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tqmies · 5 months

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In Disguise

Description. Desperate and broke, your trio of nerdy friends offer you a place to stay until you get back on your feet. Things are normal at first until you abruptly come across a camera tripod facing Doyoung's bed. Were your awkward friends really just camboy's in disguise?

Pairing. Kim Doyoung x Yuta Nakamoto x Kim Jungwoo x Fem Reader

Genre. SMUT, Camboy!AU, College!AU, Roomates! MDNI!

Warnings. Foursome (Do I even have to say it?), Unrealistic depictions of sex overall, A little MxM action, Fingering, Oral, Condoms taken off, Plan B mentioned, Voyeurism, Creampie, Degradation, Praise

Word count. 13K (oh...)

Note: This was supposed to be out ages ago but I'm proud (not rlly) to present this mess of a wet dream!

"You have no idea how grateful I really am." You state, placing down your last box into the vacant room. You sigh in relief as your back was literally killing you too much to drag another box up. And that was that the boys had helped you with a majority of it.

"You've said it a million times, I think we know." Yuta teases, opening the box on your bed as he shuffles through it. It was old books you had brought from your place, well a few of the tons you had. Most of them had to go into storage due to lack of room at your newest living arrangement.

Truthfully, you felt really bad about this whole thing, even though Yuta kept assuring you it was alright, all the boys did. But something felt terrible about rooming with your friends for free, and kicking Yuta out of his room at that.

The boys didn't want you to feel weird about sharing a room, so Yuta slept in the same room as Jungwoo for the time being, and that made you feel even worse.

"You can have your room back, I promise I can sleep on the couch."

"Then where would you put your stuff?"

And you had pretty much lost the argument then and there, but you were determined to make up for rent in other ways. You'd clean, do laundry, and cook a few of the meals you had mastered. You could buy groceries and maybe even pay the water bill every once in a while. Not that you planned to stay here for long, only until you found another job, seeing as the one you had rapidly started laying people off.

Which brought you back to square one, Yuta’s bed.

Not like that, get your mind out of the gutter!

"I'm home!" Jungwoo announces as you hear the front door shut, his loudness already alerting you. You heard the loud clank of his keys on the counter, and his footsteps making their way towards you.

"We just finished bringing all the boxes up." Doyoung comments, giving Jungwoo a much deserved side eye.

"Oh I made it just in time then."

Jungwoo came bearing gifts though, handing out bottles of water to you guys. "I got them from one of the tents on campus, here's a shirt too!"

And before you know it, you're being hit in the head with the shirt Jungwoo threw at your face. You throw it off as you jokingly threaten him. "I'm going to crack your glasses in half Kim Jungwoo."

The male cowers in fear as he scurries off to his room, shouting behind his shoulder. "Do you guys wanna see what I'm working on?"

Doyoung jumps up, always eager to divulge in Jungwoo's nerdy projects. "Sure."

"I'm designing a supersonic VTOL fighter jet!" The engineering major says, lugging his laptop towards you all, showing you some prints on his screen. They're blueprints and sketches, and random little notes on the side, but you really can barely tell what you're looking at.

It's not that you were dumb, you were actually a very decent student. But the men in the room with you? Jungwoo was a mechanical engineering major, which said enough. Yuta was pre-med studying to be a doctor, and Doyoung? He's here on a full ride scholarship studying computer science.

So, for lack of better words, you were the dumbest in the room.

Not that you cared anyways, the boys never made you feel less than or anything because of your simple major. You also took pride in it, sure you weren't designing future airplanes or developing software, but it was enough for you.

"Looks cool, but you should widen the wingspan, I see possible blockage through the-" Doyoung starts on with his commentary.

"Yuta! Do you want to help me start cooking?" You ask, the male seemingly uninterested in the plane, and you could relate. He nods and follows you to the kitchen, adjusting his frames.

After checking their fridge for ideas, you start filling a pot with water to boil some pasta in, directing Yuta to start chopping up some garlic. He follows directions well, as one would expect, and does as he's told.

"How did your mid-term go?" Yuta breaks the silence, referring to the grueling test he had helped you with.

"Fine, I got an 80." You reply, measuring out more pasta.

Yuta raises a brow as he places the knife down. "An 80? But we studied all week."

"Yeah but some of the questions were hard, I didn't remember." You say, and you were truly satisfied with your grade. Sure you had studied, but not everyone retained information as easily as your friends, and they were still having trouble learning that you weren't going to get a 100 points every time.

Yes the boys had extreme book smarts, but they lacked a little street smarts sometimes. They were less empathetic and more clear cut, but you knew they meant well. Though it didn't mean their lack of social cues hurt any less though.

Sometimes you wonder how you had even befriended them. Especially Doyoung, who was usually no nonsense and short worded on campus. But it could all be traced back to Jungwoo.

It was back in freshman year, and on your very first day of class. You had rushed in, confused to see that they had already started without you, which was weird seeing as your class wasn't supposed to be in session for another thirty minutes. You had just waved it off as an accident and sat down, right next to Jungwoo.

During a break, he had introduced himself and asked you if you were excited for Math 2414, and inquired about what your major was.

That was when you realized in horror that you were in Calculus, and not Pre-calculus. No wonder they had already begun, it was the wrong class! And you were not trying to take anything beyond what was required for your degree. "So this isn't pre-calculus?"

"No, I took that in high school! You didn't get that out of the way already?" He had asked, and just then did you realize what kind of person you were dealing with.

You had explained the situation to Jungwoo to which he was really understanding, offering to show you your actual classroom for your next class day. You had agreed, and then by some coincidence, you had run into Jungwoo a few days later. Catching up with him and mentioning you were having trouble with a certain concept already, to which he had offered his help.

You had started having sessions regularly, and Jungwoo had invited you to study with his group of friends, which is where you met the others.

Despite them being a little intimidated by you (And vice versa), you had all got along well, and you were thankful for that. Despite not having great social skills, they were actually a lot less complicated to deal with. They spent a majority of their time studying or doing school work, burying their noses in books. And if not? Then they're playing a computer game Doyoung designed, or testing if Jungwoo's rocket model could fly in the middle of a JCPenny parking lot.

They didn't have a lot of drama either, and you were sure they'd be simple enough to live with. Come to think of it, it's always been tidy whenever you've visited. Jungwoo's bed was always made and Doyoung's desk always clean. Yuta's was exceptionally organized too, even donning some expensive looking anime figures in displays on his shelf.

They were such nerds.

You snort to yourself as you pour the sauce onto the plates, food ready to be eaten. Funny enough, you hadn't even had to call the boys. Yuta had helped you but Doyoung and Jungwoo had hounded the kitchen counter and talked your ear off, both excited for a home cooked meal. Apparently, none of them could cook very well and they usually opted for take out, so this was a relief.

"You guys literally had all the ingredients already." You giggled as you sat down on the small table they had in their apartment.

Jungwoo shakes his head. "Doesn't matter if you don't know how to make anything out of them."

"Thank you by the way, this is really good." Doyoung nods, and by the way he scarfed down half of it already, you'd say he's telling the truth.

"Slow down, you'll choke." Yuta says concerned before his expression changes into a different one. "Wait, you should choke! I can finally practice my CPR on a real person!"

"Well if you haven't practiced on a human yet, I don't think I can trust you." Doyoung shoots him a glare.

"You're hindering my first-aid progression." Yuta narrows his eyes as he takes a bite of his food. The air grows quiet as you voice out what had been weighing on your mind.

"So, any plans for tonight?" You ask, wondering what you're going to get up to a Saturday night. You had a long week, especially since you had woken up on Monday to an eviction notice, so you'd say you could use some time out.

"Hm? Probably start looking over my lobotomy notes for my lecture next week." Yuta responds, earning a chorus of acknowledgment from the other males.

"O-okay, Doyoung?" You ask, but you think you can already guess too.

"I'm beta testing this program my friend just finished, probably'll take me all night." He speaks, attention on his food.

You deflate, looking towards Jungwoo. "Nice, and you?"

"Putting my blueprints into a 3D maker and drafting up a scale model of it." He says, and you take note of how he looks excited about it.

This was quite a turn from what you were used to, you had to remind yourself that these weren't your typical college guys. Yet, you could feel your left eye twitching slightly. "Guys! It's a Saturday night."

"Mhm?" Doyoung replies, his eyebrows furrowed, like the day didn't change anything.

You scoff, "So what, no frat parties? No bar hopping?"

You're met with blank looks, the men looking utterly confused as Jungwoo shakes his head, unfamiliar with both scenes. "No?"

You sigh, facing the fact that you're going out solo. You could probably text a few of your other classmates to meet up wherever you went.

"You guys do that, I'm gonna go get laid tonight." You shrug, getting up to put your dish in the sink. "Yuta you can sleep in your bed if you want."

"Wait- Where are you gonna go?" Jungwoo asks, following you to the kitchen with furrowed brows.

You shrug. "I don't know, maybe a club? Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. If I get home before morning then I'll just crash on the couch."

"If?!" Jungwoo's eyes widen at the prospect of you being out all night.

You place a hand on his shoulder. "I have a key, don't wait up."

And he stands there shocked, the other two watching as you head to your room to shower and change your outfit. You had a long night ahead of you.

Even afterwards, when you had stepped out in

You try your best to quietly open the front door, met with only pitch black darkness as you assume everyone was asleep. It was two in the morning, and in their defense, you did tell them not to wait up.

Slipping your heels off, you step quietly towards the couch. You peel your tight dress off and realize you have nothing to change into, and you weren't going to wake Yuta to just grab a shirt. Luckily for you, there was a blanket you could cover yourself with, so you discarded the bra as well, thankful that at least you had worn shorts under your dress tonight. You sigh as you lay down, head still spinning as you come down from earlier.

You had succeeded in your quest of getting laid, thoroughly being manhandled by a guy named Mingyu who went to a neighboring university. The sex was actually pretty decent, but it could've been better. You had wanted someone to bend you into a pretzel and fuck you until your legs were rendered useless for the next week. And he just couldn't provide that. Maybe you'd have to trust in your rainbow dildo from now on.

You brush the thoughts to the back of your mind as you finally find sleep, eyes fluttering shut.

You swear, it felt like you were asleep for all of two seconds when you hear the blaring alarm clock from one of the rooms. Followed by the sound of things being knocked over.

Rubbing your eyes as you sit up, hangover hitting you hard, but your eyes are drawn to frantic looking Yuta running around the apartment out of his room. He moves over a few things on the dining table quickly and you watching confusion.

"Where are they?" He mutters to himself, throwing some things in the kitchen around as well.

Sitting up, you rub your eyes as your vision adjusts. "What're you looking for?"

"Just my- Oh, where is your shirt? Why are you naked?" He rambles, covering his eyes as he turns around.

You hadn't even noticed that the blanket you used to cover yourself all night had slipped down, accidentally revealing at least part of your boobs to Yuta. "I slept like this because I didn't want to barge into your room to grab a shirt, sorry. I'll go do that now!"

You get up and scramble to the room, feeling so shitty at making Yuta uncomfortable. Opening the drawer, you slip on the first shirt that's there. You don't even look at it before you're rushing out and apologizing profusely to Yuta. "It's only my first morning here and I've already flashed you."

"Is that my shirt?" He asks, eyes wide and your look down to confirm that it was, in fact, Yuta's shirt.

"Oh! And I stole your shirt, I'll wash it and put it back! I really am sorry, I'm just so hungover right now." You hang your head in shame as the words slip out.

"No! No, really it's fine." Yuta dismisses as he waves his hands. "I found my keys so I have to go now, see you when I get back!"

And with that, he's out the door, face tinted red.

God, you were a fool! Sighing in defeat, you make your way to your room, slipping off the shirt and trading it out for one that was yours.

What you didn't know was that Yuta was still standing on the other side of the front door, mind reeling as he replays the mental image of your nipples peaking through the fabric of one of his shirts. He didn't think you'd be giving him this much trouble already! It was the first morning!

Back inside, you're gathering clothes to take a shower. Jungwoo opens the door to his room, unexpectedly rushing out as well, saying he had somewhere to be as he's unable to meet your eyes. You had no idea everyone would be so busy this morning. Was it usually like this? You shrug, too tired and ready to be met with steaming hot water as you bid him goodbye.

After your shower, you not surprised to see Doyoung up as well, sitting near the kitchen as he munches on a banana. You can see his computer in front of him displaying some kind of code, and he doesn't look like he got a wink of sleep. Did these boys ever take a break?

"Good morning Doyoung." You yawn, making a bee line for the coffee machine. You grab a K-Cup and try to figure your way around the machine as you fail to notice Doyoung's stare.

"Oh, Morning." Doyoung finally gives a greeting back, thankful that your back is facing him right now with the way the blood was rushing to his face. Now, Doyoung wouldn't say he was a pervert or anything, but he couldn't help the way his eyes were glued to your shorts.

You break him out of his spell when you turn around, coffee mug in hand. You're frowning, "Why's everyone so busy today?"

"It's like that everyday, we rarely see each other in the mornings." Doyoung explains, keeping his composure still as he tries not to let his eyes wander. He's not stupid, he knew it'd be a little difficult to live with someone as hot as you, but he figured he could handle himself.

"Oh that's too bad, I wanted to make everyone breakfast." You speak, turning around to open the cabinets, unaware how Doyoung's eyes shot straight back to your ass. "So, how was your night?"

"I-it was alright, and yours?" He asks while he clears his throat, already semi-aware of your ventures that you had announced.

"Can't say it was any better." And you leave it at that as you sigh. What could you mean by that? Did you not get laid? With an ass like that?

"Oh.. Well, I have a meeting with my professor in twenty so I have to get going soon." He nods, and you just about lose your mind.

"On a Sunday?"

"Computers work on Sunday's too."

God, what was he on about? "Okay Doyoung, see you later then."

Weirdly, you felt the least your friends could do was amuse you. But so far, you were beginning to realize that they're likely this busy all the time, between their schooling and internship jobs, they were packed.

Speaking of jobs, it was time to start looking.

Eight online job applications later and you're about ready to move to the woods and start living like a cave woman off the grid. No money, no bills, and no rent. Sadly, you were too accustomed to running water to let that happen though.

So you decide to drop off an application at a promising job near you, before hitting the inevitable brick wall. You don't have a printer.

Surely one of the boys had to have one, right?

Wrong, it seemed as you looked into Jungwoo's room. It felt weird to just peep in there, but you didn't want to bother him by texting since you knew he was busy. Unfortunately, you were already aware that Yuta didn't have one either.

Which left you with peeping into Doyoung's room. Maybe if you had just, I don't know, used the printer available at your college campus, you wouldn't have discovered such a life altering sight.

Yet, for some reason, that possibility didn't cross your mind as you swung the door open. And you felt like your jaw hit the floor as you stared ahead almost immediately.

Positioned right above Doyoung's bed, was a camera.

And not just any camera, an ultra HD expensive looking one, and that said a lot seeing you knew nothing about cameras. To make matters worse, it was held by a tri-pod. Could it be any more obvious?

You close the door as you stand, feet plastered to the floor in horror. What the hell was Kim Doyoung doing with a classic porn set up in his room? Kim Doyoung?! The nerdy TA who ran from woman that were just trying to ask him class-related questions? The male who grimaced at any sight of public of public affection? The one who rolled his eyes in annoyance when others made dirty jokes?

That Kim Doyoung was making porn?

Yeah right, you could almost laugh at that.

There had to be another reasonable explanation, right? You had known Doyoung for a while now, and he definitely didn't even seem like a man who was too keen on pre-marital sex, there was just no way he was filming it.

You doubt he even watched porn, that's how busy and wound up he seemed. There was no way on this green earth that he was doing that. But that doesn't explain what the camera was doing there.

You had to find a way to connect this to his nerdy computer job or you were going to go crazy.

You got home around five in the afternoon after dropping off the finally printed application, and picking up a few things, like toilet paper and laundry soap, that you had noticed missing around the apartment. Mostly just buying yourself time to get over the weird thoughts you were having now.

You doubt you'd be able to look Doyoung in the eye without crumbling, so you text your friend Mark if you can crash on his couch, he lives closer to campus anyways. He responds almost immediately with a sure dude, and you decide you'll stop by the house to pick up pajamas.

You don't expect anyone to be home as you unlock the door, but of course, everyone was home. All of them gathered in the living room with takeout boxes as Jungwoo spots you. He holds one up, "We didn't know when you'd be home, but we ordered for you."

You smile as you thank him, opening the box to reveal your favorite dish. You hadn't explicitly told them lately, but they had remembered? That makes your heart swell for your friends a bit as you spot Doyoung out of the corner of your eye. Oh, right.

"Actually, I have to go do this thing tonight." You lie. "So I just stopped by to get some clothes."

"Really? Is everything okay?" Yuta inquires as you nod. And it's as if there's no awkwardness from him after the incident this morning either, so you're grateful for that.

"I'm fine, I'll be home tomorrow." You explain.

"Well, could you spare a minute to eat with us?" Jungwoo pouts, and you find yourself nodding before you can stop yourself. You were always a little weak for him.

If Doyoung notices your odd behavior as you sit by him, he doesn't say a word about it. In fact, everyone seems to go about their business. Everyone filling you in on how busy their days were and asking about what you had been up to.

"Oh, I left the bags by the door, but I bought some stuff we needed."

"You're an angel." Jungwoo comments. "I was scared I was going to have to use napkins instead of toilet paper again."

"That's so gross Jungwoo." Yuta reconciles and you all laugh in agreement.

"So, you'll be gone all night then?" Doyoung asks, bringing your attention back to him. Your eyes dart to his hands, right as he twirls the noodles around his chopsticks. Sure you were still wondering a little about the camera situation, but it wasn’t like that right? Though you can’t help but notice how pretty his hands were.

His fingers were long, and you couldn’t help but imagine how they wrapped around his own cock. If he filmed anything, would he jerk off and beg his viewers to let him cum? Or was he more dominant, shoving his thin fingers into a flashlight as he spoke nasty words, or maybe even in another girl. The visual alone is enough to get you hot and bothered. But you shake yourself out of it, this was the dorky comp-sci major you lived with, you should not be thinking about him like that.

"Yeah, I'm working on a project with Mark, figured I'd just spend the night since we have the class together in the morning." You put together, pretty impressed with how well the lie was coming out.

"Mark?" Yuta raises a brow, the name familiar to him. "Like the hockey player?"

You nod, curious. "You know him?"

"Not really, just know he's a jock."

You catch his implication. "Well, he's not like that. Plus, he's my friend so you guys shouldn't worry, not like I'm spending the night with a stranger."

Jungwoo grows uncharacteristically quiet. "Oh."

"So Jungwoo's being fucking weird, Doyoung might have an onlyfans, and Yuta's saw your boobs?" Mark parrots back as you two sit on his living room couch, he's shifting the lollipop in his mouth from one side to the other as he thinks. His brows furrow in concentration as he cooks up a response.

"Exactly."

Haechan, your friends roommate and fellow hockey teammate, laughs loudly as he enters the room. "And it's only your second day living with them?"

"Told you the losers would be a lot to handle." Mark shrugs, and you roll your eyes. These two didn't have the greatest impression of your other three friends, reducing them down to the nerds everyone thought they were.

"I didn't see you offering me a room," You defend. "Plus, they're super easy to live with so I don't have much else to complain about."

"You could always just share a bed with me." Haechan smirks, and you fake gag. "Your room smells like shit."

"Hey!"

"Anyways, I'd rather live with my beloved nerds than with you two sleazes." You state truthfully, scrunching your nose.

"Doyoung might be slinging his dick on camera, yet we're the sleazes?" Mark giggles, and you hit him in the arm.

"I don't think that's the case but, is there any other explanation?" You groan, stealing a chip from a bag hidden on Mark's side. He swats at your hand as you grab another one.

"He could just be into filming." Haechan offers, joining you two as he pops open a soda. And you ponder if Doyoung's ever been seen with a camera before.

You shake your head, doubting it. "He's never mentioned anything like that."

"Well running from him, and the rest of your roommates, is just going to make them think you're ungrateful. It'd be better to just confront them now and get over it." Mark advises, and the other male agrees.

Haechan places his soda down. "Why does it matter anyways? What Doyoung does in his apartment is no one else's business."

"Well-" You stop yourself as you look down. "I don't know."

"What's up?" Mark says at the shift in your attitude.

You hadn't confronted it yet, but the though of the things Doyoung did on his bed with his camera running? You hated that you wanted to see it. You hated that you ran with the implication of him having a scandalous hobby, and that you wanted a front row seat.

"I don't know, even with those wire-frame's and all, I think he's kind of cute." You admit begrudgingly, leaning back into the couch in embarrassment.

"Oh my God," Haechan sits up. "The thought of him doing that has you all hot and bothered! That's what it is, it's not even about him actually doing it, its about you thinking he is."

"And you're just having trouble grappling with your feelings." Mark shrugs as he pops a chip into his mouth, lollipop stick discarded.

You cover your face with your hands. "Stop.."

Mark sighs, throwing his hands up in defeat. "Don't hate the messenger."

"Okay sure, Doyoung's nice to look at but if anything, I'd be more into Jungwoo." You reveal, and it's true. If there's anyone in the house you'd like in that way, it'd be Jungwoo. You two just had a better connection, even if he'd be acting different lately.

"In a weird science-y kind of way?" Haechan tilts his head before groaning. "Why him when you could have the hottest frat boy on campus?"

"There you go again." You glare, knowing instantly that he was referring to Lee Jeno's crush on you. You know full well the two in front of you were rooting for their friend. They also thought you were too attractive to be hidden behind stuffy scholars all day. And sure, Jeno was sweet, and easy on the eyes, but you just weren't into him. "Stop trying to set me up."

"Worth a shot."

"Anyways, I think instead of just hiding here." Mark narrows his eyes. "You should go home and explain everything, that way you don't continue scuttling around out of nervousness."

"And admit that I thought about Doyoung in that way?" You exclaim, face palming. "Mark, that's a terrible plan."

"You don't have to say all that," Mark crosses his arms in retaliation. "Just talk about Jungwoo's behavior and clear the air with Yuta."

You hang your head in defeat. "Can I at least wait until tomorrow?"

"Nope. Now."

You plead as you caught off guard by his insistance. "But Mark-"

"He said now." Haechan repeats, grinning at your misery.

"Oh so now you two agree?" You scoff in disbelief. Those two loved to argue about everything, but of course they could team up against you.

Mark nods, pointing to the door. "Go before it's past their bedtime."

"Don't be ridiculous Mark." Haechan feigns seriousness before he chuckles. "They have to tuck each other in first."

"You two are so annoying." You mutter as you pack up your bag. Shooting the two endless glares as you slip your shoes on.

Thirty minutes later and you're at the front door of what is now considered your home. Even when it was just your friends, you had never felt this nervous entering it before. You take a deep breath in as you stick the key in the lock, ready for confrontation.

You're met with chatter in the living room, relieved that they were still up, at least you wouldn't be waking them. You close the door behind you quietly as you take your shoes off and make your way to the living room.

You take a deep breath as you round the corner. "Hey, I'm back-"

You freeze in your place at the sight before you. It seriously seemed liked your friends had been abducted by aliens. There was no way the image before you was real. Your eyes widen as your jaw slacks, "What. The. Fuck."

Your met with three pairs of eyes staring back at you, Yuta standing up from the couch first. "I-I thought you were going to be gone all night."

You stay still from shock, brain trying to come up for any reasonable explanation as to why your friends looked liked male strippers right now. "You...You're Yuta?!"

Yuta looks taken aback. "Just with a little makeup."

Just a little? Yuta looked completely transformed, his hair gelled back nicely instead of awkwardly parted down the middle. The black glasses and collard shirts traded out for thick rings and painted nails. He looked like a rock star, and was that a tattoo?

"We can explain." Doyoung awkwardly looks down. Your knocked out by the sigh of him as well. Gone is his usual stern put-together look, instead he's donning smoky eye shadow with layered gold necklaces as his dark hair messily frames his face. He's wearing a sleeveless shirt, and that catches you heavily off guard as he usually only wears loose fitting clothes. He had been hiding those toned arms the entire time?

You take a step back. "How do you plan on explaining why it looks like I just stepped onto the set of Magic Mike?"

Your eyes finally meet the quiet boy who had been on your mind recently, Jungwoo. And to say he looked stunning would be an understatement. He was wearing a cropped shirt that showcased his toned abs as he stood up, the red color of it contrasting to his skin perfectly. His eyes looked striking, and he's wearing dark makeup as well.

You'd hate to admit it, but the sight of the men had you suddenly rubbing your thighs together and trying to stop your head from spinning. What the hell was going on right now? What alternate timeline has you just entered?

"Why don't you sit?" Doyoung suggests, avoiding eye contact.

"Umm, alright." You comply, hesitating. When you look back up with expectant eyes, they start to get nervous.

Yuta sits as well, and you're trying not to drool. "Don't freak out."

You side eye him, this was an unusual reaction. "Right.."

"I'll just come out and say it," He pauses. "We're camboys."

He watches your face for a reaction but you provide none, instead choosing to have an explosion in your mind as you keep your composure outwardly. You turn to face him, calmly. "Oh."

Doyoung repeats. "Oh?"

"I don't know how I'm meant to react to this." You struggle truthfully. One, you were grappling with the explanation that you were right in your assumptions. Two, you were trying your best not to just gawk at them. "Plus, it's none of my business, I just came home to apologize."

Jungwoo furrows his brows. "To us?"

"I kind of already saw the tri-pod facing Doyoung's bed and jumped to conclusions. That's why I was acting distant, and I also flashed Yuta this morning-"

"You what?" Doyoung perks up.

"It wasn't on purpose." You wave your hands around before lowering your voice. "And I wanted to know why Jungwoo's been acting weird lately, and if I did anything wrong."

Jungwoo looks taken aback. "What? No, you didn't do anything wrong."

"Are you sure? You've been acting off since I've moved in." You respond, trying not to ogle your friends abs. It was proving to be harder than you thought as you forced yourself to look him in the eye.

Yuta and Doyoung exchange a knowing glance that you miss as Jungwoo stutters for an explanation. "I'm sorry, I've just been stressed."

And you just nod, the tense atmosphere in the room suffocating you. "Maybe I should go."

"Are you bothered?" Yuta asks, stopping you. The rest of the boys look genuinely worried, and you feel terrible. Your silence must've come off wrong.

"What? No, this is your house! You can all do whatever you want." You admit genuinely.

Doyoung shakes his head. "We could've at least let you know before hand-"

"No, really, it's fine." You reassure him as you make eye contact with the two other boys. "Also, your secrets safe with me, I won't say anything."

"We know you won't." Yuta nods. "We trust you, and we're sorry we didn't say anything sooner, we just didn't want things to change."

"Nothing has changed, alright?" You smile. "Everything's normal."

Everything was far from normal as the days progressed. Sure, the boys seemed a little more loose around you, knowing they didn't have to hide their nighttime activities from you anymore.

But you, on the other hand? Let's just say you were having a hard time not opening a incognito tab on your computer to search for your friends content. Though you knew their accounts wouldn't be easily traceable, likely not having their real name attached to it at all.

It still didn't stop you from wanting to look though.

"If you zone out one more time, I'm kicking you out of my apartment." Haechan voices in annoyance, noticing your lack of attention on some crazy story he was telling you today.

"Yeah, what has you so spacey?" Mark asks, returning to Haechan's bedroom with a water bottle in his hand.

They were unaware of the events, as you had kept your mouth shut, as promised. But it was beginning to grow harder to keep everything to yourself, especially with the way you'd been feeling lately. So with Mark's curious eyes on yours, the words spill out like a waterfall. You recalling everything that had happened to your closest friends, including how badly you wanted to know what the others were up to behind the camera.

Haechan looks gobsmacked, mouth agape as he takes in your words. "..Jungwoo has abs?"

"Is that all you got from that?" You voice frustratedly, they were insufferable.

"I'm never seen him in the gym a day in my life!"

"You don't go to the gym Haechan!"

"All three of them?" Mark repeats, in utter shock as well.

You nod back. "I don't know if they film together or what but-"

"You wanna see it." Haechan finishes for you. "You pervert!"

"I'm not a pervert!"

"You're a pervert. Pervert, pervert, pervert!" Haechan continues in a sing-song voice as you feel your eye twitch. You don't know why you told these two, not like they could offer any useful insight.

Before you can retaliate, Mark's shushing his friend. "I know how to fix this."

You listen because, really? How could Mark possibly know how to solve the inner turmoil brewing inside of you? What could make it all go away?

You admit. "I'm all ears."

"You need to get laid." He states, and your brows fuzz.

"Uh..." You trail, trying to figure out the nicest way to shoot him down.

"Not by us!" He responds, almost reading your mind, then turning around and pretending to puke in Haechans mini trash can. How mature. He comes back to his senses as he stands up again. "Come to a party with us and get fucked. It'll take your mind off of them, and anyways, I think this is just caused by sexual frustration."

Haechan pipes in. "He's right, you're just suffering from lack of dick."

"I slept with this dude named Mingyu like a week ago-"

Haechan stops you. "Shhh, Mark is always right! Right Mark?"

"Right!" And it's so strange how the two have been suddenly agreeing lately.

So you, almost unwillingly, find yourself attending a party with them that very night. Dressed in your tightest fitting dress and your nicest pair of lingerie. After about thirty more minutes of talking to you, they had you convinced your reeling horny thoughts were coming from sexual deprivation. You're sure they had brainwashed you, because seriously, you just had sex! This plan was dumb, but what else did you expect?

