#again last night but it was during sex and it literally sent me into a breakdown and rather than talk 2 him abt it like a normal human being

[loafgeto]

FANTASIZE — 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭. gojo satoru

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ having sexual fantasies about your landlord seems illegal, but what can you do when it’s gojo satoru?

⌗contents ⤥ fem!reader, she/her pronouns, explicit language used, landlord!gojo, no curses au, gojo and reader are in their 20’s (range not specified), masturbation (gojo catches you), pussy hungry gojo, oral, unprotected p in v sex, orgasms, creampie, deep penetration, pet names, not proofread

⌗wordcount ⤥ 4.7k

⌗notes ⤥ i literally thought abt this while on the toilet

finally, after a long and exhausting shift, you finally arrived back home. you were standing outside of the gates that lead into the apartment complexes, showing the security guard your identification before being allowed inside. you were tired and hungry, thinking about what to cook once you got into your home.

just as you’re reaching your apartment complex, you pass through the play area built for the children, and you notice a tall, white-haired man standing by a bench while a young child is running around with another on the playground. your heart stops when you realize it’s your landlord, gojo satoru.

while he was on the phone, you notice another man sitting on the bench, his dark hair nearly blending in with the night. you gulped, hoping to walk by without getting caught by either of them. why? because— you haven’t paid your last months rent.

you promised satoru you’d pay, but the next rent payment was due in a week and you hadn’t even sent him money. satoru didn’t bother with it during the first two weeks, however— he became impatient and was slowly demanding you pay the rent. even the co-landlord, suguru, was reminding you but rather, in a more gentle manner.

as you quietly passed by, one of the children spotted your presence. “oh! miss [name]!” the young megumi shouts out, putting the unwanted attention onto you.

oh… megumi, why?! you cursed mentally at yourself and made a quick hesitating expression before forcing a sweet smile and turning around. by that time, megumi and the other child, yuji, had jumped off the playground to greet you. they both approached you with their cute giggles, each hugging one of your legs. “megumi, yuji! what are you guys doing out here?”

“gojo and geto-san let us play outside for a little bit!” megumi answers when looking up at you. nodding, you glance at the two other men, who were deliberately surveying you— especially satoru. you clear your throat and look down at the two kids again.

“can we come to your house on saturday, miss [name]? i wanna bake cookies and watch pokemon again!” yuji questions, jumping up and down slightly.

“o-of course.. just make sure you guys get permission from your dad’s!” you reply, maintaining your smile as they pushed themselves off your legs. “i have to get home super quick now, ‘kay? just let me know by tomorrow.”

“okay, miss [name]!” they both cheered happily at the same time before scurrying back to the two men.

therefore, you took that as an opportunity to leave quickly and back to your apartment. when you arrived, you quickly unlocked the door and entered, nearly sinking to the ground. a smile slowly crept on your face and you slipped off your shoes before walking further into your home.

you glanced at the ground, noticing your broken vase was still scattered to pieces. you sigh, remembering your purse accidentally knocked it over and since you were rushing to work, you decided to clean it up once you got home. grabbing a broom from the kitchen, you swept it to the side by the wall, figuring you would gather it into the trash later.

after changing into something more comfortable, you went to brush your teeth and get ready for the night. a smile was still on your face, and well, the reason was simply because of satoru.

three months ago, you were apartment hunting after saving so much money— one of your work friends suggested you to tour an apartment from a landlord named gojo satoru.

the apartments he owned were absolutely marvelous and in your price range. but what even tempted you to sign rental agreement was satoru himself. he was someone everyone wanted: he had handsome features, a perfect build, an alluring voice, and most all, earned loads of money. to others, it was obvious that you had a huge interest in him, but it’s gotten to the point where you began developing feelings— way too much feelings. so much that you began fantasizing about him everyday.

it started off as fantasizing going on romantic dates with him— eventually to getting married, having kids, being the mom to little megumi. eventually leading to fantasizing you underneath him, holding him as he fucks into you. most would think it was absurd— to be obsessing over your own landlord who dislikes you at the moment.

but you liked the attention you were receiving from satoru. you two interacted many times before, but that’s mostly because of megumi. the child often ran into you, eventually getting close enough to where satoru allowed him to go to your house to bake cookies or for you to babysit. however, when you missed your first rent, satoru had came to your place— which, caught you by surprise, you thought he’d bring megumi but he was all by himself.

therefore, you intentionally pretended to forget to pay your rent, even though you did actually have the money to pay. of course, you were going to pay eventually, just so you don’t lose your apartment, but you were keeping up the act due to satoru’s appearances nearly everyday— demanding you to pay your rent. he’s gotten slightly aggressive over the past two weeks, but it never necessarily bothered you.

you pretend to avoid him, while still try to be around him. it was weird, maybe, but when you have a crush on someone, you usually end up doing things you don’t normally find yourself doing.

after getting into bed, you relaxed and got comfortable— but you feel as if you needed something else to cool your mind: thinking about satoru.

you felt lazy to grab one of your vibrators, so you decided to use your hands, imagining as if it was satoru’s instead.

“gojo, gojo, can i pleaseeee go to miss [name]’s house on saturday? pleaseeee,” megumi was whining to satoru repeatedly as they were heading back to their home. after saying their good nights to yuji and suguru, megumi just couldn’t shut up about you.

satoru was helping megumi get ready for bed, but the kid just couldn’t sleep until he said yes. and if satoru didn’t say much less of a no, or a simple no, megumi would throw a tantrum. satoru honestly didn’t know how to calm the child down whenever that occurs, so he makes sure to answer properly.

“maybe if she pays her rent, you can go,” satoru smiles at the kid, realizing his words slipped out without care.

“she did pay it! you just don’t check!” megumi pouts.

“oh megs, please just go to sleep. i’ll think about it tonight,” satoru replies with a sigh as he stands from kneeling beside of the bed and walks towards the door.

“nooo!! i wanna go, please!!” megumi begs, nearly crying at this point.

“gosh.. why are you so stubborn at this age,” satoru shakes his head as he was about to walk out. “fine, fine! you can go! just go to sleep, it’s late and if you don’t wake up in time tomorrow, you will not go, understand?”

suddenly, little megumi’s demeanor changed completely. he was now bubbly, smiling like crazy before getting comfortable underneath his blanket. “thank you, gojo! can you please go tell her that you said yes! i will tell yuji tomorrow, i’m so excited!” and without anything else, megumi was able to fall into a slumber.

satoru sighs yet again, shutting off the lights of megumi’s room before closing the door. honestly, he didn’t know what to do anymore, but he was glad megumi found company in someone else other than him— not that he does. satoru decides to flip through files, rental agreement files.

and of course, he stumbles upon yours. along with the papers that wrote payment overdue. satoru was pissed, to say the least.

satoru was lenient the first time, almost to the point of considering to not have you pay the rent— because, well, he also has an interest in you. his feelings began developing the day you both encountered, and he remembers trying so hard to get you to like the apartment. you both exchanged contacts that day once you signed the rental agreement, but it was nothing more than that. it initially surprised him when megumi asked to go to your place the first time, he hadn’t known then that you two were slowly becoming close as you’re adjusting to the new environment. but he shortly felt as if this was an opportunity for him to get closer with you.

now, they’re are definitely times satoru wanted to straight up say he had a fat crush on you, keeping it behind his mouth felt as if he was in high school again— however, he just couldn’t get the courage. he didn’t understand why, and most of the time, megumi would be cutting him off and grabbing your attention.

a few weeks ago, satoru was coming home with megumi, after picking him up from school. carrying the kid on his shoulders, megumi was saying this and that about wanting to visit your place. satoru was going to say yes, until: he detected you with someone else.

and that someone else ended up being suguru.

you both were chatting casually, it seemed you had also returned from work and stopped by to chat with suguru while little yuji was running around the playground with another child. watching at how you two interacted triggered satoru— the way you two smiled and laughed together, the way you tapped his arm when he said something that made you laugh. suguru was much bigger than he was, and definitely had more of the ladies’ attention.

however, in hindsight, satoru mistook your gestures and friendliness towards suguru as having feelings for him instead.

therefore, satoru suddenly became harsher towards you— but only because he was jealous of suguru and believing you liked him instead. even though his best friend didn’t show any display of affection towards you, satoru remembered the first impression you gave to suguru: “she’s pretty,” he complimented, but nothing else.

honestly, satoru felt quite immature to act like this. you weren’t even his girlfriend and even if you did like suguru, there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

satoru walked to his room, feeling utterly exhausted but still reached for his coat. as megumi wanted, he was going to deliver the message about him being allowed to go to your house on saturday to you, as well as remind you again about the rent.

the walk took no less than five minutes, though satoru often paused his steps or made circles because he felt anxious seeing you. of course, earlier he did see you when the kids were greeting you, but you barely even looked at him: at least, that’s what he perceived.

and when satoru approached the front of your door, he began anticipating as he hesitantly raises his hand to knock on the door. he leans back slightly, biting his lower lips as he thinks about what to say once you open the door. ‘hey, just wanted to say that megumi can—’ no, that wasn’t a good idea, he thought. ‘it’s time to pay your rent—’ well, not that either.

satoru shook his head, trying to surpass the feelings of nervousness before knocking on the door. and well, he must’ve knocked way too hard since the door cracked open. he stood there puzzled, and for a moment, he thought you were already on the other side. but realizing it was silent, he pushed the door open.

the first thing satoru noticed was the broken vase on the floor, causing his eyes to widen. did someone break in? is someone threatening her, is that why she can’t pay rent? dozens of thoughts were processing through his head as he enters further into your apartment, swallowing hard as more anxiety crawled up his back.

“[name]?” satoru calls out, and when you didn’t answer, he panicked even more. were you hurt? did something else happen here that he couldn’t grasp? satoru knew you lived alone, often inviting several friends or family members over but there was never anyone who looked threatening or intimidating to cause harm.

your apartment was clean, even though there were boxes and other things stuffed in corners and shelves, and there were no signs of any other damage aside from the broken vase. pulling out his phone, he readied to dial anyone. satoru was approaching your room at that point, bottled in his own thoughts as he looked around— he stands ahead of your bedroom door, realizing it was slightly cracked open, enough to where you can see the bed.

however, what satoru’s eyes laid upon was something unexpected.

the sight of you lying back on your bed, thighs spread open with your panties and underwear pushed down to your ankles, soft moans circulating the room caused blood to rush quick to satoru’s dick. while you were in your own world, satoru had been worried that something terrible might’ve happened to you. but you were just.. masturbating?

“f-fuck.. satoru..”

satoru’s eyes widened more when he hears you call out his name, causing his heart to thump and cheeks to burn red. were you imagining him right now? were you thinking about him touching you like that? the tightness of satoru’s pants began to poke out, throbbing nearly in pain as he watches you pleasure yourself because of him.

“need you to fuck me.. please..” your pleas and whines reached satoru’s ears like a melody, and he swore he could cum just by the sound of your pretty voice.

was this how you sounded like? was this how you moaned his name? it was driving satoru mad, making him want to push that door open and fuck you just like how you wanted. but, he felt like a creep— just standing there and watching.

satoru continued to watch you pleasure yourself before getting lost in his own thoughts, not remembering his phone in his other hand and dropping it to the ground. the loud thud causes the two of you to snap back into reality— sending you into an alert state and satoru into a panicked one. he cursed himself under his breath as he tries picking up his phone to quickly scatter out, but by now, you were already by the door.

“who’s there—?!” you nearly shouted, ready to attack and defend yourself against the person. but you were caught by surprise when you made eye contact with satoru.

the room became silent, as you both awkwardly stood and stared at each other for who knows how long. the embarrassment immediately got back to you, causing your face to burn and you could barely even formulate a proper response as satoru rubs the back of his neck.

“g-gojo…” you anxiously let out, averting your gaze in another direction. you could barely look him in the eyes.

“i didn’t mean to watch- or, i mean disturb you. i came at a wrong time, i’m sorry,” satoru slips out the response, also looking elsewhere while glancing back at you several times.

“you were watching..?” your face shoots up and satoru’s face nearly went pale.

“i- i just wanted to let you know that megumi is allowed to come over saturday, he wanted me to deliver the message!” satoru switches the topic as you avoid eye contact with him again.

“oh… i see,” you reply. the atmosphere was severely awkward, and you both didn’t know what to exactly or utter. “guess—”

“need help?” he blurts, eyes lowering back to you.

“help?” your eyes remain wide in shock and you can feel your heart pulsate quicker, nearly making your legs weak. you try to avoid gazes with him, but satoru reaches for your wrist just to get your attention.

satoru can feel his dick throb knowing that your needy pussy was underneath those tight shorts of yours, being forced to act normal when rubbing your thighs together out of embarrassment. he only imagines how wet you are— no, to feel how wet you are, to really know what kind of filthy girl you are. it was turning him on, and it was obvious from the bulge in his pants.

“i mean, from the way you were moaning my name, i figured you did,” satoru replies in a hushed tone, sending chills down your spine.

the moment was cut short when satoru leans in to kiss you, shocking you even more, but you instantly melted into his lips. you kissing him back with immense passion drove satoru insane, now that he figured out he had been the one all this time. he pushes his tongue pass your lips and into your mouth, hungrily searching for your tongue. you both share several soft groans before satoru grinds himself against you, allowing you to feel his erected dick.

“feel that?” satoru whispers when he leaned his head back to catch a quick breath, only receiving a small nod from you. “‘m so fucking hard, just because of you. gonna do something about that?”

“mhm.. of course..” you shyly replied, looking up at him with those nubile eyes.

you eventually find yourself on top of satoru, completely undressed aside from your soaked panties. you were facing his hard cock that was still being suffocated underneath his pants, meanwhile, satoru was beginning to tease your clothed clit with his middle finger. it made you whine, since you haven’t felt another’s touch in so long.

satoru pushes the material of your underwear to the side, getting a good view at your soaking cunt just dying to have someone’s cock drilled inside. “so pretty ‘nd perfect,” he whispers, his breath softly blowing against your clit.

