as Tom blinked and tilted his head to face you.

“I missed that, love?”

“Solo. Like ‘hot female solo’ or something?”

He smiled slightly, closing his laptop lid.

“That’ll do well, I’m sure. Do we need anything costume-wise? Props?”

Toys. He meant toys. You smiled at his refusal to call a spade a damn spade.

“I’m sure we can find everything here. It’ll be nice to do a simple shoot for a change,” you enthused, holding the door for Tom as he moved to turn off the lights, lingering nearby as he locked up the office.

“Yeah. Single-shot, no camera-man either.”

“Cheap,” you sighed, as though it was the sexiest thing in the world.

You did the books, and avoiding having any more costs this month sounded great.

“Yeah,” Tom smiled, falling into step beside you as the two of you left the warehouse studio.

He looked ready to say something else, but changed his mind. For a second the two you stood by the exit, words trapped beneath your closed lips as the early evening air enveloped you.

“Do you need a lift home?” Tom finally offered.

“No. No, I’m good. Thank you.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, yeah. Usual time. Twelve?”

“Perfect.”

He reached an arm out, ready for you to walk into his embrace, and you froze. The moment was over as soon as it started, his arm retracted, and you could only stare. His hand found the curls at the back of his head, scratching there, a blush dusting his cheeks in the harsh fluorescent lights of the car park. You could kick yourself as you watched the bob of his Adam’s apple, the clench of his jaw. He felt awkward. You contemplated hugging him, but the moment had passed. Instead you rocked on your heels for a second, before turning to leave.

“Bye, Tom!”

“‘Night! Look after yourself, don’t forget dinner. I’ll see you – ”

He cut himself off as you walked too far away, and you could have kicked yourself for the sadness in his final syllable. You sighed as your feet fell against the pavement, your whole walk home haunted by the awkward shuffle of Tom’s hands as he went to hug you goodbye.

*

You were surprised by how difficult it was to brush off that awkward memory. As you ordered and ate dinner, you were reminded of Tom with every bite, that he’d snuck aside part of the company’s petty cash budget to give you dinner. That both of you had gone home, separately, to separate empty houses and empty beds.

Had he wanted to go for drinks? Wanted company? You had come to accept a long time ago that the man was your closest friend. He would be the person you called in an emergency, a shoulder to cry on. You liked to think he’d lean on you the same way.

Despite that, you spent limited time together outside of a professional context. You never met up on weekends, or casually called. Of course you didn’t. He made a career out of seeing you naked, watching you fake orgasms for other men. As you readied yourself for the day, you reminded yourself that of course, he would be nice to his only full-time, very lucrative actress. To his business partner.

As you’d queued up the company’s social media posts the night before, you could only think of Tom behind the camera, orchestrating each photo and clip you uploaded.

You couldn’t help the grin which split your face as you walked into the studio, bag flung over your shoulder, overpacked with everything you thought you could possibly need. Tom greeted you, emerging from his office with a smile.

Before you could overthink it, you walked into his arms, giving him very little choice in the matter as you greeted him with a hug. In his surprise you felt his body stiffen, his arms slowly wrapping around you, and you were momentarily gobsmacked by the muscular form he seemed to hide behind those suits.

He was a little more dressed down today, smart black jeans and a button-up white shirt, unruly hair sticking up like it did when he forgot to brush it. He looked better than yesterday, like he’d had a good night’s sleep.

“Good morning,” he chuckled, bemusement clear in his voice.

You pulled back from the hug, a little embarrassed at the affection until you saw the smile stretching across his face, reaching his eyes. Suddenly the previous night, worrying you had inadvertently rejected him, seemed to be erased.

“Morning! What have you got for me?”

The studio space was cleaned, but empty. The camera stood in the corner as Tom lead you further into the room, his office door open to the side of it, and you frowned at the emptiness of the space.

There were tape marks on the floor where sets were usually assembled, conspicuous without the usual hive of activity buzzing around some piece of furniture you would be thrown onto or fucked against. There was nothing.

“I didn’t know what you wanted to do,” Tom was saying, his gentle voice booming in the empty space, “we don’t have a script or anything so… I’ll leave it to you.”

You bit your lip.

It was more freedom than you were used to, less direction, less to build the fantasy where you could forget you were ultimately in a warehouse with just your business partner. It was… nothing. Tom said your name quietly, and you nodded, stepping back to assess the space.

“I’m just thinking,” you reassured him.

Had the studio always been this quiet? You tried to remember a shoot day where it had been this silent, this calm, without the stress of lighting people or cameramen or scripts being thrown around. You could hear every step Tom took as he walked towards the camera, the wheel-mounted tripod creaking as he moved it across the floor, checking batteries and SD cards while you stood in place, your bag still hanging from one shoulder.

Noticing your frozen stance Tom frowned across at you, nothing but gentle concern in his blue eyes and the fine lines around them.

“I was thinking something kind of minimal, maybe cosy?” he offered, “Maybe an armchair? Something like that?”

You thought about it for a moment, crossing to the corner of the room to finally set down your bag.

He was finally getting into ‘director mode’, growing more energetic by the second.

“I’m thinking we just frame it on you, no distraction. Single take, if we can.”

You nodded silently as he crossed to the storage cupboard he’s overeagerly labelled a ‘props department’. It was stacked high with fabric and furniture and lingerie, tubs of various exotic sex toys near the door. Tom stepped straight past them.

There was a mattress in the props room, materials to build a bed, and you pondered on the idea for a moment.

“We could keep it really simple, maybe?” you suggested, “Find a warm background. Or just use white. Try and get one twenty minute shot, or something.”

You reached for lube without thought, collecting the near-empty bottle of body oil beside it too, as you perused the options in front of you.

“Remind me to buy more of that,” Tom mused, sparing a glance to the bottles in your arms before standing beside you to peruse the options.

You nodded silently, your free hand rifling through bagged silicone toys, slightly in a daze as you picked out a few options. There was a slight blush dusted across Tom’s high cheekbones as he turned to see your arms full of dildos. You smiled as it took him a second to find words, and wondered how the hell he’d chosen to start a porn studio in the first place.

“Colour co-ordinated,” he commented, and you smiled, picking out yet another pink toy from the pile.

“Naturally,” you smiled, “I think that’s everything? Could we drag a mattress and pillows out?”

He nodded silently, already moving to manoeuvre the double mattress leaning against a wall in the props room. You rolled your eyes before helping, knowing he was being a gentleman, or whatever he called it. You called it putting his back out.

He rejected your help, so you grabbed as many pillows as you could, following him back into the main studio, privately smiling at the dramatic grunts he made trying to move the mattress. He tossed it to the ground with a grunt, shoving it into the corner of the room, before pausing again.

You dropped everything down on to it, toys, lube, pillows and all.

And then both of you waited.

It was so strangely intimate, just the two of you in the room, the strange nature of your relationship weighing heavy after last night’s miscommunication. Suddenly there was nothing you wanted to do less than take your clothes off.

“White sheets?”

“Hm?” you hadn’t processed what Tom said, too wrapped up in your own world, frowning down at the bare mattress.

“I was thinking white sheets.”

“Oh, uh, yeah.”

He was off, assigned another task, and you almost envied his distraction as you slowly sorted the pillows how you wanted, gathered the toys absentmindedly. Before Tom came back from the props closet you made yourself scarce, catching sight of his slim outline through the doorway. Facing away from you as he rummaged.

In the single bathroom of the studio you cleaned anything that would be going inside of you, avoiding your reflection, trying to shake off the odd nervousness coursing through your veins.

Why? It had been years since you felt this way before a shoot. Before you’d met Tom, even. Sure, shoots could be exciting, exhilarating, intimidating, but this self-consciousness, this self-doubt… it had come from nowhere.

You pressed your forehead to the mirror, closing your eyes, breathing deeply. The tap running sounded like a waterfall, the silicone under your fingers felt alien, the air almost claustrophobic as you wondered what the hell was wrong with you.

Tom was done making the bed when you got back, frowning at his phone until he heard you re-enter the studio space, quick to look up and see if you were happy with his set. You felt hyper-aware of him, of every movement he made, a clean towel and toys cradled in one arm as you took in the space. It was a simple premise, just a clean fitted sheet pillows in a corner, a clear space for you in the middle. You knew it would look good on screen. You knew this was an easy job.

You felt sick to your stomach.

“Do you want to face the camera? Or kind of, not acknowledge it?” Tom asked, speaking again as you forgot to reply, too caught up in your own mind. “Maybe if you ignore it that’s more… voyeuristic?”

“Sounds good,” you responded, kneeling to prepare your space. This was autopilot, your day job. You could do this.

“Right.”

He sounded a little put out by your response, but moved the camera anyway, switching to a knee-height tripod. You stood, stepped back to give him space, and frowning at the sudden headrush. You blinked, catching yourself staring at the flex of his arms as he moved the heavy equipment. You didn’t realise how long you had been staring into space until Tom called your name a second time, crossing into your personal space.

“Are you okay?”

Tom’s voice was so soft you wanted to cry, fingers hovering beside your bicep, his gentle eyes demanding for you to meet them, daring for you to lie while his face is so close to yours.

Somehow, the guilt of his worry made you feel worse.

“No, I’m…I’m being stupid. Sorry, just tired.”

“Did you not sleep well?”