Though now, you're feeling stupid as your two friends subtly nudge Lee Jeno in your direction. God, you should've known those two were up to something.

You sip from your red solo cup as Jeno continues to shyly sell himself to you. He's telling you about his volunteer hours, his stellar sports stats, and his love for animals. If you didn't know any better, you'd say he's interviewing for a job, and not just attempting to grab a hookup.

Your heart somewhat aches for the boy, he definitely was trying to make you his girlfriend sooner or later, and it was almost sweet. But even if you weren't currently enthralled by the idea of your roommates, you still wouldn't have seen yourself giving Jeno a chance. He wasn't really your type anyways.

Jeno excuses himself to pour another drink as you shoot glares at your two friends from across the room. Not that Haechan sees it though, he's too busy trying to feel up some poor girl who fell for his pick up lines. Mark looks intimidated though!

You pull out your phone in an attempt to discourage any others from approaching you, and are met with a notification from Jungwoo. You open the message accompanied by his cute little contact photo and try not to smile.

It reads, Hey! Doyoung attempted dinner, you should come join us.

Granted, the boys had no idea where you were or that you were being forced into yet another mission, but you just stick your phone back in your purse and scan the room again.

While Lee Jeno may not have been your type, looking for something far too serious to even let you consider sleeping with him, Liu Yangyang seemed to be just what you were searching for. With your luck, he'd throw you off to the side the next morning. You're relieved by the fact that's he's not known to be one for committing.

You're about to approach him when Mark meets your eyes, sending you a silent don't, basically reading your mind. God, why did they have to play wingman? And curse Mark for reading your mind! So you stay rooted in your place as Jeno returns, handing you a drink that you won't even be drinking from.

Doyoung's dinner would probably be more entertaining that this right now. "Hey, sorry. I think I'm actually gonna head home, I'm pretty tired." You let out, interrupting whatever Jeno was saying.

There's a flash of disappointment in his eyes before he smiles. "I can drive you home."

Your eyes dart to the beer in his hand, passing him a fake smile. "I'll manage, but thank you for offering!"

You ignore the silent pleas and texts from your friends as you exit and get into your car, thankful that you hadn't taken a sip of anything at that party.

A few minutes later and you're back home, deciding to ring the door bell so you're not faced with another situation.

Yuta opens it, smiling as he welcomes you home. You grin back as you slip off your shoes, starving for whatever you could find. "Is dinner ready?"

But your question is answered as you walk into the kitchen to see instant ramen packets scattered across the counter top as Jungwoo holds a bowl, and Doyoung frantically scrubbing at a burnt pan.

Doyoung pushes up his glasses with his shoulder as he's still elbow deep in the sink. "Dinner didn't exactly go as planned."

You giggle. "I see that."

"Want some ramen?" Jungwoo perks up, gesturing his chopsticks towards you when you nod.

"Promise you'll cook for us tomorrow?" Yuta asks, watching as the charred food doesn't let up from the pan. You make a face as well as you shake your head.

"Promise," You say, swallowing your noodles as you sit next to Jungwoo. "Sorry I was out, Haechan and Mark are trying to set me up."

Doyoung somewhat stiffens at the names. "Yeah? Take it that didn't go well?"

You sigh. "Well, he's an athlete and he's nice enough,"

"But?" Jungwoo finishes, knowing you weren't done. Well, he was downright hoping something was wrong with this mystery athlete, truth be told.

Good thing he was right. "But, I don't think I'm into him."

"Why not?"

"No particular reason," You lie, managing to avoid eye contact with the men that were your roadblocks to anyone else right now. How were you supposed to manage a decent lay while thinking about the three hottest guys you've ever seen at home?

Even now, without their makeup and sultry clothing, you think they look attractive as ever. God, you had it bad. With those stupid collard shirts and wire frames, you think they've never looked better.

"I think I'm going to lay off the parties for a few days anyway, midterms are in a week." You continue, knowing the men in front of you had been preparing for them these past couple of weeks already.

"Right," Doyoung nods, sleeves still rolled up as he dries his hands. "Wanted to warn you by the way, we're going to be filming on Tuesday."

"Got it, I'll study at Mark's." You pass, already planning in your head how to get Haechan's loud mouth out of the room long enough to get work done.

Jungwoo looks bothered though. "Or you could stay?"

You look up from your bowl. "Hm?"

"I've been thinking," Jungwoo starts. "This is your place too, you should be able to go about your business while we film. It's not like I haven't done homework while Yuta recorded a fleshlight clip in the next room."

His boldness paired with his vulgar language — which you were definitely not used to — catches you off guard.

"I wouldn't want to bother-"

"No, he's right." Doyoung stops you. "We can't send you off everytime we have something to do, unless it makes you uncomfortable?"

You pause, you shouldn't even be considering this! Not just because of your lack of self control, but also, wouldn't this be dangerously pushing boundaries? "Oh but Yuta doesn't even have his own room right now-"

"Look, if Yuta ever needs to push something out, he can use my room. Or you could just come chill in mine while we wait." Jungwoo offers.

But goodness, being in the same vicinity as any of them when they're doing such sinful things? How were you supposed to hold back? You'd be expected to talk to Jungwoo while Yuta moaned up a storm in the other room?

"Oh, I don't know." You answer, wanting to drop the topic for now. It wasn't getting any easier to talk about it anyways.

"Why do you seem so nervous about it?" Yuta leans in, eyes meeting yours.

You subconsciously lean back, he was definitely onto you. Too bad it was a little hard to fake that you didn't fight the subconscious urge every past night to google their names. "Oh, uh-"

"We'll drop it," Jungwoo shoots a glare at Yuta. "Sorry."

"It's fine!" You smile, pretending to be preoccupied with your ramen. Though your mind is on anything but those stupid noodles right now.

“No we won’t.” Yuta smirks, ignoring Jungwoo entirely. “What has you so worked up, rubbing your thighs together below the table?”

You’re caught off guard at his openness. “W-what?”

“I bet it’s not that athlete, is it?” Yuta leans, tone seductive, and something you had never heard before. And you'd be lying if you said you didn't want him to bend you over the table in front of you.

You avert your eyes, wondering why everyone else had gotten quiet all of a sudden. You couldn't confront this right now, no you wouldn't! "I'll be in my room."

And with that you make a quick way for your temporary bedroom. Ignoring Jungwoo's call for your name as you close the door behind you. What the hell were you going to do now?

Yuta knows he messed up, bad. Things had been tense in the house for the past few days, and you were more skittish than he had ever seen you. He wondered if you were spending time at Mark's place again.

That was Jungwoo's biggest nightmare, in all honesty. He wasn't sure what the nature of you and Mark's friendship was — and he didn't even want to think about it. You were gorgeous, you could have anyone you wanted! He had no doubt that your friends would fuck you if given the chance, if they hadn't already. He knows it doesn't matter who you're sleeping with, but it does make him feel jealous.

Doyoung remains indifferent, at least on the outside. He goes about his day as Yuta and Jungwoo lose their minds over how to return to their normal selves again. It affects him as well though. You were really close to all of them at one point, how had that changed in less than a week?

Doyoung just knows he wish things had went differently.

The sound of the front door opening alerts everyone in the house. Jungwoo's quick to jump up, greeting you at the front door. You smile back as you remove your shoes. You try to keep your composure as you ignore the men in front of you being dressed up. Ah, you forgot it was a filming day. "Today was so stressful."

"Really? Do you maybe wanna watch something in my room with me?" Jungwoo suggests, hoping he can attempt to ease things. "It'll help you relax."

You shrug, though you don't if you could handle the close proximity. It's already taking everything in you right now not to jump his bones in this hallway. "Why not?"

He mentally celebrates in his head, "I'll grab some chips and meet you in my room."

You nod, walking to your temporary room to change. Today really had taken a toll on you, and on top of it, you forgot you were coming home to your roommates alter-egos. Not that you were complaining, because you definitely weren't, but it had slipped your mind. At least Jungwoo wasn't being awkward anymore. Things were going back to normal, right?

You change into shorts and a simple t-shirt and make your way across the hall. You push open the door and see Jungwoo settled already on his bed, the tv already on. You and him to have movie nights in his bed during sleepovers, so this wasn't unusual. Finally, something was normal again. Even if now you were sexually attracted to him. Geez, could you get your head out of the gutter?!

You two watch the movie for a few minutes as Jungwoo starts to shift in his spot. You begin to grow concerned. "Everything okay?"

Jungwoo brushes you off. "I'm fine."

You furrow your brows. "Alright.."

It only takes a few seconds for him to break as he shoots up. He couldn't ignore it's presence, especially not with you in the room. The insinuation of the little red light on in the corner, as the two of you sat on his bed? It was taking his mind to places it shouldn't go. "I left my camera on my desk, its facing this way. Let me just put it up."

And with that he scrambles to his desk, shutting off the camera and tossing it in one of his desk drawers. He's frantic, and his mind is racing with how little you must think of him right now. "Sorry."

You shake your head. "Stop apologizing, it's fine."

Jungwoo covers his face with his hands as he leans against his desk. He breaks, "I can't keep pretending this isn't weird."

You had no idea he was losing his composure as well, you had thought you had been the only one blowing it out of proportion. But you didn't want him to feel ashamed. So you assure him, "I don't mind."

He moves his hands. "You don't feel weird?"

"Can I be honest, Jungwoo?" You ask, it was now or never. One more second of this back-and-forth and you were going to explode.

He meets your eyes. "Please?"

“It turns me on.” You blurt out, admitting the truth. And you can't believe it had came out so easily.

Jungwoo’s shocked as he fumbles over what to say next. “What?”

It was too late to go back now, you had to say it. “I think it’s hot, Jungwoo, I think you’re hot.”

Were his ears deceiving him? He prayed you weren't messing with him. “Really?”

You giggle as you stand to your feet and he starts to feel stupid. “Mhm."

You continue to walk up to him as you place your hands on the desk behind him, effectively caging him between you. You had no idea where this boldness came from, but its likely he was drawing it out from you.

And he can't believe his circumstances. The girl he's been utterly in love with is leaning over him, in those tiny little shorts, telling him that he was the hot one? “So if I kissed you right now, you would-”

You stop him mid-sentence as you bring your lips to his. It's reliving almost, the way your mouths slide together in synch. You had waited far to long for this to let him think he would take the lead. You wanted it far too badly.

He kisses you back, head dizzy with how much he wants you. Though he's laced with a feeling of uncertainty that he just can't shake off because what was this? Was this just a hook-up, oh he was getting ahead of himself. This was a kiss, who knew if you even wanted to sleep with him!?

He debates telling you right there, not letting another second go by where you don't know about his feelings. But he's scared, terrified even, of your reaction. So he savors the kiss, putting his hands around your waist to grab your hips and pull you closer together, if that was even possible.

You can feel your heart rate increasing as you lose your breath. You pull away slightly for breath as you and Jungwoo meet eyes. He's showing no signs of stopping though. Pulling you back in to meet his lips as gentle as possible, before kissing you with the hunger of a starved man.

He's devouring you, and he's not sure if he intends to stop there. He doesn't want to stop there, but he's completely blank on what you want. He separates, "We should stop."

You're hazy, drunk on the kiss as you eyes don't leave his lips. "Don't wanna,"

He stops you before you can go in again, squeezing your hips. He couldn't get enough of you, his body was craving you. "I don't know if I'll be able to control myself."

You smirk, hunger in your voice. "Then don't."

He groans, you had no idea what you were doing to him. How long he had dreamed of this moment. "I need to know what you want."

The statement has a double meaning, almost daring you to spill out about feelings that he's not even sure you had. Was he ultimately just hurting himself? Likely.

Though you only catch one meaning, "I want you inside me."

And he'd be stupid to deny you that. He tries to formulate a response but you don't give him a chance. You lean closer, brushing your sex on his semi-hard on, "Need you inside me."

"Fuck," He rasped, as he moves his knee between your thigh. You moan out in ecstasy, feeling slightly embarrassed. He had barely even touched you and you're bitching like a dog in heat.

You lick your lips. "Jungwoo, I-"

The door swings open as Yuta and Doyoung peek in. Yuta shakes his head as he crosses his arms, Doyoung standing in complete surprise. The two of them stare as if they caught you doing something illegal.

"Well, what do we have here?" Yuta speaks as he takes in the scene before him. You and Jungwoo hadn't even bothered to separate, too caught off guard to even have time to think about hiding what you were doing.

You swallow hard. "We were just-"

"Just grinding on each other like horny teenagers?" Yuta finishes, smirking as he knows he couldn't have walked in at a better moment.

"Yeah, thanks for the invite Jungwoo." Doyoung comments sarcastically, and you're left confused.

Jungwoo immediately catches on. "No that's not what we were-"

Yuta doesn't buy it. "No use in lying about it."

"I'm sorry, what?" You ask, unmoving.

"Yuta thinks we're filming." Jungwoo elaborates, sighing.

"You're not?" Yuta asks, and Doyoung looks intrigued.

You shake your head, "We were just kissing anyways."

"Jungwoo's boner says otherwise." Doyoung snorts.

Yuta crosses his arms, "Were you really gonna fuck her without us?"

The words hit you, without us? Who was us? Yuta and Doyoung?

You stutter, flabberghasted. "Y-you guy's would've wanted to watch?!"

Yuta shrugs. "I'll be honest, that's more of Doyoung's thing. He likes to watch, he's into those cuck things. I, on the other hand, would've wanted to join."

Yet again, you're phased by the casual talk of this all. A few weeks ago you never would've thought your friends were so, nasty. The guys who avidly avoided woman, the guys who go all shy when you got too close, the guys who would rather be studying than anything else. You don't think you'll ever get used to how they talk now.

Blinking, you speak. "You want to fuck me?"

Yuta brushes hair out of his face. "Are you serious?"

"W-what? Why are you acting like it's a stupid question, you guys have never shown attraction to me." You state, moving off of Jungwoo, and he winces as the loss of contact.

Doyoung groans. "I don't think we could've been anymore obvious without downright saying it."

Was that true? Had you missed all the signs? "I had no idea."

Yuta scoffs, quirking his head to the side condescendedly. "Look at her face, she's telling the truth, she really had no idea what she was putting us through. And here I thought you were being a tease on purpose."

"A tease?"

"Oh come on, flashing me. Walking around the house in tiny shorts and no bra under your t-shirts." He names and you see how that could look.

You mutter. "Flashing you was an accident."

"Well it's no accident how bad I want to fuck you." Yuta replies boldly, walking closer. "So are you in?"

Doyoung pipes up. "If you don't want to, you can walk out now. I promise, thing's wont be weird, we'll be fine."

You think over Doyoungs words for a minute, before looking back at Jungwoo. "I-"

You turn back to the other two. "I want to."

Yuta smiles, and Doyoung speaks again. "Are you sure?"

Jungwoo grabs your hand in his. "We're not trying to pressure you-"

"Jungwoo, I've wanted this for longer than you'd think." You admit, pressure off of your shoulders.

Yuta breaks the moment, pure lust in his eyes. "Get on the bed."

You do as told, laying down on the bed in excitement at the thought of what the three men are going to do to you. You had no idea what to expect.

Jungwoo settles on one side of you, rubbing you through your bottoms. “Thought you were too good for me, honestly. I’m little loser Jungwoo, and here you are, a sopping wet mess under me.”

“Told Jungwoo I wanted to fuck you the day we met.” Yuta reveals, seated on the opposite side. Yet, you're too caught up on his words.

“Really?”

“Yeah, baby. Told him we should get you in a little video too, what would you have said then?” He responds, and you flutter at the nickname.

“I had already thought of the title.” Jungwoo smirks. “Slutty college girl gets her tiny hole stretched by nerdy math tutors.”

“I’d pay to see that.” Doyoung comments, eyes locked on you.

“Of course you would.” Yuta teases, gaze full of pure lust.

You feel fuzzy already. “I-I would’ve said yes!”

“Are you sure?” Jungwoo asks condescendingly. Just because he wanted this as bad as you didn't mean he couldn't have a little fun. “I was just the nerd, remember? The nerd who watched you leave to get fucked by another guy while I was right here.”

You moan out at his vulgar words going straight to your core.

Doyoung takes a seat in the chair by Jungwoo's desk, seemingly content with watching. “We were all right here.”

Yuta grins, hands pulling at your shirt. “I would’ve pounded you into my mattress the minute you asked.”

You whine, the feverish desire taking over. “Wa-want that so bad.”

“Yeah? Want me to fuck you until you can’t walk tomorrow?”

You nod, overtaken with sheer desire.

Jungwoo suddenly leans down to capture your mouth in his, distracting how Yuta takes over and tugs your bottoms completely off. You shakily grab run your hands through his hair and he shivers when you touch him and gets slightly more aggressive with the kiss. He wants to be as close to you as he can, even if just for now.

You feel the air hit your bare cunt as you moan into Jungwoo's mouth. He smirks a little as Yuta shakes his head. "So wet just from a little kissing, who knew our friend was such a slut for us?"

You buck your hips off the bed, to which Yuta forcefully pushes your thighs back down. You're barely able to let out a yelp of surprise as the other male continues to meld his mouth with yours.

He’s clearly trying to keep the kiss going for as long as he can, he seems to be enjoying himself way too much. But you can't say you're complaining.

Jungwoo pulls off, moving his plush lips down to your neck as Yuta teasingly runs his fingers numbingly slow through your slit. "P-please stop teasing- umph!"

You're cut off as Yuta pushes a finger into you, quickly followed by another. He's agonizingly slow once again and you can barely handle yourself, "'S too much- too-"

"Oh so you want to give orders but when I follow through, now you're taking it back?" He moves his fingers inside you. "If you can't take my fingers, how are you supposed to take my cock?"

You moan at the thought of it, not knowing what he looked like under the belt should be considered pure torture, every other part of him was so alluring.

Jungwoo brings your attention back to him as he pulls your shirt up just enough to unclasp your bra, sliding both off with ease as you were too distracted to do it yourself.

"Your nipples are already so hard." He teases, though he goes to pinch one and that has you writhing. "Oh, they're even prettier than I imagined."

He continues to fondle one before putting his mouth on the other, sucking as Yuta continue to piston his fingers in and out of you, going faster by the minute.

You felt so good already, so overwhelmed that you weren't sure it could get any better, but oh were you so wrong.

You feel the familiar coil beginning to form in your stomach, unable to hold in your whines. "Don't stop, please,"

He doesn't, in fact he goes even faster. The pace matched with Jungwoo's mouth still on your boob makes you go dizzy fast.

Before you know it, you're feeling the coil snap and your release dripping out. But you were a fool if you thought they were going to stop.

Yuta continues to finger you damn near to heaven, Jungwoo's tongue jutting out to graze your nipple as he talks you through your climax.

But you're already halfway gone, "Want- want you inside,"

Yuta pulls his fingers out of you, and you clench around nothing as you whine at the sudden emptiness. Yuta doesn't seem too intent on giving it to you so easily though, "You want me inside?.. And what if I don't think you deserve it? What if I make you beg for it?"

You can feel tears well up in your eyes. "Please, please I'll beg. Please Yuta, I can't go another minute without your dick in me!"

Yuta smirks, satisfied with your response. He stands from the bed and pulls his shirt off, following by unzipping his pants. You watch intently as he does so, finally able to see his abs and that tattoo in all of its glory. You could feel yourself throbbing at the view.

"Condom," You whisper, almost like an afterthought, looking at Jungwoo. "Do you have any in here?"

Jungwoo nods, gesturing to Doyoung who sits by the nightstand. "Top right drawer."

Doyoung follows, throwing a package towards Yuta as he catches it before ripping it open with his teeth. Fuckkk that was so hot.

He wastes no time in sliding it over his length, positioning it outside your entrance. You hope he's about to enter but instead, like the tease he is, rubs your clit with his tip gently. Your body already trembling and he wasn't even inside yet.

"Beg," He commands as he continues his previous actions.

"Please! Oh please Yuta-" You chant his name like a mantra as he smiles down at you.

"Don't worry, I'll give you want you want." He speaks, pushing the plush head of his dick past your walls. "Not gonna stop till you're sore."

He continues to push himself farther in as Jungwoo rubs his thumb over your clit, how were they so in synch? Had they done this before?

Yuta finally bottoms out inside you, hissing as you clench around him. "Pussy so fucking tight for such a whore."

You groan as he starts to move, thrusting into you as you babble. Jungwoo's eyes land straight on where your tits bounce, obsessed with the view. God, he was gonna bust in his pants.

You can hear the slight tap of the headboard creaking as it hits the wall behind you, Yuta reaching up to grip it as leverage while he slams into you, and you're trying your hardest not to drool on Jungwoo's pillow.

The younger male smirks before he pulls you into a kiss, silencing your moans for the minute as his tongue explores your mouth.

You whine into Jungwoo's mouth as he continues to sloppily kiss you. Yuta never falters as he watches from behind, he never knew he could enjoy watching you so much. He's borderline obsessed with seeing you two make out while he's inside, he can't get enough.

Doyoung can't see as well from where he sits, but the sounds make up for it. The room filled with the sounds of your muffled moans and skin meeting skin, accompanied by Yuta's heavy groans and pants.

He's doing everything he can to not take his dick out and start palming it, convincing himself to just wait for his turn.

Yuta moved in and out of you, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout your body. You cried out as the pleasure became almost too much to bear, body quivering beneath him.

He doesn't let up though, too keen on seeing your pretty face all scrunched up. You were shaking as his movements started to go deeper and deeper into you, there was no way you were going to survive this.

"You feel that baby?" He groans. "Feel how hard you make me?"

You just nod, too focused on the task at hand.

He keeps going, "Look how hard Jungwoo is, he's leaking all over his bed."

You'd love to see, but you can't bring your eyes steady enough to look towards him. Jungwoo lets out a quiet whine at Yuta's words, clearly embarrassed.

"Don't get all shy Jungwoo." Doyoung interjects. "It's cute seeing you so worked up."

You moaned, despite the words not being directed towards you. Doyoung voice mixed with Yuta hitting your g spot brought you directly to another realm of heaven.

Yuta felt his body tremble as his release began to build, his mind spinning as his pleasure reached its peak. He couldn't believe he was really getting to have you like this, in all his wildest dreams come true. His fingers dug into your hips, anchoring him to you as the orgasm started to take over.

You separated from Jungwoo as you started to feel the falter in the others thrusts while feeling a similar build up, managing to sputter out a "Are you close?"

He nods, "Are -shit- you?"

You can barely respond before Jungwoo's bringing your lips back to his. He never wanted to stop kissing you, he couldn't.

You suddenly felt your orgasm rush through her body, your entire body trembling with pleasure. You clung to Jungwoo, fingers digging into his arms as the intensity of the moment hit you.

You gasped as you came, body shaking with the intensity of it, breathing heavily as the pleasure slowly ebbed away.

With a deep growl, Yuta followed as he gave one final thrust and released into the latex. Mind incredibly hazy as he collapsed beside you onto the bed. Breathing heavy as you will your eyes not to close.

He stares at your fucked out face, proud of the little number he did on you. He knows this was likely his first and last chance to see you like this, so he was going to relish in it.

Though, others didn't seem to agree with the slower paced approach, Doyoung moving the other male out of the way to climb onto the bed.

Surprisingly, you try to push yourself up. Though, you're still too unsure to ask for what you want. "Can I..."

"Can you what?" Doyoung mocks after you don't respond for a few seconds. "Closed mouths don't get fed."

Who knew he could be so mean?

"Can I ride you?" You blurt out.

He smirks. "Is that what you want?"

You nod, "Fuck, please Doyoung."

He laughs, leaning back on the head board as he slips his pants down. "Be my guest, if you think you can still hold yourself up."

You place your hands on his shoulders as you wobbly throw your legs over Doyoungs lap before pausing, "W-wait,"

The others immediately halt, awaiting your words.

"Jungwoo's still so hard, and he hasn't touched himself. I should help him." You let out, starting at the male who you started this all with.

"Yuta's got it." Doyoung speaks, while the other male composes himself. "Right?"

The oldest smirks, wordlessly reaching over as Jungwoo's face grows red. He wraps his hand around the base of the youngers shaft and starts moving, kitty licking the tip as Jungwoo moans out.

"D-don't stop, I want to see you and Doyoung." Jungwoo gasps, locking eyes with you before squirming at Yuta's actions. It's not like it was the first time they had done this, but it felt so different every time, especially now that he was taking him wholly in his mouth.

You grow wetter at the sight of your roommates getting each other off, now you see why they like to watch so badly. Yuta looked so pretty with his mouth full of cock while Jungwoo moaned like a bitch in heat and clawed at his bed sheets. Not to mention that Yuta had grown hard again, his own hand snaking down to touch himself.

Doyoung lines himself up, his tip pushing past your walls as you slowly sink down. The stretch burning slightly even though you had been fucked already. You couldn't help but hiss, he was just too big.

You bounce a few times as Doyoung digs his nails into your hips. He's more quiet than Yuta, but less composed. You weren't sure he'd have much to say if he could manage to talk. The most you catch from him are quiet groans and deep breaths.

His eyes don't leave your cunt, directed towards where your bodies meet. He's never felt anything so good, not even his state of the art toys his viewers brought him made him feel this way.

“Need it off.” You mutter, reaching below you towards Doyoung’s cock. He hisses as you pry at the tip, harshly pulling the rubber condom off. You throw the item across the room, bringing your hand back to sink down on him as the other boys watch in awe.

Jungwoo's quick to intervene, “But-”

“We’ll get her a Plan B.” Yuta reassures him as he comes up for air, and you take notice of the way Jungwoo’s face falls for some reason.

You continue bouncing as Doyoung grabs one of your boobs in his hands. You bite your lip at the feeling, mind already halfway to mush as you continue to spear yourself on his cock. “Feels so good.”

He growls as he meets your hips at an animalistic pace. He finally gains the reserve to speak. Teeth gritting, “You feel better than I imagined, slutty pussy dragging me in.”

Jungwoo pushes Yuta's head down farther as the other teases, while the other gags at the action. The sounds of slurping register in your ears as you look back that way. You almost cum at the sight.

Jungwoo's face twists as he releases into Yuta's mouth, the latter swallowing it without a qualm. Jungwoo can feel himself growing hard again though. The squelch of your body parts melding together has Jungwoo's head spinning even though he already came.

Yuta snarks as he gets onto his knees, pushing his dick into the youngers face. "Your turn, put those pretty lips to use."

Jungwoo's eyes never leave your body as he opens his mouth. Now, if you thought Yuta looked good like that, nothing compared to how Jungwoo looked. So pliant and content to be helping his friend out.

Doyoung brings your attention back to him as he grabs your jaw, "I'm giving it to you so good that you're shaking yet you're staring at them instead?"

You shake your head, grinding down harder on Doyoung's dick as you stop bouncing, knees growing sore. "I'm sorry-"

He scoffs, grip tightening on your jaw. "No you're not."

"I-" You huff, hearing Jungwoo's pretty noises echo in your head as you fight every bone in your body to turn and look.

"Shut up," He cuts you off. "Look at me when I'm fucking you."

You nod as he thrusts up into you. You whine as he holds you in place, using you like a flesh light of his own design. All you can do is take it, feeling his tip kiss your insides with every thrust. Felt like he was rearranging your guts.

He pounds into you with such vigor that you wonder how he has the strength for it all. You try your best to meet his thrusts but he hardly gives you time to.

You would've never guessed the unbothered Kim Doyoung would be into fucking this rough. The more you know, you guessed.

You shout out, "I'm cumming!"

His speed doesn't falter, and he continues fucking you through your second orgasm of the night. He continues as you whimper at your sensitivity, hoping he was close.

"P-pull out," You sputter out, suddenly reminded that you two were going at it raw.

"I will," He responds, before he's moaning out. "Fuck, lift up."

"O-okay." You say, pulling yourself up slightly as his cock springs back onto his abs, covering his stomach in his release.

"That was so hot." You admit, sitting on the bed.

He blinks, "Yeah?"

You barely manage to turn as Yuta shoots his load out onto Jungwoo's face. His face looking ethereal as licks some of it off of his lips.

Yuta's about to say something when Doyoung speaks, "Yuta, lets go take a bath."

Yuta looks confused, not catching the others hint. "Now?"

Doyoung rolls his eyes, "So we can clean up."

"You're hard again, aren't you?"

The other shoots him a glare, clenching his teeth. "Let's go."

He basically drags the other out of the room as you two watch in confusion. Yuta bids, "See you later."

You stay quiet, unable to move without your body aching. Though you feel sudden energy to keep going as you look beside you.

Jungwoo leans over you and brushes your hair out of your face, and it feels more apparent that its just the two of you in the room. “You okay?”

“I’m a little sore, but I’m fine.” You admit, wincing a bit as you move your legs in an attempt to sit up. Jungwoo shakes his head as he stops you though.

“If you're not feeling okay-" He starts but you quickly shut him down,

You tilt your head. "But I've waited so long for you."

However, you can barely focus on his words as you take in his disheveled appearance. God, you wanted to kiss him so badly. Again.

He grabs your chin gently, lifting it up to kiss you more, and you can almost taste Yuta on him. He takes his time as you feel the urge to press up against him, ignoring the pain in your legs that the others left in their wake.

“Baby, don’t tease me there.” He whines, stopping the kiss.

Yet you don’t cease your actions, wanting to hear more of his needy voice. “I want you so bad, Jungwoo.”

His eyes meet yours, hesitance behind them. “Really, are you sure?”

“Unless you don’t to-”

“No no, I want to.” He responds, meeting your lips again. He’s more sure of himself this time, hand snaking to touch your cunt.