“o-oh.. satoru,” you moan, feeling his tongue lap over your slit.

satoru circles his tongue around your clit, sucking it several times before working around your wet folds and pushing slightly pass them into your sopping cunt. you can feel ecstasy pump throughout your entire body, all just from his tongue.

“fuck.. your tongue- feels s’good..” you utter through your soft moans. “always fantasized you eating my pussy out like this.. a-ah..”

“yeah?” satoru hums, bringing a finger to rub circles on your clit while his tongue messily explored your cunt, licking and slurping all of your arousal that gradually coated down to his chin. your words dumped roughly on him, making his dick throb. “fucking hell. suck me off too, angel. need to feel your mouth around me.”

you push satoru’s pants down, along with his boxers that immediately causes his cock to spring out. you hold a breath as you take his length into your hand, watching as his pre-cum leaked out. you start with a lick around his tip, gathering the pre-cum on your tongue and earning a soft grunt against your pussy from him.

pushing your head down, you begin winding your tongue around his girth, sucking several times while pumping the rest with your hand. satoru’s cock twitches several times, nearly becoming sensitive under your touch and warm mouth. he proceeds to fuck your pussy with his tongue, thumbing your clit that causes your moans to vibrate around him.

“mm- ‘toru-”

“hush, baby. ‘ts okay, don’t want ya to choke. unless you like that,” satoru whispers, sinking his tongue into your pussy again, trying to slurp up all of your wetness. his nose easily brushes against your aching hole, sending you waves of pleasure.

you push satoru’s cock further into your mouth, bobbing your head up and down, trying to maintain a pace. you could barely focus due to satoru’s tongue lapping your vulva and folds, inching into your cunt as if he’s marking as his territory. the tip of his cock softly slams against your throat, slowly pooling your eyes with tears.

“don’t forget to breathe, baby. oh fuck- keep sucking my cock like that- mhm- good girl,” satoru praises, grunting as he feels your mouth taking almost all of him. you could barely even handle it, yet you’re trying so hard— it was amusing, in a cute way.

your muffled moans sync with the sloppy sounds of your cunt being lavished with satoru’s tongue, the pad of his fingers rubbing your clit faster and causing you to reach an orgasm. grinding your hips slowly on satoru’s face was enough to tell him that, and he uses his other hand to slap the fat of your ass, eventually gripping it.

“gonna cum, baby. s-shit, in your mouth?” satoru glances at you, noticing you were bobbing your head as a response.

when satoru’s warm cum shoots into the back of your throat, it causes you to orgasm at the same time. your legs twitch from the sensations, but capturing his load was the main thing occupying your mind. you’d never thought you’d be situated with satoru like this— it’s just as if your fantasies are becoming a reality.

swallowing his cum, you push your head away and inhale several breaths while coughing lightly. shortly enough, you feel satoru pulling you back against him and turning your head. after sharing a long and sloppy kiss, he pins you on the mattress, spreading your thighs apart so that he’s in between them.

from what you could see, he was still hard. very hard. his aching tip was pressed against your entrance, teasing your clit and making you whimper. glancing up at him, you could see his flushed face— full of energy, arousal, and passion.

“d-do we need lube?” you innocently inquired, which choked a soft chuckle from satoru.

“not at all, baby. you’re so wet. feel that? feel how wet you are?” satoru hums when he guides his tip along your wet entrance, hoping it’d be an enough of a satisfying answer. you only nod, giving satoru a look and he reassures you with another kiss. “i’m gonna put it in now. tell me if it hurts, ‘kay?”

“‘kay..” you nod, biting your lower lips.

satoru groans as he inserts his cock past your folds, pushing your walls apart that clenches around him each time he inched deeper. you gasped as both hands went around his biceps and your fingers press into the skin, notably marking the area. your walls fluttered around him, accepting his thick and hard cock so earnestly.

“feel okay, love?” satoru questions, glancing down at you.

“mhm.. i’m okay, ‘toru..” you reply, indicating for him to move.

satoru slowly begins to move his hips, groaning at the feeling of your pussy when his cock slips in and out. for you, his cock was already kissing your most sensitive places that had moans fall from your mouth constantly. satoru gropes one your breast, pinching the nipple with two fingers as he nudges your deepest parts.

“f-fuck! satoru- your cock feels soso good-” you cry out when his pace fastens, nearly having your eyes roll back.

so, this is how her pussy feels like? satoru was lost in his own mind, lost in the feeling of your pussy. he was already addicted, wanting to be inside you forever and be able to dump his cum into you. to him, you’re perfect: everything about you is. he loved the feeling of your soft and delicate skin rubbing against his own, aside from your pussy kissing around his cock.

“you fantasize about this too, angel? fantasize about my cock fucking into your pussy like this?” satoru huffs as his thrusts initially became quicker— rougher, nearly filling you entirely up.

“yes! yes, ‘toru. always fantasizing about it.. about you- ngh..”

you could feel a knot slowly forming in your core as his cock continues to stimulate pleasure to your pussy. you could care less about the neighbor’s ears, knowing that another tenant’s room was on the other side of your headboard. as of right now, your landlord was fucking you, just like how you’ve always imagined about. the fact turned you on even more.

satoru groans, now pounding his cock into you, deep to the point it’s kissing your womb. the sound of skin slapping circulating the air along with your moans, making the room scream perfect sex. satoru presses a finger against your lips, signaling you to lower your voice when loud knocks on the wall is heard, telling you both to shut up. but how could you?

“i can’t- ‘toru. feels so good- ‘ts too much-” you cry out, bringing his finger into your mouth and swirling your tongue over.

“naughty girl. you really want to get a noise complaint, don’t you?” satoru chuckles, before throwing both of your legs over his shoulders. well, since he’s the landlord he could just dismiss the complaint whenever it came through.

“want them to know- how good you fuck me.”

and how could satoru deny such request? wrapping his hands around your thighs and pushing them against his chest, he pummels his cock deeper into you, getting screams out of your mouth. your breasts bounced each thrust, matching the gentle slams of the headboard ramming into the wall.

the angle of the position allowed satoru’s cock to perfectly grind against your g-spot, which is already sending you towards your next orgasm. his balls slaps against your vulva as he penetrates his cock deeper and deeper, feeling your walls clench around him each time.

you don’t know how long it’s been until you’re on your knees and hands, ass in the air as satoru fucks you from behind after another orgasm. gripping onto the sheets, you repeatedly cry out his name, just to feel his dick twitch inside of you.

“you’re such a perfect girl, you know that?” satoru proceeds to blurt out compliments, caressing your skin and pressing soft kisses on your shoulder blades to your neck. right now, he was just grateful that it’s him— that he is the one able to do this with you.

“sa-satoru— ngh- i’m cumming-”

satoru was close to cumming too. he wanted to dump his next cum load into you, stuff you up to the brim and feel you milk him dry. “cum on my cock, baby. c’mon,” he encourages, pushing your hips back with both of his hands as you reach your climax.

“cum in me, ‘toru! pleasee!” you cry out next, turning your head to make eye contact with him.

satoru’s eyes wide at the sight of your lewd expression, telling him to fill you up. and so he does. he does a final deep thrust, dumping his heavy and warm load all saved just for you. satoru feels your walls pulsate around him just before he slips his cock out.

from there, you both remain in silence once more, catching breaths before satoru collapses on top of you.

“three months..” satoru whispers against your ear, utterly confusing you.

“what?”

“i’ll give you three months free of rent, maybe more if you go on a date with me.”

“that’s not fair to the other tenants though.”

“they don’t have to know.”

you giggle, turning around so that you’re completely facing him. cupping his cheeks into your hand, you lean in to give him a kiss— a more subtle kiss. “alright then. a date is settled.”

as satoru entered his apartment, he was surprised to stumble upon— a rather, agitated suguru. arms crossed over his chest, it seemed as if satoru had done something to piss him off.

“sugu—”

“do you know how many times i’ve called you? 17 times! i even messaged you and you answered none of them!” suguru rambled and satoru easily noticed fumes erupting from his ears. “you should be grateful that megumi can take care of himself.. gosh, he’s only what? seven? i can’t believe you left him home alone. what if something bad happened?”

“look— suguru—”

“ugh, whatever. i made sure megumi got to school safely with yuji. make sure you pick them up later and drop them off at [name]’s house, we have a meeting this evening,” suguru cuts satoru off again as he grabs his coat, not leaving any room for satoru to explain.

“suguru—”

“why do you look like you just..” suguru pauses once he got a good observation of satoru’s appearance. “did you drink last night?”

“wh— what? ABSOLUTELY not!” satoru defends himself.

“uh huh.. hurry up and get ready,” suguru dismisses it once more before leaving the apartment.

well, guess satoru didn’t really need an explanation after all.

LOAFGETO. thank you for reading! please do not copy my work or publish in another media without my permission.

a/n: me after using the word cock

[cheolaholic]

ring of love; csc (06)

summary; agreeing to join vernon spectate an underground boxing match wasn't how you'd expect to spend your friday night. you also didn't expect to see seungcheol, someone you've lost contact with for years, become a part of the ring.

modern! au • boxer! au • hhu focused • multiple kinds of tropes • fluff, angst, smut

chapter warnings: brief mentions of crimes (drugs, robbery, abduction), brief mentions of sex and hormones

a/n;; i have risen from the dead, everyone. I know it's been a while since I last updated (4 months 💀) But, please enjoy this chapter and hope that I do not disappear for another few more months until the next update lmao. Also posting this update while I'm on my lunchbreak lmao

You didn’t think that figuring out a place to meetup with Seungcheol would be difficult, but alas, it was. The places Seungcheol had initially suggested were either too far or the price range of their menus could amount to at least a month’s worth of your rent. Maybe it was the years of not seeing him that you had forgotten his parents had their own businesses, which obviously, means money is never an issue for Seungcheol.

After telling him you had to commute to some of the places or either needing to Uber or have Vernon pick you up, Seungcheol found a decently priced cafe near your place with a cosy looking interior design. Having finally settled down on a place to meetup, you now began to stress about an outfit.

You tore through your entire wardrobe before finally panic-calling Aki who agreed to help, on the condition that you tell her everything that will go down at the meetup. You agreed and after hours of outfit try-ons, you settled on a brown oversized sweater, a black pleated skirt, paired together with doc martens loafers.

“Are you sure this looks okay…?” your voice full of uncertainty as you stared at your reflection. Aki, who was on video call on your phone that’s propped up on your dresser, rolls her eyes at your question. “Babes, you’re literally so pretty right now that you could be someone’s gay or bi-awakening. Don’t worry, okay? I'm sure he’s equally nervous of finally seeing you again after what? Almost half a decade?”

“That's a dramatic way to say almost 5 years, but okay.”

“Just be your normal self, ___. Even if he’s changed appearance or physique wise, I'm sure he’s still the same ol’ Seungcheol from more than a decade ago. Well, at least for you, it’s more than a decade.”

“That is true… thanks for helping me out, Aki.”

“Anything for my bestie. Now, go and see your prince charming!”

“Can you and my parents stop calling him my prince charming?” you whined, only for Aki to shoo you through your phone.

“Tell me the deets afterwards! I want all the nitty-gritty - don’t you dare leave anything out!”

Seungcheol got to the cafe an hour earlier than the agreed meeting time. He tried to get some sleep but the adrenaline of being able to see you again kept him up. Sitting at the booth and occasionally glancing at the door, he would try to come up with things to talk about. Of course, he knew he had to explain why he dropped off the face of the earth for years without contacting you. But, he still needed to think of other ways to fix the rift between you both.

“Seungcheol…?”

When he hears his name being called, he lifts up his head and it was as if time had stopped. There you were, shyly standing in front of him as you fiddled with the hem of your skirt. A few seconds after he realised he was staring, Seungcheol snapped back into reality. “Have a seat, __.” Ushering to the seat across him, flashing you that gummy smile that still sent your heart running for miles.

You did as told and after placing both your orders to the waitress who came over, Seungcheol nervously rubbed the back of his neck. “So… I didn’t know you were friends with Vernon…” he began, “Let alone a best friend since, y’know, Aki.”

“Yeah, I didn't really have a choice when he came up to me with that awful tie-dye during orientation. I was so glad when he got rid of it with how much my eyes were hurting.”

“That's Vernon for you,” he chuckles, “When he said he invited a friend, I was expecting maybe a classmate since Mingyu did the same with him.”

As you fidget, Seungcheol takes notice and leans his elbows on the table, reaching out a hand. “Hey, no need to be scared, okay? I know it’s been years and you’re most likely overthinking things right now, but I'm still me.”

“Where did you go…?” you asked in a shaky voice, “You just… ghosted me and later on, I found out you’ve been in Seoul for a while. Why… why didn’t you try to reach out?”

Withdrawing his hand and thrumming his fingers against the surface of the table, Seungcheol was silent for a moment before explaining himself. “That weekend when I headed to Seoul to check out Pledis, they had told my parents I qualified for one of their pre-u programmes. But, the slots in Korea were full, and if I did want to join the programme, I had to join their partnering unis abroad. They had Carat University in Japan and An Ode University in Melbourne.”

You quietly listened to Seungcheol as he continued.

While he wouldn’t mind waiting for an empty slot to be available in Pledis but, his parents had encouraged him to enrol into An Ode as they had an apartment in Melbourne. In the event he didn’t want to stay on his own, they’d be more than willing to pay for his dormitory. “They said the enrolment opportunities for pre-u programmes like these are rare… And, since I was given the opportunity, they encouraged me to take the chance.”

“… And you did…”

“I missed you like crazy, _. But, I couldn't get your calls or texts, not even reply nor call you back because I had to wait two weeks to be able to get a new phone and sim card. When I finally did get them, you had changed your number…”

Your face went red with embarrassment at the memory. A few days after your return from Jeju, your parents had brought you to go shop for a new phone and you’ve decided to change your number in the process. Since Seungcheol had dropped off the face of the earth at the time, you thought it wouldn’t matter anyway if you had changed your number since what were the chances of him calling you?

Turns out you were wrong.

“When I finished the programme, I stayed in Melbourne for a year and a half for their business course before transferring back to Korea to finish it in Pledis.”