“No, I, uh, I slept fine. I’m not sure. Just not really feeling it.”

His face fell, but you knew he wasn’t disappointed in you. He thought he’d done something wrong. Immediately you were talking, doing anything you could to soften his guilt.

“It’s my job, though. I can do it. This is great Tom, I think it’ll be a good shoot.”

“Sweetheart –”

You sighed, eyes falling to the mattress, before forcing a smile.

“Let’s get this over with!”

He looked like he wanted to argue with you, but you forced yourself to move, pulled your feet from the floor with far more effort than it ought to take. There was some comfort in rummaging through your own bag, that piece of home, something private from the studio. You found the vibrator you’d brought, a pink bullet you used almost exclusively at home, fully charged that morning. Behind you, Tom snorted in amusement.

“Nothing here is ever charged,” you shrugged off his stare, knowing damn well you didn’t have to explain yourself.

You wanted to explain anyway though. Just in case, Tom thought anything he did wasn’t enough. He seemed perfectly fine with the criticism, though you knew he was making a mental note. He always did, then you had something to say.

Trying not to make a big deal out of it, you stripped to your underwear, folding your clothes neatly and being careful not to show any self-consciousness in your posture. You’d never been ashamed or embarrassed before now, and you weren’t about to start. Even if it was just you, and a very well, fully dressed Tom. Vibrator clutched in your fingers, you finally sat on the damn mattress.

He was the other side of the camera now, somehow both distant and a few feet away. You found yourself staring at your body in the monitor, just watching. Tom’s voice broke you out of yet another daze, and you wanted to pinch yourself. Why couldn’t you do it today?

“We don’t have to do this today, if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s okay I just… I forget it’s just us sometimes, you know? There’s such a production and so many people and at the end of the day…”

Tom smiled, a relief on his face that told you he had been feeling it too. That this was weird.

“I know what you mean. If you’re uncomfortable…”

“Just give me a second to warm up, we need to make something, after all.”

You stretched, not really sure why, moving a little around the nook Tom had created, shuffling pillows and practicing where you wanted to lie back, watching a monitor as Tom played with a soft lighting, twisting and turning to find the most flattering angles you could.

As he shuffled things around, Tom nodded to the spread of toys you’d set out. You’d added your vibrator to the pink line up, perfectly organised on the white towel.

“Do you want those in shot?”

You shrugged.

“Might be hot?”

He nodded silently. You moved the toys in to the frame, trying to blink away the cloud which had settled in your mind. The world felt foggy, your arms like they were moving through treacle, and you knew Tom had noticed.

As he prepared two directional microphones, you tried not to feel claustrophobic. The audio from the microphone he was pointing towards your pussy would be almost grotesque, and you fought not to shuffle further from it as you imagined Tom listening later, headphones in, as he balanced the levels between your moans and the wet sounds of you fucking yourself.

Fuck.

Why was this so different to a regular shoot?

You’d done solo shoots before. With Tom. And half-a-dozen other crew, you reminded yourself.

You caught sight of his curls above the monitor, face serious as he set everything up.

“Speak?”

“Testing, testing,” you spouted off nonsense until he offered you a thumbs up, happy with the audio.

Then there was nothing else to do.

He stood, looming over the equipment. And you looming over you.

“What’s the plan?” he asked, smiling at your frown. “You’re in charge here, I’m just the camera guy.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing he was trying to put you at ease.

“You’re the director,” you reminded him, knowing how he preened himself under the title.

You were impressed that his eyes had only roamed down your body once as he took in the shoot, glancing at the indulgent layout of toys, double checking the monitor, one headphone in. He had that stance he always adopted when he was directing, and you knew it was his favourite moment in any of this. The moment everything was pinned on him.

It happened so quickly you almost missed the moment he knelt down, blinking in surprise as his face remerged at your level beside the camera.

“Then my direction is: enjoy yourself. Forget I’m here. Let’s show them something real.”

He must have seen your shock, because it made him smile.

“Real?” you questioned, and he nodded firmly.

“I’m serious.”

For a beat, both of you were silent, his eyes meeting yours over the body of the camera.

“If you can,” he offered, “I understand it’s not always…”

You interrupted him with a hand, smiling your understanding of what he was saying, and dismissing it in one motion. The silence dragged on, and you decided to push this forwards. If you were done by lunch, Tom would probably insist on taking you somewhere nice.

“I don’t know if I should use – ” you ghosted a finger across the biggest toy, worrying a bottom lip between your teeth, “Simplicity might be key.”

“Do what you want, darling. What feels good.”

You nodded mutely, and for just a second you saw doubt flicker across his face. This was new territory, and even you weren’t sure if this was a step too far.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah. If I’m… actually… it might take a while. Let me know if I’m taking too long.”

“Take as long as you need, darling. I’ve got nowhere to be.”

Tilting your head at him a little, you realised abruptly just how intimate this was. Moreover, that you wanted it anyway. That you were about to make him watch you cum. Make him hear you, smell you. He couldn’t touch, but he could watch.

And that was enough for you to perform.

Tom gave you a countdown, red lights peppered your field of view, and he was recording. He had taken a seat on the floor behind the camera set up, one headphone in to monitor audio, waiting.

You stayed sat up, back arched a little as your hands began to caress you own body, keeping on eye on the monitor while your face was out of the shot. You rubbed along your thighs, across your stomach, teasing at the lace of your bra and the elastic of your underwear each time you passed them, trailing your fingertips. It didn’t really feel like anything, doing this to yourself, but you knew to tease the camera. Tom would cut out anything too slow.

Your gaze remained firmly on the screen as you began to make your touches firmer, more deliberate, dragging lines into your skin and flirting with the camera. You admired the soft skin of your breasts as you started to shift your bra, enjoying the stiffening of your nipples in the monitor until –

The screen went black, and you immediately glanced at Tom, frowning as you lost the visual of yourself. He met your questioning gaze sternly, eyebrows furrowed, and you remembered his direction.

“Enjoy yourself.”

With nothing left to look at you closed your eyes, feeling the blood rushing to the surface of your skin, the sensitivity of your breasts as your fingers idly danced across them. You shoved your bra down unthinkingly, wanting to feel more, rubbing at the heaviness of your breasts and wincing as you enjoyed the pleasure and pain of pinching at your nipples, teasing them to attention. You glanced your nails across them, feeling it in your core. You didn’t want to wait anymore. Fuck the cameras.

It was hard to let to, to stop the delicious feeling of your fingers on your own breasts, but you forced yourself to free one hand, shoving off the bra, desperate to feel yourself without it. You knew you were grimacing, it wouldn’t be sexy, but you didn’t care. That was Tom’s problem.

You needed to touch yourself.

One hand reached below the waistband of your underwear, seeking out your clit, guided by a familiar ache. It was all you could focus on, your other hand forgotten, cupping your breast, the sensation vague and lost as your fingers found your clit. The sensation overwhelmed you as you shifted the hood, your body beginning to produce wetness. The room was a little cold, the air relieving against the heat of your bare skin, making your nipples peak as you leant back into the nest of pillows behind you.

You felt your stomach tense, a bolt of electricity tensing the muscles up and down your body as you brushed across your clit a little too hard. Your middle finger probed your pussy experimentally, slipping inside of you, quickly joined by a second as you played with the wetness there.

One, two, three pumps of your fingers inside you was enough for you to gasp, your eyes still closed against the bright lights as focused on nothing but feeling. No more fucking around.

You reached for your vibrator, hand knocking against the thick silicone toy lined up beside it, writhing as you pressed it against the fabric covering your clit. You cycled through the settings as fast as you could, still desperate for more stimulation.

More. It was on the highest setting. You wanted more.

Without moving the vibrator you shoved your underwear off, huffing as you kicked them away, not caring where they landed. The tip of the toy nudged against your clit exquisitely, and you froze.

There.

There.

You thought about Tom watching you. The hot blood coursing through your body, the line up of toys just waiting to be shoved inside of you. The sensitivity of you clit as you held it against that perfect point. The air against your dripping, aching pussy. The muscles starting to clench, the rhythm of your body. Building, building, you didn’t fight the feeling.

This was what you wanted.

That warm familiarity of the vibrator on your clit, the runaway train of your thoughts, it was enough to drive you over the edge. You hadn’t realised the keening, groaning noises you were making until you heard them, pleasure leaving your lips as an afterthought.

You felt empty.

Blindly you reached out, sticky fingers finding the shaft of a toy you wanted, a smaller one you could take right now. A dollop of lube in the palm of your hand was all it would take, a few pumps of the toy enough to coat it, the excess lubricant smeared on the sheets. You didn’t care. Not your problem.

Without conscious thought, you were still rubbing yourself, two fingers absently making circles against your clit as you fidgeted to be able to take the dildo. You didn’t bother preparing yourself anymore. You were wet enough, and you wanted the stretch.

Needed it.

Needed to feel full.

You shoved the toy into yourself, gritted teeth and your spare hand grasping at your breast, giving the nipple a sharp pinch to interrupt the overwhelming feeling of that silicone pushing inside of you. Your walls were stretched open, a gasp reaching your ears as you felt a nudge against your cervix.

It wasn’t enough. You felt wild, desperate, as you sloppily pulled the toy from yourself and shoved it back in, clenching down and still needing more.