You're one hundred percent sure you were in love with Jungwoo. But who was counting?

Before you knew what was happening, he was throbbing inside you. Your cunt spent from the other two, but so willing to take him in as well. He was much bigger than you imagined, but once he was inside you, it was like he lost all semblance of control.

You almost wanted to laugh, what happened to the Jungwoo that was being almost mean to you earlier? Was he so drained that he forgot?

He had you in missionary, long slow thrusts pressing into you as you whimper. He caged you under him, hand holding yours as he used the other for balance. He went in for another kiss again, soft like he was scared you were going to break.

Being with him felt different, of course the others felt good but there was a clear line drawn in the sand with them. Yuta was a performer, he got off to the others looking at him put on a show. Doyoung didn't seem like he was focused on you as much either, and was more about himself.

But Jungwoo? He seemed to be worried about you and only you.

"You're so pretty." He mutters, looking into your eyes.

"P-pretty?" You ask, his length still bullying into you.

"I think you're gorgeous." He confirms, wanting to go in for another kiss.

"Jungwoo..." You wrap your hands around his shoulders as you pull him closer. "I think I like you."

He looks shocked at this, pausing his strokes. "Really?"

You smile, "Yes, really."

"But I'm just me." He avoids eye contact. "You're out of my league and I'm just this dork who studies mechanics! And are you sure you like someone who films himself-"

You interrupt him with a kiss, slipping your tongue past his mouth as you only pull away when you need air. "I don't care about any of that, I like you."

He smiles, "If you hadn't noticed, I've had a thing for you since that day in class when you sat next to me. I was so bummed you weren't even in that class and was just hoping I saw you again."

"Well, I'm glad we found our way back to each other."

"Me too." He speaks before pressing his face into your neck, mumbling as he continues his actions.

You two continue in almost silence, basking in pure love for each other as only small whimpers echo throughout the room. Everything that needed to be said already had been. You two were definitely going to have a long talk after this.

Living with the boys was no longer temporary, it was now your permanent place of residence. Especially since you had packed up your things and moved into your boyfriends room, granting Yuta access back to his room.

Things had been going well. Midterms went smoothly, Jungwoo was great (The sex was too), and you had landed that job you applied for!

You had even made an appearance in your boyfriends job, with masks of course, but nonetheless his viewers ate it up. Now they even sent comments in begging you to start your own channel, but you think you're far from that.

Things weren't awkward with the boys either, in fact, it feels good to have everything open in the air. There weren't any secrets anymore and things just felt like they were almost back to normal.

Breaking the news to Mark and Haechan was definitely... a scene. Mark was heartbroken on Lee Jeno's behalf while Haechan was more worried about how he was the only friend who hadn't gotten to tap that. To which Mark corrected that he hadn't either, which just led to a mess of a conversation.

People were definitely caught off guard when the news of you together broke. Many thought the pairing was funny.

Those like Haechan and Mark thought you had gone mad. And Jungwoo's studious admirers shuddered at how he could be with someone as provocative as you. Ha! If only they knew.

Jungwoo placed an object in front of you, proud of his efforts. "Here it is, the finished scale model."

You pick up the small jet in your hands, giggling at its design. "I love it, it looks like a tiny plane."

"It's a fighter jet!" Doyoung corrects as he joins you both in the kitchen.

You roll your eyes, "I'm aware, I helped paint the stupid thing."

"Stupid?" Jungwoo gasps dramatically.

"That's not what I-"

"Nope." He stops you. "Too late, the damage has been done."

"Jungwoo, don't be dramatic." You plead, though his eyes are already bulging out of his head.

He places his hand on his chest as he pretends to be hurt. "I'm going to go cry and throw up in my room."

"Dear lord," You begin before he runs off to his room. You've grown used to his antics by now. "Guess I have to go reassure him now."

Doyoung snorts, "Gross."

"Not like that, you pervert!"

"Who said I even was talking about that! You made it all dirty!" He retorts back when Yuta enters the room.

"Contrary to popular belief, we don't just fuck every chance we get."

"Tell that to my ears! You guys keep me up most nights, it's so annoying." Yuta complains. "The walls are thin, you know!"

You giggle, walking out of the room to find your sulky boyfriend as you shrug. "Deal with it."

The two watch as you're out of sight, Doyoung pouring himself water for his tea. He notices the look on the others face as he pats him on the shoulder. "You ever regret it?"

"Regret what?"

"Not telling her."

Yuta sighs, looking down before he shakes his head. "No. Jungwoo makes her happy, and that's good enough for me."

Doyoung chuckles, "We could switch rooms, if you want."

"It's all good, It's not that bad."

"You like listening don't you-"

"I'm going to slap you if you finish that sentence."

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empresskylo · 8 months

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➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ➠ GUNSLINGER SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X AFAB!READER ➠ afab!reader. kinda mean!ghost. blood. gun violence. gore. smut. p in v. sex without protection. wild west au. wc 5.9k. ➠SUMMARY | you find yourself getting tangled up in the mission of a group of outlaw cowboys and ghost doesn't seem to take a liking to you. that is until you get hurt. ➠AUTHOR'S NOTE | cowboy ghost! cowboy ghost! cowboy ghost!

gunslinger ghost image cr ✩ 𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

you flipped another coin onto the bar, thanking the bartender as he refilled your glass with whiskey. you turned and leaned back, taking a sip of your drink. the high-noon light poured into the saloon, dust particles sparkling in its rays.

you played with the gun in your holster aimlessly as a group of men you’ve never seen before walked in. they pushed through the batwing doors and took in their surroundings, appraising the people of al mazrah. the piano stopped momentarily, synchronizing with the speechlessness of the room.

your eyes glazed over several cowboys, all with their own unique getup. but the one that drew your attention the most was a man donning a red skull mask. it reflected the midday sun and piqued your curiosity. he stood behind the others, his head not scanning the saloon like his friends were. you felt his eyes settle on you and your cheeks went hot at the attention.

they all approached the bar and you kept your eyes locked on them in a challenge. “afternoon, ma’am,” the only man in the group without some form of face covering said, tipping his hat as he did.

you glanced up at him, narrowing your eyes before taking a swig of your drink. “can i help you boys?”

the other three men gathered around, one of them–the youngest looking of the bunch–leaned on the bartop and waved two fingers in the air to gain the bartender's attention. “whiskey neat,” you heard him order. it made the corner of your lip quirk upwards.

“that depends,” he drawled. “we’re lookin’ for a wanted man.” he slid a wanted poster onto the bartop and you turned to look at it. you traced over the sketch’s features and the man’s name, all the while you could feel eyes burning through you.

you turned back to the man. “i don’t recognize his likeness, but his name sounds familiar.”

“yeah?”

“i think i’ve heard of him and his men causing trouble up the bend at the neighboring town. ‘bout 20 miles from here, give or take.”

he reached up and scratched his overgrown stubble. “well, that helped plenty. thanks…” he drew out the word, waiting for you to introduce yourself.

you accepted his extended hand and told him your name, your eyes flickering behind him to the man in the red skull mask. “john,” he said back to you, his free hand tipping his hat down again but in a thanks this time.

you wondered who these men were working for. they didn’t exactly look like your typical bounty hunters. they were far more intimidating than that. their gear more intricate and sharp.

“gaz, pay the man. we’re leaving,” john said. gaz downed his whiskey and threw a few coins on the counter before following his friends out.

you watched as they drew everyone’s attention as they strolled out of the saloon. you were torn back and forth between doing something very thoughtless and stupid. you looked at the bartender–someone who had listened to you drone on and on about how nothing interesting ever happened in this town. he gave you a nod as he wiped down a glass, a sly smile forming on his lips.

“ shit ,” you muttered as you pushed yourself away from the bar and scurried outside.

the men were mounting their horses off to the side of the building. your boots echoed off the wooden porch as you hurried towards them. the men looked up at you as you jostled down the stairs and to the dirt road.

john raised a brow at you, a small smile creeping on his lips.

“i, uhm…” you hesitated. you summoned the courage inside of you–mainly from the whiskey–as john patiently waited for you to speak. “i was hopin’ i could come along.”

john smiled at you, his rough hands holding onto the reigns of his horse. “and why might we allow that?”

you stood up a bit taller. “i know i’m a woman, but–”

“didn’t say nothin’ ‘bout you bein’ a woman.”

you pursed your lips. the men’s eyes tentatively watched you as they each half-focused on what they were doing before you came storming over. “i’m a good shot. i have nothin’ left for me here,” you gestured around the desolate town. “i’d like to help.”

john looked pensive. “no,” a deep, guttural voice said. your eyes flickered to the man in the skull mask and grimaced.

“don’t mind ghost. he’s not used to new company.” ghost . a chill ran up your spine at the name. these were no average bounty hunters you’d be getting yourself involved in, that was definitely clear now. it was like john could read your thoughts. “can’t guarantee your safety… but i don’t see why not. ”

you nodded. “that’s alright. i know the risks.”

ghost grumbled something and rode off. the other three men ignored him, like they were used to his grumpy behavior. “this here is gaz and soap,” john said, pointing to each man respectively.

you smiled at them. “got yourself a horse?” soap asked you, pulling his bandana down so you could see his mouth move as he talked. you nodded, your heart racing at the promise of adventure.

you adjusted your hat as you followed closely behind the men on horseback. you felt like you stuck out like a sore thumb. the men were absent of all colors apart from ghost’s red skull mask. they each had on a black outfit, paired with black boots, and a black hat. you, on the other hand, had on a dirty brown jacket, brown boots, faded blue pants, and a sunbleached hat. you never would have thought your outfit would seem almost colorful.

you galloped closer to john, al mazrah getting smaller and smaller as you rode further away from the town.

“heard people talkin’ ‘bout some bandits robbing folk around the bend comin’ up.”

john glanced at you before shifting his eyes to soap who was in hearing range.

“woulda been nice to know that a bit earlier,” a deep voice said. you turned to see ghost riding at your side, his eyes bright against the black on his skin. you felt your chest tighten.

“i-i didn’t think of it. didn’t realize where we were till i saw the hill in the bend in the road up ahead.”

ghost grunted, looking over at john who sat opposite of you. “no use arguing ‘bout it now,” he placated.

before he could open his mouth to continue, a gunshot rang in your ear. your eyes widened as you looked forward, stupefied. your ears rang and your hands came up to clamp over your ears before you yelped in pain. you could hear the soft rumble of more gunshots going off, but it was like you were stuck in your own little bubble.

you pulled your hands down and looked at them, blood covering your left hand.

oh my god , you thought. you were shot.

you heard your name coming in louder and louder until you finally could hear clearly again. you looked up to ghost who was grabbing your arm and yelling your name. his other hand held his shotgun, extended as he pulled it, and shot a bandit in the chest, knocking him off his horse.

“focus!” he shouted. you nodded and locked eyes.

“i’m okay,” you said. you knew the bullet must have hit skin, or you wouldn’t be bleeding, but it was just a graze.

“your gun!” he growled.

you shook your head to come to your senses and pulled your gun from it’s holster. ghost’s hand left you and you felt a chill run through your arm at the loss.

you aimed to shoot one of the bandits immediately before he had time to raise his own gun at soap. your eyes moved and you saw john jump off his horse and tackle a man to the ground, knocking him out cold with a few punches.

soap was aiming up on the hill, taking out a couple of men stationed there. they were waiting for someone stupid enough to come trotting down their trail. you felt like shit for not remembering this crucial bit of information until it was too late.

you shot another bandit, riding your horse further up the road. you spotted ghost as he shot down a bandit coming at him before loading his gun in no time at all, then shooting the man riding up on gaz’s tail. another man came up from behind him and ghost had his knife in his hand and sliced across the man’s throat before you could even blink.

you were no stranger to violence, but these men were cold-blooded killers, you’d be stupid to not feel a trace of formidable fear run up your spine.

the gunshots slowly simmered down and the five of you found yourselves coming back together. you slid off your horse as the others did. “jesus,” gaz mumbled, his breathing slightly heavy.

ghost flung himself off his horse and stormed up to you, grabbing your arm like he did earlier, and turning you to him.

“what–?”

his gloved hand came up to your jaw and turned your head so he could see the drying blood that coated your ear. “fuckin’ hell. you coulda been killed.”

“yes, thank you. so glad i have you to point that out,” you snarled.

john, soap, and gaz were busy talking, likely going over the group's next course of actions, and paid no mind to you and ghost as he hissed at you.

“what's your problem with me?”

ghost released you and took a step back. “what’s my problem with you?” it was just now that you could really hear his accent. he wasn’t from around here, that was for sure.

you nodded.

“not keen on having to babysit.”

your eyes blared with heat, your fists clenching. “fuckin’ hell! you barely know me! i’ve done nothing that says i’m not up for this,” you gestured around you, “so i got shot unexpectedly, i hardly think that's my fault.”

he just stared at you, which honestly, frustrated you even more.

“you ever take that stupid thing off?” you asked, referring to his mask. god, you were proving him right–you were acting like a baby.

“why? you wanna know what's underneath?”

his husky voice made your chest flutter. there was something about the combination of his terrifying appearance, his deep voice, and the way he seemed utterly concerned for your safety. it was doing things to your insides that you didn’t appreciate.

he leaned in closer. “does it unsettle you, pet?” he asked, referring to his mask.

frankly, it did. his entire body was covered from head to toe. the only bit of him you saw was his eyes, and even those were darkened with charcoal. maybe you were stupid to trust these men. it was just hitting you now that you were with a group of insanely skilled men. alone .

it was as if ghost could read the sudden hesitation and regret that filled your features. his voice was low as he spoke. “we won’t hurt ya.” you swallowed hard. you should leave while it’s still daylight. “ not unless you ask. ”

your jaw would have fallen slack if you weren’t wound up so tight from ghost standing so close. he slid past you and you turned, starstruck, forcing your feet to move so you were standing in a circle with the men.

“we’re only a few miles out from town. and clearly, we’re at a disadvantage,” john spoke. “we should split up and surround the town, figure out if hassan is there. and locate his base. it’s our best bet.”

soap and gaz nodded.

“good,” john said in response to the agreement for his plan. “i’ll flank west. soap you go right. gaz you can take the southern part of town. ghost, north.”

you looked up at john expectantly. he went to open his mouth–to invite you to tag along with him you assumed–but ghost beat him to it. “she’ll come with me.” it wasn’t a question. and you hated that it sparked something inside you.

john nodded. “we got a few more hours of daylight left. let's go. we’ll convene in the center of town.”

you trailed behind ghost on your horse. you two had gone off the road and were currently riding over the rough terrain of the surrounding woods. the sun was slowly setting and you found it hard to see your footing with all the shadows the trees cast.

“so what’d you want with this guy anyways?” you asked ghost, breaking the silence.

“he’s the enemy,” he said flatly.

you rolled your eyes. “yeah. i get that. but why exactly are you–”

he cut you off with a single finger to his lips, his eyes gesturing in front of him. you immediately went silent, slowly reaching for your gun.

you both paused on your horses, sitting still, listening. you felt your heartbeat racing in your chest.

that's when you saw movement in the distance. “ghost! behind you–”

your warning was muffled as a hand wrapped around your face, covering your mouth, and yanking you off your horse. you slashed back and forth, trying to fight off whoever had you in their grip.

you kicked backward, hitting them in the knee, and they finally dropped you to the ground. “fuckin’ bitch!”

you spun around, stumbling to your feet and grabbing your gun out of its holster. it was just one guy. you could take him.

as you raised your gun, another man appeared beside him. your eyes widened. okay, this was going to be harder than you thought.

“i wouldn’t do that if i was you,” the other man said.

you gulped. before you could fully raise your hand, a third man knocked the gun from your hand and twisted your arm, holding you against him. “you don’t like to listen, do ya?”

you showed your teeth as you struggled against him. you kicked and squirmed as you felt the air begin to slip from you.

suddenly, the man around you went slack, his arm falling, and hot liquid trailed your back. you turned and watched the man sink to the ground, grabbing at the slit in his throat. behind him towered ghost.

he had blood on his mask and he was breathing so rapidly you could see his chest moving up and down under all his layers.

you didn’t have long to take him in before he pushed you aside and began fighting the other two men. you scanned behind you and saw two other bodies sprawled on the rocky ground. he had already taken down three men. your eyes widened.

“go!” he shouted at you. in the quick second he was distracted, one of the bandits managed to get a swing in and hit ghost right under his jaw.

you mustered the courage inside yourself and you sprinted at the three men. you jumped on one of them, flying to the ground with him, landing atop him. his hand reached out and wrapped around your neck but you were faster. your knife was already plowing into the side of his skull. his hand fell loosely to his side.

you huffed as you climbed off of him. ghost’s hands struggled but he managed to get them on the man’s head that he was fighting and in a quick and sharp twist, he broke his neck.

you gasped slightly, the air falling silent around you two. his hands were clenched at his side as you both stared at one another among the carnage.

“i told you to go.”

“and i didn’t want to,” you responded. how was he going to be mad that you helped him?

you huffed and bent over to rip the knife from the man’s skull and slid it back into its sheath. as you stood straight, ghost was pushing you against a tree. you yelped as he pinned you back.

“these aren’t just normal men,” he growled.

you searched his eyes. you hoped he couldn’t hear your heart racing. “we handled it, didn’t we?”

ghost shook his head in annoyance, his body still entraping yours. “and if we hadn’t? if you had gotten yourself killed?”

you gave him an exacerbated look. “then i’d be dead. i don’t know what you want me to tell you.”

ghost pushed away from you and began walking back to his horse. “i want you to tell me you’ll listen next time i tell you to go.”

you hesitated before you found your way back to your own steed. “why do you care so much?” you had come along to help. and that’s what you planned on doing. ghost wasn’t the boss of you.

he didn’t respond and you rode the rest of the way in silence.

it didn't take much longer to get into town. and it took an even shorter amount of time to find out hassan wasn’t here. you and the rest of the men met up in the middle of town, just like john had told you.

“y’all run into trouble?” he asked you and ghost, noticing the blood on both of your clothes.

“nothin’ we couldn’t handle,” you answered.

john’s gaze met ghost’s momentarily and he smirked. john could tell you were driving ghost crazy, just from your short interactions. he liked that someone was getting this reaction from him. it felt like so long since he had seen ghost have any sort of emotional response.

“think we should camp here for the night,” john added.

the five of you went into the town’s saloon and the men went straight to the bar. drinks were ordered and you shifted uncomfortably, playing with the glass of whiskey in your hand.

two women dressed in silky gowns, the cut of their dresses low and tight enough to expose their chests, strolled up to your group. “haven’t seen you boys before,” the blonde one said. you were in saloons enough to recognize prostitutes when you saw them.

“just passin’ through,” gaz spoke. the ladies smiled and one of their hands came out and traced along gaz’s collar.

“you look like you could use a little pick me up,” she said sweetly.

you saw where this was going and you felt yourself grow uncomfortable. “i think i’m gonna go to my room,” you mumbled. john saluted you off, his attention going back to soap as they talked. one of the girls made her way to ghost and you hated that a pang of jealousy coursed through you as she sat on his lap.

his eyes flickered to you as the woman whispered in his ear. the saloon was filled with a cacophony of noise, music playing loudly, and the sound of the girls giggling. no one but ghost had even paid attention to you leaving. and you really couldn’t hold it against any of them. you barely knew them. you weren’t friends yet.

you felt your breath hitch as the woman reached her hand out to trace ghost’s mask, his hand catching her wrist. you wanted to turn to finish going up the stairs but your eyes were locked in challenge with his.

he nudged the girl off his lap and she huffed slightly before turning her attention to soap. your face felt inflamed as you turned and went up the stairs, slipping off into one of the rooms the lot of you had paid for.

why were you so attracted to ghost? he was intimidating, scary even. and you had no idea what he looked like. not even his hands or neck.

you sighed as you cleaned up, stripping your clothes down into your undergarments, washing the stain from your jacket, and hanging it against the wooden bedframe to dry.

the room was small but comfortable. you let your hair down and washed your face with the bucket of water. you wore your undershirt and underwear, everything else was either drying or removed so you could sleep comfortably.

you were ready to slip into bed when you hear footsteps stumbling past your room. you wondered if it was one of the men. you heard a woman’s voice and that same, uncomfortable feeling squeezed your chest. maybe it was ghost bringing one of the women back to his room.

you walked to your door and your hand hovered over the doorknob. you wanted to peek out, just to see. to see if it was ghost, or one of the others from downstairs. you were being crazy, you knew it. but you pulled the door open ever so slightly and peered out. you jumped, a loud yelp escaping you as a large ghost stood in your doorway.

he deftly pushed your door open and made his way inside your small room. he kicked it closed behind him, his eyes trailing your exposed body shadowed by the small glow of the few candles by your bedside.

“ghost,” you breathed, unsure of what else to say. you could smell whiskey on him as he walked closer. you looked up at him, his eyes piercing your own. his mask still had blood on it. and the way the shadows of the room illuminated and hid his features was haunting.

“were you jealous?” he said.

you were taken aback but his question. you almost laughed. what on earth was happening? ghost just barged inside your room and was asking if you were jealous. of what? the woman on his lap earlier? why would he think that?

“did you hear a woman outside your door and open it to see if it was me who was bedding one of the whores?”

your mouth hung open at his forward words. that was one thing you came to know about ghost: he said whatever the fuck he was thinking.

“i… i…” you stuttered.

ghost spun you around, slamming you against the wall, one hand coming out beside your head, the other on your hip. you were startled, unsure of what to say or do. ghost’s hand on your hip slid down to the apex of your thighs, slowly slipping between them and pressing against you. you gasped.

“tell me. were. you. jealous? ”

you swallowed hard before nodding. “y-yes.”

you could almost hear the smile in his voice as he hummed. he rubbed you a few times over your underwear before backing away slightly and removing his gloves. your marvled at his hands before they were lost between your legs again.

he slipped one into your panties and circled your clit. your hands finally came out and grabbed onto his shoulders, small little noises escaping you.

“mhmmm,” he hummed, “already so wet for me, pet.” one of his fingers slid inside your heat painfully slow and your eyes rolled back. he pumped his finger a few times before pulling out of you. your eyes focused back on him as he nudged his mask up and slid his finger into his mouth. you could see the stubble on his chin and the soft pink of his lips.

when he pulled his finger out, he spoke. “still want to see what i look like?” he teased.

you nodded. he didn't move, waiting for you to take initiative. your hands crept up and you peeled his mask off–the cloth covering and the hard red skull. you tossed it onto the floor and were faced with a beautiful man. he was both rugged and pretty. it almost hurt to look at him.

he had a scar running below his eye and one slicing his upper lip. his eyes were smoked out in black that smudged his skin and ran down his face from sweat. his hair was surprisingly light and soft looking. you couldn’t help yourself as you ran your hand up the back of his head and into his hair.

you didn’t say it, but ghost could see the way you were taking his features in. you were pleased. pleasantly surprised.

his lips came down on yours, crushing against you and pushing you flat against the wall. his mouth moved in sync with yours, making you groan against him. his hand slid into your hair and grabbed it, pulling your head back to expose your neck to him. he began to place kisses there and you felt your legs squeeze together.

“never wanted anyone so bad in my life,” he grumbled against your skin. you felt your heart race at the confession. it made your head dizzy to think this terrifying killer wanted you . he wanted you so bad he couldn’t help himself. he was so set on you that he didn’t give a shit how many women came onto him downstairs at the bar. he just wanted to get up to your room and throw you against the wall. no stranger had even consumed his thoughts like this.

his rough hand ran up your front and grabbed the hem of your loose undershirt before pulling it off your body. he stood back and looked at you, licking his lips.

before you had time to feel self-conscious, his mouth was diving for your chest and sucking one of your nipples into his mouth. you let out a breathless moan, your hands running through his hair. his hands slid to your ass and squeezed, pulling your hips against him. you could feel him tenting through his pants.

before you could even think, he was on his knees, yanking your underwear all the way down your legs. you felt a weird sense of excitement course through you seeing him still fully dressed, knelt before you, while you were completely naked.

he grabbed one of your legs and pulled it so you bent it over his shoulder. then his face was pleasantly nestled between your thighs. he sucked and licked at you and you threw your head back against the wall in a cry. “g-god.”

you could feel him smile against you. his stubble tickled you as his tongue moved in and out of you, then traced you up and down, before repeating the actions. you actually felt like you couldn’t breathe. and when two of his fingers came up to slide inside you while his mouth worked your clit, you felt your chest tighten and a hot flutter pool at the base of your spine.

“lemme hear you,” he grunted. you panted and moaned as he continued to work his mouth against you. it didn’t take long before you were shaking and crying out. your hands gripped the wall behind you, your nails digging into the wood.

ghost worked you through your orgasm, lapping every drop of you up until you were begging him to stop.

you didn’t have a real chance to catch your breath and really take in what was happening because ghost was shoving you down onto your knees before him. he was undoing his belt, his lips glistening. you hesitantly reached up and replaced his hands. he let you take over and you unbuttoned and unzipped his dark trousers, releasing his cock from its restraints.

you swallowed at his size, your eyes widening slightly. you heard ghost chuckle above you. annoyed that he was somehow getting satisfaction out of your surprise and tentativeness, you took him in your mouth without warning. ghost’s chuckle turned into a choked groan.

you bobbed up and down, not taking your time at all, your hand coming up to wrap around the base of him to move in sync with your mouth. you could hear him panting as you slid your tongue up and down, swirling it around the tip before sinking him back deep inside of you.

he swore under his breath as you pumped him a few times, kissing the tip of his cock already leaking with precum. when you took him in your mouth again, his hand fisted your hair and his hips swung forward, rutting himself into you.

you braced a hand against his thigh as he took control, moving in and out of your mouth at a faster speed than you were taking him moments ago. he hit the back of your throat and you swallowed so you wouldn’t choke and his head flew back and he moaned uncontrollably.

you coughed and tried to catch your breath as he pulled out of you. tears were running down your face and you wiped your mouth. his fingers slid under your chin and tilted your head up towards him.

“you’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me, pet.” his thumb traced your bottom lip as he studied you, face flushed and glowing, tears making your eyes sparkle, your lips swollen and red, sat back on your haunches as you looked up. you were a marvel.

he pulled you up and pushed you onto your bed. you watched as he crawled on top of you. your hands slid to his shirt and vest and you began to unbutton them. “want this off,” you muttered.

his eyes searched yours for a moment, hesitating before he did what you wanted and stripped his top bare. it was hard to see in the dim light but you could tell he had scarring along his chest and back. you wondered if he was somehow ashamed or embarrassed by them and that’s why he contemplated removing his shirt or not.

he settled back between your legs and you traced one of the scars on his shoulders before looking up at him. he was already looking at you, his eyes boring into your own. “how’d you get this?” you asked.

he tilted his head, his hand brushing the side of your hair then cupping your cheek. “bounty hunting.” you looked at him expectantly. “he had me pinned down, tried to slit my throat. i kicked him from underneath and it made him miss. still hurt like a bitch though,” he said with a bit of faux mirth.

you pulled him down to kiss you, his lips moving softer against you than earlier, gentle, but still just as hungry.

he rolled his hips against you and you both groaned. “i need to fuck you so bad,” he said against your mouth.

“so do it then.”

his eyes flared as he pulled back and looked at you. his hands shuffled his pants the rest of the way off and he lined himself up with your entrance. your hands wrapped around his back as he began to ease his way into you.

you squeezed your eyes shut as he edged further in. he paused when he saw you. “am i hurting you?”

you shook your head. “no. keep going.” he gave you a questioning look, not sure if you were lying or not before he pushed all the way in. you both gasped as he sank as far as he could go.

you both panted, trying to catch your breaths as he let you adjust to his size. he tested the waters by pulling out a little bit and pushing back in. he groaned deep in his chest as you spasmed around him, unused to someone of his size.

“fuckin’ hell,” he said to himself. he knew he wasn’t going to last long. but fuck, he wanted to get you off at least one more time.

he began to thrust in and out of you, doing a little more each time until he was almost pulling all the way out before thrusting back against your hips.

the pain subsided and all you felt was ripples of pleasure as he moved inside of you. your nails dug into his back, your legs hooking around him and urging him to go faster.

“you feel so good,” he mumbled against your neck. you mewled and threw your head back against the mattress as he relentlessly pounded into you, going rather hard now that you seemed to take him okay. the wooden bedframe crashed against the wall, thumping with the beat of his hips, but neither of you had it in you to care.

he picked up speed and you gasped, “ah!”

he stopped moving. “shit, did i hurt you?”

“no, no! keep going. move! fuck, please,” you said desperately. ghost chuckled before moving again, hitting you deep with each thrust.

his smile quickly faded as he tried to stop himself from finishing too early. his hand slid between your bodies and began to rub your clit. your legs went outwards, letting him get you even deeper, and your walls spasmed around his cock. you felt yourself getting close.

you were muttering all kinds of obscenities under your breath and ghost was growling and panting as he rutted against you. “you feel–fuck–so much better than i thought.”

your fingers ran through his hair and he kissed you again. “fuck, ghost,” you moaned.

“simon.” you opened your eyes to look at him. “my name is simon.”

your eyes never left his as you whispered his name, the ‘n’ of it raising in octave as he thrusted into you. your eyes began to flutter again but one of his hands grabbed your jaw. “keep your eyes on me,” he demanded.

his dark eyes were intoxicating as they glowed in the candlelight, the dark makeup around them making them that much more captivating. his hair was disheveled from all the times your fingers ran through it. you were certain you had never seen anyone so handsome.

“i’m gonna come,” he growled. your breath picked up speed and your mouth hung open in breathy pants and little moans.