“That was… that was at least two and a half years ago. Seungcheol, are you… are you telling me within those two years you never bothered to even look for me?”

“I begged them not to tell you!” he defended, “I wanted it to be a surprise! I wasn’t expecting our first meeting after years to be you witnessing me boxing!”

“I did! I went back to Daegu to look for you, but your parents had told me you went to Pledis! I tried finding you all over the place, but for some reason you were never in my line of sight!”

“Wait, wait,” holding up your hand in disbelief to stop him from talking, “you went to see my parents? They never told me anything!”

“How did you get into it in the first place though?” you asked, the waitress arriving with a tray of drinks and some cakes, “I heard you’ve been underground boxing for a year now.” Taking a sip from his drink, Seungcheol stared out the window, watching random cars and pedestrians pass by.

“I’ve been underground boxing for two years, actually, when I was back in Melbourne.” he answered. “A senior saw me during one of my Taekwondo matches during pre-u and invited me to try boxing. A few months later, he introduced me to this trainer who was looking to coach someone for a boxing match and everything just kinda fell into place.”

As a blanket of silence fell over the table, you muttered out a small “I missed you…”. Seungcheol gives you a smile, reaching out his hands to hold yours as he brings them to his lips, placing a kiss on your knuckles – an action that causes you to blush. “Well, I’m here now. I’ll make it up to you, alright?”

“I expect good food.”

And he replies with a sentence that has the butterflies you thought had died start fluttering again.

“Anything for you, pup.”

“...No…”

“Yes.”

“No… You’re lying…‘

“___, I swear on my life, I am not lying.”

“Ew, Cheol, that’s gross!” You whined, pushing at his shoulder with a disgusted expression, “I don’t need to hear about your sex life – much less a three way you had!”

Seungcheol laughs at your reaction, “Hey, if you think mine’s gross, you sure hear Mingyu’s. Who knew models were so… hormonal.”

“Lalala, I’m not listening!”

After your catch-up lunch at the cafe, you brought Seungcheol to the park near your apartment. The area enroute… was sketchy, to say the least, and that was putting it lightly. If you were to remove the sugarcoating, it looks as though you could get mugged or abducted if you lady luck was having a bad day and decided to take it out on you.

“No offence, pup –”

“Non taken.”

“But, at least three blocks of your housing area looks like they’re being used for drug operations. I know you can fight for yourself – I mean, I taught you how to defend yourself when we grew up together. But, have you ever thought about… y’know, moving to a safer area?” 

You had thought about moving out, but with the current rent prices being equivalent to a monthly mortgage payment, the dingy area is the best you got.

“I mean… It can’t be that bad, right…?”

“___, look at the place… I know you value your independence but, surely there are studios or apartments for rent that are safer and more… well lit, y’know?” Seungcheol notices how you began to pick at your nails, a habit he’s noticed when you both grew up and a sign that you were either anxious, nervous or both.

“Budget restraints?”

“Yeah… This is the best I got, Cheollie… Anywhere close to campus is expensive, and a decent apartment is… well… if I had a mortgage, I could pay that off, y’know…? I have a part-time job – I work as a barista at one of the cafes near campus. It pays decently, kind of higher than the usual amount part-timers get per hour but, let’s say I move out and rent an apartment near campus – I wouldn’t be left with much money after paying for rent and the utility bills…”

“Ever thought of getting roommates?”

“In case you’ve forgotten, Mr Choi, I am not a people’s person. Ask Hansol, it took me a year to actually open up to him, even after he’s been introducing me as his best friend for months.”

“Your parents should have property in Seoul, right? Why don’t you stay there instead?”

“Because I’m an only child, Seungcheol. My parents will pay the bills even if I was willing to fork up my own cash!”

Adding on the fact that you had no transport of your own, the dingy little apartment area really did seem like the best option for you – at least, for Seungcheol he was still… iffy (rightfully so, he wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you).

“Any public transport nearby?”

“There’s a bus stop that’s a 5 minute walk away from my place.”

“Okay…”

What you forgot to mention however, was the lack of reliable or functioning light source of said bus stop to your apartment’s lobby. But, surely, it wasn’t a detail worth mentioning to Seungcheol, you thought to yourself.

“Y’know, I thought your crush on Seungcheol would actually die down within those 5 years of no-contact.” Aki confessed as you typed on your laptop, phone propped up against one of your pen organisers. “I mean, it kind of did? But, instead of you being over over him, it’s more like… it’s more like your feelings weren't as obvious as back then.”

“Was it that obvious though?” you asked, turning your head to look at her as she shrugged her shoulders, “Not gonna lie, you’re pretty good at hiding it. I only noticed it after spending more time with you and noticing the subtle signs. If anyone was observant enough, they’d notice. But, to those that just look over the surface, not really.”

“...Do you think Cheol noticed…?”

“___, I might offend you and almost all the male species out there with this statement but, boys are dumb.” Aki moves her position from her desk to her bed, lying down on her stomach. “You both have been friends since you were kids so he should be picking up the signs. If he doesn’t then he’s either dumb or playing dumb.”

There was a moment of silence between the two of you before you asked, “Do you think he knows I like him and he’s just playing me?”

“You and I both know Seungcheol isn’t like that,” Aki began, “Your well-being is a priority to him – you’re a priority to him. Maybe he’s never thought about it, y’know? You both grew up together, maybe the lines were blurred to him.”

Aki could still see the uncertainty on your face, which by all means, you had every right to feel that way. After all, Seungcheol had gone no-contact for 5 years and a person can change a lot within those 5 years. Who’s to say he actually is just a bastard who would step on people’s heads just to get what he wants. “Why don’t you start spending more time with him? Like the good ol’ times!” Aki suggested.

“But… what if he is, and he’s just really good at hiding it?” you asked again, the anxiety and nervousness eating you up as you thought about Seungcheol taking advantage of your feelings.

“___, darling, you and I both know Seungcheol always puts his loved ones above him – he makes them a priority. And, he’s always put you first, even up to the point he dropped off the face of the earth!”

“Rekindle the friendship, y’know? Sure, you both had a catch up session today, but you and I both know that isn’t enough. 5 years worth of catching up – and not to mention, I need to kick his ass.”

You let out a small laugh, “You’ll need to fly over to do that, Aki.”

“Hey, don’t tempt me, ___.” Aki playfully warns, narrowing her eyes at you and pointing a finger at the screen, “I have the money to do so, and I will.”

“God, Aki…”

"Hey, Seungcheol isn't the only one that would do anything for you and has the money to do so."

[0212] cheollie: hey, ik it's pretty late rn [0213] cheollie: but, i just wanted to text you this before i forget [0213] cheollie: thanks for agreeing to meet up with me today and hear me out about my whole disappearance and lost all contact [0213] cheollie: and i'm really, really, really glad that you still see me as that boy you grew up with all those years ago [0214] cheollie: and i really had a great time catching up with you today [0214] cheollie: and i'll always be here for you if you ever need me, ok?

Seungcheol stared at the text he's about to send out.

i'm always going to be right by your side no matter what

After silently debating with himself, he deleted the draft and set his phone on his nightstand, laying in his bed as he stared at the ceiling of his dark bedroom - contemplating as he slowly drifted off to sleep.

taglist (unable to tag a few ㅠㅠ)

@yoonclip @1004luvangel @catjunhui @mystikha @spk93 @tinkerbell460 @yoozuku @dnylwooo @christinewithluv @limbomoon @plutoxxxworld @i-give-up-1234 @m1ngyuc0re @yunloyal @leclercloverbot @bettybeako @billboard-singer @ocyeanicc @krupyadoorrahe @seobinnieshi @xcynthiaaa @k411z @disneyprincesshuri @sunnyapp @khxsh @staygenezy @loufi8iepuff @ursweetener @noisypapergalaxy @wonwootakemyheart @sugainpinksweater @leah-rose03 @thisisnotthelastofus @yearnoclock @kwonhoeshi @minhui8966 @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @ru-lin @deobiforever @belladaises @cheoliekkuma @duskunt1ldawn @hyneyedfiz @marshmallowshouse @ak6ko @chwevernonlover @jejuboo-s @tsukinluv @atinytinaa @gyros-cum-sock @soupbinlily @jungwoos-luvr @ener-energy @watermelon-sugars-things @cyberpunkhwx @ddaengpotate @nightwingsrobbinhoods @chaerrylov3r @joshuaahong @wonussmile @uliceeeeeeee @wonwoo24 @shinetogether17 @simplejihoon @luvkpopp

[avalynlestrange]

Opposite

Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Reader: she/her pronouns, no house mentioned but are friends with the Slytherin Squad and Hufflepuff Faction <3

Warnings: swearing, mentions of underage drinking, implied sex-no smut. It’s literally a sentence- (Please let me know if I missed any)

Category: Angst, One-Shot, Songfic, ex-boyfriend, on and off relationship, jealousy, no use of y/n

Summary: In which Mattheo has a new girlfriend and she looks nothing like you.

So y'all are in Hogsmeade now? Guess it's public.  You recall what Annlynn looks like and note that she has a face like that other girl you're in love with. The one in that movie you both watched again and again since it was his favourite. You scoff. ‘You knew I would see that. You knew I would notice.’ You think to yourself.

Request: anon requested

Author’s Note: I hope this is to your liking <3

Word Count: <2k

To The Library (Main Masterlist) To The Kitchen (WIPs) To emails i can't send fwd: Anthology To more Mattheo Riddle fics

You are in the astronomy tower for your evening lesson, and you hear giggling next to you.

“Mattheo says I’m his type.”

Your ears prickle at the mention of his name. 

Oh, so you do have a type? And it's not me.

You brush off the memory of the argument you had with Mattheo the previous year when he would rather drink a shot than tell everyone at the party what his type was. That action stung even to the present day. You remember him defending himself saying that everyone knew you were his girlfriend and that he didn’t need to describe you. It still would have been nice to hear.

“He’s been writing to me all summer.” The same voice spills more tea to her friends.

Oh, so you can reply? Just to not me. 

All summer you had hoped that Mattheo would write to you taking back the harsh words exchanged in your heated break-up a few weeks before the holidays. You sent him a postcard from Paris saying you wished he was with you, but you never got a response. You didn’t think anything of it since it was just a postcard, and he never usually replies to them.

Ever since then, the closest you have ever had to talking was during potions where you asked him to pass the jar of bat wings.

That was a week ago.

You now hear the same group of voices ask about you, to which the girl responds, “He says he’s over her and wants something new. He’s so obsessed with my eyes.”

You can’t tell if she’s speaking loudly for your benefit, but you certainly know that she is aware of your vicinity now as Pansy swears at them and throws them the finger. You quickly grab your friend’s arm and gently move her away.

Despite your better judgement, you turn to look at the person speaking about your ex-boyfriend as you stride to the other side of the room.

‘If you wanted those colour eyes. I could have got contacts.’

“Ignore them. You deserve better anyways.” Pansy tries to reassure you. You nod in agreement, but you can’t shake the uneasiness you feel when you look at Mattheo and he’s looking at her.

⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾

“Pass me the butter?” Daphne requests. 

Your head feels faint and wobble the butter dish nearly dropping the lid, and the whole butter itself, into Pansy’s hot chocolate.

“That’s not the dairy I want in my cup.” Pansy jokes. She takes the dish off your hands and passes it over to Daphne.

“You look like a panda. Are you feeling alright?” Tracey asks, taking a bite out of her breakfast. She calls your name when you don’t reply. 

Your eyes give the great hall a once over and notice that the person haunting your nights is not at his usual seat with his friends. 

“He’s on a date in Hogsmeade.” Informed Susan. “I heard Annlynn brag about it last night in the common room.”

You saw Pansy glare at Susan.

“What? Ow! Why did you kick me?” Susan reaches down to rub her hurt shin.

So y'all are in Hogsmeade now? Guess it's public. 

You recall what Annlynn looks like and note that she has a face like that other girl you're in love with. The one in that movie you both watched again and again since it was his favourite. You scoff. ‘You knew I would see that. You knew I would notice.’ You think to yourself.

“Guys it’s fine. His loss and besides she looks nothing like me.” You can't really tell, should you be tryna take it as a compliment? It's kinda feeling like the opposite. You see your friends look at each other and then at you.

“Yes girly! Let’s go shopping and show him what he’s missing!” Pansy hypes you up as she raises her teacup and you all clink.

“Hear hear!”

⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾

Browsing the racks in Galdrags Wizardwear, you have two outfits on hangers in your hands. You head over to the mirror stand by the shop’s main window frame and alternate putting the outfits in front of you. Your eyes look outside, and you catch them holding hands.

With the mirror in front of you, you couldn’t help comparing yourself and the girl he has in his arms.

‘She looks nothing like me. So why do you look so happy?’

Now you think you get the cause of it. He was holding out to find the opposite. From your hair to your eyes to your style. Even when you changed your hair because he said you looked better if you had it styled that way. It’s all the opposite of her.

And you know now, even if you tried to change that somehow, he’d end up with her anyway.

You snap out of your head when Megan scares you from behind. “You’d look cute in either.”

“Get both!” You hear Millicent from the other side of the room.

You smile and it fades when you lock eyes with Mattheo.

⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾

He was with her longer than you thought they would be. It’s been weeks now. Gazing at the ceiling of your four-post bed, many questions swirl around your mind.

When you argue, does she say nothing so you feel good? When you’re at parties, does she step out of the spotlight so you bathe in it?  When you’re alone, does she get up on top of you more than I would? When you capture her in your sketchbook, does she just love the picture 'cause you're painting it?

“Are you coming?” Your dorm mate calls to you.

It’s the first official match of the year. Slytherin vs Gryffindor. Although you protested not attending and insisted you’d rather stay inside your friends won even though it’s a rainy November. 

You grab your umbrella and raincoat and tread your way to the quidditch pitch. The crowd in the stands were wild in anticipation. Susan beckons you to sit with them, and they’re all dressed devoid of house colours. 

The students cheered for every goal scored and every goal saved. You scream and laugh to your heart's content. The feeling is freeing, and the autumn showers subside. Whizzing brooms and bludgers make you forget about the one boy on the team playing that still held your heart.