Your fingers found a larger toy, arousal and lubricant smearing across your body as you discarded the dildo which you had just been fucking yourself with, leaving it somewhere on the mattress, forgotten in favour of the bigger option. It was thick. Maybe, in your right mind, you wouldn’t have considered it. But instead you coated it in lube, squirting the clear liquid on to the tip and rubbing it down the toy, focusing on nothing but the need pulsing through your pelvis.

On the emptiness inside you, begging, pleading to be filled. It hurt, how much you wanted to be stretched out, to feel something pounding into you. You felt animalistic, desperate for anything. The last of your conscious thought was occupied by the need in your clit, the demand for friction, and you just didn’t have enough hands. It was impossible to think. When you finally sank down on the fake cock, leaning back, legs apart, gaze focused on nothing but your own swollen pussy, it was a relief. You gasped, then sighed, pushing another inch of the toy inside you. You felt stretched already, split in half, but you kept going. With each thrust, you took the silicone further inside of you until you felt the dull ache of the toy going too far.

Finally, that emptiness felt sated, and you stayed still, too stuffed to risk moving and too blissed out to care.

But you needed more.

Each bear down made the toy threaten to shift, and you didn’t have the brain power to thrust and pay attention to your aching clit. You moved gingerly, grabbing a pillow to straddle, holding the toy inside you as you hunted for your vibrator.

You couldn’t even lean too far to reach it, you were so full it ached. And it was delicious.

With the smooth plastic finally in your hand you leant back, ready to bring yourself to another orgasm. With a blink, you realised there was a tear tracking its way down your cheek, and you smiled to yourself.

And then you accidentally looked forwards. Your eyes met Tom’s. The camera. The lights. The switched off monitor.

You wanted to cry.

He was watching you directly, with those sharp blue eyes, one finger resting along his jawline, his usual calculating, wide stance replaced with one knee hugged to his chest as he sat on the concrete floor. He was watching you.

You. Stuffed full, straddling a pillow on the bed Tom had fucking made, covered in a mix of lube and your own arousal. That strange feeling from earlier came back full force.

God. He had seen you actually come. Without acting or cheesy lines or clever angles to hide the worst of your O-face. You could pretend to come, tell your male co-stars what a good time you’d had, follow direction, anything. But this was too real. And it was just you and Tom. In the corner of a huge studio, bright lights and cameras and –

Had he called cut? You wouldn’t have heard. Did he realise you’d lost control? That you had forgotten you were supposed to be acting and been so desperate and –

“You’re doing amazing.”

You smiled at him weakly, gasping as the toy inside you nudged your cervix as you fidgeted. You didn’t realise that you were awaiting direction until he spoke.

“Another one?”

His voice was a little throatier than usual, though you supposed he’d been quiet for a while. His eyes kept drifting from your face, and you wondered if he felt as uncomfortable as you did.

You nodded silently, closing your eyes, listening to the increasing pitch of the vibrator as you turned it up to its maximum setting.

The minutes stretched on as your orgasm built, little raises and falls of your hips accompanying that insistent buzz of your favourite vibrator, the toy inside you starting to ache as it stretched you apart. It was impossible to forget that Tom was watching you now. That his piercing gaze was on you. As a matter of professionalism, you tried to avoid looking up. You ignored the camera, fucked your body in the way you knew it would respond to, only half-faking it as you came a second time.

You moaned and groaned and gave the camera an indulgent few seconds of overstimulation, the vibrator pushed against your clit to make you writhe and shake. You pulled yourself off the dildo in a mess of arousal, played with yourself, showing off how stretched out you were.

Fingers swirling in the arousal inside of you, you sighed in relief when Tom called, “cut.”

Dropping the toy, you pulled your legs together, ignoring him for a second as you took deep breaths. Taking stock of your body, the residual pleasure and pain and stickiness. A lot of stickiness.

Tom took pity on you, shifting a softbox so you had a clear path out of the corner you were hemmed into.

“Go and have a shower,” he told you, the most softly-spoken command you’d ever heard.

Nonetheless, you followed orders. On weak legs, you indulged in as long as shower as you dared, cleaning up and then just… waiting. Trying to avoid the real world. When you finally opened the door, wrapped in a robe, you found your clothes folded outside. Tom was nowhere to be seen, but you thanked the universe for him anyway.

When you re-emerged you were fully dressed and feeling a lot more like yourself again. And, actually, quite proud of yourself. Tom’s busyness told you everything had been recorded properly, equipment moved and the mattress bare, leant against the wall.

“All good?” you asked, more to announce your presence than anything. He stopped moving, offering you a gentle smile.

“Perfect! I think it’ll be great. Do you want to go get lunch somewhere? To celebrate?”

Predictable as anything. The thought made your heart swell with fondness for him, his head tilt and excitement, his strange place here.

“I think I’ll just go home,” you tried to smile apologetically, but you could still feel the ache inside you, the dull oversensitivity of your clit against your underwear.

The embarrassment and excitement fighting in the fit of your stomach.

Tom nodded, clear understanding on his face. He held the door for you on the way out.

“Are you coming in tomorrow?” he asked, quietly, like you might run off if he asked.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll see you then.”

*

Your bedroom fell silent as the vibrator stopped, the battery finally flat. You whined in disappointment, desperate for another orgasm. Your fingers replaced it instantly, rubbing, desperately pulling more wetness from the arousal weeping from you, but you were too oversensitive.

Panting, vision blurry, your thighs aching, you blinked away tears. You glanced at the nightstand. Tom hadn’t text you.

*

When you woke up the next morning your phone was dead. You’d forgotten to charge it last night, and leaving it in your room to charge offered a strangely peaceful morning. You had a few hours before you would be expected at the studio, and no work to do before then.

You indulged in spending time getting ready for the day, making a decent breakfast, doing a few chores you’d been putting off.

Processing what had happened yesterday.

In the clear light of day, you wondered if you ought to be embarrassed for the way you’d completely lost yourself at the shoot. The more you thought about it, the more you thought about it, the more you rationalised at you’d just followed Tom’s direction. Done what he’d asked. It had been intense, for sure, but you’d done what he’d asked. If anything you regretted the moment he’d had to speak, losing your nerve. You hoped he didn’t want pick-up shots today, you weren’t sure your body could take any more.

You thought about the night before, clearing up the scattered clothes and charging the vibrator you’d left strewn beside your bed, more ashamed of the images which had been conjured by your overactive imagination in the late-night privacy of your bedroom. You hated that everything you imagined was involved blue eyes. Distinctive curls. Pulling buttons from smart shirts and kissing along sharp cheekbones. Poor Tom. He didn’t need you overstepping that mark. And yet when you had closed your eyes, imagined you were under those lights again, all you could imagine was Tom. His creative gaze. Listening to the smoothness his voice leant to everything he said as he instructed you even more intimately than usual.

As you switched your phone back on, you forced the thoughts from your mind. They couldn’t follow you to the studio. The two of you had built something good. Something successful. The studio was doing well, you were both saving money away for the future, building your brands. You couldn’t screw that up now by imagining him like that. He trusted you. You trusted each other. Relied on one another.

You wondered if he ever fucked other actresses.

[mfingenius]

Hey! I absolutely love your writing and was wondering if you could something with Damen constantly talking about Laurent where he works and Laurent sounding too good to be true so none of his coworkers believe him (or the roles reversed)?

The thing is, Damen isn’t crazy. 

At least, Nikandros thinks he isn’t; they’ve been best friends for over twenty years, and he knows Damen is usually a very realistic person, if naive and optimistic. Apart from that, Damen has no trouble getting people into bed. He’s never wanted a serious relationship, and he’s always enjoyed sleeping around, and it’s never really been a secret. 

Which is why Nik doesn’t understand why he’s making Laurent up.

From other people, people who can’t get a date, he gets it, but from Damen?

And what’s even worse, Damen is refusing to even tell him that Laurent is made up! Nikandros has always been in on his lies before, however few of them, so this is an entirely unprecedented situation, and he doesn’t know how to deal with it.

“So,” he asks, carefully. “How’s Laurent?” 

Damen smiles blindingly up at him. “Good. He just got a promotion at work.”

“Right,” Nik says dubiously. He clears his throat. “And, uh. Where is he?”

He’d come over to Damen’s in an attempt to finally get this to stop; after Damen had told him they’d moved in together, he knew this had gone too far.

“He went back to Vere for a couple days,” Damen says sadly, eyes flicking back to the TV where they’re watching a football game. “To visit his brother.”

“Oh,” Nik says. “Right.”

He wonders if it’s time to talk to a psychiatrist.

*

“You don’t bite your pens,” Nik says with a frown, when he takes one from Damen’s coffee table to sign one of their work documents. 

“What?” Damen asks, looking over. “Oh. No. Laurent bites things when he’s nervous.”

Nik squints at him. “Right.”

*

“What the fuck, Damen?” Kastor asks, when Damen takes off his shirt; Nik and Damen go to the gym together regularly, and, sometimes, Kastor joins. Nik turns around to look at what he’s looking, and catches sight of telling scratch-marks down his friend’s back. “Who did this?”

Damen grins sheepishly. “Oh. Laurent. He has sharp nails.”

Nik is beginning to think Laurent is not made up, but a very hostile cat. 

"Right,” he says. 