“come in me,” you pleaded. before he could even respond, your soft voice saying something so obscene had him tumbling over the edge. his finger on your clit kept moving as he spurted inside you.

you felt your legs shake and your walls clench down on him, dragging out his orgasm as he made sounds like he was in pain.

you kept your eyes locked on him as you cried out, though you found it a difficult task. you felt his warmth fill you as you shuttered around his cock. he continued to thrust through both of your highs, a guttural groan escaping him each time your hips connected.

when you both seemed to settle down, your highs coming to a blissful end, he collapsed on top of you, his face buried in your neck, breathing you in.

your hands traced absentmindedly up and down his arm as he pressed himself against you. a few minutes later he rolled over and slid out of you, white seeping out and onto the sheets. he gave you a satisfied grin as he looked between your legs. you felt oddly shy.

he laid back into your pillow and pulled you against him, wrapping his arms tightly around you. you still couldn’t fathom the fact that this man who seemed to hate you for no reason was actually extremely attracted to you and just ravished the fuck out of you. and he was far kinder in bed than you would have imagined.

you liked the feeling of security as he possessively held you to him, his hand in your hair.

you tilted your head up to him. “you might want to go back to your room,” you muttered.

“why?”

you felt your face heat. “we probably don’t want the others to find out…” this was a whole new type of situation for you, and you weren’t sure you wanted the whole group to know you and ghost just fucked, only hours after meeting one another.

he laughed. “i think they already know, pet. we weren’t exactly quiet.”

“oh my god,” you said in mortification, bringing your hands up to cover your face.

2K notes · View notes

abyssruler · 2 years

Text

breaking up, breaking down

pairing/s: albedo, childe, diluc, kazuha, scaramouche, xiao, venti, zhongli x gn!reader

summary: if there’s anything you can expect to be consistent in life, it’s that everything has an end. or — genshin men and how they are after you break up with them.

note: angsty in everyone’s part, but it got too lighthearted in childe’s bc i simply cannot take that ginger seriously (affectionate)

ALBEDO

There aren’t any notable changes to his routine. He’d still go about his day, working on his experiments and scribbling down notes, occasionally taking a break to sketch a pretty flower he saw or the wing pattern of a passing butterfly.

And then he finds himself drawing the outline of an eye, then a nose, then lips. Until he suddenly stops in the middle of drawing a strand of your hair blowing in the wind, your face frozen in a smile staring back at him through the canvas of his sketchbook.

It hits him then, the realization, the heart-wrenching clarity of what happened that leaves him sitting in his chair, staring at your face in paper and wondering where he went wrong.

He tries to distract himself by continuing his research, but his mind has a hard time focusing on what needs to be done. It’s agonizing, he doesn’t think he’s felt this way before, never even thought he’d ever feel such pain. In a way, he’s glad his master isn’t here to make a study of what emotional pain means to an artificial human like him.

He sees you two weeks after you broke up with him, laughing as you tried to haggle with a merchant for their wares, unaware of the charm you exude that draws people in like moths to a flame. But then your gaze moves, searching through the crowd—and Albedo should really leave now, avoid barging into your life because there simply isn’t a place for him there anymore—but he does none of that.

Your eyes meet. He doesn’t think he was imagining it when he saw yours dim for the briefest moment. (His heart hurts. Why are you looking at him like that?)

You make your way through the busy street to reach him. He tells himself he should leave, but for the first time in his life, he does what contradicts his logic and stays.

“You look good,” you tell him, something melancholic in the tone of your voice. Oh, if only you knew.

“You as well.” He wants to say more, wants to say how radiant you looked under the sun, the light hitting you in just the right way that has him itching to grab a pencil and immortalize the image in paper—but he holds his tongue. “I need to go.”

Your face falls. He wishes he wasn’t the cause of it. “Ah, right. You must be busy, as usual.” There isn’t a hint of bitterness to your voice, just resignation.

He leaves after bidding you goodbye, feeling the heat of your gaze at his back as he walked away.

CHILDE

He wants you and he will do everything in his power to have you back.

In the early days after you broke up, you won’t hear a word from him. Not a peep. You only hear passing news that dead monsters and hilichurl camps near the vicinity of your home have been utterly eradicated. Passing travelers claim how the areas were ‘strangely flooded’ even though it hasn’t rained in weeks.

Then come the gifts. From flowers to clothes to accessories to different delicacies that are all worth more than your entire life’s paycheck. And when that doesn’t work, Childe sets to work on his recruits.

You suddenly find yourself constantly being approached by a startling amount of Fatui recruits ranging from normal lackies to gunners to cicin mages, and even that one memorable time when a mirror maiden approached you in the middle of buying groceries and proceeded to buy everything in the store, saying all of it was for you.

The Fatui recruits had one thing in common: they all had nothing but praises to say for the Eleventh Fatui Harbinger.

“Master Childe defeated all the recruits in under ten seconds!” “Have you heard how Lord Harbinger killed twenty geovishaps and came out without a single scratch?” “I saw him buying that exact same shirt yesterday, it cost one million mora! He’s so rich!” “Lord Tartaglia has been so down lately. He keeps saying how much he misses his beloved.”

“Did you know? Even Lady Signora wept after she heard that you and Master Childe broke up.” That one, you’re certain never actually happened, and you made sure to tell that with an unimpressed look to the pyro agent who told you. As if Signora would ever cry, she’d probably throw a party for you for finally leaving Childe.

In the end, after cycling through so many recruits, he had no choice but to come to you directly.

…Which is how you woke up at six in the morning to the ground shaking and the sound of an eerily familiar laugh right outside your house.

You open your window to find Childe fighting a lawachurl right in front of your house, a ring of Fatuus surrounding and cheering him on. His smile brightens to an almost comical degree once he sees you and your bedhead squinting out from a window.

“You look so stunning today, beloved!” He steps back from an earth-shattering punch by the lawachurl. “I’ve brought you the biggest lawachurl I could find so I can show you how worthy I am of you!”

He then proceeds to—and you have to blink a few times to see if you’re not hallucinating—fist fight the lawachurl. And he’s actually winning. No vision, no weapon. Just his bare fists.

When the commotion wakes up your entire neighborhood, you have to go down there and yell at him to stop or take this fight somewhere that isn’t right in front of your house! He complies with a grin and a promise saying he’ll meet you later.

There’s something fond curling in your chest that you try and fail to smother. With an exasperated tone, you tell him that yes, you’ll find time in your busy schedule to meet him. He lights up like you just agreed to marry him and yells out rapid orders in Snezhnayan to his recruits.

“I’ll see you later!” He blows a kiss in your direction that you ignore. You turn away and walk back into your house, trying (and failing) to fight the growing smile on your face.

DILUC

It’s not evident to anyone who doesn’t know him well, but Diluc takes it close to heart and buries it among countless other regrets that have accumulated in his life. The turbulent feelings that threaten to overcome his mind at any hour of the day manifests itself in him becoming more withdrawn.

He’s gloomy, more brooding than usual, and the reason becomes apparent once the other patrons notice the lack of a certain person who usually sits by the bar during his shifts. Your usual laugh accompanied by teasing grins and playful swats at his long hair when you think no one is looking are nowhere to be seen.

One particularly drunk person had come up to him as he was wiping down the counters and asked why you weren’t there. Anyone who had been there to see the sight would tell you that he didn’t say anything, hadn’t been able to say anything. He just… stood there, hands frozen mid-motion and eyes drawn somewhere, lost in thought.

He slips up sometimes. Asks the maids to prepare a dinner for two only to stop in the middle of talking as he realizes what he just said. At breakfast, he pauses in the middle of reading his daily papers to turn his head to the right, a question on the tip of his tongue that dies when he sees the empty spot you usually occupied. It’s the pitying gazes that follow when he slips up that he hates the most.

He makes your favorite drink sometimes, on the days when he’s on shift and feeling particularly self-destructive. It stays hidden under the bar counter, hoping against hope that you’ll walk through the door and greet him with an upbeat ‘good evening!’ that makes his day all the more better. You never do.

It’s on a bright, sunny morning when he’s out overseeing the delivery of wine to the tavern that he sees you again. His heart soars for all but a second before it comes crashing down, because Diluc Ragnvindr does not deserve nice things.

You’re holding the hand of some nondescript man, grinning and laughing and emitting such a great sense of contentment that he can almost feel it from where he’s standing meters away from you.

You’re happy. It’s been months and he’s still wallowing in old hurts. You’re happy.

Did you ever smile like that when you were with him? He likes to think so, but the realistic, pessimistic thought is that you’re probably better off not being with him. You’re happy. Happier now than you were when you were with him.

Everything he’s ever loved has been hurt directly and indirectly by his hands. He turns away from the sight of you and pretends to be preoccupied with his task. Maybe it’s for the best that you left before it could happen.

KAZUHA

He tries not to take it to heart. He understands why you left, knows it before you even made the decision to leave. And in the aftermath, much like a leaf adrift in the wind, he roams about aimlessly, lost in thought.

Grief is not an emotion he’s unfamiliar with. As he sits by the cliffs overlooking the endless ocean, grief burrows its way to his chest like an old, unwelcome friend. He doesn’t fight it. He’s learned the hard way that fighting it is a losing battle, like picking at a scab, hoping that doing so will make it heal faster, yet only succeeding in worsening the wound.

Kazuha isn’t a stranger to loneliness, of letting the wind kiss his tears away as they dried on his cheeks. He is, however, unfamiliar with this new kind of ache in his chest. And only after much rumination does he conclude what it might be.

The loss of his family, the loss of his heritage, the loss of his friend, and now, the loss of his lover. A master of loss, he could almost call himself. His old friend would certainly find such a title amusing.

He finds himself writing letters to you, even with the knowledge that he’ll never be able to send them to you. It’s the thought that comforts him, the pretense that he still has someone to tell of his travels, someone to simply come home to, even when he knows he isn’t welcome anymore.

In his weakest moment, when he had too much to drink and too little self-restraint, he sends one of the letters to you. He’s forgotten whether it’s the one where he laments the loss of your presence, the one where he begs you to have him back, or the one where only three words are written, a small blot in the ink where a stray tear had fallen.

He waits, and waits, and waits a little more, staying for a whole month in the small village he’d addressed the letter from for the small, improbable event that you may have written back. He learns later on that the letter never made it to your hands. The ship it had been on had lost all its cargo to the sea, including his letter. When he heard the news, he hadn’t known whether to be relieved or lament on what could have been.

It isn’t unpleasant to see you again. Kazuha has had time to let go of his hurt, but still, the image of your nostalgia-inducing eyes leave in him a sense of loss he thought he had already settled. Your mirage smiles, “Kazuha.” Had he been a weaker man, he would have folded and swept you up in his arms.

Nobody asks why his eyes have a slight sheen to it after he forces himself to walk away from you. He stands atop the beach and lets the waves wash over his bare feet, closing his eyes and imagining what could have been had he let himself succumb to the desire of holding you one last time, even if you were merely a mirage from the past.

Truly, the golden apple archipelago is a place where dreams are made into reality.

SCARAMOUCHE

He tries to act above it all, feigning indifference as if the entire thing is just a mild inconvenience to him.

Oh, you’re leaving him? That’s fine, he doesn’t care. Do you know how many people would kill to share his bed? You were tolerable, a way to pass time. Don’t think you were anything special. You, a normal person? Don’t make him laugh. You were nothing more than a pet he kept because you entertained him. It’s good that you’re leaving, actually. It saves him the trouble of having to get rid of you.

He’s… not very kind about it all. Defensive and on guard, hackles raising with every word that comes out of his mouth. He hates every second of it, but he can’t stop because stopping is to admit defeat, it means having to acknowledge that you meant something to him after hundreds of years of loneliness. He let you in his carefully guarded walls, and now—now you’re leaving him? Abandoning him after he bared himself open to you?

You are just like her.

Scaramouche stops before he can say those last words. The red that had been threatening to overcome his vision slowly recedes, leaving a numbing sort of clarity that washes over him like the rising tides of Inazuma’s beaches. His mouth feels dry, throat closing up.

There are tears streaming down your face.

He wishes you’d do something. Hit him, yell at him, curse his name. Anything. Just… anything but this silence that hangs heavy in the air, cloying in it’s thickness and threatening to drown him with words that can never be taken back.

He doesn’t apologize, won’t ever apologize. He is a god, and not even you would make him say those damnable words. He sees the way your eyes dim in understanding as you realize the same thing, and that, perhaps, is why you turn your back to him and walk away.

He wishes he could say that he called out for you, that he grabbed your arm and made you stay, that he just… held you. Instead, he watches you leave him, face blank and a phantom ache resonating in his hollow chest. The silence after you leave feels like the night before his creator abandoned him.

He tells himself it’s fine, that you’ll come back. You always do. This is just one of many arguments that always get resolved after a day or so—except. Except, he doesn’t let himself think of any other possibility. You’ll come back. (You have to.)

The months following your absence is a blur, spikes of irritation mixed with hateful words and barbed insults directed towards anyone who so much as breathed the wrong way. His subordinates are half-contemplating desertion just to escape his wrath. They all wonder where you’ve gone. You’re usually the one who soothes the Balladeer when he’s in one of his moods, like the godsend that you are. Though none of them are brave enough to mention your name after what he did to the foolish recruit who asked of your whereabouts.

Years pass. You never did come back.

He still gets the occasional reports about you and your general wellbeing, still sends out his best soldiers to clear out any monsters who’ve settled near your home. You never find anyone else after him. It brings a strange sense of relief in him when his monthly reports on you end up without a hint of a new lover.

He tries to forget you, but even with a new heart and the ascendance to godhood, there is still a lingering sense of loss and past regrets.

XIAO

He lets you go without argument. He’s used to people leaving him, but this is… different.

The thought of you there, physically within reach yet unable to to cross the distance that separates you from him. It’s a different kind of agony from the ones that have afflicted him for millennia.

He sometimes finds himself standing by the balcony of Wangshu Inn, eyes roaming over the vast landscape of Dihua Marsh, looking for the slightest hint of your silhouette. The sound of footsteps coming up the stairs always attracts his attention, anticipating your signature greeting and the smell of whatever mortal sustenance you’ve deigned to make for him to, as you once put it, let him experience the delicacies that this world has to offer.

You can’t call yourself ‘having lived a long life’ if you haven’t tried all the tasty food, Xiao!

…He misses you, though he will never admit it, perhaps not even to Rex Lapis himself.

His time—which once consisted of you, killing monsters, you again, roaming the lands for the remains of old gods, tasting whatever you cooked for him, and accompanying you so you can get home safely—is now comprised of nothing but endless slaughter. He tells himself it’s not a distraction, but it’s a thinly veiled excuse, weak even to his own ears. How low he has fallen to create such feeble excuses to justify the hurt that spreads from his chest to the tips of his fingers.

He used to pick up small things and trinkets in his time scouring the land for evil. A shiny pebble that reminded him of your eyes, a particularly large sweetflower that you would gape comically at once he showed you, qingxin flowers he plucked from the highest mountains just so he can see the way your face lights up in a smile. He still does all these things, only now, the objects are stored in a realm made in the likeness of your home, placing each one in a shelf or table that he thinks you would have arranged them in.

One time, he panics when he sees the flowers start to wilt, and in the heat of the moment, he placed adeptal power in them to ensure they will never die. To this day, he isn’t sure why he did so, only that he imagined at the time how upset you would be that they died in his care, even though he knows how unlikely it is that you will ever discover his hobby of collecting flowers and storing them in his realm.

Perhaps he hopes you’ll come back to him, so that when you do, he can see the way your eyes brighten up once he shows you everything he got for you while you were away.

It’s unlikely, he knows, but it’s nice to dream of it. He thinks his siblings would be proud to see him finally have a little hope for something.

VENTI

He spends the rest of the week in the tavern drinking as much as he can. For once, Diluc doesn’t try to reproach him for drinking what he can’t pay for.

He doesn’t exactly get drunk—can’t get drunk, more like. To a god like him, drinking a hundred barrels of Mondstadt’s finest wines won’t even be enough to get him tipsy. He is the god of freedom (and wine, he’d like to add), he can outdrink every single one of the archons and still have enough semblance to go to war. And yet…

You appear on the seventh day like a salvation, face contorted in worry when you see him slumped on the counter and one inch away from falling off the stool. It isn’t difficult to act the part of a drunken bard, pretending to sway on his feet and donning a fake intoxicated grin as he asked Charles for another glass.

The wind tells him of your arrival, but he ignores it just as he ignores the way his heart soars when the wind brings him the barest hint of your scent. He wishes you didn’t come here. He wishes he didn’t act so drunkenly. He wishes you were more heartless and ignored whoever must have tattled on him drinking Angel’s Share into bankruptcy.

You call his name. He pretends he’s asleep just so he doesn’t have to face his problems. Ha. How ironic. Will he wake up to Mondstadt destroyed by the remains of Khaenri’ah this time? He nearly did once.

He hears you sigh before he feels you bring his arm across your shoulders. You help him get off the stool, an arm around his waist to help keep him steady. The weight of Diluc’s disapproving gaze for deceiving you about his drunkenness is heavy, but he tells himself it’s alright. He just… wants to be selfish for once. If he has to act drunk to feel your arms around him again, he’ll suffer this humiliation as many times as he can.

“Venti,” you start as you walk him in the direction of your home. “I was worried, you know. Aether told me how much you’d been drinking since…” You trail off. He feels you shaking your head before continuing, “Just… don’t be so reckless with your health.” You laugh, mildly sardonic that’s directed more towards yourself than him. “Ah, what am I saying… you won’t even have any recollection of this tomorrow anyway.”

He wants to say something, but saying something means breaking this moment between you, it means revealing that he doesn’t actually need your help because once he starts speaking, the dam will break and everything will come spilling out. I’m sorry, I miss you, I love you.

The front door to your house opens. He’s gently placed down your couch, a blanket thrown over him as you thoughtfully take his shoes off for him. He feels you linger by his side, can practically hear the conflict in you.

He’s unprepared for the feeling of your warm breath on his skin, your lips hovering over his face before placing a chaste kiss on his forehead. “Goodnight, Venti.”

He leaves before the sun rises.

ZHONGLI

He only smiles, small and understanding with a hint of sorrow at the corner of his eyes.

He tells you he’ll respect your decision, but should you change your mind, he will always be here. You say it’s doubtful, he would’ve probably found someone else by then. Zhongli doesn’t correct you, only leans in and places his lips on the top of your head, as gentle as he’s always been with you, somehow managing to convey with a single gesture how high he holds you in regard.

And for the barest, infinitesimal moment, you half-contemplate the idea of staying. It’s a wishful thought. You end up leaving before you can change your mind.

He’s still as grounded as ever, but there’s a fragility to it, a certain brittleness that threatens to crumble from within him. He is the Lord of Geo, and yet he is so easily undone by you. The pain is temporary, he knows from past losses, but it doesn’t lessen the ache that resonates in his chest.

For the first time in his long life, he curses his golden memory that makes him incapable of forgetting, though that which he curses is also something he is grateful for. He can’t bear having to suffer losing the memories of your time together.

Your relationship is amiable, like that of old, awkward friends you had fallen out of touch with rather than that of old lovers. It’s what you wanted after all, this sense of normalcy. He has become such a vital part of your daily life that you simply couldn’t cut him off of your life entirely.

He doesn’t know which is worse; having to act as a mere friend when he wants nothing more than to wrap you in his arms and never let go, or to have no contact with you at all.

Morax is not one to ask for things, not one to plead his case to anyone. He was a selfish and proud god, a necessity that was shaped from him by the war. To love a mortal enough to leave his throne and fake his death would have been unthinkable. But that is why he is no longer Morax. He is Zhongli.

And Zhongli? He wants you. Desperately. Enough that he is willing to beg should you ask it of him.

His deceased enemies would laugh in mockery at what has become of the fearsome Morax. How low he has fallen—but it is a burden he is willing to bear. He will suffer as many humiliations as it takes to have you back.

The only issue is that you don’t want him anymore. But he is a man who finds gold where others would see stone. If he has to build his way up from friendship all over again, then it is a task he will do so gladly. As many times as it takes for you to want him back.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #albedo x reader #albedo kreideprinz x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #ajax x reader #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr x reader #kazuha x reader #kaedehara kazuha x reader #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #xiao x reader #venti x reader #zhongli x reader #gn reader

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musings-of-a-college-dork · 2 months

Text

An Odd Request

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Word count: roughly 1K

Steve’s wife goes to the gym and makes an odd request when she arrives home.

Warnings: sorta NSFW (mdni), use of Y/N, terms of endearment (baby).

Author’s note: This is just fluffy Steve and was written directly after I got home from the gym needing this man and a very specific kind of cuddling so…here it is! Short and sweet and very silly. Hope y’all enjoy!

It was a quiet Saturday morning in the Harrington household. Steve was the only one home, having a few hours on his own as Y/N went to meet her personal trainer. She had been seeing a trainer for a while as she, quote on quote, wanted “to be able to carry all the groceries in a single trip all by myself.” A noble and worthy cause in Steve’s eyes and yet as long as he was around, she’d never have to lift a finger. He was more than content to show off his own strength for her enjoyment…and yet wished to support her in any and all of her goals so off to the gym she had gone. As such, he had the home to himself for a few hours, a chance to get some work done.

He had spent most of the morning thus far drinking his coffee and sketching up new basketball drills and formations for the middle school team he coached. He finally understood exactly what Hopper had meant all those years ago about “coffee and contemplation” finding more and more that the man’s wisdom was never ending the older he got. We’ve gotta tighten up their current formations, he thought as the TV played some mindless sitcom in the background while he chewed on the end of his pencil. His mind looked over the squiggles on the paper in front of him trying to decide how to fix this. It had been weeks since they had won a game and morale was dropping fast. Jamie has to pass more but Donovan can’t really shoot…maybe if we move Paul to center and then swap Jordan and Cole we could-

The man wasn’t given another moment to think as he heard the front door open and close with a loud slam, the sound of feet padding their way down the entry hallway.

“Hey, baby!” Steve called as he continued to focus on the squiggles, drawing a few more lines before erasing them with equally as much vigor, “How was the gym?” A loud groan was all he received in reply as his wife dropped her bag to the ground and kicked off her tennis shoes, not even bothering to put them in the basket where she knew they belonged. The same basket she insisted his shoes lived in but rules didn’t apply to her, at least not right now. I’ll tease her about it later. “That good huh?” He called with a low chuckle as he ran a hand through his hair, “Well your protein shake is in the fridge. Should be cold enough since I put it in when you left.” Oddly enough, the man received no response. He waited a moment before he called again, looking up from his work.

“Bab-” And just like that she was in front of him. He jumped and let out a quiet swear as he clutched a hand to his chest. He hadn’t seen her before she had left and found himself taking a sharp inhale as he looked her up and down. She looked so fucking gorgeous in those tight black leggings that fit her just right, a simple white workout top, hugging her every curve, and the expensive black workout jacket he had saved up to get her for Christmas that she never left for the gym without. Not to mention the way her hair looked post-workout and the glow of sweat that radiated off of her. He was about to open his mouth to make some lewd remark he hoped she’d find charming but-

“Hold my tits.” The man blinked once, then again, his mouth open and gaping like a fish.

“W-what?”

“I want your hands on my tits,” Y/N repeated, holding his gaze with complete and utter seriousness, “Please.”

“Like…you want my…”

“Your hands. On my tits. Now.” When the man continued not to move his wife let out a deep sigh and took the pencil from his hand, laying it down next to his sketch as she replaced it with something much better. She led his large palm gently to her breast, letting out a sigh of relief as she encouraged him to give a little squeeze. Again, Steve didn’t even know what to do, never having seen her like this. Sure, she was usually a little more cuddly and blissed out after the gym as the endorphins ran through her body but this was…new. A good kind of new.

“So I take it you had a good time at the gym?” The man teased breathlessly as he ushered her around the coffee table to sit beside him on the couch. The woman let out a hum in confirmation as she laid down so they were pressed together, her back to his front, and wrapped his arms around her so his hands could live right where she needed them to. Another chuckle came from Steve as he buried his face into her hair finding-

“Did you put on perfume?”

“After working out,” she whispered as her eyes closed shut in complete and utter satisfaction, being held just the way she needed to be right now, “Didn’t want to come home smelling only like sweat.”

“I don’t mind,” Steve used his nose to brush the hair from the side of her neck, making her giggle as he pressed mindless kisses there, “I smell like sweat all the time and you still love me.”

“I do,” Y/N titled her head so he could press a kiss to her lips, one she returned eagerly before laying her head back down on the couch, “Fuck, I’m never doing the Stairmaster ever again.”

“Y/N, baby, if this,” Steve gave her tits a little squeeze to punctuate his thought, “is what happens after you’re on the Stairmaster, by all means, keep doing it. Any excuse to cuddle with my pretty little wife and hold her boobies is more than fine by me.”

“Don’t call them that,” Y/N scrunched her nose with a chuckle as she pressed her ass more into him to fit them closer together.

“What?” The man teased giving another squeeze, “Boobies?”

“STEVE!” The couple dissolved into a communal fit of giggles as they lay there together, all stress and strain completely forgotten as calm domesticity filled their hearts and home.

#stranger things x reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things smut #stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve x reader #steve harrington x reader #stranger things fluff

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ot9snumber1 · 4 months

Text

craving

son chaeyoung x reader

summary: you never understood why chaeyoung refused to show you her sketches until you find her sketchbook on your desk. warnings: smut, thigh riding, fingering, degradation, perv!chaeng notes: let's pretend this hasn't been in my drafts for months... dedicated to my favorite @nr1chaedickrider <3

———

"wait for me, chaengie! i just need to grab my keys!" you yell at chaeyoung, who was already halfway through the front door by the time you dash back to your shared room.

a loud groan can be heard, and you only chuckle at the response. you nearly burst into the room, but you don't rush to find your keys.

you think to yourself, why the hell did i take them up here when there's a place for it downstairs...? but there's no time to have thoughts when your roommate is already yelling at you to hurry.

"y/n! come on!" you hear, imagining chaeyoung's pout accompanying her whiny voice. "you promised me we'd be early tonight!"

you scoff, poking around a little bit faster around your desk. your eyes eventually land on the keys, and you whisper a little hell yeah! as you pick them up.

you're about to go back down, until you see the sketchbook your keys were previously on top of. it was chaeyoung's, for sure. you were aware that she's an artist, but you never really get to see her art.

chaeyoung didn't like showing her art. to you.

her friends have talked about her art a lot, even showcasing different shirts and knickknacks that chaeyoung had designed for them. it always made you feel a bit jealous, why is chaeyoung so protective of her art around you?

it was wrong to look at someone else's sketchbook without permission... but you've been chaeyoung's roommate for two years and been her friend for even longer, you feel like you deserve even a glimpse into her artistic mind.

you flip through the pages carefully and your jaw drops. her art is beautiful! why had she been gatekeeping it this whole time? the whole world deserved to—

oh!

you're being dramatic. drawing naked figures are completely normal! chaeyoung's just studying anatomy for sure. sometimes studying the human body requires putting them in provocative positions, of course.

...

she really likes anatomy, huh? you don't even know how she comes up with the positions the figures are in, you haven't seen her bring a girl home in forever! you chuckle at your own thoughts to ease nonexistent tension.

...

okay, maybe it's a little weird how the drawings are starting to look a bit too familiar. you try to convince yourself it's just chaeyoung improving as time goes on, but your eyes can't help but notice that you and the figures are starting to share the same hairstyle, same body type, eye color, facial features, even down to the body hair?

you also can't ignore the elephant in the room. those hands. there are two pairs of hands accompanying each figure, always groping their tits or fingering them or choking them or—

was chaeyoung really drawing you?

you decide to just forget about it. maybe you were seeing things? still, you felt weird about it, and maybe a bit turned on by the fact your roommate had a very vivid imagination.

you close the sketchbook with a long sigh, turning to leave but freezing when you see chaeyoung in the doorway. she looks just as surprised as you, color drained from her face.

the two of you just stare at each other.

"did.. did you get the keys?"

"were those drawings of me?"

you ask at the same time, and chaeyoung feels lightheaded. you were never meant to see that sketchbook! she doesn't even know when she left it on your desk.

neither of you speak for a moment. you were waiting for her response, not letting her get away from this scot-free.

chaeyoung wanted to lie, to forget about this and move on. but where was the fun in that? it's not like you slapped her in the face for obviously drawing you being fucked over and over again.

"so what if they were?" chaeyoung says confidently, crossing her arms. "why, you liked them?"

you pause, taking your time to actually think about what you felt. it was definitely weird and maybe creepy that she was drawing you naked. on the other hand, it meant she'd been thinking about putting you in those positions.

you must have been taking too long to think, because chaeyoung takes your blush as a sign and traps you against your desk. she leans in close to whisper, "you wouldn't mind skipping the movie and staying home to help me draw, right?"

you felt unsure, so you just shook your head. chaeyoung frowns, "aw, come on. i'm sure momo and jihyo wouldn't mind watching without us."

"plus, we were going to be late anyway."

"i thought you wanted to impress jihyo?"

you both stare at each other again. chaeyoung's eyes were dark, it made you uneasy and horny at the same time. "i've got more important things to be doing than impressing her now."

you raise an eyebrow. "me?"

chaeyoung blushes, her 'cool' act dropping immediately. "...yeah." she nods shyly. you chuckle, she was being incredibly adorable—but it wasn't what you wanted from her.

"only if you recreate what i saw." you whisper, bravely putting your finger under her chin to make her face you. chaeyoung's smile grows, the lustful glint in her eyes returning.