At least not until the whistle blows and Mattheo flies toward your stand. The beat of your heart pounds fast in your chest. Is he going to whisk you away like that the first time you broke up? Then your heart falls heavy and your lungs dispel all the hope in your body as you watch him take off with her.

Only it wasn’t Annlynn. But they do have the same features. 

⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾

It was a bad idea from the start. Studying with your shared friendship circle. But you had missed him. The only time you ever get to interact with him was in group settings.

He was seated beside you for two hours. You’d ask him what he wrote for certain questions, and he’d reply politely. Like he was talking to a stranger, not an old friend. But you take it. You take whatever communication you could get.

You ask once more for his answer to a defence against the dark arts question however, before he could reply, his chair is pulled back, and a girl sits on his lap.

You look away at the public display of affection they share. The nib of your quill ruined by the pressure you place on it.

“Get a room!” You hear Blaise chuckle. 

You whip your head to see Mattheo standing, his arm wraps around her. “Let’s go Harper.”

“Get it boy!” Blaise winks at him. Mattheo shakes his head laughing.

They’ve all looked nothing like you. So why does he look so happy? He really must have been holding out to find the opposite.

⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾

At the after-party for Slytherin’s win against Ravenclaw, all were present in the great hall. You fill up your cup with whatever fruit blend was in the punch bowl.

“Hey there! Care to Dance?” A quick glance at Mattheo and his date and you take the hand of one Anthony Goldstein.

You danced the night away and had nearly seven cups of the now alcoholic punch bowl, thank you Weasley twins. You tried everything to forget that Mattheo once again was with another girl who doesn’t resemble you. 

Throughout the night your eyes darted to Mattheo and his new girl. The only time their lips were apart was when he would take a swig out of his cup. Every time you saw them, you took a gulp out of yours.

Now, you weren’t drunk per se, but you were feeling a little dizzy after twirling and swaying to the music. You see them walk out of the hall and you couldn’t take it anymore. 

You decide to head outside for some air. You wipe a tear off your face with the back of your hand. 

Whilst opening the courtyard door, you bump into someone. You catch yourself on to the biceps of the person.

“Oh my! You must work out!” The words come out as easily as you sipped the alcohol that caused the bravery.

“Careful darling wouldn’t want your date to think you’re hitting on me.” At the sound of Mattheo’s voice, you curse quietly. You take your heels off and walk away. Footsteps seem to be following you.

“How is Goldstein?” Mattheo asks, pronouncing the name slowly, a hard expression on his face.

You sit on one of the stone arch windows. The cold surface cools you down slightly.

“Oh, he is fine as hell!” You glare at him and with bitterness in your voice you ask, “How is clone number 4?” 

You roll around a gobstone you find on the floor with your foot and kick it a bit too hard toward Mattheo.

“Her name is Maya. Why do you care anyway?” He kicks the stone back to you.

“I care but I don't!” Your volume is lower, your shoulders slouch, and your neck tilts downwards. “Just wondering when… all those times you… you said I'm beautiful. Was I being lied to?”

Looking up at him, you can’t tell if his expression is soft, or it is because your eyes are starting to water. When he says nothing, you carry on.

“She looks nothing like me. Can't really tell should I be tryna take it as a compliment? It's kinda feeling like the opposite.”

He takes a step forward and you hear him whisper your name. “You are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever known.”

You laugh scornfully. “Then why are you with her and not back with me?”

Mattheo runs his hands through his hair and holds them in his fists. “Because you were right!”

Your brows furrow. He continues, “Darling, I’m not good enough for you!”

“I have never said that!” 

Flashbacks to your argument run through your mind. It might have slipped out. You can’t remember. It was all a blur. You don’t even recall the reason why you broke up this time. Whatever was said you were sure you never meant it. You never meant to hurt him like this.

“But it’s true! You deserve more than what I can give you. You deserve the world darling.” He takes another step towards you.

You look up and his eyes meet with yours.

“I don’t want the world. I want you.”

That’s all it took for his walls to crash down as his lips crashes yours.

[lunarw0rks]

Old Bones | Chapter Eleven

Summary: After fleeing a toxic relationship, you fear for your safety and hire a bodyguard. He's masked, impassible, and damn good at what he does.

Warning(s): PTSD/abuse themes, explicit content (18+), strong language, depictions of nightmares/panic attacks, hurt/comfort, smut, p in v sex, unprotected s*x, hehe

Word Count: 6.2k

A/N: Watch by Billie Eilish + Fine Line by Harry Styles inspired this chapter. Not proofread entirely, so don't mind mistakes. Enjoy!

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ GHOST MASTERLIST // have a request? ⋆ ⚘ 🕊 ˚✧ ₊˚ʚ prev. chapter | next chapter | ao3 ver. | playlist ꒦꒷ O.B MASTERLIST

Watch Me Burn

“Think this is the last of it.” Simon huffs, setting down the last box.

You were finally back there, standing in the middle of the home Cal and you once shared. Selling it was too much of a hassle, and it was decently sized. Perhaps it was a calm before a storm; how tranquil you felt standing in the middle of the entrance hall. Or the kitchen, the dining room, worst of all—the bedroom.

But you were here now, and he was soon to be cremated. There was no room for dwelling, at least that’s what you’ve been telling yourself. And Simon? His awkwardness has been well disguised if there is any left by now.

The drunken kiss—it was just that; a drunken kiss.

With the horrible shit you two had been through to land you here, unresolved tension became the new way of communicating. You began to think you both fed on the chaos like if things were too calm, the world would implode.

“Thank you.” You say, playing with the new house keys. Internally, you were showing gratitude for more than just him moving a few boxes, it was how resilient he had been, despite all your baggage and unpredictability.

He merely nods, reaching into his pocket for his carton of cigarettes. He was going to leave you to do… whatever it was you needed to do in order to be comfortable here. Simon hadn’t expected you to ever want to be back here, to want to spend your new riches on travel.

However, if Simon learned anything about you during these months; life on the road didn’t suit you, especially not with him. And in truth, he had no plans once you got settled here. At first, he was going to move straight to his next op, forget about this one.

It was abundantly clear he was well past self-control, though. That’s what frightened him the most.

You turned yourself in a circle a few times, admiring the high ceilings and decor still left behind. It was the same as Christmas Eve, only the evidence of Cal’s tantrum had been long cleaned up. He really wasn’t here when he was hunting you—he had sent a housesitter, most likely, given the fact that there wasn’t a speck of dust in the main living area.

There were only small reminders; the scuffs on the hardwood, the dents by the china cabinet, and a nasty scratch in the dining table from the night you left. You’d be lying if looking at the damages didn’t paint a vivid image of each blow that causes them.

When you gazed at the scuffed hardwood, you remembered the way he flipped the table the first time you fought. Then, the china cabinet—merely a cabinet of things for him to hurl in your direction. Worst of all, the dining table with a scratch from the knife you grabbed, scraping across the oak when he dragged you across it.

In each small area, you were rewatching the moment as a numb spectator, as if you had a third-person viewing of your fight for your life.

You hadn’t realized, but you had been literally walking down memory lane, physically tracing your fingertips along each reminder. “Found this in the truck, must’ve fallen out of your bag.” His sudden presence startled you, but it was a blessing. Any longer, and you would’ve probably ripped up the real estate papers and kept moving.

He was outstretching one of your necklaces, one you definitely didn’t want to be left behind. “Thank you,” you said it again, a double entendre barely concealed with your wavering voice. His poker face made it hard to decipher his awareness—for all you knew he could be feeling nothing towards you.

Simon’s eyes found the dent in the wall, recalling just how long your fingertips skimmed it, the nauseous look on your face. He debated on this next move, but his feet found a position behind you anyway since you didn’t take the jewelry from him yet.

“I hate the carpet. And everything in the dining room.” His subtle breath was the only thing alerting you of his close proximity, or you probably wouldn’t have even noticed. Two hands came in front of you, opening the necklace and slowly wrapping it around the base of your neck. If you hadn’t just been morbidly reminiscing, perhaps your breathing would’ve changed a bit.

He clicked the necklace in place, his gruff voice gentle and appreciative, “so get rid of it all.” It was almost a whisper like he was giving you the permission you didn’t need but were so obviously asking him for. It was your home to renovate, not his.

Simon’s breath smelled of fresh cigarette smoke, lingering in a cloud around you even after his simple words concluded. A hand lingered on your shoulder, giving it a small pat, before he retreated out to the untouched living room.

There was no sense in keeping the reminders, and none of it was to your taste. It was time to get to work if you had any shot of moving on from Cal.

Once you got started, you found it hard to stop.

Tearing out furniture and ripping up the carpet was surprisingly therapeutic, even with the emotional baggage the material things carried. The place was empty, but not understimulating. To you, it was a pleasing blank canvas you had full power to refurbish and leave the old behind. Cleaning up the mess was just an afterthought, but soothing to your soreness from all the handy work.

Of course, Simon would carry heavy things out, or assist in moving something for you. But when you were aggressively hammering a nail and grunting? He… found it beneficial to stay out of your way, with no clue whose face you might’ve been picturing while doing it.

The kitchen was shockingly tidy; the fridge was empty, as were the cabinets. You tackled that room last, disinfecting and placing the few food items you brought with you. Of course, it was a depressing sight; all those cabinets with only a few canned items and some granola bars. On the bright side, you’d only ever seen Simon eat once, so he wasn’t your worry.

Groceries would be a task for tomorrow. For now, you need to rest your legs and feet.

Simon claimed the spare room, which once was Cal’s office. You peered inside of it when you strolled down the hall—he had already laid out a blanket and pillow on the daybed. It was nice enough, for someone like him, at least.

You were taking advantage of the king-sized bed, though. Not one night in your marriage, did you ever get it to yourself. Sometimes you would snuggle in it, hopeful that this would be the night Cal didn’t come up the stairs and join you—or more commonly, that he would be too drunk to drive home.

He never was, of course; a natural buzzkill and energy vampire.

But it was yours now, the whole master bedroom. It had the nicest view of all the rooms; two large windows above the nightstand that overlooked the street, the bed in between them, and a fireplace seating area in the corner. Not that you ever needed this much room, or could even fill the space with all your belongings, but you had earned the right to spoil yourself. It was your home as much as it was his, even though it didn’t feel that way with Cal.

You practically expelled all the air in your lungs, the second your back hit the plush mattress. You sprawled out, almost in a starfish position as you looked around at your new room. The walls had always been kept white, as did the sheets—allowing you to picture it entirely renovated, to your design taste.

Though, if you had another minute of thinking about renovation, you would’ve lost your mind. You hadn’t even taken off your shoes, and your eyes were fluttering shut. In all honesty, you were too worn out to care about the position you were in, or the shoes still on your feet.

—

You sat up in the bed, feeling yourself in the exact position you had snoozed. You looked at the alarm clock to your right, red numbers being one of the only sources of light.

12:32 AM

Clearly, you needed it, because you hadn’t even moved in your sleep, or pulled the covers up. You reached up a hand, rubbing your tired eyes. Of course, you were now wide awake at midnight. Just your luck.

You propped yourself up on your elbows, embraced by the softness of the bed beneath you. A warm tingle was overtaking you like you were taking a soothing shower or bath. It was perfect… Too good to be true, right?

The bedroom was the same, nothing disturbed. But, as comforting as it was, something was off balance. There was no faint sound of the TV downstairs or the occasional clearing of his throat, only the white noise of the AC.

Now that you’ve moved and gathered your bearings—it was icy cold, more than what could be blowing from the vents. And… there was a mumble growing louder; a man’s voice you couldn’t decipher from your room.

Your legs swung off the edge of the bed, taking an instinctual look over your shoulder as if searching for the source of this ill feeling. There was no monster in the shadows, or a hand from under the bed grasping at your ankle. Not even the feeling of a presence—but you knew there was one. Who was talking, at this hour? The confusion made your brows knit, and your mouth hang open slightly.

Normally, you would’ve just got up and investigated the sound. But, getting to your feet was taking some courage right now, and you were moving about half the speed you would any other time. When you turned your head toward the bathroom, the door was still open—the washroom was nothing but a pitch-black abyss right now.

And the closet? You were too shaky to go in that direction, shaking your head at the idea immediately. That left the door in and out of the bedroom, where the muffle was coming from somewhere in the home.

You fingered the brumal knob, feeling it sting against your steaming flesh. The air was cold, causing goosebumps, but you were simultaneously burning up from a feeling of impending doom. The hinges cracked, almost sounding similar to the low-octave male voice still audible.

The door opened and it was… the hallway. The same way it was when you went to sleep, only illuminated by one of the sconces. Still, the sound was coming from the spare room. When you looked, there was a near-blinding light coming from under the door.

A hushed, growly whisper went past you—no, through you, like a stranger passing you on the street while speaking. You shivered again, eyes darting down each side of the hall. Down the steps, it was like the master bath, a dark abyss you didn’t want to trek through.

That left the spare room in all its blinding glory, and whoever, whatever was behind the door. This time, you pushed forward with all the speed you could muster. Not even a light jog, as if you had the weight of the Earth constricting your joints.

The muffle got louder, even overbearing when you opened the door to the spare room. It wasn’t the empty room with stray boxes and tools—it wasn’t your house at all. You squinted and held up your forearm to shield the light, taking several seconds for your eyes to adjust. It was the large windows—those large windows from the office building. And now, you could hear the voice clearer now.

You turned the corner and saw yourself. The moment Cal was creeping up on you, touching your waist. Though you were watching it from a different angle, seemingly watching it play out the same way it happened—it wasn’t. The woman you were watching, she wasn’t moving, not budging against his hands. She was… just standing there, white-knuckling the glass of whiskey her husband poured for her. He leaned closer, and as he tightened the grip on her waist, you felt two hands on yours, two that felt very lucid. So tight you felt like the assailant had sharp claws.

You could smell him; the stench of whiskey and cruelty warm on your neck. But you couldn’t speak, not scream, or resist. Just like the replay of the day he died, you were standing there like her, the guilt of being weak-kneed made you sick.