*

“He’s making Laurent up, right?” Lazar asks, squinting; they’re all huddled outside of Damen’s office, watching as he talks to ‘Laurent’ on the phone, grinning so widely his dimple’s showing. “There’s no way this guy is real.”

He just can’t be; from what Damen’s told them, Laurent just keeps sounding less and less like a real person; apart from the fact that he seems to be taken straight out of Damen’s every fantasy and dream, he just cannot be real; he’s too much of a contradiction, too many unanswered questions, a person like that simply does not exist.

“We all think so,” Pallas agrees. “But why would he do that? He’s never done that before.”

“He’s stopped sleeping around.” Nik says, because that’s the weirdest part of this. “I think this might be a serious problem.”

“Someone has to ask him,” Pallas says.

“We can’t just tell him,” Aktis says. “Let’s invite him and Laurent over. When he doesn’t show, we can try to talk to him about it.”

Nikandros nods.

*

Laurent, evidently, doesn’t show; Damen tells them he had a migraine, and then begins babbling about how kind and great and gorgeous his boyfriend is, so no one really has the heart to tell him he’s making it up. 

So they don’t.

They just go along with it, and continue inviting him and Laurent to things, to which Laurent never shows.

Until he does.

*

“I’m sorry I’m late.” The blonde doesn’t have a single drop on him, despite it being pouring outside. “I couldn’t get out of work.”

“They need you there,” Damen smiles widely up at him, and gladly accepts a kiss on the lips; Nik’s, Pallas’s, Lazar’s, and Aktis’s mouths are hanging open. “Guys, this is Laurent, Laurent, these are - why are you all staring like that?”

Nik can’t bring himself to close his mouth.

“You’re Laurent?” he asks, strangled. 

“Yes?” Laurent raises a perfectly manicured eyebrow, and Nikandros doesn’t know how, but he already fits Damen’s contrite description so well he cannot possibly be a hired actor.

“You exist?” Lazar asks.

Damen frowns at them. “Why wouldn’t he?”

“We - we thought you were making him up!” Pallas exclaims. “You - it was all too suspicious!”

“Suspicious?” Laurent asks.

“Yes!” Nik says defensively. “You never showed up to anything, you’re literally taken out of Damen’s dreams, and you’re - you don’t seem real.”

Laurent’s other eyebrow raises. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” Before Nik can say otherwise, Laurent continues calmly. “I never showed up to anything because I’m Vere’s ambassador in Ios and my work is crazy, I assure you I’m not literally taken out of Damen’s dreams, and I am real.”

“Also, there are pictures of him all over my desk.” Damen points out coolly.

“What?” they all ask.

“You have some very poor observational skills for a private security company,” Laurent remarks mildly, and Nik can only stare blankly.

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

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[gruviafan-forever]

A/N: Hello everyone, Happy Gruvia Week to you. I didn't expect that I would be writing contents for this year's event too. But I'm really happy to be writing stories about my favourite anime couples.

   Hopefully, everyone likes it. This year the prompts were very similar to previous years. It had me in fix how to write content without making it a repetitive fashion.

   Finally got an idea and tried to merge all those 7 prompts into a storyline. Hopefully, it convinces you all.

   Thank you for reading and spending your time here.

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

Main Pairing: GRUVIA

Summary:- Celebrity Gray x General Public Juvia, Modern AU

Words:- 2K

Currently, Fairy Tail Agency has arranged for a press meet to officially declare the facts of the new movie in which two of their most famous actors are going to be a part.

Gray Fullbuster, 25 years, tv artist turned actor and Lucy Heartfilia, 24 years, model turned actress, has signed up for this movie which is under the production of Straussl Inc.

As the reporters who out various questions regarding the details of this upcoming venture and some related to their personal life.

"So, Mr Fullbuster, tell us about how you feel knowing that you have been nominated for 3 categories of awards this year?" 

One of the reporters asked and was ready to note Gray's response.

"I'm sure that I will receive the awards for best actor and handsome face. Also, my last movie 'Icy Days' has been nominated for the best movie of the year. But not sure about the 'Gem of the decade' award." 

Gray confidently answered and smiled which made the female reporters squeal.

Lucy interrupted, "Not to ruin Gray's fantasy but my movie 'Starry Night At Stella' was a blockbuster hit. Myself and my co-actor Natsu Dragneel were praised by critics for our performance. So, Gray, don't forget that even we are on the race too." Lucy smiled which made everyone chuckle after hearing her opinions.

"Sure Lucy... All the best to you and Natsu" Gray told and looked at his manager, Erza Scarlet, who also happens to be Natsu's manager, to know when this press meet is going to end.

"Another 10 minutes" Erza gestured by hand signals. 

Suddenly, one of the reporters from Magnolia Times shot down a question that took Gray off guard.

"Recently, there was a photo of Mr Fullbuster with a child in his arms. Who does that child happen to be? And is it true that you are having an illicit affair with someone, Mr Fullbuster?" That reporter smirked. 

Gray remained indifferent and calmly answered him while his team members and staff panicked.

"Everyone in Fiore knows that it was a piece of fake news. In today's era of modern technology, it is easy to photoshop one's picture with anything and anyone, Mr Invel.

    Even my agency owner, Mr Makarov Dreyer and my manager, Ms Scarlet have clarified about it. So, don't go digging the old hoax rumours." 

Gray stood up and thanked everyone for their time and presence before dashing off to the exit where Lucy followed him back.

It was Erza and the production team who bid a farewell to the reporters before joining the actors in their cabin.

Once Erza reached Gray's cabin, she saw him tossing his coat and tie around the room while Lucy stood silently.

"Gray, I think you should disclose your relationship before it gets exposed in a bad way," Erza said calmly and patted his back.

"That's what I was thinking, Erza. I can't continue to hide this big news about my life for a long time from my fans. I will reveal this during the awards function." Gray looked determined and hoped that his fans would take it on a positive note.

"They will surely accept your relationship status just like how they received mine and Natsu's." Lucy encouraged him and patted his arms which seemed to make him calm down.

"Gray, tomorrow you have your day off then, on Wednesday, we will be going to Phoenix Mall for a fan meet up event where other actors of our agency will join us." Erza informed him and handed the invitation.

From the invitation, it was clear that this mall was quite near to his apartment complex. Moreover, it was arranged by Mr Makarov himself so there was no way of turning it down.

"Fine, I will get ready for this. Just send the car near the children's park no need to come in front of the complex." He informed Erza and thanked them both for their words of motive before he left them.

After half an hour, Gray reached the children's park and put on his disguise, cooling glass, mask and a cap to conceal his identity while he was dressed up in a simple t-shirt and jeans.

"Max, tomorrow's your day off. Pick me up here at 9 am on Wednesday. Bye."

"Yes, Mr Fullbuster. Bye, and Good night" The driver left him while Gray made his way towards his home.

The apartment complex in which he lived was one of the expensive housing in Magnolia. The higher the floor level, the higher is the cost and the higher is the security.

Till the 11th floor, the general public who did high order jobs lived while the next 10 floors were occupied by celebrities of various fields.

One of the perks of this housing agency was that their identity remains secret, not even their neighbours know about them until and unless the involved party discloses it.

Once Gray reached the 17th floor, which had two apartments where one was still vacant.

As he hit the doorbell of his apartment, Gray could hear voices coming from inside which brought a smile on his face.

The door opened and his eyes met the gorgeous lady who welcomed him with a beautiful smile that captivated him.

"Welcome home, Gray-sama"

"I'm home, Juvia," Gray said and got inside.

Soon, he removed the disguise and leaned forward to kiss her lips which she reciprocated back.

Once they broke off the kiss, Juvia hugged him and whispered, "I missed you, Gray-sama."

"Even, I missed you, Juvia. It's been a week since I last saw you and…." Before he could finish, both of them felt someone hugging their legs.

And it was none their 3-year-old daughter, Yuki Fullbuster, who resembled her mother but had father's hair and eye colour and his sharp nose.

"Papa"

Seeing his daughter's smile was enough for him to get distracted from his wife, then, have his undivided attention on his little munchkin.

Gray raised Yuki in his arms and kissed her cheeks and forehead who did the same to her papa.

"Yuki missed you, papa."

"Even, papa missed you, darling. Were you a good girl during papa's absence?" Gray asked her as they moved towards the living room.

Gray let her down who ran up to a table and tried to fetch her drawing notebook.

Juvia made her husband sit down and inquired him about his work as he looked tired and kinda depressed.

Gray convinced her everything was fine and told her about the press meet excluding the details of the rumours.

#

It had been 4 years since Gray started his acting career starting as an ad shoot model to tv artists then to movie star.

Gray, Natsu and Erza were childhood friends who did their schooling from the same institution till college.

It was during the 3rd year, Gray and Natsu got scouted to act as models for a tv commercial which they accepted readily as of then they needed some kind of part-time jobs to meet their ends.

Even, Erza thought that it was a good opportunity for them to succeed as the agency, Fairy Tail, was well known throughout Fiore and persuaded them to take up the offer.

Once, their commercials began to reach people mainly because of their handsome features and physique especially Gray got popular among the female fans.

It was during this time that Gray and Natsu had to move out of the college dorm so that they could work freely without time restrictions.

That's when Gray meets Juvia for the first time in his life. She was his neighbour whom he thought lived her boyfriend but it turned out to be her best friend, Gajeel Redfox, vocalist of Phantom Bands, an upcoming band.