"i can do that."

—

you're gagging on two of chaeyoung's fingers as she presses her clothed thigh against your bare pussy. "you look so pretty, all slutty for me." chaeyoung chuckles when she sees your arms jerk as your wrists strained against the cloth she tied behind your back. "you'll tire yourself if you keep doing that." she hums, making you huff.

you desperately wanted to tug at her hair, leave scratches on her back, anything—but she decided that you were being a brat prevented you from doing so. if you weren't desperate for your release, you would've protested her decision entirely.

the way she bit her lip as she looked you up and down got you even more wet—you were sure her jeans were ruined by now. your movements grew erratic, nearly putting chaeyoung in a trance.

"god, you're such a whore. you don't even care that i've been drawing you while you slept." she snickers, removing her fingers from your mouth. all you could reply with was a moan.

maybe you should care. but does it matter when she replaces her thigh with the fingers you were choking on seconds ago? not really.

the ring on her finger brushing against your folds made you wince. the cool metal feeling so delicious against your wet heat. "fuck—fuck, don't stop." you beg, making chaeyoung chuckle.

"so needy." she mumbles, her fingers working in and out of you at a quick pace. the sharp gasp you let out when she pinches your nipple combined with the lewd sounds of your cunt made her own underwear damp.

"and so cute." chaeyoung adds, pulling your shirt all the way up and making you bite down on it to keep it there. "you like it, don't you? the fact i've been spying on you?"

you nod, almost looking pathetic in your roommate's eyes. chaeyoung's grin grows as she curls her fingers in you and makes you scream. "don't worry, baby. i won't stop anytime soon."

the way your thighs closed around her wrist as you came all over her hand gave her the biggest smile. "what a good girl." she coos, kissing you as she helped you come down from your high.

you ended up calling jihyo to tell her you couldn't make it. the reason she heard was that chaeyoung got sick suddenly.

sick with lust, maybe. the way chaeyoung had you bent over your desk confirmed that neither of you would be stepping foot outside of this room for a long while.

#son chaeyoung x reader #chaeyoung x reader #twice x reader #twice fic #twice fanfic #twice smut #twice imagines #son chaeyoung imagines

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boundinparchment · 1 year

Text

Chiaroscuro

Il Dottore cannot sleep and his mind cannot help but wander. Established Dottore x GN Reader, absolute fluff. It needs no explanation. Also on AO3 here.

Your book was open, spine cracked, pages pressed against your chest in a desperate attempt to not lose your place. He heard you catch it in time, sigh in relief that the pages weren’t wrinkled, and then return to the steady breathing he’d heard for the past few hours.

In your defense, it was late by normal standards. Any other night, he’d have joined you on the other end of the sofa he kept in his private office, your head in his lap as you read aloud. But this formula wasn’t going to work itself out and he couldn’t easily hand this over to a Segment, not this time.

He sighed softly and tried to relax his hand, lest he snap yet another pen (this time, out of sheer frustration rather than a passionate fervor). It didn’t make sense. By all accounts, the way the variables interacted should lend itself to this calculation perfectly. So where was the snag?

Dottore tried to work backwards, thinking through step after step, logically, impartial. The potency of the residue…entirely dependent on the strength of the dead Archon…which was based on the faith their mortals had in them…

Faith wasn’t quantifiable. There was no magic number that served as a benchmark.

As intangible as the stars and just as much a lie.

His hand began to move of its own accord; he worked best when he got his thoughts down on paper, could see the words.

When had he drawn…?

Dottore’s finger traced the outline of the hand in the margins of his notes. Not his. He knew the intentional style of his own studies, for he’d spent centuries without a Kamera through which to capture specimens. Accurate details and representation were only as good as the eyes and hands that could capture them until Fontaine’s invention was available. He’d even found something close to peace in creating detailed sketches of specimens and structures; he would never admit that giving visuals to his ideas was one of his favorite parts of development. It was one element he hated giving over to a Segment, even if a younger part of him was better suited.

But it still begged the question: what was your hand doing in his notes?

Red eyes shot up at you, still fast asleep, head lolled to the side.

He leaned back in his chair, clipboard propped against his knee, a pencil instead at the ready. He couldn’t keep wasting ink, he’d be left with nothing but a mess.

Usually this difficult of a time meant his perspective was skewed and that even a Segment would be useless. He’d have long started pacing if you weren’t here but he didn’t want to disturb you. Funny thing, how self-aware he’d become around you.

His hand moved of its own accord as his eyes traced your sleeping form.

You’d come down here one day by accident, looking for a quiet place to escape to, book in hand. One of his Segments pointed you back upstairs to the library with all of the bluster and impatience his younger self was known for. But you’d shot back that a debate-bordering-on-duel between Arlecchino and Tartaglia had broken out, leaving the library more of a war zone than a place for research; who was he, in any form, to deny a person a safe haven for that?

You were warned of the screaming, the shouting, the mechanical dangers. All you’d done was shrug and say that you’d keep out of the way.

He doubted you would find it any better down here. And yet you returned, week after week, a pile of books and notes in your arms, and kept to your little nook near the stairs. Unobtrusive.

But you were always there and your absence was felt nonetheless when you fell ill or whenever your department pulled you back.

You always returned, though, and he hated how that soothed a strange knot in his stomach.

It wasn’t until several months in that he offered the tranquility of his office that the two of you really spoke at length. He couldn’t afford for anyone to know about the Artificial Archon project, and having you in his office, where he could keep a better eye on you, seemed to have been a sound decision.

Until both of you spent the better part of an evening and the early morning in deep discussion about the redundancy of the entire Archon system when clearly, there was no point to it. The Tsaritsa ruled with an iron fist; the Anemo Archon was all but absent. It fit the nations’ respective beliefs, you argued, but it kept the people divided, focused on things that didn’t matter. No wonder Khaenri’ah hadn’t subscribed to the notion of a god. And why was Fontaine dealing with a floating threat, clearly on Celestia’s radar, but not Snezhnaya?

Soon enough, he couldn’t be rid of you and he didn’t want to be. He couldn’t place when, precisely, which was a source of frustration he couldn’t rip out, not like the weeds of his past. But at some point, his heart yearned and you answered and now he spent his sleepless nights marveling at you, not unlike how he marveled that Ruin Golem so many centuries ago.

Your eyes, curious but cautious, caught things he did not. So much life there, in a way he could never quite capture in his mind’s eye. He did not find it tedious to explain something to you, to break it down in a different way. Food tasted better when you were around.

You’d lament having to iron your uniform again with the way your shoulder was positioned. Even in sleep, your lips always moved ever so slightly, as if speaking in your dreams.

Lips so soft he did not deserve them and yet you bestowed upon him kiss after kiss anyway.

No matter how dark the room you entered, it was as if you brought the sun with you, brightening even the darkest corners of his mind. He angled the pencil, pressed harder at the shadow cradling your face as the nearby lamps flickered.

He carefully smudged and blended, flicking his gaze up just long enough to confirm the shape of your cheek, your nose, your brow.

He could not help but wonder if he was growing soft in his fifth century.

The world had not worn him down.

But you certainly had.

#il dottore #dottore #genshin impact dottore #il dottore x reader #dottore x reader #dottore x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #fluff

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odditycircus-2002 · 7 months

Text

Medusa! Reader and Shang Tsung in MK 1 (Part 1)

SPOILER ALERT FOR MK 1 STORYMODE

A/N: I hope y'all like this as I've been hyped for this game since I heard its release!!! I was so excited for the possibilities that I watched the full storymode cut as soon as it came out to take notes! Be aware, given this is a new timeline, there ARE gonna be some changes from the other hc/s you've known, but rest assured that doesn't mean I have forgotten. Please enjoy!

You were born around the same northern canton as Shang Tsung, yet you would come to know him in adulthood. You were born as the second eldest to your village's apothecary during your childhood. You never knew your eldest sister, who was taken at infancy to become Umgadi; despite this, your mother always spoke highly of the daughter she never got to know. To the point of being grating to everyone around you, including yourself. On the other hand, your father had high hopes for you to someday take over the apothecary of your village, having seen your innate talent and intrigue for medicine from an early age.

You reveled in the pride your father expressed for you. Although, your mother gave you a different time of day despite your best efforts. Because of your frustrations, you would come across to others as prickly and shrewish. Although deep down, you just wanted a chance to make BOTH your parents proud.

That day came, but not in the way you truly hoped, when a plague struck your village from another nearby canton. Thankfully, it wasn't Tarkat, but that didn't make the one that came any less deadly.

You and your father worked day and night to help treat your village, giving them depleting medicine to ease their symptoms. However, that doesn't mean you didn't have your fair share of corpses you had to help burn to stifle the plague from spreading.

When your father became ill from overworking, you took it upon yourself to search for a cure. It took weeks of secretly digging corpses out of the burn puts and cutting them open (something that wasn't so hard for you to stomach, oddly) to find which combinations of elixirs were the most effective before you found a cure. Even then, it took weeks of trials and tribulations before you finally succeeded. However, to others, you seemed to have cured your village overnight by some miracle, making both your parents proud.

From then on, through the grapevine, it wasn't hard for the newly crowned rulers of Outworld, Sindel and Jerrod, to hear the word of an upcoming healer making a name for herself around the northern cantons by healing most ailments and diseases. Eventually, they would invite you to study at the palace to further your knowledge of medicine.

You were already stunned to hear of Outworld's rulers inviting YOU, of all people, to study at their palace. Imagine your amazement when you first saw the luscious and lively city of Sun Do. Yet the city seemed pale compared to the crown jewel of Sun Do Palace.

When you were escorted into the palace, instead of immediately heading into the throne room as instructed, you slipped away from Li Mei's watch to head toward the legendary Hanging Gardens. While exploring the garden's flora, you took the time to sketch out the plant life you've never seen to look up later while listing off the medical herbs you could gather from there. In fact, you were so caught up in what you were doing you didn't immediately acknowledge Empress Sindel when she entered. When she invited you inside for tea, did you finally look up from what you were doing and realize who you had spoken to the entire time.

You quickly bowed as you started to ramble out apologies for not properly greeting your Empress, stating how you meant no offense or disrespect. Sindel only gave a small chuckle and brushed it off, stating it was a relief to know the healer they invited to study here had so much potential. From there, after getting berated by Li Mei about how there won't be a next time for you to slip from her, you meet Jerrod.

Jerrod and Sindel watched you flourish into a benevolent and dedicated healer, eventually the Head Healer for the Palace, often treating the royal family, Imperial Guard, or Umgadi. While there, you were also trained by Li Mei herself to defend yourself, to prove that every member of the Imperial House is capable of defending Outworld.

You and Sindel grew to have a close friendship. In fact, you treated Sindel the most when she was pregnant with twins and watched as both came into the world. You, too, helped with the upbringing of Mileena and Kitana after Jerrod's death. Sindel found she could confide in you, knowing any secret with you is safe, assured in your loyalty to her and the royal house.

However, that's not to say your friendship with Sindel didn't get into trouble occasionally, specifically in matters concerning Tarkat and those afflicted with it, as your role as a Healer conflicts with Sindel's policies.

You took it upon yourself to become one of the lead researchers into Tarkat, including going to the colony of those afflicted in the Wastes. What you saw appalled you and sickened every part of you that is a Healer.

Yet, as Sindel continues to ignore your suggestions on improving Tarkatan's life, a wedge forms between you. Still, that doesn't stop you from advocating giving Tarkatans better treatment than what they currently have. You and Sindel's skirmish reaches a crescendo when Mileena, infected with Tarkart, one day approaches you.

You tried everything you could to treat her in secret from Sindel, fearing the Empress would banish her own daughter. Yet neither of your efforts would be successful as Sindel and Kitana eventually learned about Mileena's affliction. You and Sindel argued about how Mileena's illness should be dealt with, with you calling Sindel a hypocrite for protecting Mileena when she doesn't do the same for the rest of her sick subjects.

Thanks to the new sorcerer, Shang Tsung, that Mileena found, she was temporarily cured before she could go on a bloody rampage. Immediately, you asked Shang how he figured out how to treat Mileena's symptoms. To which he answered by offering a partnership, stating that together, you both had a real chance to cure the princess and all of Outworld. An invitation you were not going to turn down, much to the Sorcerer's delight.

Thanks to Shang Tsung backing your argument, Sindel had a laboratory built near the Tarkatan camp so you could further your studies for a cure. Although, secretly, it may have also been a way for you to put some distance between you and Sindel since you felt you needed time away from her and the city.

Shang Tsung introduced you to Syzoth, who he claimed would work as an assistant. You were unaware of his enslavement to Shang. Although more at ease in your presence, you couldn't help but notice how twitchy Syzoth can be, especially whenever Shang is in the room.

You recognize Shang's mannerisms, dialect, and choice of clothing to be from the same area you're from. Despite the familiarity you two connected with, you were wary of Shang when he refused to indulge in what he used to be. While he finds your caution understandable, that would not stop him from trying to woo you.

At first, he wasn't quite successful in using honeyed words and shiny trinkets since you were too caught up in your work to care for them. Frustratingly for him, you struck a faster friendship with Syzoth over your interests in each other's cultures. Yet, it didn't escape Shang's notice that Syzoth would cringe at your dark humor and be unable to fully understand the theories you would share with him.

Shang Tsung changed his approach to you after taking note of you and Syzoth's interactions (and punishing Syzoth in private). He got this chance when you let slip a dark joke that some would say is in bad humor. You slap a hand over your mouth when you realize what you said. Yet, to your surprise, the sorcerer you saw as pretentious and full of himself let out a genuine laugh to the point he had to step back from his worktable to reorient himself.

Shang Tsung didn't fake finding you humorous, yet he's not complaining about it, especially when it meant seeing you direct your smile toward him. One small but genuine one he scarcely ever saw directed at him. He found himself wanting more.

Such a small moment led to a friendship that intertwined with your partnership. Shang got you talking about your work and what you hope to accomplish with it, occasionally encouraging you. You would find him sometimes jotting down notes when you share with him theories you developed about Tarkat, including how its mutative properties cause an excessive amount of bone to grow from a person and could probably strengthen a person if used right.

"Yet, I would never actually see if that's true. Not only would it be incredibly painful, but it would be an act against nature.

"Of course, yet shouldn't progress be something healers should strive for?

"Indeed we do, but not at the cost of lives."

Syzoth watched as your relationship with Shang Tsung flourished, thus leading you to share a few apothecary secrets your father taught you. The Zatteran wishes he could've told you about the man you looked fondly at, yet he kept his mouth shut for the sake of his family.

Unbeknownst to you, Shang Tsung would take some of your ideas and theories with Tarkat and then make them into a horrid reality, all right under your nose. For all you knew, the basement level of the lab would eventually be used to treat patients.

Yet, you didn't think Shang Tsung could ever be so depraved. Not from the charming and intelligent man you came to know through long discussions and walks near the lab. However, you started to grow suspicious since you saw Syzoth often head downstairs, but Shang Tsung discouraged you from looking around below. This eventually spiraled into a confrontation between the two of you.

You argued that both of you are partners and thus are equals. Just, what was he hiding down there? However, when you confronted the Sorcercer and gave him a piece of your mind, that's when disaster struck.

You were standing under a shelf when a glass jar containing proto-type Anti-Tarkat serum fell directly on your head. You screamed at the searing pain of glass and the serum entering your eyes.

The chain reaction of the shelf then collapsing and causing more elixirs to fall on your face didn't help with the pain. Your skin started to peel away, leaving your entire body in patches of red rashes, and your hair fell out in clumps. Your screams filled the entire laboratory as you collapsed to the ground. You didn't see the panicked look on Shang's face as he instructed Syzoth (who saw the whole thing) to carry you.

A/N: Sorry, that's all for now, folks. I reached the word count limit.😅 Don't worry, part 2 is coming out real soon!

#mortal kombat #mk x reader #mortal kombat x reader #mk11 #oddball writes #shang tsung #shang tsung x reader #syzoth #Reptile mk #mk syzoth #mk sindel #mk kitana #mortal kombat 1 2023 #mileena #mk Lei Mei

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extremelyblackandwhite · 7 months

Text

pairing: dad!bucky barnes x au pair!reader

warnings: age gap (reader is 10 years younger than bucky), smut (18+, dni if under 18)

author’s note: sorry this one is a bit short. i am worrying myself silly until tomorrow.

masterlist

and wouldn't you love to love her?

Bucky didn't know if Y/N wouldn't be back. He had decided to give her space, allow her the time off since she never had any but explaining it to Sadie was, to say the least, complicated. The two year old had decided to live up to the terrible two cliche and between refusing to go to school and kicking any time he tried to bathe her. Whenever she asked when Y/N would be back all Bucky could say was that he did not know and, honestly, that was the truth. The more the days passed by and her viva examination got closer, he was starting to believe more and more that maybe she just wasn't coming back at all. I like you just the way you are, what ever happened to Hey Y/N, would you like to go for some coffee? No, he just had to be upfront about it.

As if Sadie living up to her prophecy wasn't enough, Christopher was equally on him blabbing and wondering about Y/N. He could only tlel him so much before Chris charted a jet to Ohio and he was certain Y/N would hate that more than what he told her.

Bucky was in the middle of dealing with Sadie screaming bloody murder about the pancakes not having chocolate chips when he heard the front door close. At this point, if someone came to shoot him in the head he wouldn't mind. However, it turned out to be a much pleasant sight dressed in a professional black dress.

- Why is she crying? - Y/N drapped her coat over the chair.

- There's no chocolate chips. - Bucky sighed both of relief that Y/N was here and of tiredness.

- Sadie Barnes, you either eat your pancakes or there will be no TV, no tablet, no toys, no Etch-a-Sketch and definitely no Bluey, Disney + or any other streaming service your dad may be paying for. Your choice.

The redhead stared at Y/N before starting to eat her pancakes. That's it, Y/N was a witch. She had to be a witch. That's it. She was a witch, a very pretty witch who looked way too polished to have come out of an Ohio farm, but a witch.

- How were the cows?

- Pardon?

- Your parents. You went to see your parents right? They live in a farm in Ohio?

- Yeah. They were ok. Apparently mum has named them Rose, Sophia, Dorothy, and Blanche much to dad's dismay.

- Like the Golden Girls. - he chuckled. - So, your viva is today.

- Don't remind me. It's like walking into a slaughter house and then being denied being called a doctor. They should decapitate me, put my head on a spike, and parade me around Columbia as the massive disappointment.

- What's decapitate? - Sadie asked.

- It's the capital. - Bucky said not wanting to traumatise his two year old with the scenario Y/N had just described. - Go wash your hands and get your backpack, bug.

Sadie nodded but not before going over to hug Y/N's leg. Y/N ruffled her head before sending her along to wash her hands. Bucky got to making Y/N a plate, patting the chair next to him. She smiled at him before taking a seat and cutting a bit of the pancake. She stopped chewing, looking at him with a forced smile.

- Good?

- Buck, why are they salty? - she put a napkin in front of her mouth to spit out the pancake.

- They're not salty. - Bucky took a forkful from her plate to try it himself.

- We've had this discussion, Buck. Salt is in the black pot and sugar in the white one.

- I'm gonna be a mess when you quit. - he pushed the plate away from her. - Speaking of which, I would like if you interviewed your future replacement. I trust you to pick the right person.

- Most likely you won't need a replacement because I'm failing my viva today.

- You are not. - Bucky put his hand on her shoulder. - You are smart, Baudelaire.

- Baudelaire?

- Do the scary thing first. Get scared latter.

(...)

Bucky drove Y/N down to Columbia, ensuring she got there safe and ready for her VIVA before driving down to take Sadie to school. Y/N swallowed in empty, merely staring at the hallowed halls of a building which had many notable alumni and she was now hoping she would be one. The VIVA was intense to say less and as she came out of the room, she was sweating buckets and wanting to be as far away from the building as possible.

- Y/N! - shit. Shit, shit, shit, she'd forgotten he existed. What ever happened to men taking a hint?

- Chris. - she turned around with a fake smile. - What are you doing here?

- Anderson told me it was your VIVA today, I wanted to come see you. I haven't seen you in a while and Barnes said you were on holiday.

- I thought after our last chat you wouldn't want to talk to me, Christopher.

- It was a hurdle, Y/N. - he got closer to her. - Listen, I understand it was rough of me to attack your job like that but you have to understand it's because I care for you and that job is beneath you.

- No job is beneath anyone, Christopher. You think that silver spoon mouthed talk is gonna make me forget you basically insulted me, my boss and the child I look after?

- You have a Bachelors and a Masters, Y/N. You should be working internships, assistant positions to help you build your curriculum, not being a silver spoon mouthed man's child's babysitter.

- That's all fine when you can afford to work a non paid position, Christopher.

- I care about you, Y/N.

- But I don't love you.

- I don't expect you to love me yet, we haven't been seeing each other for too long and if we ...

- Christopher. - she interrupted him. - I love someone else. It's not gonna stop.

(...)

Y/N dragged herself home. It was now a week, a week long of worrying wether she passed or not. She guessed it was better than having to do it again, heck she hoped she wouldn't have to do it again. She opened the door and heard mumbling with all the lights being off. She moved to turn the lights on, coming face to face with a home made sign and Sadie yelling surprise.

- What is this? - she smiled, leaning down to pick Sadie up.

- You're done, it's a party. - Bucky chuckled, pointing to the sign. - We have reservations in about 3 hours. Bought an ice cream cake and Sadie made you a card.

- You shouldn't have done this.

- What? After 3 years and a half of you moaning and whining over psychology, you need a nice night out.

- You do know she'll start crying at around 10.

- That's why we have dinner reservations at 6.30 and once she's in bed, I will allow you full control of the television. How does that sound?

- I may not pass.

- You got this far. You deserve a celebration just for you.

taglist: @talesofadragon @themermaidscales82 @winters1917 @vladsgirlxx @stinkerbelle007 @maybefoxysouls @blackwood-bodecker-housewife @chipilerendi @kandis-mom @belennasif @abitofblues @buckybarnessimpp

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan/y/n #bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky/reader #bucky x y/n #bucky/y/n #bucky x you #bucky/you

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mysteria157 · 3 months

Text

Chapter 16

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black Fem Reader

Word Count: ~14.1k

CW: explicit sexual content, smut, profanity, ass slapping (lol?)

Summary: The last person you ever wanted to see pries into your life. Nanami makes a life changing decision. Your hard work finally pays off.

Notes: Thank you to all who have been supportive so far. Reblogs, likes, or comments are always appreciated but not necessary <3 Almost there! Happy reading!

Divider: @cafekitsune

Previous Chapter | Ao3 | Next Chapter

It Had To Be You Masterlist

The sound of Ulani’s shrieks had a smile curling against your lips, your stomach fluttering with joy as you looked up at her from your hands. Your daughter wrung her hands in the air, stretching her arms toward the various works of clay drying on long shelves on the wall of Rory’s studio, bouncing excitedly in the baby carrier strapped to said owner’s front as he walked about and described each piece to her.

There was a lull between classes, a three hour break that gave you time to leave the house for air and dig your hands in something.

You brought the wooden rib to the spinning clay, the hard material pressing gently to the greyish shiny mound as you made a steady tunneling design along the side. You were initially worried about the sketches of the small collection of works you prepared to make for Choso. You thought they would be too bold for him, too typical from what he probably had already made himself. But one quick glance over them and he was approving immediately, his bored expression softening and a smile pulling along his features as he listened to you talk him through your designs.

You only had a month; one week before Christmas to deliver the completed pieces to him. Your mind was moving a mile a minute, honing in on the clay in your hands as you started a rough throw.

The loud chime from Rory’s phone pulled your gaze to him briefly before you were looking back down the spinning (soon to be vase) in your hands. You hoped Ulani would have a creative streak. To have a child that would want to sit across from you, to dig their hands into clay or in paints, it filled you with a sensation that you couldn’t quite place and—.

“Y/n.”

His normally eclectic and cheerful tone was tainted somehow, bitterness and apprehension curving against the syllables of your name as they slid from his mouth. It made you pause, pulling your hands from the clay as you looked up at him and took in his serious expression. His twists were pulled up into a bun, allowing you to see every nuance on his face; brown eyes steely and frustrated, lips flickering with the beginnings of a frown.

“What’s wrong?”

“Your mother is here. She’s outside. She would…like to talk to you.”

You frowned immediately, the thought of her souring your mood—and the rest of your day—quickly. Your first reaction was to wash your hands, pluck Ulani from the carrier strapped to Rory’s chest, and leave through the back door. But the second reaction you had—unfortunately—, was to wait. To listen and think that maybe this time would be different.

It wasn’t different when she showed up at your door with painful accusations when she heard you were leaving Sendai. It wasn’t different when she sneered hurtful words across the table on Christmas. It wasn’t different on every birthday, or a report card with a B instead of an A, or even a present you had worked hard to get for Mother’s Day when you were ten.

It was never different.

But some part of you, deep down in a chasm that had been cobwebbed over and buried beneath the dirt in your chest had held hope that maybe this time would be different. Just once more.

“I’ll take Ulani to the back. If anything goes wrong, you come get me. Immediately. Okay?”

You stood up wordlessly, nodding curtly as you strolled to the row of basins along the studio wall to wash your hands. Rory threw the diaper and toy bag over his shoulder, cooing to your daughter to distract her as he made his way out of the large, empty room and leaving you alone.

You definitely weren’t presentable; black overalls and a t-shirt that you usually wore when you threw clay, your curls frizzy and piled atop of your head without a care, no earrings, no—.

No.

She would take what you gave, or leave.

No more acquiescing her.

Your heart was racing frantically in your chest, painful beats pushing the blood through your veins in thick pulses. You wiped away the sweat that had prickled on the back of your neck, bit the inside of your lip until you could taste the tinge of copper on your tongue, squared your shoulders and took a long, heaving breath.

You could do this.

Or at least that’s what you kept telling yourself as her elegant form walked into the now stiff air of the studio. Her eyes were apprehensive, genetic brown hues looking anywhere but at you as she walked closer to your standing form near the basin row. Her similar curly hair was twisted and pulled back into a low bun, simple diamond earrings in her ears, and dressed in jeans and a thick sweater—a stark contrast to her usual silks and pastels.

While you were used to her exuding rudeness and arrogance, your nose flared at the heavy smell of hesitance and unease that radiated from her instead.

It felt like minutes before she spoke, her mouth opening and closing as she tried to think of something to say. You wouldn’t be the first to talk, you wouldn’t give her that satisfaction. Ome’s words rang in your ears like a siren.

“If your mother is ever going to come around, she is going to do all the work.”

“Throwing clay?” Her voice was practically silent when she finally spoke, her words wobbly on the ends, shaky. You didn’t respond, your hands digging into the sides of your cotton overalls as your gaze stayed locked with hers. “You look…healthy.”

“What do you want?”

You couldn’t deny the satisfaction of watching her flinch from your words. Growing up, you had been on the receiving end of it time and time again.

Her mouth opened again, silence falling from the space between parted lips, brows furrowing and face coloring in shame.

“I want to apologize.” You scoffed, the reaction immediate as you shook out a humorless laugh and folded your arms across your chest, shifting your gaze to look anywhere else as you tried to ignore the anger festering in the base of your stomach. “Please just—when I showed up at your door in Sendai and said all those things…and then when I showed up here and spoke so harshly that you ended up in the hospital—well your uncle tore me to shreds. You wouldn’t even begin to comprehend what he said and—”

“Let’s hear it.” The words fell from your lips before you could stop them, courage locking the vertebrae of your spine in place and holding you up and steady as you kept your patronizing gaze on her. “What did he say?”

Eyes that you were used to seeing filled with disdain and indifference were now colored with embarrassment and guilt.

You didn’t care.

Not today.

“He said that I am a heartless bitch who never deserved nor should have been a mother. And the fact that I would put you at risk without batting an eyelash shows that I deserve to rot in hell.”

You reminded yourself to give Rory a warm hug later.

“So what changed? You felt bad?”

“I had a small heart attack.”

You bit the side of your tongue, willing yourself to keep your appearance neutral and not convey the worry that flooded your body of its own volition. You may not care for her, but you wouldn’t wish her harm.

You weren’t that heartless…but sometimes you wished you were.

“It was minor, but it scared me. When I woke up in the hospital, I realized how alone I was. You weren’t there, Rory wasn’t calling. Not even my father called. He never cared unless it was to benefit himself. And it took me fifty five fucking years and me almost dying to realize I was just like him. He raised me to work hard and that my value only came from my accomplishments and my education, the man I married, and the health and success of my kids. I believed him and followed him just to feel something from him…and I did the same to you.”

Suddenly you hated her. You hated that all of a sudden, she was ‘seeing clearly’. All of a sudden, her trauma made so much sense to her. Now it all clicked after you had already been scarred enough.

You hated her.

You didn’t but—fuck.

“I’m trying to do better. I’ll always be working on myself. And I know you will probably never forgive me or want to speak to me again. And that’s fine. I came prepared knowing that possible outcome. But I had to do it anyway. It probably won’t make up for years of how I treated you but…I was a terrible mother…and I’m so…so sorry.”

You ignored the prickle in the back of your eyes, kept your gaze steady even though your chest was shaking with unease and something else. Something else thick and heavy and pressing against your skin, digging into your lungs and narrowing your breath.

“Everything that you have done, has always made me so proud. Proud as your mother, not because of expectations. You’re a wonderful daughter, who I am proud to call my own. I hope that one day, you’ll let me be in your life again. In your daughter’s life. On your own terms, however you want. And if you don’t, that’s okay too.”