He could’ve clawed you in half, how harshly he was holding you in place. It was like a mockery of watching what would’ve happened if you didn’t break the glass over his head—and he was making you watch. Every second, every struggle, every cruel thing Cal would’ve said if you let him touch you.

This wasn’t you. You wanted to bellow at her to fight him, and more so at yourself for not making a run for it. Why couldn’t you move? Despite his hands feeling like they were going to tear you in half? It was pure humiliation—the woman in front of you that once got off the kitchen floor on Christmas Eve, now a face of blood and bone.

You turned around slowly, feeling salty tears go from your face all the way down to your lips.

His sneer would’ve been seen for miles—the sadism written on Cal’s face as if he was still feeding on your tears, even in death, even in your dreams. It wasn’t just his mortal face, it was the one he was left with in death—a spewing bullet wound through the forehead soaking you in his blood.

You could taste it after a few seconds, the metallic taste coating your face and body the closer he leaned in. His lips brushed against yours, just like the day they did in the office. The crimson was filling your mouth, causing you to hack and reach for your throat.

Your shoes squeaked against the marble floor of the office, looking down and seeing gallons of the stuff pooling. You could feel his blood trickle and seep into the fabric of your clothes, in the whites of your eyes with an excruciating burn.

As badly as you wanted to call out his name, your mouth was too coated to get the words out. It was hot, so hot it made you stumble. Your vision was gone—replaced by the blood that flooded your irises. You felt yourself nearly fall, as you ripped yourself from his grip.

You were palming through the ruby of your vision, arms outstretched. Though you couldn’t see, you could still feel him looming over you, watching in amusement as the pools of blood squelched under your feet.

Then, you felt your hands grip something, or someone. You hung on for dear life, blinking away the currant that washed your vision. It still seared, still coated your throat and face, but you could finally make out the figure; Simon.

You blinked rapidly, a chest cough followed by more blood as you watched him. He was staring straight ahead at first, until he felt you beating on his chest, yanking on the fabric of his clothes, just like you had done when strangled. The lifeless version of Cal, he had fizzled out the second Simon approached, nowhere to be seen in the shadows of the office anymore. As well as the alternate version of Cal and you—they were gone too.

Left in the room, it was you and Simon. One soaked with blood, gasping for breath. The other was tattered and seething at the sight.

Simon’s eyes widened as if he had just now noticed you. His hulking, veiny hands are outstretched, cupping each side of your saturated face, taking a step closer to you. Under the mask, you could see the fabric move, like he was speaking to you—but your sound was muffled again.

You plummet from a great height. Adrenaline-fueled rush courses through your veins, instantly jolting your senses awake. The wind roars past your ears with an ear-piercing howl. Your stomach clenches and churns, a sensation that feels like a roller coaster taking a wild descent. The feeling of weightlessness washes over you as if gravity has momentarily lost its grip, leaving you suspended in a free-falling void.

The pit of your stomach seems to drop with each passing moment as if trying to catch up to the plummeting rest of your body.

The blackness seizes hastily—your view is of widened amber eyes, and you can feel the same hands cupping your cheeks, just like the nightmare. The burn in your throat wasn’t from blood, it was from your screaming. The searing in your eyes, it was stemming from the tears streaming down your cheeks.

For the first few seconds, you were still half-in, half-out, pounding on his chest with all the shaky strength you could muster.

“Look at me, look at me.” Simon kept repeating it, only gripping the sides of your face faster. If he wasn’t restricting you, you were surely going to hurt yourself or him, so he had to. You were hyperventilating, still stuck in that dream-like state of terror and the threat of him attacking you. His pressing weight was caging you in place, no matter how much you yelped and thrashed to get running.

In a swift movement, Simon tugged at the edge of his mask, pulling it entirely off his head. “It’s me, it’s me!” He raised his voice, his identity now in your full sight. When he was wearing the mask, he probably appeared more like a masked intruder than a comforting soul—he had to snap you out of this, even if it meant breaking his own rules.

You could see him now; a chiseled jaw and protruding eyes cloaked by years of dark circles, a faint stubble across his chin, and that scar you had touched a few nights ago. It wasn’t an assailant or Cal, it was Simon.

Your hollers halted, now only quiet sobs against his chest. Everything in the dream felt so vivid, so real, lucid enough you were controlling your every movement, but not enough to rid yourself of the threat. The adrenaline you felt during the night terror left you unable to shut your eyes or stop wailing as if you were being actively hunted for sport.

“I’m sorry. It felt too real, Simon.” You whispered against his chest, one hand digging your nails deep into his bicep. His knees were on either side of your waist, anchoring you up enough to use him as a pillow. It seemed the only way he could successfully wake you was to straddle your frame, to cup your cheeks.

What he had done in the present, injected its way into the night terror—perhaps the reason it all felt too real.

“I know.” A calloused thumb stroked your cheek, his head resting against the crook of your neck. He didn’t need to ask the source of the nightmare, and he wasn’t going to. It was a natural reaction, being in this house all day reminded of your worst memories. You tried to hide it throughout the day, but Simon was too observant for his own good.

When he heard your shrieks in the next room, half-asleep on the daybed, he knew. This would’ve happened eventually. Just because Cal was dead, didn’t mean he was dead to you. His ghost still loomed in every room of that place, a constricting weight on your shoulders.

He had witnessed his fair share of adrenaline highs and experienced plenty on his own too. Only then, he didn’t have the luxury of a shoulder to cry on. There was no way in hell he would damn you to that same loneliness he had, no matter how much his inner voice bellowed at him to put the mask back on.

“Sit up, you won’t be so shaky.” Once hovering over you, he eased up, a gentle tug on your wrist to get you sitting up. Eyes still wide, tear stains on yourself and the fabrics of the bed. He looked behind him, seeing the armchair by the fireplace. Simon guided you to it, allowing you to sit down somewhere other than the bed occupied with memories.

He dropped to his knees in front of you slowly, a fist finding your ankle. You flashed a look of confusion, but you weren’t in any position to protest. It felt safe, despite the outward appearance Simon had—broody and dripping with masculinity.

His fingers found the tongue of the shoes you fell asleep wearing, pulling them off slowly.

“Better?” He asks, figuring out the answer quite quickly based on your silence. You nodded in response, wiping your cheeks with your sleeve. It felt the same as it did when you were younger; embarrassed for being afraid of a nightmare. It was just that—a nightmare, but that didn’t mean you didn’t feel every bit of it.

The light from the hallway was the only thing allowing you to see his face; washed out by the golden tint of the light bulb, but pleasing to look at. “Thank you, Simon.” God, how many times you said it that day, probably too many times. He would never accept it, not since the beginning of this road, and especially not after what happened at the apartment.

But, without his mask, he didn’t have his usual safety net of anonymity. His face was as blank as you expected it would be, aside from the slight scowl on his lips. “Stop sayin’ that.” He wanted to get up, but his palm remained wrapped around your calf, gazing at you with confliction.

You tilted your head to the side, leaning against the backrest of the armchair, “yeah, but I meant it.”

“I know you did,” he replied, his speech still a mumble even without the mask, “that’s why I said not to.” Simon didn’t deserve the gratitude, as far as he was concerned. Especially not from you. The last thing on your mind should be thanking him, being kind to him, and even looking him in the eye. But you did—every single day.

“You know you don’t have to stay, right?” You asked, the flicker of the hall light still concealing his pout slightly. You didn’t mean here, you meant in general; he didn’t have to, but he always did. You inhaled sharply, feeling his thumb still caressing your calf soothingly. “And… I’m not upset with you. You have to know that, at least.”

Perhaps it was the fog in your mind or the nerves still working overdrive, but his silence was too still for your liking. It wasn’t distaste, it was his old habits keeping him from indulging.

The hand was removed quickly and placed back on his own knee. You heard the shuffle of his pant fabric like he was going to stand up and leave the bedroom. But he didn’t—his head dropped in the direction of the floor.

“Simon?” Your tone was hushed, eyes squinted with unsettle.

“Stop it.” He grumbled, the whites of his eyes still glowing within the dim lighting. Simon blinked slowly when he met your gaze again, unable to accept the perturb. There was so much he wanted to say, but he didn’t. That much was obvious.

He heard you stammer, a sentence cut short when he spoke so firmly. “Stop being so fuckin’ nice to me.” Though the words themselves were harsh, it was nothing more than a defeated whisper—a plea to halt your tenderness before he lost all self-control.

What he desired was to find the mask he flung only minutes ago, slip it on, and slam the door behind him. His presence remained; a commanding voice, despite being the one kneeling in front of you. And you? Ever persistent, and he despised it with every fiber of his being.

You scoffed, but it was coming from a place of intense empathy.  “Am I supposed to scream at you? Beat you bloody?” The question hung in the air for a few seconds, followed by a snappy retort. He would never let himself relax, even feel, could he?

“No, you need to stop treating me like someone you deserve. You’re not that stupid.” Simon hissed with a slight roll of his eye. You clutched each armrest tightly, mouth slightly hung open from his self-pity.

His shell was breaking—the umbrage was just the last futile attempt at restricting you before it shattered completely. When that happened—and it would—he had but a clue about his next step. Why had he remained in this spot for so long, kneeling so closely to you?

“Why did you stay then? The night at the cabin, after Cal?” It surely wasn’t because he had to. You were onto him, and you weren’t going to let him go now, not unless he packed up and left right this second.

His stammer said enough, the tightened grip on his own appendage as if he was squeezing the reply from his own body. If he said what he wanted to, it wouldn’t be something cruel. He couldn’t be cold to you. That’s what frightened him the most.

You hunched forward slightly, a hovering hand on his shoulder. Simon tensed out of reflex, but didn’t physically stop you—he couldn’t anymore. Tonight was a breaking point, and his face had been in your sights for several minutes now.

“Don’t do this.” Finally, he gathered his bearings and clamped a hand around your wrist, the sheer size of his hand swallowing yours entirely. He let out a heavy breath, his glowing eyes burning holes into yours.

Your reply was as simple as blunt as you could muster; a one-worded question you’ve had for a long time. “Why?”

His fingers clenched a little tighter, expecting you to squirm. But you didn’t. “Because I won’t be able to stop myself,” he blinked slowly, eyes drooping with the small sliver of weakness he was showing you right now. Who said you wanted him to stop? In fact, nothing about you did. Not even your reddened eyes, or the tension you carried. It was a simple concept to grasp, but someone as stubborn as himself hadn’t. Yet.

This time, it was you who initiated the intimacy. It wasn’t sensuality; it was reassurance—something Simon needed desperately. You pressed your forehead against his, fingers finding the stubble you could finally touch.

He breathed heavily into the kiss, an instinctual hand protecting the back of your head when he pushed your weight back into the armchair. Somewhere in it, he had stood up again, able to deepen the lip contact by hovering over you. Simon should’ve fought it, but he didn’t. He wanted you to pull away and realize how ridiculous he felt against you, but you did not.

His lips pulled away with a moist squelch, still a hand on the back of your head. The drunken kiss was messy and heated. This was stone-cold sober—much needed and full of feelings. Simon seemed to be searching for hesitance, any excuse to halt his desires. You only breathed heavily from the loss of air, unblinking and desperate for more.

You nodded slightly, an unspoken plea for that part of him that couldn’t stop himself. Though it seemed like you were leading things, you didn’t have a clue what the hell you were doing either. It just felt right at the moment. After the nod, his free hand clasped the collar of your shirt, pulling you to your feet. He scanned the room around him, though he already memorized the layout the first time he walked in. It was as if he was searching for prying eyes that weren’t there—an instinct when his face was visible.

Instead of the sides of your head, his fingers found your waist, digging into them as he backed you against the dresser. Without a struggle on his end, he lifted you on top of it so he could stand between your parted thighs.

It couldn’t be the bed; it was too domestic for the both of you. He needed somewhere you could easily pull away from him and walk away, as he’d convinced himself you were going to. There was no way this act would carry out completely, right? The rational portion of you had to be buried deep in your lust.

Simon’s fingers gave your waistband a tug, pulling your bottoms off entirely. His eyes remained trained on yours the entire time, expecting some sort of resistance. Hell, he was expecting a slap on his cheek that never came. You wanted this; you wanted him.

The pad of his finger found your swollen clit, rubbing paced circles on the nerves. You felt your breath hitch at the sensation, a clench around the wooden edge of the dresser. Despite how much you wanted this, it was like an out-of-character blur. Simon, being the face to match the lustful hands? You never thought of that as a sight you’d see, never in a million years.

His heavy breathing was just as arousing, how lustfully he was watching despite not being the one being touched. Words weren’t coming out, but the language of stares was all the two of you needed right now. Simon could keep searching for refusal, but he wasn’t going to find it. Not while he was massaging your clit so intimately.

The pleasure built rather quickly, as did the pace of your hips rocking against his hands. It had been so long since you touched yourself, let alone a sexual partner doing it for you. When his finger ceased, you let out a small mewl from the emptiness.

From the moonlight illuminating his features, your eyes wandered at the sound of his belt unbuckling. He did it with such haste, such experience. He unzipped his jeans next, pulling them down to his knees to allow access.

Instinctively, you outstretched a hand to palm him through his boxers. It was what you were used to: I do something for you, you have to do the same for me.

“No.” Simon hissed, placing your hands back at your sides. It wasn’t because he didn’t want you to stroke him—he didn’t want the focus on him. You seeing his face was all the focus he could handle right now.

You kept your hands on either side of you, respecting the boundary he had put up, though you didn’t understand its purpose. He pulled down on the waistband of his black boxers, stroking himself for a few seconds, followed by another hiss. Simon stepped back to his original position between your thighs again, only he pulled them further apart—enough for his wide frame to fit comfortably.

You felt his length pressing against your folds, the knuckle of his hand on your inner thigh as he guided it into position. Before he did, he searched for a nod again, or anything, really. You obliged, bracing yourself by clamping down on his shoulder. It had been a long time since you had sex, so it wasn’t going to be particularly comfortable at first. A man of Simon’s stature, no matter the amount of arousal that pooled—you would have to be eased into it.