Gray rarely started any kind of conversation with anyone. It was with the help of Natsu that they befriended Juvia and to date, Gray was thankful to his friend.

Until the moment he met Juvia, Gray was never keen on love or relationships. 

But to him, Juvia was way different from the girls he had met in his college. She was modest and shy but a kind person with a large helping tendency.

Gray knew her personality and beauty had beguiled his attention and wanting to know more about her made him fall for her head over heels.

Of course, they would exchange greetings whenever they met while leaving the house together. Slowly they deepened their connection and exchanged numbers.

Due to her friendly nature, Juvia would invite Gray and Natsu over to her place for small weekend parties which she would arrange for Gajeel to relieve his stress.

At first, he was reluctant to invade a party meant for Gajeel but the latter happily welcomed them.

That way, they got acquainted exchanged their work details and stress with each other.

It was after a few months of that weekend party that Gray had offered Juvia a dinner date which she accepted after a week of thinking.

By this time, Gray gained quite a lot of recognition. The reason he called her out on a dinner date was to reveal that he has signed up as the main lead for a tv drama which was produced by a well-known production house.

Juvia was elated and congratulated and wished him luck. It was during that time Gray confessed his love for her and waited for her answer.

To his surprise, Juvia readily accepted him. He still remembers her words from that time,

"Gray-sama, even I feel the same for you. I was afraid to convey my feelings to you as each day our world was getting apart. I was determined to tell you today after dinner.

     But to my surprise, I never expected even you would feel the same. I love you, Gray-sama."

After hearing her say those golden words, Gray got hold of her hand and kissed it lightly and asked Juvia to be his girlfriend which she agreed.

Once they reached their respective place, Gray kissed her lips and shared a hug before calling off that night.

The next day, both of them informed their friends about their relationship. Erza and Natsu were supportive.

But Gajeel was reluctant he wanted to tell Juvia how difficult it would be for her to date a celebrity.

She has to remain under the shadows. Moreover, if words go out then obsessive fans might harm her and she would be constantly under paparazzi's scrutiny if Gray's facing bad times.

But Juvia was ready to face any difficulties and wanted to support her boyfriend in his career.

#

Once the family had their dinner together, Gray tugged his daughter in her bed before planting a kiss on her forehead and wished her good night.

Juvia was washing the dishes when Gray snaked his arms around her waist and kissed her neck which made Juvia squeak.

Gray turned off the tap and turned his wife so that she could face him.

"Juvia, tomorrow's my day off. Even the night is still young. Moreover, I missed my wife…" He leaned forward and kissed her lips which made her moan against his lips.

"Gray-sama…."

"Juvia…." Both of their eyes were clouded with lust and decided to continue their passionate night inside their bedroom.

After an hour, both was them were under the blankets, Gray had his arm around his wife and hummed in her ears as she talked about her day with Yuki.

Juvia could sense her husband's hold around her waist getting tight. He did only when he felt insecure or paranoid.

Juvia turned around to face him who kept looking at her. She cupped his face with both of her hands which startled him.

"Gray-sama, what's on your mind? Spill it out. Don't go huddling up those stressful thoughts within you. Share it with your wife. I will help you lessen those burdens." Juvia conveyed her thoughts and smiled at him.

"This is what I'm beguiled about you, Juvia. You can easily find out my conflicting thoughts just by sensing my actions. I'm really lucky to have you as my soulmate, dear." Gray said earnestly and kissed her forehead which made Juvia feel special.

Then slowly Gray disclosed his fears about how the world will perceive his relationship and worried that this shouldn't cause any harm to either Juvia and Yuki especially.

After hearing his fears, Juvia cradled her husband and patted his back just like how she does it for her daughter whenever she has nightmares.

Gray seemed to relax from this action. Juvia assured him that nothing terrible is going to happen and just hope everything turns out well.

Suddenly Gray raised his head and questioned her, "What if things repeat? And this time to our Yuki."

Juvia's eyes grew wide, but she can't show her fear, at least, not in front of her husband for now, who himself was feeling paranoid.

"I'm sure nothing will happen. Let's have faith in ourselves and your fans, Gray-sama.

       I'm just worried that your fan number might get reduced once you reveal your married status." Juvia voiced her concern.

This time it was Gray's turn to convince her, "Nah! Just like you said let's hope for the best. I love you and Yuki. Remember that, okay"

Gray smiled and kissed her lips, "Juvia, you are still warm. Wanna continue from where we left?" He teased her.

It seemed her Gray-sama was back to normal for now.

A/N: Sorry for posting it bit late. Hope I will be able to update for the rest of the event.

[according-to-the-laura]

StackedNatural Day 170: 2x20, 13x21

StackedNatural Masterpost: [x]

May 3, 2022

2x20: What Is and What Should Never Be

Written by: Raelle Tucker

Directed by: Eric Kripke

Original air date: May 3, 2007

Plot Synopsis:

Dean is attacked by a Djinn and finds himself in a new reality where his mother is still alive and a mysterious woman holds the key to everything.

Features:

Dean’s djinn dream, Dean’s first hug with his mom since he was four years old, Dean mowing the lawn, El Sol beer, Mary’s birthday, random creepy women following Dean around, the skeletons in Dean’s closet, John Winchester’s grave, a silver knife dipped in lamb’s blood, what’s real and what’s not, what happens when you die in a dream.

My Thoughts:

Boy oh boy this is a classic Deangirl episode. 

This fantasy world is based on his own mind and his deepest dream. All he really wants is stability, his mom to be alive, and to mow the lawn. And despite the fact that this world is supposed to be good enough to trap him there for what would amount to years in the dream, it’s seriously flawed. He and Sam aren’t friends, he’s kind of a deadbeat. Deep down, he doesn’t believe he’s capable or deserving of happiness. Even if he did get to be happy, that comes at the direct cost of the people that he could save if he sucked it up and was miserable for his whole life. Important to note that this is explicitly something his father taught him. 

I love this episode. I wish they had remembered it when they were writing the finale and Dean’s ““happy”” ending. I wish he had had stability, and the chance for a family, and a goddamn lawn of his own to mow. It is literally season 2 and he is already projecting his real wants and needs so strongly. And after all this, fighting to get back to Sam, Sam is going to die in the next episode. Absolutely brutal, and great writing on season 2’s part.

Other honourable mentions to this episode: El Sol Beer’s introduction. The colour transition when Dean kills himself in the dream kicks so much ass, and it’s what I’ve been picturing when I write the secret good supernatural that lives in my head, specifically the end of season 14 when Chuck is revealed as the big bad. 

Notable Lines:

“‘Your happiness for all those people's lives, no contest.’ Right? But why? Why is it my job to save these people? Why do I have to be some kind of hero?”

“I'm sorry that we don't get along. And I wish to hell I could stay and fix it. But I gotta do this. People’s lives depend on it.”

“ You're not real. None of it is.” “It doesn't matter. It's still better than anything you had. It's everything you want. We're a family again.”

“Why is it our job to save everyone? Haven’t we done enough?”

“I wanted to stay so bad. I mean, ever since Dad... all I can think about is how much this job's cost us.”

Laura’s (completely subjective) Episode Rating: 9.9

IMdB Rating: 9.4

13x21: Beat the Devil

Written by: Robert Berens

Directed by: Phil Sgriccia

Original air date: May 3, 2018

Plot Synopsis:

Sam, Dean, Castiel and Gabriel must work together if they have any hope of bringing Mary and Jack home. Meanwhile, Rowena's encounter with Lucifer may alter the outcome of the journey for one of our heroes.

Features:

Family pizza night in Sam’s dream, Gabriel and Rowena hooking up, Lucifer sulking in Gabriel’s trap, Lucifer as an inter-dimensional doors stop, Maggie’s intro, feral monsters, Lucifer getting punted into Apocalypse World, the tunnel to Dayton, Sam getting brutally killed by vampires and then resurrected, reuniting with Mary and Jack 

My Thoughts:

It’s a really violent tonal shift of an episode, huh? We’re going from Gabriel and Rowena hooking up in the library to Sam being resurrected into his literal worst nightmare?

The Gabriel and Rowena scene is so terrible for me because the totally unnecessary voice over gives me intense secondhand embarrassment for which I will NEVER forgive Robert Berens. And this is a minor complaint maybe, but I think it shows a lack of faith in the actors to show what they’re thinking. Gabriel/Rowena is an insane concept to culminate the weird Sabriel-bait they’ve been giving us for the last few episodes of season 13, and thus it is the funniest possible thing to have written, but it does seem jarring in the context of the rest of the episode. 

I guess jarring was the theme for this one, because the same thing happens with Lucifer being the most annoying thing on the planet before busting out and almost killing Rowena. She could have gagged him, but I guess that would have made the plot impossible, so I’ll give it a pass. 

The best part of the episode is Sam’s death and subsequent resurrection - Jensen’s acting is great when he’s dying and great when he finally finds Mary. When he’s resurrected we get a little exploration of his trauma from Lucifer and Hell, and I do enjoy that a lot.

Notable Lines:

“Your wee boy's over there, and he'll be so glad to see his three fathers. Of course, as far as he's concerned, they are his father. And you? You're nothing to him.”