The silence was deafening, only the faint sounds of cars fluttering outside as they drove past to cast some sort of noise between the tension of you both. This was the first time in your life that she had ever apologized to you. The first time she had ever shown a flicker of remorse and guilt. The first time you had ever watched her realize the consequences of her own actions in how she chose to raise you.

You wanted to push her away, to tell her to leave and never come back or contact you again.

But you knew—deep down you knew—that you owed it to yourself and maybe even your daughter to try.

“I should get going.”

Her soft voice pulled you from your thoughts, watching in faint fascination as she smoothed her hands down her cashmere sweater and cleared her throat to dispel the awkwardness in the air.

“I’m staying with your uncle. We’ve been trying to reconnect and well—I’ll be here for a few days.”

You ignored the small flicker of hope in your chest, because it didn’t make sense to feel this way. Your mother didn’t deserve a modicum of well wishes or happiness from you and yet the thought of her reaching out again had you fighting the small voice in your head whispering finally to the attention you always craved.

Though only a few words had left your lips, you were suddenly tired. So mentally tired.

“I’ll get out of your hair.”

She offered you a soft smile, the sight pulling at your chest and preventing you from speaking further. She hesitated for a moment longer—a hand lifting as if to reach for you—but instead she tucked it against her chest and left the room without another word.

When the door chime of the studio rung in your ears, you sagged against the basin row behind you, hands reaching back to grip the edge, fingers digging into layers of dried glaze as you squeezed tighter with each beat of your heart.

Thirty years of trauma and only looking your way unless it was for her benefit and now all of a sudden, she was remorseful. If she meant it, you really wouldn’t know unless you gave her a shot.

But right now, you couldn’t think about it.

Right now, the only thoughts on your mind were getting home to take care of Ulani and vent to Kento with free hands and an angry mouth. Kento who you, surprisingly, hadn’t heard from all day.

You faltered at sight of your phone screen, blinking against the chilly November wind as you made your way to the car. You were used to a few messages from Kento throughout the day. While he offered the minimum amount of words in meetings and conversation in his workplace to get the job done, he turned to his phone to vent on any annoyances and to ask your opinion on a certain direction projects on his roster should take. You had left that life, and though marketing no longer flowed through your veins next to caffeine and exhaustion like it used to, it felt freeing to exercise your brain again with things you once embraced so readily.

But right now, you were a little mystified as you noticed only one message from him.

Kento: Hello. I know you’re at Rory’s studio right now but I’m not home and did not want you to be alarmed. I decided to go to the bakery.

Are you still there?

Kento: I am.

Be there soon.

Your heart jumped into the narrow tunnel of your throat, pumping frantically, a loud sloshing in your ears from each beat as you raced to your car and strapped Ulani in her seat.

Since Yu’s death, he had not set foot in the bakery let alone walked along the block that the establishment was built on. Through his journey of grief, he still hadn’t talked about owning the bakery or touched the deed that Yu had given him.

Kaya had done a great job keeping up with the bakery since her husband’s death. And Yu, like the beautiful soul he was, ensured his employees would still have a career in the midst of something going wrong. A fellow bakery owner from his years in culinary school happily took the extra help and Yu’s former employees were still earning a modest living.

Even in death, his kindness would never cease.

The thick curtains only showed slivers of dim light through glass windows as you peered from inside your car. Your stomach was in knots, twisting by the second as you strapped Ulani to you again and walked inside.

The bakery wasn’t big, modest and modern with hints of eclectic and outgoing tones that exuded Yu’s personality. Walls were painted a warm brown, employee of the month pictures and certificates of achievement littered a small section—polaroid pictures of families and neighbors and friends next to them.

The front register was covered with a thin white sheet, the wood counters clean and free of dust, the long glass display case empty and dark. Large chalkboard slabs behind the register on the wall had been scrubbed clean, no longer holding any remnants of Yu’s handwriting to display what goods would be available.

Before, when the bakery was open and bustling, the spaces between cabinets and the center of the small tables inside were adorned with different houseplants that grew throughout the seasons. Long Philodendrons would hang down from the ceiling and trail on the walls like vines; waxy Hoya Carnosas would adorn the tables that Yu would rotate with Peperomias of different shades and size. You remembered the large Fiddle Leaf that would sit in the corner behind the counter, curving over a table meshed against the glass windows that would always offer a warm and cozy cover for whatever lucky person happened to snag the seat. It was his pride and joy, the only plant that responded to his touch. Haibara always loved plants.

But those plants were all gone now—the corners, walls, and tables now bare.

A small part of you hoped that Kaya took them home instead of throwing them away.

Your eyes caught Kento, his tall body leaning stiffly against a wooden counter, his glasses covered gaze directed to the blank chalkboard slabs on the wall. A crisp black long sleeved button up covered muscular arms that were crossed over his chest, dark grey slacks fitting perfectly on legs that ran miles every morning before the sun rose, black expensive Chukka boots that he embellished in occasionally, and his typical silver Cartier watch graced your eyes as you took him in. Broad shoulders rose softly as he pulled the cold air in through his nose, sharp cheekbones curving his face into a somber expression.

Something must have happened.

A thick fog of unease permeated from his presence across the tiled floor of the bakery and to both you and Ulani. The feel of it made you swallow, eyes blinking back a sudden sting as you opened your mouth to say something to him.

Your daughter beat you to it, babbling happily at the sight of her father, the noise cutting through the tension in the room like a knife and wrapping around Kento like a warm blanket. He reacted immediately, his head turning to you both and a small smile curling the ends of his mouth only fractionally as he took you in.

You watched his mouth open, lips parting and twitching before closing altogether. Apprehension colored his features, the strength he had practiced using in his head before your arrival vanishing entirely upon the sight of you.

“Rough day?”

Your voice echoed through the room, bouncing off the walls and making it feel more empty than what it already was, washing over him and filling his lungs to fan flames of newfound confidence. You crossed the empty space between you both, admiring his gracefulness even in the midst of whatever inner turmoil he was going through.

Kento didn’t speak at first, his eyes flickering from yours to down at his daughter as she looked around the room.

“Before you came along, I went to Haibara for almost everything that I was frustrated about. To him, I was a grumpy old man inside of a twenty something year old body who frequently fretted about everything and everyone. But he listened to me anyway. Every day when Gojo was more insufferable than usual or when work was so grating that I felt suffocated, I rambled to him.”

“It’s hard for me to imagine you gushing like a teenager to someone,” you teased, smiling up at him as he fingered a soft lock of Ulani’s hair that poked from her beanie.

“Haibara used bribery to get me to open my mouth,” he muttered in reply, voice colored with sadness and a slight twinge of nostalgia. “This morning I already felt heavier than usual. And it just got worse as the day went along. Meetings ran annoyingly long. Our branch in Niigata is performing below benchmarks and they are pushing back on everything we suggest. To make matters worse, the lovely bento you made for me was upside down when it was time for lunch.”

“How shameful. I worked hard on that,” you goaded, clicking your tongue in fake admonishment as you began to bounce your daughter in place. The small remark seemed to do the trick, a gentle huff leaving his chest in response.

“Normally, I turn to you when I want to voice my worries. But I knew you were busy and before I could even think about it, I was pulling out my phone, texting Yu instead and hitting send. It hit me almost immediately that he’s not here.”

He cleared his throat, cheeks ruddy with embarrassment as he spoke to you. You didn’t offer any words, reading his own cues and placing a hand on his chest, your thumb stroking the fabric slowly to encourage him.

“I brushed it off the first time. But then it happened when one of the higherups asked a question that ran a meeting 15 minutes over. And again, after I put your bento back together. Three messages still delivered but no response, and my chest felt so heavy even though I knew the reason why.”

Dark blonde eyebrows furrowed in frustration, the muscle arching angrily over the curve of his odd glasses. Kento had never believed in any sort of afterlife or spiritual presence. He was ashamed, foolish to think that a friend so precious to him who was long gone could possibly send him something back.

“And that’s why you came here? To think that you could hear him in a place where he always was?” you asked him softly, keeping his attention on you and hoping to smooth the angry crease in his brow.

“It sounds asinine, doesn’t it?”

You shook your head in response, that same hand on his chest reaching up to stroke the soft skin of his face, thumb brushing over a sharp cheekbone. He relaxed into your touch, leaning more into your hand and siphoning the warmth that it brought.

Yu’s presence still bled through the walls of his bakery. Your eyes could see the plants and writing on the chalkboard through a thin veil of reminiscence. The equipment remained shiny from his years of care, the countertops held stains of hard work and wear and tear that seemed to season the dough he used to knead every night before leaving. The air, thick and cold, held echoes of his loud and boisterous yelling as you laughed at a joke with a hand on your once pregnant belly. Vivid memories flashed through your mind like an old reel; him blowing raspberries into the plump cheeks of his daughter’s face and whispering warm words of affection to his wife when he thought no one was listening.

Haibara was everywhere and yet nowhere.

“Did he answer you?” you asked, your own voice tight from the memories.

He chuckled softly from your question; the sound strained even though his shoulders relaxed from their once tense hold. He plucked Ulani from her carrier, kissing her cheek repeatedly until her gummy lips curled into a drool covered smile and her body hiccupped out a harsh giggle.

“He did.”

You didn’t pry further. Whatever words he had for his friend where for him and him alone. You knew he would tell you if you asked, but it felt wrong to do so. So, you simply smiled up at him instead, hoping your body language would convey just how satisfied you were with his progress.

The dim lights of the bakery glinted over his glasses, the tinted lenses offering you a flash of deep set eyes that hadn’t stopped tracing over you since you walked in.

He outlined your features; typical black cotton overalls and white shirt with flicks of dried clay that you wore when throwing, curls pulled up into a messy bun, smooth skin without blemish as you radiated love in his direction.

He had felt hollow all day, his chest carved out with the sharpest knife imaginable and exposed to the open air as frustration and sadness festered along the raw walls of the woundt. Just thinking about Haibara seemed to pull him so low that on days like these it was hard to even see the top of the hole in order to climb out of it.

But you offered that familiar smile, spoke to him with words that held thick layers of affection and comfort that seemed to make the hole in his chest a little less painful. You were a beacon to him, shining bright and unmoving even though the rocky waters of his grief had pressed against you time and time again. You would always be there to offer the answers he needed to hear, even if they stung a little more than usual.

You both freely gave and took from one another, balancing chaos and peace with a harmonious practice that should have taken years to build.

And right now, you were giving him everything he needed in that moment.

So, Kento took; leaning down to slant his lips against yours and leeching away the comfort he had been searching for all day and swallowing it for himself. When he pulled away and sighed against your cheek, placing another kiss on the skin there, his body felt a little less heavy than before.

Later that night, after you had vented your own frustrations about your mother and hours after Ulani had been tucked in bed, you carded your fingers through thick blonde locks while he lay on your sweaty chest. With your steady heartbeat against his ear, Kento pulled in a calming breath for the first time that day.

Just minutes before, his mouth had been hot on your skin, wringing every ounce of adoration from your body that you gave him when his tongue dipped between the crevices of your body and his hips rolled against yours. And now with your strength, he exhaled away his worries and sadness into the warm air of your bedroom, squeezing you closer to him so he could soak up your warmth.

“I wasn’t completely honest with you today.”

It was the first word he had spoken in a while; he was normally somewhat vocal when you both made love, but tonight he was quiet, content to relish in the moans you exhaled against his skin. You didn’t let your mind run away with irrationality and remained quiet, your fingers scratching a spot on his nape that relaxed him further against you.

“Meetings did run long, the Niigata branch is performing below benchmarks, and your bento did fall apart before I could enjoy it. But—well lately I’ve been thinking that…” he trailed off, the rumble of his voice into your skin falling into nothing as he lost the remaining words in his throat. You felt him swallow against you, felt his hands dig a little more into the flesh of your waist, felt his nose press more into the skin of your breast before he pulled in your scent with a deep and shaky breath. “These past few days, I’ve been thinking about fulfilling Yu’s portion of his will—opening the bakery.”

Soft patters of happiness fluttered against your ribcage. You twirled a thick lock between two fingers, ruminating words in your head before speaking.

“Is that what you asked him then? In the bakery? You asked if he thought you were ready?”

He was silent for only a moment before speaking against you. “Yes.”

Nimble fingers traced against you, swirling in no specific way as he fought the urge to swallow his words and turn away from you so he could disregard the conversation and never bring it up again.

He’d gotten this far; he could keep going. He owed it to himself to keep going.

“He told me to stop complaining about the meetings. The Niigata branch will fall in line eventually. Your lovely bento can easily be remade, and…and that yes, yes I’m ready.” His unease was front and center now that the words were out of his mouth, that painful feeling in his chest returning with an intense ebb that made him hold you tighter. “There are still some things that I need to figure out; my job, how I want things to be run, when it will open. But I have time. Plus, I want Ulani to be a few months older, so things are not as intense for us.”

You were elated, your lips pulling into a bright smile as you felt the soft tresses of his hair graze against your fingertips. It had taken him months to get to this moment, and to be honest, you thought it would have been much longer. He climbed over you, his blond tresses falling over his forehead to brush against your own.

“How does that sound?”

You admired him from above, reaching up to stroke his cheek, your thumb sliding along his bottom lip.

“I think that sounds great, Ken.”

That beacon of light shined up at him again, calling for him to come home in the warmth of your embrace where he could stay as long as he wanted.

For the final time that night, he took every morsel of your love, swallowed it down with another press of his lips against yours before he rolled inside of you for more.

***

Your commission for Choso in the weeks following became a real test for how you could balance motherhood. Before Ulani, you could spend hours in your studio, hunched over a pottery wheel or easel and throwing out piece after piece until your fingers ached from dryness and overuse.

But now, you had to throw clay in intervals, short ten minute increments with Ulani doing tummy time or playing with sensory toys on a thick pallet of blankets next to you. Kento offered a small reprieve during his lunch breaks by coming home to help out and soak in as much time with his daughter as he could.

You had to balance perfecting a small collection of works for Choso as well as take care of Ulani, and take care of yourself.

It was exhausting and a small reminder of what you could and couldn’t handle at least while your daughter was at this age.

But the results were worth it.

You relished in the pride of watching Choso smile deeply as he unwrapped a vase of your own design. It was almost as tall as you, but created with a soda firing technique that left the glaze a surprising but beautiful texture that would stand out in his home. Ten pieces to grace his home in whatever way he wanted were unwrapped bit by bit, his black painted fingernails tracing along the sides of each one in childlike fascination as he riffled through.

“These are beautiful. Truly.”

And while you were elated from his response, the check that he wrote held far too many zeros that had you blanching in shock and pushing the piece of paper back towards him. He resisted, black eyebrows pinching in confusion before pressing it more firmly into your hands, curling your fingers around it.

“Get used to this. People would pay so much to have something of yours. Cherish it.”

The smooth texture of the check in your hand felt almost imaginable between your fingers. “Choso, I don’t think I can—”

“I will not give you any less than that. Please don’t think I’m trying to be too generous. All of it is earned. You have such a gift.”

Those same words again echoed in your ears. Kento had uttered those same words as he looked at your work in your old studio in Sendai. Chiyo had spoken them to you as she admired the mural in Ulani’s nursery. Over and over, until it had become too loud and overwhelming that you didn’t have the justification to remain in denial any longer.

***

“You look so fucking good,” Ome squealed the minute she laid eyes on you. The entire day was spent throwing on every outfit you could find and feel comfortable in, trailing over your figure and fighting subconscious thoughts with every article of clothing you put on. Ulani, while an admirer of yourself, offered nothing but incoherent babbling that seemed to bring a small smile to your face in the midst of your inner turmoil.

It had taken you hours, but you could truly admit that you looked hot.

The one sleeve long black maxi dress hugged your body enough to show off your curves gained from motherhood without being too tight. The high slit up the side exposed the expanse of a smooth brown leg, your skin glowing in the light of your room as you turned to admire yourself. Your curls were tucked away and slicked back into a neat bun, the baby hairs of your edges smoothed down and curled against the skin of your hairline. Classic gold hoops adorned your ears and a double layer herringbone gold chain sat against the skin of your collarbone. You were fastening the ankle strap of your three inch chunky heels when Ome walked into your room.

Ome filled out her halter neck midi dress so well. Growing up, she was always a bit curvier than you were. She was never insecure with her body and she flaunted it when she could. The dress stopped right before her knees, dark chocolate skin strapped with stiletto heels and a gold ankle bracelet. Her 4c hair was styled into a neat high bun with two thick strands of her hair tightly braided to frame each side of her face in its own creation of bangs.

“You look fucking good,” you retorted playfully, smoothing invisible wrinkles from your dress before sitting down at your vanity.

“I know.”

You snorted against the firm glide of eyeliner, completing a classic cat eye on both sides before throwing her a glare through the mirror.

“You and Gojo are just alike, its uncanny. Is he your date tonight?” The teasing inflection in your tone earned you a heatless glare, beautiful silver eyes rolling dramatically at your jest.

“Fuck you.”

“So that’s a yes.”

Your eyes stayed locked with hers through the mirror as you ran a thin layer of gloss over your lips.

“I’ll have you know that this is our third date, so—”

“Three dates and still no pipe? Damn that’s crazy.”

You expected a biting remark in response, expected her to cuss over an insult that you would both laugh at. But Ome narrowed her eyes instead, pursing beautiful lips before she sauntered to where you sat.

“It’s funny…I’ve noticed a few things. You’ve got on a sexy ass dress, high heels, you have on your favorite perfume and you look unbelievably happy and comfortable.” Ome threw you a look. “Kento must be dicking. You. Down.”

You swatted at her as if she were an annoying pest even though the loud laughter shaking from your chest told her everything she needed to know.

“I heard my name.”

The man himself was suddenly leaning against the doorframe of your room, a beautiful brow lifted in question. You swallowed the groan as you soaked in his dark brown ribbed knit top that was loosely tucked into white slacks, short sleeves hugging his biceps perfectly. Your eyes traced along thick and veiny forearms as he crossed his arms over his chest, a well-cared for black Rolex winking at you from his wrist. His hair was parted and gelled in its usual style, but he had forgone the glasses, and his serious gaze was as intense as ever as he narrowed them playfully at you.

God if you didn’t have anywhere to go, you would be on your knees in a second.

“What have I done?”

You were quick, shooting Ome wide eyes, mouth loaded with an admonishing retort. “Ome don’t—”

“I was telling her how good she looked. She seems more happy than usual and she’s finally getting more comfortable with that new mommy body..so I assumed you’ve been putting her to sleep.”

Why did you even bother with her?

Kento hummed softly, pursing his lips as if in thought before chuckling softly to himself.

“Well I’m glad my efforts are paying off.”

You gawked, blushing furiously and barking an insult at Ome as she threw her head back and guffawed into the air.

***

Rory’s exhibits were usually lavish—at least lavish for a small town like Yoyogi. But this was another level entirely. Choso exuded his status in the ceramic world. Artists that you had grown up studying in your spare time and only dreamt of meeting were within walking distance. Waiters dressed in sleek black uniforms floated along marble floors with plates of champagne flutes and hors d’oeuvres. Faint notes of classical impressionist music wafted through the air, created an atmosphere of sophistication and wealth as you took in each piece. The unease of being out of place was thick in your stomach upon your arrival, but all too quickly Kento’s presence was enough to make you forget about it all.

Because Kento, like the clingy man he was, couldn’t go five minutes without his hands on you. Familiar fingers skimmed along the slope of your exposed shoulder as you leaned over to inspect one of Choso’s monolith sculptures. A firm hand caressed the curve of your waist and the small of your back to lead you through the crowd of people when you were ready to proceed to the next pillar. Ever the soft man he was, ever the gentleman, but still always within reach.

And it was true, Kento prided himself on being a gentleman and upheld that standard every single day.

But tonight, he was slipping and since he set eyes on you in your room earlier, he was itching to get you alone.

You’d been turning heads all night and had been too happy and absorbed in your own world to notice. You smiled up at him as you explained Choso’s firing and glazing techniques. You pulled Ome and Chiyo about the room to show them your favorite pieces. The low lights against your creamy brown skin seemed to make you glow. Your perfume had his mind hazy and resisting the urge to bury his nose into your neck. With every gentle click of your heels against the floor, the black dress he had been undressing all night in his mind showed long expanses of your leg and thigh. You were the most exotic and ethereal creature in the room.

And all his.

Before you, Kento had been satisfied with his lack of jealousy. He knew his worth and what he wanted in a companion; and when the moment came, he knew that she had chosen him for a reason.

But that was before you had come storming into his life. Talented and teasing and beautiful.

So, when he caught the slimy purple eyes of a scrawny man with long blonde hair looking at your ass for a third time that night, he couldn’t deny the slight twinge of discontent that flared inside of him.

“Squeezing me a little tight there,” you spoke softly, chuckling with an uneasy gaze as Kento locked eyes with someone behind you. His hold on your hip loosened, narrow eyes blinking down in your direction before he offered a soft apology. His face was colored with a thin veil of annoyance and irritation, and while never directed at you, it was still rare to see in your presence.

“Is someone bothering you?” You made to turn around, hoping to catch a glimpse of whoever seemed to put a frown on your boyfriend’s face. But instead, his hand slid against your cheek, palming the skin to stroke with his thumb and directing your gaze back to him. Expression softening but still holding a glint of anger, a small smile fell on his features.

“It’s nothing and I don’t want you thinking about anything else other than this. Choso gave you VIP tickets for his own exhibit and now you’re finally here. Enjoy it.” He ran his thumb over your eyebrows, smoothing away the sharp dip in them both to erase as much confusion from your face as possible. “As I recall, you still have five more pillars to show me.”

That did the trick. With a faux glower up at him, you laced your fingers through his and pulled him along.

Half an hour later, you were fully engrossed in a conversation with Kento when you heard Choso speaking from the front of the room. You didn’t pay too much attention, your mind elsewhere as he thanked everyone for coming, spoke about the inspiration behind this year’s collection, and listed those who had offered their unwavering support.

“This year, I wanted to add something new to my collection. An artist that I collaborated with that I hope you all will enjoy.”

The pillar next to him was covered in a black sheet. Throughout the night, your eyes had lingered on what it could have been, but you didn’t give it much thought. Choso lifted the sheet, unsheathing the contents beneath.

Kento’s hum of surprise should have been your first indication that what you were looking at wasn’t in your imagination. You blinked once, squinting and trying to recall faint memories of yourself to test your cognition and ensure you were in your right mind. The pieces looked familiar. Vaguely you remembered sketching, throwing and glazing them yourself.

But that couldn’t be. You had packed them up and given them to Choso just a week prior.

Your ears felt like cotton had been rammed inside, the faint words from Choso’s mouth and mutters from the crowd around you muffled and stuffy.

“It’s hard to find artists who understand your passion. Even harder to find those who have said passion and can convey beautiful things with nothing at all. These pieces belong to a friend that I’ve only recently made. They are not for sale, so don’t ask or berate her. But I owe these all to F/n, l/n.”

The bottom of your heels felt rooted to the spot, sinking into the marble floor as Choso’s gaze locked with yours, and the people around you turned to follow suit. He hadn’t called you. That wasn’t your work on the shiny black stone pillar. Surely you were dreaming. You were dreaming that the eyes directed at you and the soft applause garnered your way was a small snippet of something you would remember when you woke up.

Kento’s hands gently cradled your upper arms, rubbing and ushering you forward with a slight chuckle behind you. You were on autopilot as you took timid steps to stand next to Choso, beads of sweat cold on the back of your neck once with the sudden and dreadful realization that you were now the center of attention. You didn’t know what to say, your mind was still trying to keep up, heart beating hard against your ribcage, mouth dry and sticky.

You bowed softly, muttering an embarrassed and soft thank you before the room broke into applause again. Your eyes traced over your pieces as they lay in front of you, shiny and brand new and reflecting just how hard you had worked.

“I’m sorry to have put you on the spot,” Choso admitted, his voice tunneling through the dying sounds of ringing in your ears as you blinked back into the present. “I honestly didn’t plan to make a collaboration. But the minute Yuji showed me your page, I had to. I also knew that if I told you my plan, you might have created something with the goal of impressing, not being genuine.” Deep purple eyes flickered up to Kento who stood silently beside you. “I’m afraid I’ve broken her.”

You couldn’t help the chuckle that rattled from the tight confines of your chest, shaking you firmly and making you aware of the crowd that had dispersed and the lingering people who eyed your work from afar.

The path to get to this exact moment had suddenly been carved up, rooted from its spot in firm soil that you had patted down yourself and paved over with material you weren’t familiar with.

Build a small following, take on commissions until you gained your confidence, and then just hope that you would have a lucky break one day.

Clean cut and simple, even if a little modest compared to your intense disposition for hard work.

But Choso had given the order to carve up that path, pulled you to the side with a vague distraction of a commission that you thought would sit privately in his house, and then placed you back on shiny floors and only a few steps from your goal.

“Excuse me?”

The voice, deep and feminine, pulled you once again from your anxious thoughts. And when you saw her, your heart gave what felt like the millionth lurch of the night. You had studied her work alongside Choso’s and so many prolific artists in your intense years of college, had tried to make your own sketches from the sight of her pictures that she posted online, had admired her from afar all night and been too shy to introduce yourself. Yuki Tsukumo, a decade older than you with twice as much experience and classical training, stood in front of you with flowing blonde hair and a red dress that clung to a strong and lean figure.

“I hate to interrupt, but I wanted to snag you before others did. I’d love to know your process.”

Your mouth opened, then closed again, neurons in your brain misfiring and the command to speak lost in the midst.

Thumbs from Kento’s hands still on your shoulders stroked against your skin, spreading warmth with each pass.

“My love, your mouth is open, but no words are coming out.”

“R-right!” you squeaked, blushing furiously and pushing through the thick bushels of embarrassment in your chest, grabbing the small nestle of courage inside before you opened your mouth to speak.

“I don’t know what to say,” you whispered to Choso an hour later, your voice thick and heavy with overwhelming emotion.

The exhibit was still in full swing, but you’d finally been given a small morsel of time by yourself. Sweaty hands clutched a stack of business cards; Yuki Tsukumo at the top, four more famous artists beneath, and a plethora of attendees at the bottom. All with their contact information, all pressed delicately into your hands with the wish for you to contact them and set up time for a commission. All curious to know more about you, marveling at your process and inspiration, fascinated by you.

The confusion of it all had passed by the time Yuki gave you a warm hug with a promise to get lunch with you the next time she was in town. Such a trivial thing to say from someone so revered in the world that you were barely dipping your toes in.

Pale hands covered yours, the fresh black polish of Choso’s fingernails shining up at you against the dim lights in the room. He squeezed, pulsing warmth into sweaty and tingly fingers.

“Surely, you wanted to get this far?” You swallowed, your throat contracting around a painful ball of emotion in your throat that was threatening to crawl up and out of your mouth. “Everyone in this room; Yuki, the other ceramic artists who I invited, even your uncle, are all people who have worked hard to get here. I don’t entertain myself with those who boost the confidence of others of the same status, just for glorification. You are unique and I want to keep you in my little circle of unique people for as long as I can, so you come out into our world still holding pieces of yourself. There’s no need to be shy. I’m sure you have work in your own studio that you probably never thought would see the light of day. And yet here you are.”

Echoes of none too distant memories were suddenly flashing in your mind; Kento guiding you along Rory’s exhibit just months prior, listening to you gush about your uncle’s work and brushing away all attempts of Kento boosting confidence in yourself.

“Where do you think you get the trait from? You have work in your studio that could be sitting right on these pillars tonight.”

“I will say it until you begin to realize and then continue to do so; you have a gift.”

Emotion that was once bubbling in your belly, surged up into your chest, pressing against the bone of your sternum until it began to splinter, seeping through the cracks and trailing hot overwhelming waves of pride through your veins. The force of it made you pull in a deep inhale, eyes blinking rapidly to oust the faint traces of tears along your lashes.

“Thank you,” your voice was a little stronger, but you couldn’t trust yourself to say much more without bursting into tears.

So, you didn’t.

And Choso, who could see the rising flood of emotion in your eyes, brought still clasped hands to his mouth and pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles. His tired eyes caught Yuki far behind you, shyly admiring her form while she talked to Rory, mustering courage he had cultivated for years in her presence but never opening his mouth enough to use it. He excused himself and meandered timidly in her direction.

The hum of everyone around you settled your nerves and you used the lull in privacy to take deep-seated breaths into your lungs to shackle yourself into the present. And when you finally turned around to face out into the crowd, you fell short when a man blocked your way.

There wasn’t much to him; average height but still a little taller than you, long blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail on the left side of his head, deep purple eyes that looked a little more unnerving than sincere.

He was kind with a gentle disposition despite the three faint markings beneath each eye. And as he fumbled over compliments of your work and explained how much he wished he had enough time in his busy schedule to frequent galleries, your eyes flickered past him in search of Kento so you could make your way over when this conversation was done.

Said man was already on his way, pushing down waves of indignation as the man rested a hand on your shoulder. He told himself to be calm, to focus his attention on his mother as she asked about Ulani and work, to reason that you knew exactly what you were doing.

He didn’t doubt you—would never doubt you. You didn’t need anyone to speak for you.

But the man in front of you had leered at you one too many times when you weren’t looking, had slithered his eyes over Kento’s own hand that caressed your waist. He felt unhinged responding to the frustration in his chest and hated how freely he rode with the primal urge in his veins to make sure everyone in this room knew you were his.