He guided the tip in first, eyes darting up and down as he slowly pushed his hips forward, his length coated in the lubricating slick caused by his fingers. You let out a pleasured gasp, not yet feeling the stretch that was coming.

When he was sure of the next phase, he placed his lips against your gasping ones, silencing the inevitable whine of discomfort. Still at a snail's pace, he entered even deeper, enough that you needed to sit with him like that for a moment. It was just that; discomfort, not pain. Yet another factor of intimacy you weren’t accustomed to as of late. “Is that… good?” He whispered against your mouth, still only thrusting a portion of himself out—and slowly.

Since he’d given you time to adjust, the discomfort did fizzle away. “More,” you replied, a slight nod of your head. Now, you were arguably enjoying the sensation more than he was.

This time, he didn’t wait for a refusal.

With an abrupter thrust, he bottomed out inside you. It wasn’t roughness, not yet—just his way of ripping off the bandaid. His lips found yours again, allowing you to bite down on his lower lip at the sudden stretch. The angle he was at; you sitting on top of the dresser with your hips slightly raised, and him standing, it felt euphoric, not agonizing.

“Shit…” A guttural groan fell from his lips as his movements began, methodical and pleasuring for both of you. Every sound you made, every little reaction; it made him twitch deep inside you. This is what he wanted when you two finally gave in—you, writhing in front of him and forced to do nothing but enjoy it.

His tip kissed your cervix with each pump, just enough to make your eyes roll slightly. What the hell you two were doing, the consequences tomorrow, none of it mattered. Lust truly did cloud the two of you this moment, and he wasn’t going to stop unless you asked him.

You felt tears prick at your eyes, but it wasn’t from pain or repulsion. It was from how long you had gone without this shared feeling of desire, the closeness of two people. Simon slowed his movements, wiping away the tear with his thumb. He could tell, it wasn’t a fear of him or the past that haunted you—it was pure satisfaction.

You needed this, no, deserved this from someone who truly deserved you.

His experienced hands found your hips, tugging you closer so your chests were touching. You let out another sharp gasp, holding onto him just as tightly. The tug allowed him to hit a deeper spot inside your walls if that was even possible.

The change in position allowed you to raise your knees higher against him, so much you probably could’ve placed your feet up on the dresser. Simon grunted and increased his speed, one hand on your thigh, and the other a flat palm against the wall in front of him. The furniture piece hit the wall with each relentless thrust, the thumb masked by your shared moans of delight. And they were becoming desperate ones, plain desperate.

Your stomach was doing flips, tightening and churning the longer he went at it like this. And Simon, his head leaned back ever so slightly, he was close too. There was no turning back now, too deep in the sensations. But still, you iron gripped him—as if pleading for him not to pull away—something he had no intention of doing.

“Let it out, love.” He rasped in your ear, his hips still going an uninterrupted pound. Love. The unexpected pet name made your already shaking knees turn to putty. You truly would only last seconds at best, especially with that accent smothering you.

What once was a moan with each thrust, now became a growing holler. That breaking point that had been bubbling, the one he gave you permission to, finally struck you—destructively. Each muscle in your abdomen constricted, your head thrown back against the wall at the feeling of euphoria hitting an all-time high. Simon’s hand, once gripping your thigh, was now protecting the back of your head as it thrashed against the wall. His tongue traced along your jaw and chin, the combination of sensations only prolonging the interval.

His fist balled in your hair, just enough to only cause an enjoyable sting. He leaned back slightly to have a better view of his length going in and out of you. The sounds of your high delighted him, the final permission for him to enjoy his own climax.

When he felt a more violent twitch, he pulled himself out, using his hand to finish the rest. Still, he wouldn’t allow you to touch him, you were sure of that. You panted heavily, mouth still agape in awe of the attraction you felt towards this. Your fingers clenched the sides of the dresser once pulled away, feeling the spew of his cum land on your folds.

Simon trembled slightly, giving one of your clothed breasts a yearning squeeze as he drained himself of his seed.

Then, clarity hit him as quickly as his climax did. “You wanted that, right?” He whispered, eyes now full of searching rather than lust. God, his cluelessness would be the death of him before any enemy. You quickly nodded, now slightly more slumped than before. You thought it was obvious, but he did always have a way of shocking you—in more ways than one, now.

Inside, you were shaking your head and smacking sense into him for his own stubbornness.

“Simon,” you panted, tightening your thighs around his waist, “just shut up. Please.” You pushed your head against into chest, using it as a surface to catch your breath on. The sensations you felt replayed already, leaving you sensitive and breathless, but heinously calm in spite of what you two had just done.

It happened so quickly, but it wasn’t regretful or dissatisfying. It was the exact opposite.

TAGLIST: @random-thot-generator @littleobsessionsandlifeslessons @illyanam1011 @stunkbiggu @bi-witch-bxtch @warm-milk-with-honey @xheera @kiamewrites @01trickster10 @m0chac0ffee @tizylish @midwesternwitchery @ramadiiiisme

[cuubism]

It's my favorite/least favorite writing month now, so here's an overly-ambitious list of things I would love to complete during nano :) last year I reached a true feral state of dissociated insanity by the end of November and I do hope to achieve that again!

Happenstance, final chapter. this was on my list and I just finished/posted it :) [COMPLETED]

the follow-up fic to Trade Secrets, the Knight Hob/Prince Dream PWP. more unmitigated smut in this one.

New installment of In Search of Nightingales [bookstore cryptid Dream] -- this one is about Dream moving in with Hob. [COMPLETED]

A Death/Johanna fic that was supposed to be for the femslash event but evidently... was not 😂

The sheltered rich boy Dream & feral child Hob (though it's really not much about that anymore) fic that I've occasionally posted snippets of. This one has gotten... long.

"Ooh, Kinky", a fic about how Dream really likes when Hob does sweet things for him. [COMPLETED]

a very long, post-2022 slowburn getting together fic that I literally started last fall, and has 17k words but isn't finished -- I would really like to finally finally finish that.

At LEAST one of the non-dreamling ideas people sent me way back. I have so many and I ended up writing like... none of them. Oops.

chapter 3 of the melting press of the sun, a fic that wasn't supposed to be longer than one chapter. Hob helps Dream with his post-fishbowl dissociative episodes through the power of Friendship and Really Shitty Reality Television

the Shibari fic that I teased a month ago, wrote half of in one day, and then barely touched since 😂

chapter 3 of the better to see you with, my dear [the Spy Hob AU] which I've left on the back burner for a while now.

A mostly-completed segment of Silly Rabbit AU about various tales and connections Dream is spinning.

In Waking Dreams chapter 7, which is already partially complete.

There's also one or two projects that live at kind of the intersection of fanfic and original fic that have been bouncing around my head so those may come up as well ☺️

And new as of November 1 (goddammit):

A very silly crack fic about Johanna accidentally kidnapping Dream and Hob's weird magical baby (goes about how you'd expect) [COMPLETED]

idea I got stuck in my head last night about Dream making sex Hob's reward for rescuing him as an intricate ritual to let Dream have some intimacy without having to admit that he wants it.

BONUS: prequel to dreamling's magical baby fic [COMPLETE]

BONUS: a little drabble about winter [COMPLETE]

And I've learned better than to promise progress on any outstanding Malec projects.

If any of you are also doing Nano 🫡 Godspeed.

[likesomanywrecksdo]

blitzø + moon symbolism

okay so the music video "Just Look My Way" takes place in Stolas' space-esque personal chamber somewhere in his castle. The music video repeatedly relate Stolas' feelings towards Blitzø with the moon. During the line "let me hold you, keep you close to me, i long to hear your voice" Stolas is seen trying his best to keep the tiny moon in his hands and preventing it from floating away. Again in the line "the walls you've conjured up to live" the moon rotates and we can see Blitzø stuck inside the black space or "dark side of the moon".

the moon symbolism can mean many things in regards to how Stolas feels about Blitzø.

Firstly, it could be a manifestation of how Stolas is always drawn back to those "dazzling moonlit nights", how he constantly tries to grasp for good moments within their time together (the only ones he can find being the full moon meetings) and so he relates Blitzø and the full moon "rendez-vous" directly as a way of coping with their less than ideal experiences outside of that structured and guaranteed time spent alone tgt.

Secondly, it could be a way of showing how Blitzø acts/how stolas views him. As per astrology, the moon is romance, pleasant nights (tying back to my previous points), intense moments, loneliness and mood swings. The last three are a pretty accurate depiction of how Blitzø acts around Stolas. He's hot-headed, closed-off and Stolitz is very much prone to intense moments on both sides, so it's possible Stolas made that connection, believing that holding the moon is the closest he can currently get to holding Blitzø.

Finally, the last image (above) shows Blitzø with his head buried in his legs trapped inside the "dark side of the moon". This could symbolise how Stolas sees this dark and isolated version of Blitzø but also sees the potential for him to open up, be romantic and love Stolas.

the apology tour switch up

In Stolas' apology tour emotional ballad, the two frames above appear (i'm guessing bc the outfit is literally the exactly same as him singing onstage wth Verosika + Tex, the cute ass choker and all). Now there is a change in the background between the moon and the sun, which is a huge switch-up from "Just Look My Way". The significance of which is also very multifaceted.

Stolas could be expressing how he wants more from Blitzø, finally expressing his feelings instead of constantly worrying about how Blitzø will feel. This is probably bc Stolas fears the relationship is over while this open communication and validation that Stolas wants more than just sex is exactly what Blitzø wanted from the start. Additionally, the second frame coul be referencing how in "Just Look My Way", Stolas says "i don't care that your of lower station" and that he wants to be seen with him and be loved by him everywhere. He's tired of keeping it a secret but also has a lot of things to lose if he does.

Secondly, the sun, in astrology, is seen to represent one's sense of self and individuality. This could hint to Stolas having his whole awakening and a whole new idea of who he is because Blitzø came into his life. Because of Blitzø, he's found out so many more things about himself and is capable of doing what is doing (divorcing Stella, giving up Blitzø, the one slightly good thing he's ever had) all because Blitzø showed him how to be free ("showed me this world was bigger than us, then sent me back where i came from'" -Down Bad" by Taylor Swift).

Finally, the switch-up from moon to sun from Blitzø's pov could be a way of showing how his feelings for stolas have changed. This song is the obvious turning point of the Stolitz ship, where Blitzø isn't in denial anymore and knows he's in love with Stolas. As discussed before, the sun represents self-image and in some cases self-esteem. Considering confession of any kind of emotions are not Blitzø strong suit and don't have a huge effect on him (don't evoke much a huge outward response from him). This revelation hitting him so fast would be a huge self-awakening for him as he has not let himself love anyone for a long time.

In conclusion, Stolitz is sun x moon and nobody can convince me otherwise.

[elevatorladylady]

Critical Reread - ACOFAS Chapter 22

Join me on a reread of A Court of Frost and Starlight

Chapter 22 - F/eyre

R/hysand takes F/eyre against the wall. R/hysand gifts F/eyre an estate.

“You never told me where you got it—where you got all my favorite dresses.” R/hys arched a dark brow. “You never figured it out?”

There are literally zero clues that they would have been made by his mother.

“Long ago, when I was still a boy, she made them—all your gowns. A trousseau for my future bride.” His throat bobbed. “Every piece … Every piece I have ever given you to wear, she made them. For you.”

Did SJM forget that R/hysand’s mom also had a daughter? Was she a magical seamstress? Is that why they fit so perfectly, or did she just assume her future daughter-in-laws dimensions?

“I want a mountain—with three stars.” The Night Court insignia.”

I do believe that F/eyre loves the Night Court, but nothing in this book has shown she actually cares about being a leader of it.

“He moved to stand before me, gently taking my hands in his, turning them palm-up. To the cat’s eye that stared at us. “I never snooped, you know.”

Why would he even say this, when they both know it’s not true?

“Yes. More than anything. I’d realized it, felt it, in the weaver’s gallery. “Would it be … Would it indeed be a gift for you?” I dared ask.”

This is not the long and elaborate conversation that should be had before deciding to have kids. 

“I don’t want to,” I said, and meant it. The weaver had made me realize that, too. Or perhaps just see clearly what I’d quietly wanted for some time now.”

What a retcon. When she previously said she wanted to wait she just didn’t realize she actually wanted kids. Good thing that doesn’t play into any real dynamics about women waiting or not wanting kids.

“ I was looking through his eyes”

If they didn’t give me such an ick, I think I might like the idea of using telekinesis during sex.

“Look at how perfectly we fit.”

This feels cringe to me. A lot of people fit well during sex and it bears no meaning on whether it’s a good fit otherwise.

“We had no bodies here, but I felt him as he seduced me, his dark power wrapping around mine, licking at my flames, sucking on my ice, scraping claws against my own.”

Okay, fine, I will admit that mind sex seems pretty cool.

“And when my mind could form words, when I could again feel his essence around me, his body still moving in my own, I sent him that image one last time, into the dark and stars—my gift. Perhaps our gift, one day. R/hys spilled into me with a roar, his wings splaying wide.”

We can all agree its weird to think about a child while cumming, right?

“That’ll come out of your salary, you know.”

I sure hope F/eyre still has a salary.

“We have no space at the town house. You and I can barely fit everything in the bedroom.”

A five bedroom townhouse is just too small for a newlywed couple looking to expand their family!

“And no one wants to be at the House of Wind.”

They know the House of Wind is too remote for even F/eyre and R/hysand who are the two people in Prythian who can both winnow and fly, but even SJM assumes it will be perfect for someone who can do neither.