Laura’s (completely subjective) Episode Rating: 8.4

IMdB Rating: 8.9

In Conclusion: It’s a cool Stacked note that we have Dean trapped in a dream with his happy family in 2x20 and Sam waking up from a dream with his happy family in 13x21. 

<< Previous Day  |  Next Day >>

[mysmegrace]

Hi! I’d love a short fic of Zen with a shy yet bubbly MC in a Christmas Fake Dating scenario <33 Hopefully with some anxious pining and a love confession at the end if that’s okay! I’ve been musing over this sweet scenario for a pretty long time and wanted to make my small dream come true

hey hey hey~ (ew im sounding like my old math teacher lol). i'd love to write that for you! sorry this came out a little late, i've been offline and working on other things. i hope i did this justice! 

summary: GD entertainment, the company zen works with, is throwing a christmas party. giving many of the actors special benefits, one of which is a free 2021 computer model for people who had brought in their significant others. zen could really use the upgrade, hence why he asked you to pretend to be his girlfriend for the night. he also asked you because he had feelings for you and figured that tonight would be the perfect night.

topics: christmas time, pretending to date, love confessions, romantic pinning, fluff.

words: 2k

For the Night, Or a Lifetime - Zen x MC

---

"are you sure this is alright to do zen..? i mean, what if rumors start to spread or they think badly of us?" you responded briskly. you were worried this would take a hit to his career, not to mention your anxious thoughts building up around the fact that you may have to speak with his boss and co-workers.

when zen had initially showed up 15 minutes prior, you were dumbfounded. last time you had spoke to him on the messenger, he had told you about some work he needed to finish up. yet an hour later, he was at your front door asking for you to act as his girlfriend tomorrow for the companies christmas party.once he had explained why to clear up your confusion, you weren't sure how to react. of course you would like to help him, but what if things didn't go as planned? what if you ended up ruining the night? you weren't secure in your acting abilities either.

"it'd be fine, i promise. we'll just act like a normal couple throughout the night and no one will suspect a thing" you heard him say, breaking your train of thought. looking up to meet his gaze, you quickly broke eye contact to contemplate your next action.

you knew zen could use the new computer, you’ve seen how old his current one was. but the fear of denting his career wouldn’t go away. you look up to meet him again, looking for a sign of reassurance or dismay. 

god those puppy eyes you gave to you. how could you say no? giving it another minutes, you eventually give in, saying “alright, but if something starts to happen we have to come clean”.

a breath he was unaware of holding came free as he heard your confirmation. a weight had been lifted off his shoulders because unbeknownst to you, he was planning to come clean about his feelings for you tomorrow night. so far, the plan was going just the way he was hoping for. 

“thank you babe, i’ll repay you back for this one day!” he said, giving his gratitude. “i’ll call when i come to pick you up” he adds, before turning to leave. it had already gotten late and he knew better than to stay with you for any longer while the moon was tempting him. no, that stuff would have to wait until the time was right.

watching as he left, the click of the door confirming it, your mind had completely gone blank on you. did that really just happen, you thought. you could hardly contain your excitement once he proposed the plan.

but you knew how the industry and his fans were. sure many were great, but many also say zen as a trophy they could reserve to themselves. a romantic partner could damage his career as allegations and opinions started floating around.

at the same time, it was difficult to hide. you had felt something for him that was so unfamiliar to you. something you could only identify as love. but what if he didn’t feel this same? what if...

enough, you told yourself. it was too late to get emotional and curious about what might happen. perhaps it would be better to rest and let your mind heal it’s anxiety for the time being. so that you did, drifting off while fantasying about the future, though you would never admit that.

a knock at the door caught your attention, allowing you to briefly look up from your phone. the sky had changed as christmas had arrived. everything was ready for your night as you had prepared once he had alerted you of his travel. 

opening the door, you gave a smile to greet him. one he returned promptly, pulling you into a friendly embrace. your heart skipped a beat, so anxious that you might do something he wouldn’t like. your body wouldn’t even offer you peace of mind to enjoy the closeness.

eventually letting go, you pulled your jacket on in a swift motion as you followed zen’s footsteps. being led to his motorcycle, a helmet was presented to you. “don’t worry, i’ll be safe. can’t damage precious cargo” he reassured you. 

god, was he trying to embarrass you, you thought as you felt yourself heating up. slowly gathering the courage to meet his eyesight again, you found him with a grin plastered across his lower face.

the nerve, though you’d have to let it slide for now. hoping on the ride, you heard the engine rear up as you went on your. wind hitting your face from all angles, moving your hair in whichever way it desired. 

pulling up to the event, you fixed your hair the best you could with your fingers with little time to spare. feeling your hand being grabbed, you looked towards zen, expressing a confident smile. in reality, you couldn’t believe what you had gotten yourself into.

taking the lead, zen greeted the people at the entrance in a polite yet swift manner. in your luck, they managed to find the time to question zen about your role to him. “she’s my girlfriend” he answered, before gesturing for the two of you to walk in.

the room was full of traditional christmas decorations with the occasional piece related to acting and performance. you quite liked it if you were honest. your attention was quickly redirected to the co-worker approaching the two of you.

oh no, you thought. what would you say to leave a good impression for zen and yourself as a pretend couple? remembering zen’s past words of advice, being confident and positive, you decided to adopt that attitude for the remainder of the evening.

“hyun, who’s this?” the person asked, leaving an eyebrow subtly raised. zen flashed a quick glance at you before responding “ah, she’s my girlfriend”. now was your time to shine. don’t mess this up, you told yourself.

“hello~ i’m mc. gorgeous event right?” you said with the nicest expression you could muster up. now you were left to hope you didn’t come across as too obnoxious or nervous.

“hello mc, pleasure to meet you” the co-worker greeted, reaching out a hand in your direction. slightly taken aback, you met his hand as you were involved in the handshake. that wasn’t so bad, right? maybe tonight would be easier than expected.

leading you to make a mental note of the three things you wanted to portray yourself as this evening. that being energetic, respectful, and adding in a tad of humor.

this formula seemed to be going well. an hour had already passed and nobody seemed to have a problem with you, openly at least. yet things started going down hill when you had a couple down further in the area whisper “things aren’t adding up with those two”.

a males voice added onto that, saying “i doubt they’re a real couple. look at them, neither one of them has shown the other any form of affection since they’ve gotten here”. you couldn’t find the words to say as you stood in slight horror.

how were they able to catch on? you thought you were doing good all night, making the environment relaxed and laid back. little to your knowledge, zen had heard the couple as well.

without giving it much thought, he knew he had to prove their thoughts wrong. hence why you suddenly felt yourself taken by the hands, pinned against the wall behind you. looking up in shock, you were met with zen’s face going in a kiss. of course, you couldn’t push him away. 

kissing him back, he found himself not wanting to stop. his rational mind took over quickly, pulling away. staring at you face to face, you could read the shock in his eyes. as if he was surprised by his actions. 

shock was something evident in your mind at the time too. you didn’t know what to think, what to feel. too many emotions were present for you to ever make sense of.

releasing your hands, he subtly went back to your side the same way he was before. almost as if it didn’t happen. yet you promptly heard his voice whisper “can we talk about this later?”.

without giving it much thought, you nodded in reply. you had so many new things to think about, you needed time. but in a good turn of events, the couple were no longer questioning your relationship status.

time passed in a slow motion, though reality reminded you that only an hour had passed once you looked at the clock. people were beginning to say their goodbyes, being given many gifts by the hosts. you and zen included as the computer was given for your leave.

returning to the motorcycle, you put on your helmet once again, as did zen. he would drive as you held onto the gifts in the back. this time, the wind wasn’t a bother to you. it had cooled off the heat from your face, deriving from the sudden actions of zen.

reaching your apartment complex, you got off the vehicle. looking nowhere but down as your feet carried you to your apartment, zen following behind you. as soon as your entered the familiar room, the fatigue from todays events had caught up to you.

now you were left with zen to discuss all that occurred. yet it took you a second to collect yourself for the conversation. you had no idea where this would go, you only hoped it would result in something good.

you heard the males voice begin to speak, “i’m sorry about doing that tonight, i should’ve asked first. i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable”. your thoughts paused for a quick second as something new entered. you didn’t want him to feel bad about anything, he didn’t deserve it.

“no no, you didn’t make me uncomfortable, i enjoyed it to be honest” you replied in a haste. your face changed as you really started to take in what you had just told him. you hadn’t meant to let that last part slide.

on second thought, perhaps it was a good thing to get it out there. you couldn’t hide your feelings forever. now it was zen’s time to become a visible shade of pink. were you serious...?

god that made him so happy. the last thing he wanted was to make you uncomfortable and hate him. worried thoughts filled his head for a split second before you came in to save this sanity, as you always did.

“i’m.. glad to hear that. i was worried you would be upset. look, i have something to confess” he started, deciding now was the time. he observed as your eyes became a tad bit bigger as your mouth opened slightly in a curious form.

continuing, he said “i’ve had feelings for you ever since you joined the rfa. i couldn’t understand them at first, thinking i was juust lonely and desperate. but as time goes on, i can understand why”.

“mc, you’ve made my life change for the better. i can’t imagine life without you. so, will you go out with me? we don’t have to play pretend anymore” he finishes, lightening up the mood ever so slightly during the end. 

to say you were ecstatic was an understatement. finally your prayers were being answered. you could feel as your cheeks flushed before you gave your answer.