“There you are, love.” Kento was suddenly by your side, interrupting the man—who he found out was named Haruta Shigemo—and wrapping a muscular arm around your waist. Shigemo’s purple pupils flickered down at your waist, taking in the way Kento’s hand lay against your curves in loud but also silent exclamation that this was a battle Kento would always win unless you cast him out.

In only a few short seconds, you had taken in all you needed from their silent but heated battle with each other. You fought the urge to roll your eyes and made your way past Shigemo, muttering how nice it was to meet him before wading into the crowd toward your family and friends.

Rory had to practically shove you inside of the car when it was time to leave.

“You both are either working or taking care of your daughter, have a night to yourselves. I’ve taken care of you plenty of times when you were a baby, I can do the same for Ulani. Have a nice night, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

He kissed your cheek goodnight before you could protest any further and Ome was already leaning down to speak to you through the open window, blocking you from trying to escape.

“I’m so proud of you,” Ome whispered, raspy voice low and airy, admiring you with years of affection that only you would ever receive. “And I love you.”

“Love you too, Ome.”

“You deserve to be celebrated.” The gentle moment didn’t last for long, with a heavy clearing of her throat, she threw an elegantly arched brow in your direction. You could taste the beginnings of an inappropriate remark, loaded in her mouth with a stench that you could smell a mile away. “So, remember, whatever you can’t fit into your mouth, use your hand. Twist the wrist as you come up and—”

“You’re so fucking annoying,” you hissed playfully, swatting at her through the open window.

***

The cityscape was breathtaking, with the moon shining through high clouds and a sprinkle of snow beginning to fall, all of Nakameguro had been cast into silence as it settled in for the night. Distant notes of one of Kento’s records floated about his living room, sliding against the books on his overcrowded bookshelf, dancing over the vacant and plush long sofa you used to sink into, and then over to you, wrapping around your body like the warmest blanket you could ever imagine.

You pulled in a long breath, the warm air drifting down your throat and into your lungs, expanding your chest with fluttering sensations of happiness. You were happy. So truly happy and proud of how far you’d come from your own hard work and the people who had walked into your life.

“Ulani is perfectly fine,” Kento called from the hallway, his low and always commanding voice growing closer as he made his way across the room. “Megumi says that she was amazing with him and Rory is already reading her a book before he gets her ready for bed.”

“Megumi would be the type to prefer babysitting over socializing.”

“Gojo practically raised him. Came into his life our senior year of high school. He’s the complete antithesis of Gojo. Thank god.”

You snorted, elbowing his arm when he slunk up next to you. “You should have let me speak to her.”

Kento rolled his eyes dramatically. “Darling, she has no idea what a phone is or how it works. Hearing your voice but not seeing you would only have made her cry.”

“Will you humor me for once!” You giggled up at him, smacking him on the bicep again and ignoring the way your fingers carded around muscle. “Besides, I’m a little upset with you anyway.”

You weren’t, but it was funny to see dark blonde eyebrows furrow mildly even though brown eyes flashed back at you with equal mirth.

“And what have I done to upset you?” Long fingers pressed against your necklace to smooth out the kinks, calloused fingertips dragging goosebumps along your skin.

“I saw the way you looked at Shigemo.”

“So he has a name,” he muttered, eyes focused on the movement of his fingers, ignoring the tumultuous waves of insecurity in his chest as you chuckled weakly up at him.

“My, my. Nanami Kento, Director of Strategic Partnerships, are you jealous—”

“No,” he interrupted, deep and low timbre of a voice firm and resolute. Stoic mahogany eyes commanded your attention, holding you tight with invisible hands on your hips. “I’m not a jealous man. But I am protective, especially of you.”

You couldn’t help the severity of your eyes rolling from his response.

“I don’t need you to protect me, Ken. I can take care of myself. Which, yes, I know that you understand that. But he was only being nice—”

“Nice or not,” cutting you off, voice suddenly icy and face flaring with a hint of anger before it washed away. “He did nothing but leer at you all night. Every time I saw him, his eyes couldn’t help but stare right at your ass or the way I held you. I was being protective because he made me uneasy. I should have told you when I first saw but I didn’t want to distract you from your night. I’m sorry. I truly didn’t mean to upset you.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, pulling your gaze from him as you let his words sink into your skin. The furrow between his brows deepened, skin wrinkling with frustration in himself as the silence stretched further. He couldn’t look at you; being caught was embarrassing enough. So he kept his gaze on the faint shine of your necklace instead, dragging a fingertip along the unique surface.

“How can I make it up to you?” he asked, tone somber and shy.

For once when it came to sex, you could make him fluster. You could make him blush like a schoolboy and fumble over his words. You both were always in control when fucking; giving and taking every time. But he always held a sway over you that could make you relax into his words and embrace.

So you were going to enjoy this.

“I’m not so sure, Kento,” you began, jutting your chin up at him, radiating defiance as much as you could. Umber irises snapped up from your necklace, smoldering in their heated gaze as he began to taste the shift in the air. “First Pia and now this? Your offenses are stacking up. You’ll need to really show me how sorry you are.”

You should have planned this better, should have thought of your comebacks a little more thoroughly in your head before the words left your mouth. Because with just one step in your direction even though you both were already so close, your chest was constricting like a vice as you held your breath and staggered slowly back.

Cold glass against the exposed parts of your back made you gasp, the icy touch bringing a tingly rise of goosebumps up your spine. He towered over you, casting a tight cocoon of his rich cologne that was thickening from the growing heat between you both. Kento reached for you, sliding a large palm up the side of your body, dipping and rising with the map of your curves, the side of your breast, over the exposed skin of your clavicle and then to rest on the side of your neck. A rough thumb ran along the plushness of your bottom lip and then he was looking at you again, gentle affection now slowly brewing into something else.

“May I?” he asked, darting his eyes down at your lips to ask for permission.

“I…I suppose you can,” you whispered, voice small and shy. His hold on the side of your neck slid around to your nape, tightening slightly before pulling your head back to look up at him.

He didn’t speak, his presence all over you, suffocating you slowly, pulling you under a rush of waves that you knew you wouldn’t rise from for a very long time. Mingled breath of champagne from him and peppermint from your lip gloss danced between your lips, cold and electrifying as he exhaled softly into you and molded himself to you, brushing a thick tongue along your bottom lip before you granted him access. He used his hold on your neck to angle you up more toward him, opening yourself up more so that he could take and show just how much he was willing to give back. Another hand against the dip in your waist gripped firmly with a scalding touch that began to burn through the fabric of your dress.

That defiance you had culminated in only a short time as means of a joke evaporated the moment his lips pressed against yours. Because now you were falling, sighing softly into the air from the wet brush of his lips against the side of your neck and then down. Down and along the skin of your collarbone, over the tops of your breasts before he returned back to your lips, stealing what little remained in your lungs. Heavy breathing against your own, his clothed chest brushed against you as he pecked your lips once, and then again before slowly descending down to rest on his knees in front of you.

The sight of him below you, ready to worship had your heart racing, going a mile a minute in your chest and then stuttering when you felt a hot hand on the skin of your leg. He trailed it upwards, mapping out the saphenous veins just underneath your skin and brushing the high slit of your dress out of his way. A subtle squeeze on your knee and an even firmer grip into the fat of your thigh before he was throwing the exposed leg over his shoulder, opening you up to him. Your cunt fluttered beneath black panties from Kento’s transfixed gaze, blown out pupils burning through the thin layer of insecurity over you.

He pressed a soft kiss to your panty covered clit, dragged his thick tongue along the cloth, the touch electrifying enough to pull a yelp of surprise from your lips and smack hands against the cold glass pressing into your back. You felt the air of the room hit your core again, sharper this time from Kento’s act of pulling your panties to the side.

“Look at you baby, you’re dripping. You’re so wet, darling. So, so wet for me.”

Without his eyes on you, it gave you time to compose yourself through the storm of lust that had taken root inside of you. But it didn’t last long; with a firm squeeze to your thigh again, he silently commanded you. And like so many times before when you were incoherent from the touch of him, you obeyed and looked down, eyes locked with his as he licked along the slit of your pussy from entrance to clit.

The moan that left your lips was louder than you intended, eyes shutting tight instantly as pleasure shot up from the base of your spine and grasped at the back of your neck. Kento ate you out like a man starved, long and thick tongue swirling around your clit in a gentle touch before plunging between your folds to dip inside of you. You let the whine in the back of your throat free, combing a hand through thick blonde strands and tightening hard in a silent demand for more.

One finger slid into you, wet from your slick and pumping languidly with the ebb and flow of your moans; then two, then three. You loved the stretch, hated waiting so long for that final finger so they could curl against the spot inside of you that had both hands now knuckle tight in his hair. His thick tongue flicked against your clit, pulling it into his mouth before sucking hard, fingers scissoring and curling inside of you with a practiced touch that made you arch against the glass and drag your head along the surface.

He brushed against that spot in you once, and then again, and again with eyes never leaving the reactions of your body; your stomach clenching as you felt your walls squeeze his fingers, your arms beginning to shake as the familiar heat of an orgasm rose from the base of your spine. You shook out another moan, willpower to control your volume slipping entirely. You whined, higher and higher, the pleasure crawling up your skin, leaving hot searing promises of euphoria in its wake.

And with a sharp curl of his fingers and another firm suck of his mouth on your clit, your orgasm pulled from behind your belly button; your muscles pulling tight and voice shaking from your throat as you moaned his name harsh and loud into the air.

With languid licks and fingers slowing in their intensity, he worked you down from your high with the gentle caress you knew and loved. When you mustered up enough breath to swallow without struggle and finally look down at him, it was no surprise of the hunger that shot back your way. You moaned from the feel of his fingers sliding out of you and flinched when he pressed another soft kiss to your puffy pussy before he stood to tower over you again.

Your eyes stayed locked on his as you grabbed his hand, bringing slick covered fingers to your own mouth and remaining deadlocked with your gaze as you swirled your tongue around the digits and sucked his fingers clean. His exhale from the action was burning against you, long and deep with a hiss in the back of his throat as he watched the pink of your tongue dip between his fingers.

You smiled softly—teasingly as always—against his hand.

“Take me to bed.”

And that’s how you found yourself only seconds later, standing in front of his large and wide bed and shuddering from his touch as he pulled the zipper of your dress down and moved you to sit on the bed. You made to reach for your heels, completely forgotten since walking into his apartment when—

“Keep them on,” he rumbled at you, eyes caressing every inch of exposed skin as you shrugged off your bra and slid back until your head was resting on plush pillows. With hands unbuttoning his shirt, he whispered softly across the room. “You know what to do. Spread those legs for me, baby.”

Digging your teeth into you bottom lip, you followed his command, spreading your legs and digging your heels into his sheets, opening yourself up for him and pushing your panties to the side before he could ask. That familiar flare of impatience you often felt during sex licked up your chest, taking over your body so that you could reach down and begin to rub circles on your clit.

“Don’t keep me waiting,” you whined, holding in a chuckle as he fumbled with the belt and zipper of his hands and yanked them down with his boxers. In all his nakedness with corded muscle and a thin downy trail that led to a familiar thick cock hanging between his legs, you felt your pussy flutter from the sight of him, still circling your clit languidly as he crawled on the bed towards you.

“Fuck me, Ken.”

He hissed out a sharp curse, trailing wet lips up the skin of your thighs, up the twitching muscles of your stomach, a hot swipe of his tongue along the underside of your breasts before circling a nipple into his waiting mouth. The muscle, thick and wet pressed and flicked against you, a hand coming to knead and pinch your other breast to make sure nothing is without his touch. You arched against him, sighed softly into his caress, bucked your hips with every flick of his tongue against your nipple. When he alternated with an even more gentle touch, you whined for him, beckoning him to give you the throbbing cock that hung between his legs, desperate in your pleasure.

He responded to your call like always, angling muscular hips toward you. The first touch of him against you was always jarring, and you jumped for a second before he smoothed away your nerves with a velvety kiss and a hand on your hip before pushing into you slowly. The hand not on your hip reached up to cradle the side of your neck, a thumb stroking your cheek again to keep himself in check and blink through the nasty thoughts in his head as you clenched and squeezed around him. No matter how many times you had both done this, the feel of you around him had his mind scrambling for purchase in sanity.

You dug manicured fingernails into his back, whimpering in impatience and titling your hips so that he could slide further into you. The rock of his hips was sinful, and your eyes were rolling into the back of your head as he began to pick up his pace minutes later. He was so hot against you, so overwhelming and all-encompassing and here, here right now inside of you, giving you everything without having to say a word.

He knew every inch of you, every crevice, every scar, every mole and dusting of hair. But every single time you were beneath him, the beauty of you had his chest drawing tight, painful and squeezing, mind overwhelmed with the thought that this was real. From the sound of you panting and moaning into the air between you both, the feel of your fingernails digging into his back, the sight of the frizz of your hair that was still in a bun and the sheen of sweat that was beginning to form along the skin of your neck and between your breasts that bounced with each pump of him inside of you…you were—

“Beautiful,” he whispered, tilting your hips and angling his thrusts in a way that had you moaning sharply and arching into him. Your back curved up into him, panting harshly in disbelief and shuddering as he found the one spot you needed to take you to a blissful finish.

“Ken—,” you hiccupped, trying to seek purchase on his sweaty back, fingers slipping as he pulled away to sit up on his knees. Large hands on your hips pulled you softly towards him before hooking behind your knees and pushing them towards your chest. You were open, sweaty and gushing your slick around his cock, cheeks hot with embarrassment at being so exposed but mind hazy and numb with pleasure. The stroke of him in you felt more full, more splitting and he was able to curve and dip against that spongy spot with ease.

Your hands reached over your head, fingers digging into the soft fabric of his pillows to tether yourself as much as you could.

You hated how quickly you could fall apart, how quickly you could glare and challenge him but be a moaning mess only seconds later. You hated that he knew just what to do.

Fuck, you’re a terrible liar.

“You always take me so well, baby. I love looking at you like this. So fucking beautiful. The prettiest little thing I’ll ever have. That I’ll ever want.”

Burning at the base of your spine was quick to bubble to the surface, breaking past the veil from your previous orgasm and sliding over the edges of your muscles to pull them tight. Your cunt fluttered around him, spasmed with each smack of his hips against yours, the sound of skin on skin echoing in his large bedroom and each brush of his lower abdominals against your clit had you moaning tightly and arching your back to press your head into the pillows.

The sounds of his low groans between you, the sight of your knees pushed into your chest, folding you into a mating press as he fucked you hard and deep, your heels rocking limply with each thrust, it was hitting a spot in your mind and within your cunt that had you choking on a moan as vestiges of an orgasm fluttered to life in your lower belly.

“Fuck Kento—” you choked, words falling short from the tension in your stomach and lower back. He never needed you to say it out loud. He knew you, inside and out, with every thrust and bead of sweat and pitch in your sounds. A hand slid down the spread of a sweaty leg, trailing burning and heavy on your skin before a thumb began to rub circles on your clit. You moaned loud in response, unashamed of the volume. “Please.”

“I’ve got you, love,” he panted against you, slanting his lips against your panting ones, swallowing your moans before he pulled away and licked your bottom lip. “Cum for me. Let go and make a mess all over me.”

He applied a little more pressure to your clit, kept up the same tempo and between that and the feel of his cock hitting you in just the way you liked, you were curling your toes in your heels, arching your back and shouting into the air. Your orgasm snapped like a rubber band, sharp and slapping on the ends before falling into the hot lava in your belly. The tempo of his thrusts slowed, lips parted as he whispered soft praises of—That’s it. Such a good girl. Take everything you need— into the space between your lips.

You were floating, smiling loosely up at him and curving your neck to give him access to press hushed affection into your skin. Even though you were blissed out beyond belief, you could see the lust still in his eyes, blown out pupils straining from holding back his own orgasm.

Wordlessly, you pushed him away, sighing pleasantly as he slid out of you. Your limbs were heavy and begging you to slip beneath the covers and sleep; but instead you rolled onto your hands and knees, arching until your chest pressed into the sheets and smiling confidently from the sound of him behind you.

“Shit,” he hissed, praying to whomever would listen for the woman in his bed, sinful black heels, a delicious arch in her back, creamy brown legs spread, panties soaked and pushed to the side, and a wet pussy winking at him. Kento watched in disbelief as you reached between your legs to spread yourself, pulling puffy folds of your pussy apart and chuckling softly from the vacant look in his eyes.

“You’re supposed to be showing me how sorry you are,” you muttered, eyes hooded as you watched him grab the base of his cock to stave off coming before making his way to you; pressing a hand against the cleft of your ass while the other gathered your slick on his cock and he slid home.

Within minutes, the faint traces of overstimulation from your last orgasm had bled into reawakening embers of the one you were about to experience. Kento slid a hand along your skin, snapping the edge of your panties against your hip before carding through the thin layer of sweat in the dip of your spine. His thrusts were unchanging, never ceasing even as he dug fingers into your neat bun and pulled your curls loose. They cascaded over your shoulders and his fingers carded through the tresses and around your neck, sliding against your cheek and jaw and pulling you up onto your hands so he could turn your head to the side and look at him.

Blonde hair was messy and matted to his forehead, free from its gel and sophisticated part and falling over to graze the tops of his serious eyes.

He was so beautiful. Even panting and red faced and a crazed look in his eyes, he was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

“The sight of that man did make me angry,” he panted calmly against your lips. “He leered and ogled at you like he wanted to do the nastiest things. And while I was protective of you, I was never jealous. I have no reason to be. Do you know why?”

You shook your head, breaths shaking out from your lungs from the force of his thrusts. Cooling lava began to heat again from the look that he gave you.

“I have no reason to be because even if you ever gave him the chance, he would have no idea what to do.” Your pussy clenched hard around him from the implication of his words and he smiled around a groan before he slid a hot tongue along the skin of your shoulder before biting into the crease of your neck. You yelped. “He doesn’t know that you like to be talked through it, probably wouldn’t even know what to say. He doesn’t know that you need three fingers to stretch you open or that you like a tongue sliding on your skin and your ass slapped when you’re getting it just the way you want.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Your hooded eyes were wide with disbelief as you panted and whimpered against his lips. Umber irises were thin rings as he spoke, his words filled with growing filth, but his expression just as calm and loving and serene.

“Shigemo can’t handle your nails down his back or the way you squeeze just right when I’m whispering in your ear. He couldn’t handle giving you the three, four, five orgasms you deserve before he’s had his fill.” He kissed you gently, a blatant contrast to the way his hips were smacking against the back of yours. “He doesn’t know any of it. He couldn’t handle any of it. But I do…and I can. Isn’t that right, baby?” You nodded furiously, blushing in every way imaginable, bashful from his words even though he was fucking you like you were being paid for it.

Unsatisfied with your lack of verbal response, he smacked your ass, the sound loud and feel stinging and surging with heat and pleasure that had you whimpering sharply against him.

“Yes! Y-yes, Ken—fuck!”

He hummed against you, kissing the skin of your shoulder in satisfaction. “Talk to me. Tell me what I can do better, baby.”

You shook your head quickly, curly tresses brushing against your cheeks and jolting from the thrusts of the man between your legs. The lava was hot again, oozing in the pit of your belly, bubbling and boiling over and fraying your nervous system to the point that your muscles were beginning to stiffen in response.

“Nothing better. It feels so good…you feel so good. Please, Kento.”

“Who’s fucking you right now?”

“You are..!” you whimpered, your thighs beginning to shake and your pussy tightening around him from his words and thrusts.

The room was filled with the sound of skin on skin, the panting from your mouths, the whimpers and moans from your throat against his groans, and the sound of the headboard slapping against his wall. Vaguely, you thought of neighbors, but then you realized he had none and you could moan wantonly for as long as you wanted in his penthouse suite in the clouds of Nakameguro.

“Who always makes you feel this good?”

“You do—fuck, Ken!”

“Why?”

“Because you want me,” you whined, eyes filling with emotional tears and pleasure and need.

A hard thrust.

“Why, y/n.”

“Because you love me.” Another hard thrust and a squeak from your lips. “And I love you.”

“That’s my girl,” he exhaled into you, satisfaction and affection bleeding from his skin and onto your back. He guided you to arch your back again, letting you relax your cheek into the pillows before he picked up the pace inside of you with a hard grip on your hips and faint praises and kisses on your skin.

You were on fire, burning from the inside out as you crept closer and closer to coming harder than you ever had before. He had never spoken to you like this, had never teetered the line between aggression and lavish affection.

It was a foreign feeling, but you loved it.

You loved the way his teeth bit into your skin, loved the way he showered you with worship in the most outlandish way, loved the way muscular hips smacked against yours and the sound of faint moans leaving his own breath as he got closer to his end. A hand in your curls and a gentle tug made him pull your head back by your hair, arching into the sheets and bringing your growing moans into the air of his room.

You prayed to the gods that this orgasm would break the record for the most powerful that you would ever feel. There was no way you wouldn’t get there. Not when he was grabbing you just right, saying the right words, fucking you so well that you were convinced the cloudiness in your vision wasn’t tears anymore.

A harsh grunt from his lips and his fingers against your clit had your body clenching further and your fingers digging into the sheets below you.

“Cum for me, baby. Give me one more. One more for me, please and I’ll give you everything.”

You didn’t need much more encouragement. From the wet movements on your clit and the thick cock making a home inside of you, that cord of pleasure broke with little force and the waves that rushed through had you choking on a wail and shuddering to a degree that had yourself concerned. Your blood was pumping in your ears, sloshing and fast and muffling the sound of him groaning against the skin of your neck as he pumped with renewed fervor inside of you.

He was close, so close and sweaty and sloppy in his movements, balls drawing tight against him and a tingling along his skin. The feel of you tight and hot and even more wet around him made his blood boil and his lower back ache.

“Give it to me, Ken,” you turned your head and whispered against his lips, sweaty and satisfied. “Tear this pussy up and fill me to the brim.”

The nastiness of your words caught him by surprise and only catapulted him to his end, his orgasm ripping from the base of his spine as he twitched and tensed and spilled inside of you with a harsh moan and deep bite to the side of your neck. The sound of him moaning harshly faded into sighs against you, his teeth in your neck pulling away with a feel of his tongue sliding over the marks. He was shaking against your back as you relaxed into the sheets, basking in the warmth from him and the growing ache in your body.

When he could feel the air in his lungs again, and when the suddenly cold air against his sweaty skin made him shiver for a different reason, he slid out of you slowly, locking away the sound of your pleasant sigh as he did so. He sagged into the sheets, planting face first before turning his head to look at you. Your own cheek was pressed into his pillows, faint hints of eucalyptus and woodsy cologne tickling your nose as you blinked blearily at him and smiled gently.

You wanted to throw a little comment his way, a joke to make the moment weird like you usually did after sex. But just like Ome had annoyingly teased earlier today, Kento had dicked you down whole heartedly and thoroughly that you rolled your eyes from the smug look on his face.

“You’ve been awfully quiet,” he mumbled against you, chest rumbling along the skin of your back. You reach down into the hot water to grab the large hand once on your thigh. Pulling it out of the water with yours, watching as droplets fell off his smooth skin and back into the tub with you both, you carded your fingers through his.

“You fucked me pretty good.”

He snorted against the skin of your shoulder, watching as you wiggled your fingers between the crevices of his own.

“Don’t be crude.”

“Compared to what you were whispering in my ear as you fucked me within an inch of my life? Don’t even.” Kento chuckled, harsh and loud, rare and treasured that made you smile from the sound. “To be honest…I’m just happy. These past few weeks. Today. I’ve never felt this much pride besides when Ulani was born.”

He was quiet, not offering a response as you turned your clasped hands back and forth, watching the cords of muscle in his forearms bunch and ripple. The mouth on your shoulder puckered into a kiss.

“I’m glad you’re happy. Every last piece of happiness is what you deserve. You’ve worked hard your entire life, and now others can finally see what your family and friends see. What I see.” Your relaxed into his chest, angling your head up to look at him. Soft brown eyes looked back down at you, endless waves of love billowing from his skin to wash over you. “Do you finally see it? When I say that you have a gift?”

That wash of emotion you felt standing in front of Choso suddenly made itself known again. But it had coiled more, grew with more memories and smiles and words from everyone around you.

“All thanks to you,” you whispered up at him and was shocked from the scoff that he gave you in reply.

“The only thing I did was give you the words you needed to hear. I made that page for you, but you could have easily deactivated it. I organized a tour at Choso’s gallery, but I did nothing to inspire him to ask you for a commission or include you in his collection….I did the same for you as you did me. Turned you in the right direction and let yourself do the rest. This has all been you.”

Your eyes fluttered from the surge of tears that began to cloud your vision, pressing into him more to siphon every ounce of affection he had to spare.

“Even still,” you whispered, voice tight and strained. “I love you.”

He pressed his lips to yours in response, pulled away to kiss your cheek, the side of your neck where he had bit into you, the wet skin of your shoulder. Damp blonde strands brushed against you as he laid his cheek on your shoulder, turning his head into you to brush his nose along the column of your neck. A deep inhale from his chest, satisfied and blissfully happy, before exhaling against you and squeezing the hand that was still intwined with yours.

“I love you too.”

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delusionally-loveless-by-choice · 6 months

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Random Bo Sinclair Headcanons!!

authors' note: these are def just personally influenced, and if im being honest this was in my drafts for like.. a year and a half I think, and well I wrote it in the dead of night and was emotional and delirious. anyway, if u like any of these or wanna discuss his pass leave a note or reblog!!

Bo likes reading—mostly nonfiction but he has read a good amount of fiction when he gets his greasy hands on them. He needs glasses to read sometimes. reads when he isn't busy, andusually is before before (if he isn't drunk lol)

He likes to sketch—in his childhood Vince was the artist, just naturally good at it. His parents hoped Bo could have an artistic talent as well, but soon gave up when they realized he was too much to handle. Bo always liked to randomly doodle when he got bored. Likes to doodle whatever he can, in his youth it was usually just funny sketches of people that he'd make fun of

Has a great ass singing voice—first heard him humming in the garage to some song. Later that day after Bo n u got a couple of beers down, the music was low and playing and you heard him just belt it out. Sure it mostly comes out when he’s drunk but gad damn . You just egg him on because you need more bo singing voice.

He likes a lot of alt music. Loud shit. Metal. Rock. Etc. But he’s also secretly into classic romantic shit., (to me personally just the vibe of romantic older music, but im bad w names so like idk songs like put your head on my shoulder dunno)

He has like only three different caps that he circulates through. Theyre all dirty so help him out here, gift him a new one or help him wash them bec them caps are dirty as shi

He just has stickers and he puts them almost everywhere. In certain spots on the truck, in the garage, on his tool box case, etc. Some are from the people he and his brother catch, and others are ones he's gotten on his own over time (there's a sticker in his truck that is most definitely a hello kitty sticker, he denies it was him but he stuck it on when he was plastered and is unable to rip the sticker off its place)

Never learned how to ride a bicycle. Him and his brothers not having the best upbringing, they never really got those bonding moments. I imagine one day after finding a bicycle, and assuming you know how to ride one, he just looks at you as if you discovered a new planet. he never considered that other people knew how to ride those things. So surprised and impressed. He wont ask you to teach him so you kinda have to like coax him to try it. Would definitely get frustrated. I also imagine that if theres a possibility of kids, and he sees you teaching them how to ride a bike he would definitely be holding back tears when he sees you teaching them how to ride a bike (he'll join in bec he wants to learn too but he'd just stand on the side until you tell him to try it)

loll I edited them but I wrote these so long ago and many are def jus self-indulgent . fucj it they head canons for a reason ;)

#dlbc~🤍#bo sinclair #bo sinclair/reader #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair fanfic #house of wax 2005 #house of wax #bo sinclair headcanons #bo sinclair house of wax

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sinning-23 · 9 months

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My Latest crush is an alien car from space Pt.2

Okay so iwasnt expecting so many Mirage smps to like up my post but HEYYY welcome home yall lmao. Heres part two and let me know is yall want like a tag list for the next couple parts. ANywhoo there's some tension that forms this chapter so start getting ready for more flirty and spicyyyy interactions with old boy.

Heres the link to pt.1

Heres the link to pt.3 shawty

ANywho ENJOY!

Pt.2

Touch me softly

Mirage had allowed you to explore his anatomy, and he was more willing than you thought. You had managed to make a nice little sketch of his body and made 4 separate copies to try and get a placement in where everything was. Then you had 5 more separate sheets just in case there were some more internal systems you wanted to note. He watched as your eye brown pinched and formed a line on your forehead and your fingers guided the pencil to the paper.

“Wow, you drew me kinda sexy.” He jokes making you draw a breath trying to hold back a laugh.

It really wasn’t sexy, it was about the equivalent of the Vitruvian man drawing and basic anatomical positioning for a robot. He watches you stand, hair pulled back, yet a couple of braids still fall in front of your face. He’s quiet, looking at the way you focused so intensely on exploring him.

When you gestured for him to move his leg, he did so without complaint, the feeling of your soft, warm hands under his exteriors heating him up from the inside. Of course, you’d never know that unless you kept poking and prodding.

“Ok so compared to me, and well, other humans I’m sure your overall body parts are called different things. So let’s start from top to bottom, yeah?” You suggest, eager to learn.

Mirage kneels in front of you, giving you an opportunity to see better. You’re much smaller than him, but he could tell when you stood next to Noah you were definitely average human height. Small to him but normal to everyone else.

“Alright I hope you’re ready cause there’s a LOT.” He explains, clearing his throat as you move closer to his face just to see better, he blinks a bit, getting used to the feeling.

You smile slyly, placing your hand under his chin to guide his face,

“Let’s start with your face. Stick out your…tongue?”