[bitchinbarzal]

HI LULU ITS THE ANON WHOS BROTHER SENT HIS SEX TAPE TO THE FAM GC AND I GOTTA RANT BC IM MAD

SO me n my bf have been together for 2 years and the trope was very much she fell first he fell harder bc that mf don’t even look or ACKNOWLEDGE other girls right unless it’s like a waitress or cashier HES NOT LOOKING HES NOT TALKING wELL his brother (little dudes 16) started seeing this new girl and she’s pretty and older, she’s 17 so not that much older than little dude but yeah, and MY BABYS HOME FOR THE SUMMER im so happy he’s back and his parents own a lake house and we’re going there for a week during the 4th IM GETTING OFF TOPIC KINDA but little dude is bringing his new gf/girly friend over a lot lately and they have a pool right well whenever me and my babe are outside like swimming or tanning on the deck she’ll come out and at first i was like oh nbd bc she wants to swim too it’s hot out whatever but then i was in the kitchen and i heard little dude ask her if she wants to go swimming and she said no then my love came down in swim trunks and talked to me for a sec and then went out to the deck WELL MISS GIRL LOOKED AT MY BABY THEN LITTLE DUDE AND WAS LIKE “yk what i changed my mind, it is pretty hot” and i was like uh miss girl wut like i don’t wanna overthink and be like oh well she’s tryna fuck my man but then she started being rude as fuck to me, will literally say im fat to my face and the only reason i haven’t beaten the bitch is bc little dude is so happy with her and my boyfriend is a hot motherfucker right and she’s always tryna be around him n shit, like were just watching a movie last night IN HIS ROOM and she comes in and asks if she can watch with us and i immediately said no bc we’re goin on a drive actually and she perked up and asked if she could come and i again said no bc it’s a date thing but she could go on a ride with little dude and she scoffed and rolled her eyes and said IN THE SNOTTIEST FUCKING TONE LUNA “i wasn’t talking to you, liya” (bc my name is liya) and my boyfriend immediately shut that shit down and told her not to talk to me like that and to go hang out with little dude and we left but no idk im just mad bc I JUST FOUND OUT LITTLE DUDE IS BRINGING HER TO THE LAKE HOUSE FOR THE 4TH WEEK and i told my bf on the drive that i don’t wanna be around her anymore and that’s when he told me that little dude asked their parents if he could bring her and they said yes but he said that if i/he told his parents that im uncomfy around her they’ll probably change their mind bc they love me like a daughter and like no idk bc i don’t wanna be around her but i don’t want little dude to be upset for the week or mad at their parents bc he can’t bring her yk?? idk yeah anyway any advice or anything??

she sounds like a bitch!

If you really feel that uncomfortable tell him you’d rather he didn’t bring her.

If you think you can cope with her being there maybe just have a talk with him tell him you feel disrespected by her, she was rude and made you uncomfortable you’d appreciate if he kept an eye out while she was there 💘💘

[thetransomen]

is this my first post? idc. i can't talk about this on my other blogs for personal reasons.

i'm mostly plannng on using this blog as a meta-discussion of sex- and kink-related topics, no erotic fiction or pictures to be found here. these are all my private opinions, no persona or alterego taking over here.

i won't link them but i have a main blog and a porn blog (among others), and i like a lot of fucked up shit.

~

now that that's out of the way, FUCK i had sex - and i mean some hard fucking last night, with another human being for the first time in over a year. and motherfucker! that was a workout. i literally ache all over. my hamstrings are killing me the most. i even felt like passing out at one point.

Some background info - yeah i don't work out at all lately, unless you count going up and down stairs a few times a day. Oh and getting fucked over by life, but well. Isn't that us all?

this guy was really in shape and wanted to try every position possible. and he didn't even make me cum (yeah i came on my own later, plus i got off on the fact that he fucked my ass raw). like he was a nice enough guy and all but. like too vanilla for anyone in the realm of a possible relationship.

i have a feeling he's autistic like me - he kept on going on and on about norse mythology and culture. this was after a series of texts where he seemed hellbent on getting me over to fuck me. i straight up asked if he was horny and he said yes. then when i got there we watched a movie for like an hour while he info-dumped on me. which, i'd get it, if this was a social call. but like, you wanted to hook up and now you want to spend an hour on exposition? bro i'm here to be your cumdumpster, not infodumpster. if you wanna infodump on me while we're fucking that's cool, but i WANT your CUM inside me. first and foremost. Ugh.

Anyway, yeah, besides the acrobatics i did during sex and me asking him to piss on me in the shower (he said he didn't have to go. lame.), it was largely very vanilla. oh and he fucked my ass bc i asked him to. but like. i want to be DOMINATED man. you know what i like. i even sent him an erotic story i wrote. his response? "Interesting." like i want a fucking REVIEW, or at least a "that's hot" would suffice. but when you're infodumping your special interest and i'm giving you honest feedback on that, i give you something i poured my heart and soul into and you just say "interesting" like that fucking meme.

Fuck i just needed to rant somewhere. i deserve a better dom, and even a better hookup. i'm never hooking up with anyone who isn't willing to fucking discipline and degrade me like i need, ever again. loving sex just isn't for me, not in the form of a random hook-up at least. maybe with a girl, or fuck just with someone willing to put some fucking passion into it. that is absolutely required of anyone signing up to fuck me.

thanks or listening to my Ted talk.

[tcwhoree]

9/8/23

It has been a while but after a few poor choices I’d say the roster has dwindled. A few notable happenings since the last update:

- Rekindled with Bobby but realized pretty quickly he is crazy, and not a cool kind of crazy, like needs mental help crazy.

- Dane (D) got a girlfriend (rude) even though he never made me finish in bed, I was just obsessed with the kind of person he is. I was pulling up to get gas on my motorcycle and realized the truck I was waiting behind looked pretty familiar, then he walked out of the mini mart and he didn’t realize it was me but I said “you’re taking your sweet ass time” and then I took my helmet off, he gave me a little side hug and said he had a girlfriend but asked me how I’ve been. I respect him for being loyal. I was so nervous for some reason. I told him I’m not a teenager anymore and he said “not as hot anymore” jokingly and I knocked his hat off. He told me to ride safe :)

- Two weeks ago I saw Jordan (J) while I was on a date! We’ve kept in touch even throughout my last relationship, in a friendly but always flirty manner. He moved out of state though, just comes to visit every now and then. I recognized the hat he was wearing and took a picture and sent to him, not realizing it was him at first. He didn’t see me though, apparently he was pretty drunk. Whenever he’s in town we make loose plans to see each other and it never works out.. maybe it’s just not meant to.

- My ex boyfriend asked me out on a date, like did he forget that we broke up a year ago?? It was so casual too.. he’s delusional.

- I fell in love for a minute, really thought it could work. Maybe timing was the issue. Though with the right person I feel it wouldn’t matter, but then again I feel that I need to be single at this time in my life.

- During the blue moon I went skinny dipping in the ocean and I slept with Denny, like literally just slept. We’ve done that far more times than we’ve had sex. Actually we’ve only done the deed once, and it wasn’t greattt. He almost feels like a brother to me, very comfortable and easy to spend time with. I enjoy his company and he’s attractive but for some reason the intimacy and romance is no where to be found. I saw him again a couple days ago too and we shared a couple closed mouth kisses. He also asked me about the boy I fell in love with for a minute since they met at a bonfire. Somehow he didn’t make it awkward. We fit so well together but it feels so juvenile despite him being 8 years older. I also don’t like his drug habit.

- I’ve been seeing a Scott on and off. He’s in his 30s and pretty attractive. Not sure where it’s going, he travels a lot. We’ve only slept together once, wasn’t amazing but I think I’d like to give it another chance when he gets back. He also owns a plane and has promised me a ride ;)

- The most recent incident was tonight. I had hooked up with a firefighter in his 40s when I was 18, two years ago now. We sorta kept in touch, he would text me Merry Christmas haha. Well recently I had been thinking about him and how great the sex was so I reached out and we made plans, then he didn’t call or text the night of our plans so I blocked him because I don’t have time for that. It wasn’t the first time either. Didn’t even care to come up with an excuse. I understand being busy but I have to have some self respect at some point. So tonight, about a week after our plans, he shows up at my job! Was sooo taken aback. I turn the corner and there he is immediately going in for a hug. He said he sent me a picture and was wondering if I got it and I said “I’m sorry I lost your number” but damn I kind of want to unblock him. Too much self respect though. He can pine all he wants he lost his shot.

[cyarsk52-20]

Twitter Unleashes on Tom Sandoval for Shaming Ariana Madix Over Wearing a T-Shirt During Sex

Part three of the Vanderpump Rules finale aired last night, and it’s best described as oooof. Unsurprisingly, Tom Sandoval did not come off great throughout the episode—but he made a particularly diabolical comment while discussing his sex life with Ariana Madix that caused Twitter to absolutely lose it.

During a convo about whether or not Tom had slept with anyone else since starting his affair with Raquel Leviss, Ariana said, “Well, you know who he did sleep with after he and Raquel started sleeping together? Me.”

Instead of apologizing again—or just literally staying silent—Tom felt the need to sarcastically shoot back, “She kept her T-shirt on; it was really hot.”

This is obviously a horrible thing to say, and the VPRcast was shocked. By which I mean Lala Kent said, “You’re such a fucking dick,” James Kennedy added, “What the fuck, dude? You’re fucking disgusting,” and Tom Schwartz hung his head and said, “Don’t say that, dude. Don’t say that.”

Meanwhile, Twitter…also had a lot to say!

Andy Cohen honestly called how upset people were going to be about Tom’s comment ahead of the reunion, saying on Andy Cohen Live, “There is something that Tom Sandoval says tonight on the Vanderpump Rules reunion that is going to upset every woman in America.…It was an aside that he said, and when he said it, everyone in the room was like ….”

Welp, now seems like a good time for all of us to buy this T-shirt:

Fuck Me in This T-Shirt

Mehera Bonner is a celebrity and entertainment news writer who enjoys Bravo and Antiques Roadshow with equal enthusiasm, She was previously entertainment editor at Marie Claire and has covered pop culture for over a decade. 

Sent from my iPhone

[gumdecay]

.

[1987vampire]

Proxies x reader NSFW HCs

alot of these scenes will actually most likely end up in this story im writing lmao, so stick around if you want to see them fleshed out

Let's get the obvious beginner out of the way.

Toby is a tits man, Brian likes ass, and Tim is happy with whatever (he likes tits more he just doesn't want to be rude)

Now, let's start with Toby

Toby is the most submissive bottom you will meet in your life.

Has slipped a bit too far into subspace a few times, and you've had to stop immediately once you realized.

Motherfucker just wants to be dommed and dommed hard. Just tell him what to do, please.

Has the biggest fucking mommy kink (which contributes to his love for tits because the motherfucker will lavish those bitches like no other when given the chance)

Also has the biggest praise kink you will ever see. Has came embarrassingly fast because you called him your good boy.

99 percent of his knowledge of sex comes from porn so,, he's going to have to be retaught most everything.

Has definitely groped your tit too hard on multiple occasions because he thought it was the right thing to do.

Surprisingly good learner, though. Just wants to make you happy.

He's the best one for quickies out of all of them only because he cums extremely fast while still prioritizing you.

(He makes up for how fast he cums by how many times he can do it. Motherfucker will paint you white all over before his body gives out. Plus, his CIPA makes it to where he can't feel the burning in his legs as he fucks you for hours. Has literally kept going until his body gave out because you wanted him to.)

All the boys have very specific thoughts on oral. Toby will give or receive, whichever makes you happier, but when he's allowed to go down on you, it's like you're his last meal.

It's one of the only time's he'll disobey your commands because it doesn't matter if you've already came three times??? He's still eating, lady, shhh.

Tried to dom one (1) time. Not doing that again. Dude started crying half-way through because he thought he was hurting you and your feelings by ordering you around.

You had to pause and take a bath with him afterwards while he calmed down. He spent half the bath blubbering into your neck and apologizing more times than you could count.

Now, Brian is the exact opposite of Toby.

You asked to try and let him be the bottom a single time and he fucked you so hard you couldn't walk the next day.

A little shithead who loves blowjobs. Will give you head, but much prefers you on your knees with him stuffed so far in that he’s tapping the back of your throat and you’re gripping his thighs while he uses you for nothing more than his pleasure in the moment. 

Will mix degradation in with praise like he's been doing it his entire life. Has given you whiplash multiple times because of it.

He's so loud, too. Toby is whiny and begs, but this dude is in your ear with low grunts and groans, his voice spilling the foulest words he can think of.

Has you seeing stars while mumbling into your neck shit like "your pretty little pussy's taking me so well - like you were built to be my cocksleeve. Just a cumslut who takes whatever I give you. Look at you, all fucked out of your mind, pretty little baby. Can't wait to paint your fuckin' insides. It's what whores like you deserve."

He's also the best at aftercare, though. You normally have to take care of Toby after, and Tim does jack shit unless needed.

Brian, though, has his dresser packed with shit to take care of you with after. Will bathe you, dress you, tell you little reassurances, make sure you're okay.

He's also best at knowing when to stop. He can sense your hesitation as if he's the one feeling it.

Because of his dirty mouth, he's had to break off sessions early a few times. The biggest was when you started crying halfway through him fucking you missionary, and not the kind of crying he liked (because let's be real, this motherfucker loves to see you cry and beg to cum.)

He had called you a whore a few too many times through the session, and you had taken it a bit too close to heart (it was something that hit a bit harder than needed since you were dating multiple men at once.)

He spent the whole night cuddling you and reassuring you that he didn't really mean it. He loved you, they all did, it was just for the roleplay. "Stop crying, pretty baby, we're okay. I'm not actually mad. Let me see a smile, c'mon, doll."

Also, let me mention that because y'all are so fucking loud, Tim has banged on the door quite a few times trying to get you to calm down.

Tim made the mistake of grumbling to himself during dinner one time in front of you and Brian that 'you're so fucking loud it sounds like you're recording a goddamn porno in there.'

If you hadn't been choking on your food so hard, you might have noticed the sly grin that crossed Brian's face, though it was brought back later when he ended up filming you quite a few times from that night. It wouldn't be posted anywhere - fuck that, you were theirs, and no one else's.

(he did accidentally share a video of you cumming to the group chat all four of you were in on accident while sending cute pictures of the two of you. The mortification of hearing your moans come through the speaker of Toby's phone while he stared at it dumbfounded was enough for you to not talk to Brian for a whole week. It didn't matter if they had seen you like that before, it was still embarrassing!)

(Brian didn't tell you that the other two - Tim especially - had been sent worse videos than that.)

SPEAKING OF TIM.