“yes, of course i will” you responded softly, as if speaking any louder would make this go away. standing in comfortable silence, zen was content with your answer. offering his gorgeous smile for your eyes only.

“thank you, ha you’ve gotten me so stocked. i have to prepare for practice so i’ll see you tomorrow.” he says, the tone of his voice raising noticeably. you give him a nod of approval, but become flustered at the words he said before leaving through the door.

“merry christmas, sleep well love” he sang out, before closing the door behind him. how did he expect you to sleep once he’s gotten you all worked up, you thought. giggling to yourself, you felt as the fatigue became even more present now that you were home.

laying down to rest, you were grateful for the best christmas gift you had received this year. the one that would be stuck with you for a long, long time.

---

15:43 AST - 07/28/21

[fandom-imagination-ss]

Clark Kent imagine

Author note: I cannot remeber writing this..and since i haven’t wrote anything for a while. I figure hey why not!!!!! So Sorry if it doesn’t make sense LOL 😂😂 I will be posting more soon promise.!!

Did i proof read: .... I honestly dont remember writing this soo.. you BET your tooth i didn’t proof read

Rating: fluffy!

Fandom: DC

God your such a big Dork!”

Laughing loudly your sides hurt , Clark just tripped and slide right into a lamp and somehow managed for the shade too be on. His head. You reached over helping him chuckling softly tracing your hands over his broad shoulders making sure he wasn’t hurt. Those Hurting Clark was physically impossible. You still worry.

He chuckled softly saying sorry, you just laughed giving him a quick kiss on the shoulder as you shifted too move too your sofa.

Loving Superman had it’s perks and downsides, the biggest one was that Loris Lane was Furious that you “stole” her profit. Clark always said that Louis never abused their relationship too get articles or too gain more popularity. But she was literally the Only reporter in the entire City that Had Full access too the most talked about man in the entire world.Getting raises left and right when She got a “in-depth “ conversation with Superman and ally he deets on a attack. Whatever way Clark spelt it out. You hated that she abused her relationship for gain at work. It felt wrong. She was literally Sleepign with the subject too information.

It didn’t help that your relationship with her was tense even before you knew she knew about Clarks double life. You were one of the few humans too know about Clarks ability before he became Superman. You grew up right down the road from Clark, same grade, best friends all thru school. Clark would show off his powers too you when you were younger and you were the only one outside he’s family too know. After he left and ran off too find himself you stayed and helped his mom and then Superman arrived and you reconnected with your oldest friend and you moved toot he city after a awful breakup and you just always were around. And Louis hated it. You tried too be friendly towards her. But once Clark discovered she was In bed with lex Luther. (Right in the middle of the Act.) he was furious And heartbroken and he broke up with her and you were secretly glade you didn’t have too pretend too be friends with her anymore.

Dating the man of steel happened so naturally you can’t even remember when it started or how it started who made the first move it just felt Right. Clark was smiling cupping your face looking at you “what you thinking about?”

Poking his stoumch you look up at him grinning, “how I’m so lucky too have my Dork.” He chuckled reaching over kissing your head. “I have too go surveillance with Bruce you be alright tonight?”

Nodding your head weakly. You were use too having too share Clark with the world. Honestly how can you complain when he’s Saving the literally world?

“Oh Ask Bruce How The Hell do you connect the light too the speakers? Too do that flashy thing.he’s instructions Suck!”

He chuckled saying okay.

He walked off. As you grinned excited too have the apartment too yourself. You walked over too your room getting out of your Jeans and into Shorts and a shirt of clarks you always steal it had he’s favourite football team. Making dinner for you, and a dessert. You grabbed your Tablet (making sure too put sticky tack on both lenses after reading how easily the cameras’ are hacked you always put Sticky tack on it if your gonna watch something in the tub.

Getting the Tub ready you started binge watching a the musketeers. When you finished having a relaxing bath you got into your cloths again and watched it on the tv. The actors were Hot as Hell. And the voices. Melting! Clark had that affect on you. He’s voice was smooth and deep and Hot. Those every aspect of your boyfriend is Hot.

You looked around realizing the place was empty as you went too the freezer as you pulled out your container of Icing. Before retuning too the sofa and warming it up as you had your spoon from your ice cream and mixed it as you watched tv. An hour passed when jumped gasping at some scenes. Then you heard the deep chuckle of your boyfriend.

“what are you doing?” You turned looking at Clark seeing him in his uniform as you had a spoon sticking out of your mouth as you spoke, “I’m- what are you doing here? I thought you were going too be late?”

“I came too check on you- what are you watching?” Getting up as you grabbed the icing container as you spoke, “Mustkeers.- what- aren’t you suppose too be hanging with a bat?” He chuckled walking over pulling you into a deep kiss it was unexpected as he pulled back as he spoke, “good icing.” You laughed hitting his softly as he grinned holding your head. “You smell nice.”

“had a bath with my good stuff.” He chuckled softly rubbing your cheek with his thumb.

“thank you.”

“For. Bathing?”

Clark chuckled kissing your forehead as he spoke, “No for being you.”

“thank you?”

He kissed you again before dashing off as you got ready for bed.

Standing in the shower in the morning getting cleaned you turned seeing Clark standing in the bathroom smiling as you spoke ‘what?”

Seeing him pulling off his Shirt, which even after a year of dating. Still left you breathless seeing him shirtless. He was curved and caved from the Gods! It still took you back that he was yours. That this guy. Who looks like a god, has powers As if he was one. Was your you giggled seeing him quickly undress and Joining you in the shower. Quickly pulling you into a deep Kiss,

Perfection can only last for so Long.

It was wrong place at the wrong time. You were In a Church helping your friend choose a location for her wedding when a machine came Crashing into the Chapel destroying it. And the impact flung you backwards and you were pierced thru the stoumch by a pipe it slipped thru you like butter. You were pinned too the wall as you looked up seeing Lex Luther appear from the robotic machine he laughed loudly seeing you.

Superman arrived instantly you saw him just in time too loose vision from loosing so much blood. You heard him screaming No! As you drift.

Clark Dashed over too you seeing you impaled and pinned too the wall. He’s screams broke windows of the church as he fell down onto his knees realizing that you were gone. The girl who Never treated him like anything then a boy. The boy she has known her whole life. Who once learning about everything about him. Simply asked if she kissed him could she get the ability too be super strong. The girl who use too help him practice how too control who would sneak over too play with him. Who was his first kiss. The women who idea of a fun night in is. Watching a fantasy show and be bare legged and as comfy as possible. Clark felt his soul breaking seeing you. The Girl he was going too marry.have a family with.

“Opps.”

Luther said giddy seeing Clark in so much pain. Before Clark could find the strength too move. Luther dissapeared.

Clark screamed NO. You were gone..

Weeks passed with No sighting of Luther, Bruce ended up going toot he funeral, so did Diana , and Berry who you once meeting the flash instantly wanted too bet that Clark was faster. And you and him would have in debut conversations about Harry Potter. Wonder women was close with you also. You worked in a museum , and she would telly you stories a bout the greek gods. And the Amazon women. Cyborg was amazed a girl of this time. Couldn’t figure out how too do anything technical. You were as clueless as a 80 year old man trying too make a call on a smart phone.

Arther arrived toot he funeral with the others as he stood up too talk.the funeral was beauitful, and the wake was Sad. Clark’s Mom invited all the justice league too her house. Where Clark was staying since Luther has been MIA.

“when I first met that feisty women. She asked if I could really talk too whales and asked what they liked talking about. Then she told me I this insane theory of whales being fictional. Apparently that girl lived on the coast for two years. And Never saw a whale.Clark took her too my dads lighthouse and I got a few too pop up too show them off. I never seen a happier person in my life. She acted like a kid on Christmas Day .she was- something special.”

They all chuckled as Clark was silent holding his hands tightly as Diana stood up. “When I first met Y/N. she was covered head too toe in dirt and Mud. She was playing football with Clark.- She looked like the happiest girl in the world. I knew excatly at that moment she was madly in love. I remember looking like that at Steve. She asked me too help scare Clark it was- apparently her mission in life too scare him Once.-“ Diana went quite Seeing Clark was stiff. She knew excatly how he felt. Hallow inside with going thru the motion.

Bruce was about too speak when the front door opened. Seeing Y/N covered in dirt. You stood in the front entrance covered in dirt wearing the dress you were buried in. You coughed loudly as Clark Rushed over too you griping your face tightly, “how- How is this possible?”

“what the hell happened?”

Everyone looked at each other stunned as Diana heard a fast beating sound.

“Y/N? Is that you?” Clark was crying too hard too hear anything as Diana stepped over as she kneeled down pressing her ear too your stomach.

“it’s a heartbeat.”

“WHAT?” Gasping loudly as Clark was too stunned too take any of that information in. But your ears were working. “Shut up no it’s not! I- I was. In the church wasn’t I when that bastered- how- I woke up in the graveyard what the fuck! Is going on?!”

“how did you get out of the grave.. you were just Barried this morning.”

Rolling your shoulders you shook your head, “I woke up up above ground.. I wans’t- you buried me? What the Hell why!” You hit Clark as he gripped your face tightly as he spoke, “you scared the Shit outta me! How- I don’t understand you were died.”

You rolled your shoulders, “Don’t look at me! The last thing I remember was being in the church.. what- what happened?”