He opens his mouth and lets the ‘flesh’ inside lol out before speaking

“Gloth-ah” he announces and you tilt your head in confusion, only for him to repeat.

“Glossa”

You nod prodding at what you soon learned was his helm and face plates. You brush over his vocalizer for a moment and he hums, high-pitched enough to be a moan but not loud enough for either of you to acknowledge it. You know what you heard though.

“Whoa- lets not touch that alright ma?” He asks.

Soon enough your trailing downward and when you do he announces each part for you to make a note of. This is the quietest he’s been since earlier today. He lets you work, touch, poke, pull, and press whatever you'd wanted. It’s not like it hurt really, but he’s never had something smaller than him want to examine at such close range and actually touch places he’d never been able to. In fact, it was kind of nice-

He yelps when you slide your hand down his chest plate and even farther under his chassis. You pull away, startled at the noise with wide eyes.

“OK, that’s enough exploring don’t you think?” The statement is rushed and you side-eye him when what sounded like cooling fans whirred from inside.

Had you gotten him worked up? Maybe those were sensitive spots that had never really been touched like that before? You nod, not wanting to pry and ruin this newfound friendship by being a perv. You collect the papers and paperclip them together as he begins to wind down. It's about 6am now, and the sun peeks in through the garage windows. Your dad should be awake about now and-

You gasp pushing Mirage back into the space he was originally parked in last night(even though he didn’t budge). Your dad couldn’t know about this! AT ALL! Knowing him he'd stress out and then his pressure would get too high and he’d have a heart attack and-

“Whoa hey, what the rush, mamas? Got something to hide?” Mirage questions, figuring out why you were trying to get him back into a corner.

Was he being clueless on purpose?!

“YES, YOU! Now go back to being a car! My dad can't know about you, it might just be the death of him.” You huff out, gripping your scalp and pacing back and forth. He gets the idea, chuckling a bit before right back to that beat-up Porsche.

You sneak out the garage, tiptoeing up the stairs and into your room. And the moment your head hit the pillow, not even a tornado could wake you.

__________

You'd be lying if you said you didn't sleep the rest of the day away. By the time you woke up it was already 3-4pm and sounded like your father was cleaning up the kitchen. You sigh, running yourself a shower considering you didn't get one the night before. Mirage was still in the garage as far as you knew and you were hellbent on getting the rest of those notes.

You step in, the water feeling soothing against your skin, steam filling up the bathroom as you sigh in relief. Thoughts of your apartment fill your head.

‘Maybe Mirage could help with the unpacking? Or maybe not. He could be spotted and then that’s more problems for us. Mirage…..Miraaaaageee….’

Your turn to face the water, soaping up your towel as suds slide down the drain.

‘I wonder if a car wash is the equivalent of a shower for him….does he stay a car or like…fully transformed….does he have a-‘

Shutting the water off you opt to pull your hair back today since youd being doing more exploring. The steam from the bathroom escapes when youleave and pad downstairs, catching a glimpse at the note you father let you on the kitchen counter

~Working late, leftovers in the fridge~

You smile to yourself, grabbing a bottle of water to try and beat the obvious heat outside and head to the garage. Sure enough, the Porsche is right where you left it. Mirage is right where you'd left him, and when you tap on the window, the doors unlock almost instantly. You flatten the back of your blue jean skirt and adjust the seat. Awfully quiet today?

“Well good afternoon to you too sunshine? You realize it’s almost 5 right?.” You joke, hearing him rev his engine and the radio humming to life with the sound of his voice.

“You had me up all night! Looking this good doesn’t happen on its own! But how tired can I be when a pretty girl in a miniskirt‘s got her thighs on my seat?” He shoots back, making you gasp.

“Drive you flirt, I got more notes to take. Wanna go to that garage you took me to yesterday?” You ask, using the garage clicker to leave.

It was hot, the sun beating down on you as Mirage insisted you keep the windows down instead of running the ac. The streets were somewhat empty on this fine Sunday morning and Mirage’s only response was to drive in what you assumed was the direction to the garage. You fidget with the radio nobs and glance at the aux cord below the cd player. Maybe he did have CDs in here? You open the armrest to find nothing but-

It was easy to be nosy and explore when Mirage could drive himself, youd put that together on your own last night. There was so little you knew about him but his demeanor overall made you feel comfortable enough to ask. He was…charming. You pull the blank CD case out the armrest, and dust it off.

“MIrage’s Mix (from-)”

The name was scratched off, well more smudged than anything. You crack the case open and slide the CD into the player, the wait for the music to start making you a bit nervous. Had he realized you'd put it in? Was it personal? You begin to regret your decision but before you could press the eject button, it began. N.W.A. blasted from the speakers, startling you for a moment but you're soon amused. What did he know about N.W.A?

________

It doesn't take much longer for you to arrive at the garage, most of the lot being empty while the two of you enter to complete more of your research. You set your purse down, taking the papers from yesterday out and trying to organize them as he peers over your shoulder.

“Still think you drew me sexy-”

You scoff playfully and push him a bit, not moving him in the slightest but still, but he still finds it amusing.

“Stop it, I need you to sit so I can finish. You got all squeamish on my last night.” You tease, sliding your hand down the back of his ‘leg’ and he freezes.

He kneels back down, watching your every move. Your fingers hover over his vocalizer, the warning from yesterday replaying in your mind. Right, don't touch. You skip his chest plate and chassis, watching his expression slightly change to disappointment for what seemed like only a second. Again, he announces each part of himself, the air slightly awkward and VERY quiet. Maybe now was the time to try and strike up some more conversation.

“Soooo, where are you really from?” You ask, writing down each part you trace over when he speaks.

“Cybertron actually. Not in your solar system lil mama.” He flirts, turning his palms slightly open when you tap them.

Servos

"Never been?" He jokes again, admiring how small your hand looked compare to his.

'Careful Mirage your size kink is showing' he thinks to himself, avoiding your gaze.

You shake your head in response, looking at the details of his hands, moving back to his torso, purposefully skipping over the plated area between his thighs. Boundaries were definitely not something you wanted to cross, trying not to make him uncomfortable. I mean, he was willingly letting you poke around, and he clears his throat when you skip that spot.

“You, you can look if you want. And touch…ask questions. It's all good babygirl.” He offers, almost melting when you look up from under your lashes at him.

He could practically feel his pump about to explode. Why did Earth girls look so damn pretty? Mirage couldn't wrap his head around it honestly, the feeling he got when he passes a pretty girl when Noah would take him for drives. How they would gasp if he revved loud enough to embarrass Noah a bit but also score him a couple numbers.

Talk about a damn good wingman. You were different though.

You were a softer kind of pretty…He'd seen you come into the garage so many times before you really met. The day your dad parked him in that spot, he watched you skip in with your little low-rise jeans, the piercing you sported shining in the sunlight.

You hugged your dad, eyes lighitn up at the new car with a gasp.

“A Porsche! Dad oh my gosh really?” You ask, seeing him nod. You squealed more, inspecting his paint job, it was just as beat up then as it was before you officially met.

You chatted on and on about how ‘cute’ he’d look when you finally got to paint him a nice shade of hot pink and added your glitter seat covers. Not so exciting for him considering pink wasn't particularly his favorite but god did you look adorable when you were excited.

And there was that same look. Pure, unbridled excitement, yet your eyes shone almost darker this time. That look is almost salacious. It makes him swallow hard, legs opening a bit more and you brush your hand over his thighs, sparing one more glance as if to ask, ‘Are you sure?’ He only nods.

“Mirage, you gonna keep telling me what everything is, or am I to assume on my own?” You question, tracing the skirt plate.

Ita hard to speak, his fans feelijg as if they were working overtime to keep him from overheating. Primus you looked so pretty between him and now he was wondering how would you look riding his-

You stop touching, whistling to get his attention. Damn, he kinda liked that.

“ ‘Rag, we good?” You questions and he swallows hard at his new nickname.

Where did all that slick talk go now?

“Yeah, y-yeah we’re good ma.” He responds finally, optics low when your light chuckle reaches his ears.

You slide your hands up and down his midsection plating, teasing at this point. How was he supposed to focus on helping you learn when you touch under his plates like that? When your fingers slide over his thighs and over the skirt plate over and over, the pace only makes him want to thrust into your touch.

He felt perverted sort of, getting off on you exploring him in the name of science. That was such bullshit. He looks down at you, watching you pinch your lip between your teeth. Oh….you liked this. Your thighs pressed together as your tongue darts out to lick your lips.

You look up at him again, smile mischievous. And before he could ask any questions you slid you hand right back to his chassis and vocalizer. Oh that was a moan without a doubt. You hum in satisfaction, you’re practically playing with him, his body. It wasn’t helping that he hadn’t been touched like this in so long either p.

“Wanna tell me what happens if I keep touching you like this?” You purr, seeing Mirage avoid eye contact.

“C’mon ma, don’t mess with me like this.” He breathes out, hollow.

You stop your ministries after hearing tires and revving come to a halt. With footsteps approaching you stand quickly, Mirage doing the same. He crosses his arms over his chest and leaning against the wall as if he’d been caught while you shove the papers into your bag and swallow hard. You’d never moved so fast in your life.

Noah enters, feeling as if he’s just interrupted something but panicking once he realizes the predicament you were about ot be in. Why were you two here? Did Mirage even think this through? Probably not. He glances back at the other 3 bots behind him, trying to find a quick solution to hide you. But, before he could get any sort of plan out, three other robots similar to Mirage walked in, and one of them, was not at all pleased.

“Primeee, i had no idea youd be back so soon!”

_______________________________________

Lemme know waht yall think in the comments lmao and let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist as well!

Mini Taglist: @gniteruirui @veggiepizzababy panty-h03

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e-vay · 4 months

Text

Evay QA Bulk Post 3

Here’s the latest assembly of asks, assorted by topics so you can browse only what interests you. Also, some questions refer to the Choose-Your-Own-Adventure game I made, so to avoid spoilers for those of you who haven't played it, I put those asks all the way at the bottom. If you haven't played my game yet, please go play it!

PERSONAL ASKS

Anon asked: E-vay may i ask which tablet mark do you use for your drawings?

And dreamylumi-art asked: Was wondering what is your favorite brushes In Procreate? Your drawings look so fun and bouncy that I’m interested in your process!

A: I use an iPad and I do all my drawings in Procreate now. I like to experiment with brushes, but the primary brushes I use come standard with Procreate. I use the "Procreate Pencil" for my sketches and the "Technical Pen" for linework :)

Anon asked: How are u and ur family doing? ❤️

A: You are so very sweet for asking ❤️ We're all doing really good right now. My dad's surgery went great and he's cancer free and fully healed. My mom is on medication that's helped her a lot. Things are also looking up for my younger sister (she even got engaged this Christmas!). I'm stressed but for good reasons hahaha I'm very thankful and counting my blessings right now.

twistedchaos101 asked: Hey, what’s your MBTI?

A: I just retook the test and I got "INFJ-T Advocate" for myself :)

karura-senpai asked: Have u ever heard of these new bollywood movies like Animal and Dunki which are popular rn around the world because of instagram reels and tiktok videos...

A: I can't say that I have, I'm sorry! My Tiktok FYP is very niche so I don't see many things about movies on there.

edwinflores428 asked: E-vay, since you're also a Beatles enjoyer, did you hear the new Beatles song 'Now and Then'?

A: I had not known about this before you told me! I just listened to it and I really loved it. It has that beautiful, 60's-Beatles feel to me. Thank you so much for point it out to me!

Anon asked: What's your creative process when going into writing / planning for a comic? Apologies if this has been asked before.

A: I normally start by just jotting down any super rough concepts/quotes in my notes app. If the piece I'm doing involves stuff I don't know by heart (renaissance clothing or certain landscapes or anything like that) I'll work on gathering a TON of resource images. That way I'm not interrupting my drawing process by repeatedly stopping to look up references. I try to do it all up front and have it saved somewhere I can easily access.

Once I have more time, I'll write out the script in a Google Doc. I break up the script by each panel. I won't always have all the elements ready in my head, and sometimes I'll combine panels or separate them more, but I can always adjust:

Once I have a basic script, I can start to rough out the drawings/panels. These are just gestural drawings; I'm not looking to do anything too detailed here. I'm trying to figure out what best captures the emotions/energy of the scene and determine the natural flow of where your eyes will want to read the art and word bubbles:

Then I move on to the "pencils." This is my opportunity to nail down the expressions and flow. Sometimes I'll realize the page is imbalanced so I will redesign the panels so it has more even weight distribution or make it more dynamic/emotional. I always draw the characters in different colors so it can help me make sure I know what lines belong to which character:

Then it's on to all the fun stuff: Lines, coloring, shading and adding text!

I hope this answered your question! It's pretty straight forward :)

Anon asked: have you ever watched the anime fairy tail? if no i think sonamy fits the main couple NaLu (natsu x lucy) really well, like as if they’re similar 🫶🏻

A: I'm sorry, I've never seen it! I don't watch much anime anymore.

Anon asked: Can you make different characters(aka people sonic characters/oc) in your own style

A: When I'm open for commissions, yes! I am not open for commissions at the moment but I plan on doing that this year.

MISC SONIC ASKS

chrismantike asked: What’re your thoughts on longclaw (the owl from the sonic movie) does she exist in your AU as Sonic’s mom?

A: I liked the relationship we saw between Longclaw and baby Sonic in the movie, but I consider the movie as something entirely separate from the game/comic canon. I don't include any of the movie elements as part of my AU.

essycogany asked: What do you like most about Prime!Sonic?

A: Hmm, I think my favorite thing about him is how open he is with his emotions. In this show, he's very verbal about how much he cares about his friends and he doesn't hide it when he's sad or upset about something. In other media, Sonic has a habit of masking his emotions. I get that that's part of his personality, but it's nice to see this different side of him. (I also like how he showed more emotions in Frontiers, too!)

juli071023 asked: e-vay, what motivates you a lot about Sonic these years, why do you love it a lot, what motivates you about that character?

A: In the words of Young Neil, 'that's kind of a big question' haha. Simply put, the franchise just fuels me with excitement and joy and love! The character Sonic represents happiness and freedom and living in the moment and loving life to the fullest and I think that's such a great outlook to have. From a meta standpoint, I love how good the Sonic Team is to us fans. They engage with us regularly and put out SO MUCH CONTENT for us, more than any other franchise I'm aware of! I mean there are plenty of other great IPs out there, but you don't get the bombardment of games and shows and comics and social media engagement (etc) that you get with Sonic. I just think that's so cool! The fans love Sonic so much and the creators know that and reward us for our commitment. It's awesome.

Anon asked: So who do you think would win in a fight between Mario and Sonic

A: I gotta go with my boy Sonic! But of course it's better when they team up :D

Anon asked: How do you feel about the Dadow theory/au? As in Shadow being Silvers Dad. I honestly like it a lot.

A: If they're related, I think it makes more sense for Shadow to be Silver's grandpa or great grandparent. I think there are plot holes to say that he's directly his dad but I'm definitely open to them being related. Plus I think people can headcanon/au just about whatever they want, so I'm not against that theory :)

Anon asked: Hi e-vay, I hope you’re having a great day!! My question is: if there were to be a Sonic movie that’s only about Sonic and the guys but they were all being played by human actors, which actors do you think would suit them best?

A: Thank you so much, I hope you are too! Oh man this was so difficult but I put a ton of thought into it. And I'm sure there are still tons of actors I'm not thinking of who would be better, but here's what my gut tells me: Older Sonic: Max Greenfield [x] [x] or Jack Quaid [x] [x]. They're so witty and handsome and are built like runners! Younger Sonic: Jack Dylan Grazer Older Amy: Alison Brie. Even if it wasn't a live action movie, I so desperately wish that Alison Brie could be Amy's voice actor. I'm actually working on an animation where Amy is paired with some Alison Brie lines because I think it's such a perfect fit. She's sweet and funny and strong and sexy. She's on the petite side but she has that confidence that just commands a room. Ugh, Amy and Alison are my dream women 💖 Younger Amy: McKenna Grace Older Tails: Justice Smith or Cole Sprouse Younger Tails: Noah Jupe or Jacob Tremblay. Sorry, I don't know many young actors but I think they're both great! Older Knuckles: Terry Crews or Jason Momoa Younger Knuckles: Tyler James Williams [x] [x] Shadow: Jensen Ackles or Michael B Jordan 💖Swoon💖 Older Rouge: Ana de Armas or Charlize Theron Younger Rouge: Jenna Ortega or Sophie Turner

Anon asked: How old are the sonic boom characters in your opinion?

A: Firstly, I've said this before but I don't think Mobian age works the same as human age. I consider the Sonic Boom characters as all being what we'd consider as late teens or young adults. They all act like me and my friends did when were were college age haha

Anon asked: What do u think tails looked/acted during puberty🙂

A: That's what Tall!Tails is all about! I think he shot up in height and outgrew Sonic immediately. Maybe he got a bit more snarky and might mutter about how annoying it is that Sonic doesn't think things through before acting, but Tails is a sweetheart and I think he'd overall still be nice even while he's in that awkward stage of life.

MY OCs/AU ASKS

@redbirduniverse13 asked: Hi i love your art 💖 My question is, are your characters aware that other versions of them exist?

A: Thank you so much! No, they aren't aware of any other versions of them out there. Ruff would probably be most hopeful to meet other versions of himself since he's into comic books and would love the concept of the multiverse.

twistedchaos101 asked: What's your ocs MBTI?

A: I have too many OCs to do all of them lol But I'll do it for Aurora and CC. As Aurora, the results from the test were: "ENFP-T Campaigner" As CC, the results from the test were: "INTJ-A Architect"

Anon asked: Question, how is Aurora able to glow ?

A: Aurora has photokinesis, which gives her the ability to manipulate light. This results in a lot of things she's able to do that involve light, but glowing is the easiest thing for her to do (and is the hardest for her to suppress lol). She was born with these abilities but they didn't manifest until she was about preteen age.

charlieangel345 asked: You know everytime I saw Aurora glow up, her photokinesis power changes color. It made me wonder if she feel happy, angry, or sad, her light power might change colors. I can imagine she can create rainbow light.

A: Absolutely! Her powers are severely influenced by her emotions, so the color of her glow would definitely change based on her feelings. I have her inhibitors glow green naturally, but she could do any color under the light spectrum.

freshcreationgarden asked: I like to think Aurora's favorite fairytale growing up was beauty and the beast. Something about a handsome prince who hides beneath a rough exterior who believes they are not worthy of love who is bound to a "Rose"

A: Oh that is just too sweet! That metaphor is very perfect for what I write for her romantic future ;) I have said in a previous ask that Thumbelina is her favorite fairytale, but I like your headcanon too!

Anon asked: Hi, something randomly popped in my head about like the comics of aurora and I wondered, has aurora ever gotten sick?

A: Of course! She's just a regularly lady so she gets sick like average people do. I see her as the type that doesn't get sick often, but when she does it LAAAASTS. (That's how I am and it sucks!)

Anon asked: I know this might be a weird question, but can it be possible if Aurora can do chaos control with a chaos emerald like Sonic and Shadow.

A: I'll be honest, because we don't know much about Chaos Emeralds, I don't know who is capable of using them or not. But because Sonic is capable of using Chaos Control, I'm going to say yes Aurora should be able to as well. I don't think it's a technique either of them can master like Shadow does. Chaos Control seems second nature to Shadow.

Anon asked: if we go by sonic underground lore imagine Aurora finding out that she's technically a princess/duchess. Like sonic always call her princess because that's what dad's typically call their daughters, but then she finds out and her mind just explodes.

A: Honestly, I'm not a Sonic Underground fan. I know a lot of people love it for the nostalgia, but I didn't watch it growing up so I don't have any ties to it and I am not a fan of the story. I'm okay if people want to headcanon tying it in, but it's not for me.

*The next question is a Shadora Ask. Skip if you don't like Shadora*

Anon said: Hi, so glad you’re back! Just reread Boom!Baby where Rouge mentions how hedgehogs have a lot of babies and I think it’s kinda funny in the future Shadow and Aurora have eight

A: Thank you so much, I'm so happy to be back! Yeah, Rouge really knew what she was talking about 😆 I bet she told Shadow the same thing when they were expecting!

Anon asked: Does aroura ever run into her ex again?

A: Aurora spends most of her life in a small bubble, rarely leaving her home town, so she would have run into him now and then. Again though, they were kids when they were "boyfriend/girlfriend" and you can hardly even call them that (Imagine like in the Barbie movie, how Ken and Barbie don't know what it means to be Girlfriend-Boyfriend) so it's not awkward running into each other. It's more of a "Hey there's that person I used to know"

prophecyhyper asked: When Aurora was born and Amy said "She's more perfect than I imagined" What did she imagine of Aurora looking like?

A: She didn't have an exact image in mind when she said that. It was more like an amorphous concept. You know somehow the baby will look like you and your partner, but there are so many different outcomes. So she would have daydreamed about all the possibilities: the baby looking more like Sonic, the baby looking more like her, maybe the baby having elements of their grandparents.

Anon asked: Will Sage exist in your AU?

A: Yes! I adore Sage!

*The next question is a Shadora Ask. Skip if you don't like Shadora*

Anon asked: Hey Evay, I’ve been thinking about this lately. It’s kind of silly question. If there is a naughty and nice list, which of Shadora Kids is naughty or nice.

A: This was a great question and I'm so sorry I missed it before the holidays! This is all in fun, none of them got punished: Piper: Nice but ONLY after Santa had to give her a lecture on how she needs to not be a smartass and boss around her siblings Zane: Naughty (He did too many stunts indoors!) Nova: Nice Aster: Naughty (He and Blitz plotted to kidnap Santa) Blitz: Naughty (She finds it a point of pride) Diamond: Nice Cinder: Nice (He's scared of Santa) Boon: NICE! (He doesn't know the meaning of the word naughty!)

Anon asked: haven’t seen CC in a while, could we have more CC please

A: There will be more CC, I promise! :)

kbluetoons asked: Say, after reading your spindash lesson comic (which was really cute by the way), what if Aurora showed her kids how to spindash like how Sonic showed her?

A: Aw I'm so happy you liked it! Yes, learning to spin dash is vital to a hedgehog's upbringing ;) She'd teach them very young but then immediately regret it because they'd be spindashing all over the house. Now she knows why Sonic was so hesitant to teach her when she was little!

mod-bubamon asked: I know spooky season is over but how do cc and tails handle horror movies? Does cc Criticize every litter thing the protagonist do? Does tails even get scared after all he's been through? IF CC GETS SCARED DOES SHE HUGS TAILS TAILS FOR COMFORT??? THIS IS IMPORTANT

A: Hahaha I loved this question! First of all, Spooky Season is never over for me! ↜(ˈ╰ •ω•)╯ψ So bring on all your Halloweeny ideas! CC would not be fun to watch horror movies with. She would be overly analytical, not only of the actions that the victims are doing but how unrealistic the injuries/gore/battles are haha. I see Tails as someone who originally was afraid of scary movies, but watching them with CC has actually helped him to be less afraid of them. Now he spots the same flaws she does and they like to roast them together! Just to clarify -- CC does get scared of things, just not horror movies.

Anon asked: Hey, I rediscovered your art recently and almost forgot how much I loved it! I love CC and was wondering if you had any small head cannon kinda things you have for her and Tails you would share that you haven't already?

A: Well welcome back and thank you so very much! This question was not related to the previous question, but the previous question sparked an idea for me so I'm going to expand on it here. When Tails and CC first started watching horror movies together, CC noticed that Tails was super on edge. To help relax him, she'd take his tails into her lap and pet them to calm him down. He's not as scared of movies anymore, but he always has her stroke his tails while they watch shows together now :) Also, CC is still getting used to Mobian mannerisms and nuances. They've made a nightly routine where during dinner, she debriefs Tails on all the new conversations and interactions she's had with people and Tails scores her on how well she's adjusting. She likes the challenge and strives for a better "score" every day!

SHIPPING ASKS

essycogany asked: How are you feeling about the new Sonamy material from this and last year? Things are really starting to become more obvious as the years go on.

A: It does my shriveled little heart so much good! I don't know that they'll ever cross that line in canon, but I love how much their relationship has evolved compared to years ago. It means the world to me that Sonic considers Amy as one of his best friends and as someone he can depend on (and is even willing to think about dating ((in reference to that cut dialog line from Frontiers)). And I love that Amy has proven that her feelings for Sonic are more than just a fan-crush; she genuinely loves him for who he is and will always be there for him. UGH IT MAKES ME FEEL SO ALIVE!

Anon asked: I just wanted to say that I love love love your sonamy works! :D Absolutely adorable (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ Also, only if you want to answer ofc, what are your thoughts on the ship Metamy (Metal Sonic and Amy)? Thank you for the lovely food you bring and have a wonderful day!

A: Oh gosh, thank you so much! You just made my day wonderful by this sweet message! I do ship Metamy! After all, I believe in my heart of hearts that Sonic has feelings for Amy and Metal Sonic is supposed to be the same as him... ^_~ I think despite his transgressions, Amy has a special place in her heart for Metal. He's one of the reasons she even met Sonic in the first place! But what I'd prefer most is for Metal Sonic to have a Metal Amy. That way everybody wins 💕

Anon asked: Hi e-vay I love ur dr who art!! Question, do tenrose remind you of sonamy? Or do any characters or couples from the whoverse remind you of any sonic character or couples?

A: Ahhh thank you so much! I always thought my Doctor Who art got lost in the void so I'm so glad you found it! TenRose is my favorite DoctorWho ship, so I think by law I have to relate them to sonamy haha. But honestly I think RoryXAmyPond suits sonamy more if you reverse the roles. Rory's absolute dedication to AmyPond--regardless of death--was the definition of love, and that's how I feel Amy Rose is for Sonic. I can't think of any other ships that are good parallels. River Song reminds me of Rouge just that she's savvy and flirty. Forgive me, I stopped watching after Eleven regenerated so I'm not up to date on anything. If you don't like the Shadora ship then don't click this link, but I have drawn Aurora and Shadow as Ten and Rose before :)

Anon asked: Werehog Sonic and Werehog Amy kiss meme or a mini comic about both kissing in their werehog forms?

A: I kind of already drew that :) It's the 10th drawing in this post.

*The next question is a Shadora Ask. Skip if you don't like Shadora*

penguin-evere asked: hello! this is my first time doing something like this. i've loved your art for a while now (probably since 2017-2018), and i love the new style you have! anyways, i wanted to ask if you've seen the frontiers twitter takeover, and the newfound information about shadow's secret like of some good ol' t. swizzle music, and was curious if aurora would be a fan too, and if they would go to a concert together! i think it'd be really cute.

A: Thank you so much! And I'm so relieved you still like my stuff even after all this time :) Aurora loves pop music and so yeah I could see her being a Taylor fan for sure. Although I don't take Swifty!Shadow as canon (lol) it is still fun to think they could bond over that music together!

*The next question is a Shadora Ask. Skip if you don't like Shadora*

Anon asked: what was the shadora confession like? Cause I like to imagine that it was shadow who confessed and that he did it in the most dramatic way possible, cause he's our drama king.

A: I don't want to reveal too much until I've properly drawn it, but yes for my stories Shadow would confess his love first. He's technically loved her longer since he met her when she traveled back in time to save him so once they've "re-met" I don't think he'd be willing to hide his feelings too long. It's Shadow so of course it has to be so romantic and dreamy~!

ASKS RE: MY GAME

Anon asked: How did you make the Trick Or Sweet Halloween Game, can you show me what you used or did to make it? If you can do a step by step that would be helpful or just tell me how you did it that would be helpful:))

A: Oh man... Honestly, it was way too complicated of a project to explain in just one answer. And I won't be able to explain any of the technical/coding side. I watched so many tutorials but I just couldn't grasp it, so my husband had to code it for me and I have no idea how he managed it. From a non-technical standpoint, I had to first write out the script for it. That means writing out all the dialog and also writing out every option possible. Even though my game was fairly linear, this was still complicated to write. What helped me was using icons and colors to help me know which actions would lead to which outcomes:

Then came the longest part, the drawing! I had to draw a variety of sprites and backgrounds and objects. Also, some of the actions you take make certain items go away, so I had to remember to hide them depending on the path you took. Once I had all the elements, I assembled them in a Slides presentation to test it out. If you're not doing anything too complicated, you could probably get away with making your game entirely in Google Slides. Mine was too complicated and I wouldn't be able to publish it to my website but it was good for testing. When it was ready for build, I had to make a comprehensive guide for Ryan showing what clicks lead to where, what sound effects should be played when, when the music tracks should switch, etc:

He programmed it in Adobe Animate. I don't know how he did it, other than he's just a brilliant babe and I thank god for him lol

Anon asked: Just at a curiosity though, whatever happened to everyone (especially Sonic & Amy) AFTER your truth serum wore off from your ‘Trick or Sweet Adventure’? Also how about Shadow & Rouge? Did they get affected as well?

A: They lived happily ever after, of course! If the two just told each other how they felt then they'd be happy (in my opinion) so they just needed a little magical kick in the butt haha. I didn't have any plans for Shadow or Rouge, but if I could cast a spell to make them happy then I would give Rouge a throne of diamonds and Shadow the chance to ease the pain in his heart (Ｔ▽Ｔ)

---

Thank you all for the questions!

Evay QA Bulk Post 1

Evay QA Bulk Post 2

#Ask me #evayQA #MasterQA #MasterPost #long post #bulk QA #MasterAsk #headcanons #my au #sonic trash #bulk #bulkQA

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