“you died..But I think your baby protected you.”

That’s when Clarks ears started working as he turned too wonderwomen. “Excuse me? Baby?”

“Oh Boy..’

[letterboxd]

In Focus: The Truman Show.

Inspired by Letterboxd data that revealed it to be a lockdown favorite, editor-at-large Dominic Corry looks at the ever-evolving importance of contemporary masterpiece The Truman Show.

It has long been apparent that The Truman Show is an unnervingly prescient film. The story of a man who becomes aware that his superficially idyllic life is, in fact, a live-streamed television show has gone from being high-concept to every-day.

Thanks to the three Ps—the prevalence of mass urban surveillance, the proliferation of reality television and the pervasiveness of video in social media—the notion of cameras filming our every move is no longer a paranoid fantasy, but real life. The twist being that, for the most part, we all willingly signed up for it, and did all the filming ourselves. As Yi Jian saliently observes in his review: “Not to get all ‘we live in a society’ on Letterboxd but I know a person or two in real life that would actually give anything to trade lives with Truman, it do be like that sometimes”. It indeed do, Yi Jian.

So it’s something of a cliché at this stage to point out how we are all living in some version of the The Truman Show, and you don’t have to be a member of the royal family to feel that way. Yet, somehow, the film has become even more pertinent over the last eighteen months. And it’s a pertinence reflected in the massive uptick in viewership for the film as seen in Letterboxd activity.

During the month of February 2020, the last moment of the Before Times, The Truman Show had a modest 1,235 diary entries. That number tripled in April of that year, by which time the seriousness of the pandemic had become clear. And by July, deep in the worst of the pandemic, Truman fervor peaked, with a further 178 percent leap over April’s numbers, firmly placing it in the top 200 films watched by our members in a year of lockdown. (By the way, ‘diary entries’ mean activity where the member has added a watched date; many thousands more also marked Truman as ‘watched’ in those dark months, but didn’t specify a date.)

It’s not difficult to imagine why we might become more interested in revisiting this eminently re-visitable film. During lockdown, social media—including Letterboxd—took on a greater presence in terms of how we communicated with each other. We got used to seeing footage of faces more than actual faces. We were all the stars of our own ‘Truman Show’, and simultaneously the audience of everyone else’s ‘Truman Show’.

Christian Torres boiled it down effectively when he wrote: “Now every movie I see seems to be related to my life in quarantine. I am Truman and I want to escape.” And Sonya Sandra eloquently captured the film’s increased contemporary significance in her review: “This is a real-life daylight horror film. The best kind. Even more relevant in 2021 than ever. We are all Truman, we all want to find what is real in our fake lives filled with media, capitalism and ideology. And it’s our job to fight the storm and get to the truth of it all. Nothing is real, everything is for profit, and everyone is selfish. Go out and find what is real, because it’s definitely not here.”

With its deft, dazzling blending of the profound and the humorous, the optimistic and the cynical, it’s difficult to think of anything released since The Truman Show that comes as close as it does to being a modern-day Frank Capra movie. It’s hopeful, but has its eyes wide open. There’s a darkness in the themes of the film that is never replicated in the colors on display.

While everyone involved delivers career-best work, we must principally credit the triumvirate of talent at the center of the film: director Peter Weir, screenwriter Andrew Niccol and star Jim Carrey.

Star Jim Carrey and director Peter Weir on the set of ‘The Truman Show’ (1998).

Weir is a director who inspires much online love whenever his name is mentioned, but he isn’t really mentioned all that often. Or at least as often as he should be. The Australian filmmaker has delivered masterpieces across multiple genres, and it’s extremely sad that he hasn’t directed a movie since 2010’s not-quite-true World War II drama The Way Back, arguably one of his lesser works. That’s also, insanely, one of only two movies he’s made since Truman, the other being Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World, the wide and rabid affection for which regularly kicks up on Twitter (not to mention demand for a sequel).

Weir doesn’t do many interviews, and while this 2018 Vanity Fair article marking Truman’s twentieth anniversary has many quotes about the film’s modern relevance, Weir doesn’t offer any commentary to that effect, presumably preferring to let the work speak for itself—though in this 1998 interview he did talk about the relationship between the media, the general public and the people we become fascinated with, as a “complex situation”.

The Vanity Fair article does, however, reveal a fascinating ‘what if’ scenario relating to Christof, the god-like director of the in-movie TV show played by Ed Harris, who offers up a pile of pretentious auteur clichés: mononymous, beret, etc. (beyond the whole god thing, that is). When Dennis Hopper, originally cast in the role, wasn’t working out, Weir considered playing the role himself, which would’ve added yet another meta layer. It brings to mind how George Miller styled Immortan Joe (played by Hugh Keays-Byrne) after himself in Mad Max: Fury Road, or how Christopher Nolan’s haircut shows up in most of his films.

Ed Harris as Christof in ‘The Truman Show’ (1998).

And, at one point, it could have gone mega-meta. Weir, in the 1998 interview, talked about a “crazy idea” he had, a technical impossibility back then but easily achievable with live-streaming now. “I would have loved to have had a video camera installed in every theater the film was to be seen [in]. At one point, the projectionist would … cut to the viewers in the cinema and then back to the movie. But I thought it was best to leave that idea untested.” Imagine.

Weir also played a role in helping to shape the originally much more overtly dark screenplay into the cheerier (on the surface at least) shooting script, which is solely credited to fellow antipodean, New Zealand-born Niccol, also a producer on the film. Both men have done the majority of their work in America, but it’s tempting to credit the film’s tone-perfect sense of heightened Americana to the degree of separation offered by their foreign provenance. In any case, it’s clear that open-air mall designers were paying attention.

Niccol’s original screenplay made his name in Hollywood, and revealed a storyteller excited by big ideas. He moved into directing with the smaller-scale Gattaca, released a year prior to Truman (itself delayed to meet Carrey’s availability). Niccol’s subsequent filmography includes several legit bangers (Lord of War hive step up!), and his endearing dedication to lofty allegories in a genre setting makes him an increasingly rare breed in Hollywood.

Like Weir, he is not the greatest fan of giving interviews, but the Vanity Fair piece quotes him making an interesting point: “When you know there is a camera, there is no reality,” thereby making Truman “the only genuine reality star.”

It’s a sentiment echoed by MusicMoviesMe, who writes that “‘Truman Show’ beats all other reality shows out there like Bachelors, Survivors and Kardashians. Come on, when you know there’s a camera at your tail, there’s no reality. So yes, Truman beats all reality shows out there bar none!”

The role was perfectly suited to Jim Carrey’s affected mannerisms, and his status as one of the world’s biggest stars meant he could relate to Truman more than most people. Then, at least. Nowadays, of course, we are all Truman.

“It is always incredible to see how far The Truman Show was ahead of [its] time,” observes The Closer79. “In a world where celebs are monitored 24/7 and we are showered with unnecessary private information on the web, where talent-free wannabes become famous and where you sometimes [wonder] what kind of surreal show society you are in—Truman and his fake show life cleverly have anticipated all of this. Only Truman knew nothing of his luck and he was granted an escape from his glass prison. We don’t really have this possibility… Aren’t we all Truman? Sometimes even voluntarily…”

Austin Burke concurs: “I have always known that I really enjoyed this film, but I had no clue that it would hold up so well years later… Could this be because the strange world that he finds himself in is far more similar to our world today? Possibly, but the idea and themes are so much more relevant now compared to when this originally released.” And while DallasFrance is conscious of piling on about the film’s prescience, his review highlights how there really is no limit to the film’s meta qualities:

“Instead of writing a review about how this film predicted social media, or how we’re all Truman, or yadda yadda yadda, I’ll instead fixate on the miraculous fact that two absolute legends were cast as primary viewers of the Truman Show:

1. The old lady from The Running Man who starts betting on Ben Richards (Arnold Schwarzenegger). ‘He’s one bad motherf*cker!’

2. The villain from The Karate Kid Part II:

‘Live or die, man?!’ ‘Die!’ ‘Wrong!’ *hooooonnnkkk*

I’ve never seen either of these actors in any other roles. With the second one, I felt like I was watching a character from my childhood watch a character from his childhood come to realizations about the characters in his childhood. So actually… the movie’s really about me.”

Never change, LB membership.

We are all generally pretty aware of how ahead of its time The Truman Show was, but that doesn’t lessen its impact. Maddie’s review shows that there’s always some new angle to consider: “Imagine being an extra in this movie… You would be an extra, playing an actor, playing an extra. Think about that long enough and tell me that doesn’t make you want to walk into the ocean.”

Kev goes even further: “Watching other people watch somebody else while also watching that person while also watching the person watching over that person is a great reminder that watching is weird, and to be watched is to not own yourself. Don’t watch, don’t try to be watched. Just live.”

Or perhaps Will encapsulates the film’s ability to present an ever-evolving message best, writing that, “clearly, this is video proof that we live in a simulation.” Beyond mere prescience, The Truman Show is a telling mirror to whatever era it is viewed in. Its message will continue to evolve.

Now that we’re finally (touch wood) emerging from the pandemic, it will be fascinating to see what The Truman Show has to say about its audience and the world they live in, in years to come. Rest assured, it will be well-documented by you, the Letterboxd audience.

Also: can Peter Weir please make another movie? Like, seriously.

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