Let's get started with this man. Tim is the laziest motherfucker known to man but it is nice. 

Really, he’s not lazy, he’s just tired a lot, and he doesn’t want to put the effort in the fuck you senseless when you’ve got two others for that. 

He prefers sleepy fucking where you’re both half-out-of-it and breathless. He enjoys both of you on your sides with him spooning you, his hips moving just enough to give enough friction for the both of you to cum after a while. You can and will fall alseep right after with him still buried inside of you.

Speaking of, what’s the best way to get y’all’s sexual tension out while still being lazy (besides just making you ride him which he does very often) ? Cockwarming. 

He won’t even just do it in bed when it’s the two of you. He’s shimmied his pants down just enough for his cock to slip out and pushed your panties aside (since you were only wearing an oversized shirt and underwear. I mean, what did you think would happen?) and made you sit on him in the middle of the living room while the other two were lounging around, too distracted to notice. 

However, if someone does notice (Especially in the beginning because you were horrible at hiding your flushed cheeks and heavy breathing from understimulation) he would not hide it.

“H-hey, y/-y/n, what’s-sss-s with the f-fa-face?” Toby had asked innocently one night while you were all watching TV together. You knew Tim was smirking behind you as he lifted the hem of the big shirt just enough to let Toby know what was going on. Boy blushed so hard and covered his eyes, smacking his face harshly in the process, and Tim and Brian snickered (because of course Brian already knew.)

Cockwarming also means that the second you finally - finally - start fucking, it’s over for the two of you in less than a minute, your fingers clawing at him as you finally get your release after hours. (the longest he’s made the two of you wait was four hours because we’re watching Toby’s favorite movies, we can’t interrupt him, now can we, darlin’?’

He’s also a huge fan of facesitting. Not the biggest fan of receiving blowjobs only because it makes him feel too vulnerable, but he could have you sit on his face for hours and not complain, his hands gripping your ass tight enough to leave bruises as he laved his tongue over your clit over and over. 

The only - only - times Tim has fucked you rough was when it wasn’t even really him. You had been half-asleep with your back to him one time as he rutted into you slowly when you suddenly felt yourself flipped so you were ass up with your face being pushed into the mattress, his hips jutting at a speed you didn’t know he could reach.

You didn’t even have to look back to know that Masky - his alter that didn’t show himself too often around you - had taken over. 

During getting fucked that time by Masky, you ended up so deep in subspace, trying to please the man you didn’t get too see that often that you let him him rip orgasm after orgasm from you until you couldn’t think straight and you entered a space where all you felt was pleasure, and you couldn’t even see straight.

You were brought out of it by Tim pressing a cold rag to your forehead, whispering sweet nothings to you as he tried to get you to come to, apologizing profusely for letting it happen. You had just grinned and - though your voice was thoroughly fucked up from screaming - told him to let Masky know he could do that again any time. Tim had gotten so flustered that he walked out of the room for a few minutes. 

Speaking of alters real quick.

Tim and Brian are the only ones to have them - Masky and Hoody respectfully, of course - and they come out around you very little. Hoody comes out more than Masky though, and you can tell the difference in how quiet Brian will get. 

Hoody and Masky have fucked you both separately and together (so have Tim and Brian but we’ll get to that in a second)

Masky loves you ass and prefers to have you in doggystyle over anything while Brian’s love for blowjobs is only intensified in his alter who will have you gagging on him until you almost pass out. He’ll give you a moment to breathe in just a second, just hold on a little longer, okay?

Hoody is almost always silent besides grunts that let him communicate with Masky. This is apparent even when you’re not fucking, and the three of you have to teach yourselves how to decipher the man’s made up language. 

Masky is quiet too, but will grumble to himself more than anything, calling you the worst name’s he can think of while he slams into you so hard that you don’t even have to move yourself to give Hoody a proper blowjob, his grip on your hips and force of his thrusts are enough to have you bouncing back and forth quickly. 

It’s not like you could really move anyways, not when Masky’s picking you up by your thighs and holding your hips up as he plows into you.

They love spitroasting but have definitely done double penetration even if you complain that you’re not prepped. Who cares? You’re obviously ready for it, look at you already cumming even though they haven’t moved. 

Now, as for threesomes and or foursomes

Nine times out of ten, Toby is too embarrassed to do anything in front of the other two. Maybe if you coax him enough, reassure him that nobody will judge, he might join in for the night, but it’s an incredibly rare occurrence. Watching Brian boss you around is enough to make him squirm. You were supposed to be in change, not him? But there you were with your tongue sticking out as you rolled your hips against Tim, ready to fit either of them in your mouth. The other can always take another hole. 

Toby not wanting to join doesn’t really both the other two though, and though it’s still not as common to have a threesome compared to one on one, Tim and Brian are always ready to share. Especially when you look so pretty whining into the air as you take both of them at once. 

You don’t mind if Brian takes a few photos, right? I mean, just look at you! This is a perfect moment to capture. Ignore the fact that you’re now Tim’s home screen, your pretty tits out in the open as his cock is buried inside of you, Brian’s hand gripping the flesh of your hip. Why wouldn’t he want to see it all the time?

The same applies to them as their alters. Spitroasting is their absolute favorite, though Tim prefers it if you ride him while you slobber all over Brian instead of him having to use his energy to fuck you into oblivion. 

They love double penetration as well, but once they tried to fit both of them in your pussy instead of one in your ass and you came so hard that you passed out. It’s brought out on special occasions after a l o t of prep.

really, overall. you have a boy for whatever mood you're in and you're literally never horny because the second you mention it someone is on top of you.

[babyboibucky]

The Match - Part 3

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky’s becoming extra horny around you in the office.

Word Count: 2,697

Warnings: still smut, boss x employee affair, unprotected sex everywhere, hints at misogyny???

A/N: And a mini series was born 😂 no but honestly, I didn’t expect for parts 1 and 2 of The Match to receive such amazing feedback 😭 I really enjoy reading everyone’s reaction to this series and trust me, all comments keep giving me ideas. Thank you all so much!!!!!!! 😘😘😘 and btw, this part isn’t their promotion “celebration” because that will have a chapter on its own. Long story short, that will be pure porn with no plot at all so stay tuned for that 😂

The Match Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST

It’s been a rollercoaster ride since you matched with James— Bucky, on Tinder. Maybe not a literal rollercoaster ride but with how Bucky had you bouncing on his cock as he sat on the couch, or that one time he asked you to sit on his face inside his car, it was a ride nonetheless and an exhilarating one at that.

Despite your relationship with him, the both of you surprisingly managed to keep things professional when there was work involved. Of course there were times when quickies in the office took place, given that Bucky was fucking insatiable (let’s all admit it, so were you). Work was work and you excelled at being the head of your department, but once office hours are over, you excelled more at giving Bucky head.

Oftentimes you found yourself worrying about getting caught. You’ve always been careful but lately, Bucky seemed to be slipping up. He just couldn’t seem to get his hands off of you and he was becoming more and more obvious. You were pretty good at being discreet but sometimes, it was hard not to react to Bucky when he would look at you with a naughty glint in his eyes, a smug smirk tugging at his lips as he watched you present. He’d tilt his head sometimes as he looked at you, lifting a brow as he smirked whenever he was impressed.

You ended up stuttering when he gave you that look one time. It was proud and it made your chest swell and your pussy throb. He rewarded you that night in his office by making you cum on his face twice.

That look was going to be the death of you and he was giving it to you now as you entered the conference room for the monthly mancom meeting. Bucky eyed you as you went around the desk, lifting a brow and pulling the empty chair next to him, commanding you to sit beside him without having to say a word.

You cleared your throat and pulled the chair, noticing how Bucky eyed your ass before you sat down.

“Is everyone here?” He asked after ogling your backside for a good five seconds.

All the department heads affirmed their attendance and soon enough, the meeting began with the HR manager reporting first. Lights were shut off and as soon as the report was projected onto the wall, Bucky began his little game. You were paying attention to the slides being presented until you felt Bucky’s foot nudge your ankle, hooking around it to slightly open up your legs.

You side-eyed him and subtly shook your head. He had never done this in public, at least, not during meetings. So you weren’t sure why he was being so frisky now, placing a hand on your thigh. You grabbed his hand and moved it away gently before slightly moving your seat away from Bucky, crossing your legs in the process.

“What do you think Mister Barnes?” The HR manager asked.

All heads turned towards Bucky, who obviously wasn’t paying attention provided that his hand was trying to sneak back onto your thigh. He cleared his throat and straightened up on his seat, fixing his tie before pursing his lips.

“I’m sorry, can you please repeat that?” He asked and you fought the urge to snort.

“I was wondering if we can hold another seminar about workplace etiquette.” She said.

Bucky hummed, “Do we have problematic employees?” He asked curiously.

The HR manager sighed, a blush creeping up to her face. “There have been rumors going around the office about employees engaging in...lewd acts within the workplace. I thought that we should revisit the topic about workplace code of ethics.” She explained.

You ended up in a coughing fit, quickly apologizing and reasoning out that you were having allergies today. Bucky tensed in his seat but managed to remain calm. He stole a quick glance at you before turning back to the HR manager.

“And have we identified these employees?” He asked, rubbing a hand on his chin. A nervous habit of his, you noticed.

This was what you have been worrying about! Bucky has been fucking you around the office and now everyone was catching on to it. And although you wanted to blame Bucky for this, you knew you were just as much to blame. Damn you and your hormones!

The HR manager shook her head, much to your and Bucky’s relief. “No sir, but some employees have been noticing and hearing things, especially after office hours. Janet for instance, filed a report last week about hearing hushed whispers from the pantry, followed by the creaking sound of the table. The following day, shards of someone’s mug were found in the trash. There was an assumption that there might be employees behaving inappropriately.”

“Oh my god, I’m close. Bucky I’m—“

Bucky’s hand clamped around your mouth as he shushed you, hearing footsteps approach the pantry. You stilled as you nervously watched shadows move beneath the door, but of course, this didn’t stop Bucky from snapping his hips against yours.

His thrusts were slow and languid, but he slammed back in with such force that made the pantry table scratch against the floor. Once the footsteps faded, Bucky wasted no time to get back to fucking you. He lifted your legs up and rested the back of your ankles against his shoulders, slightly bending down over you so he can angle his cock to perfectly hit that one sweet spot.

A single, powerful thrust sent you reeling, your hands finding purchase on the sides of the table.

“Cum, baby. Cum.” Bucky growled.

Another thrust made you gasp out loud, feeling the head of Bucky’s cock nudge against your cervix. One hand reached for his bicep, your nails digging into his dress shirt while the other reached back for the edge of the table only to knock off the mug resting on top.

You made a face when you heard it crash against the floor. The mug was soon forgotten when Bucky leaned down to kiss you, his tongue sliding into your mouth as his hand reached down to rub your clit.

You wiped the sweat on your forehead upon remembering that incident. Fucking Janet just had to file a report. It was after office hours, for fuck’s sake! Who cares what employees do after their shift?!

“I see.” Bucky responded, fixing his suit. “Okay. I approve of the seminar. Who’s next?” He asked, quickly changing the topic as if it was no big deal.

The head of the Finance department began with his presentation and just like that, Bucky returned his hand on top of your thigh, prying your legs open. You turned to him with a look of disbelief on your face. He was acting as if there wasn’t any close call earlier. You couldn’t believe this man, sure he was hot as hell, but you weren’t giving in to him. Not today, not when the both of you were almost caught.

The entire mancom meeting was pretty eventful, with Bucky teasing your legs with his hand despite your half-hearted protests. You hated how Bucky was able to familiarize himself with your body and how it reacted to him. Your eyes might be saying no but with how your legs eventually spread on their own, Bucky knew you were desperate for him too.

-

It was an hour past your shift when you received an e-mail from Bucky with the subject being “Report”. Thinking it was one his follow-up e-mails (Bucky is an impatient man when it comes to the submission of reports and you weren’t an exception) you opened it immediately and choked on your spit when a photo of his dick showed up on your desktop. You started clicking around in an attempt to close his e-mail, but instead of hitting the “x” button, you ended up maximizing the window instead.

“Jesus fucking christ!” You cursed and covered your monitor with your hands as you frantically looked around the office.

It was like a fucking jump scare, like one of those computer pranks asking you to concentrate on a dot before a scary photo would pop out. Except that it was Bucky’s dick that appeared. A dick scare.

Fortunately, you were the only one left in your area since pretty much everyone else scrambled out of the office as soon as work hours were over. It was a Friday after all.

You sighed in relief and quickly scrolled down to see the message beneath the photo of Bucky’s dick.

Need you in my office in ten.

P.S. Bring the report I asked from you the other day.

Best,

Bucky Barnes

Who sends an unsolicited dick pic through e-mail followed by a work reminder? And the signature? It was the cherry on top. Bucky Barnes was something else. Sweet jesus, you really couldn’t believe this man.

Grabbing your report, you marched your way to the elevator and headed up to Bucky’s office. Seeing that his floor was empty, you didn’t even bother knocking on his door and simply barged in.

“I can’t belie— what the fuck?” You called out when you were welcomed with the sight of Bucky leaning back on his chair, his cock out for the world to see as he gently stroked it.

“Need your pretty mouth around my cock, baby.” Bucky cooed with half-lidded eyes.

You huffed out a humorless laugh and shook your head, “I’m not sucking your cock, Bucky.” You refused and walked over to his table, slamming your report on top of it before walking away, but not before stealing another look at his majestic cock.

“Are you mad?” Bucky asked but he was smirking with amusement. He was giving you that look again but you were having none of it tonight.

You stood in front of his desk, keeping a safe distance away from him. Crossing your arms over your chest, you scowled at Bucky and tried your best not to let your eyes fall down to his cock again. Which by the way, he continued to stroke.

“For someone as smart as you, I can’t believe you’re so fucking dense.” You said with irritation when Bucky didn’t seem to understand why you were agitated.

He licked his lips, bucking up his hips when he squeezed the base of his cock. Bucky let out a delicious grunt as he continued to stroke himself. As much as you were salivating at the sight of Bucky’s cock— tip red and swollen, begging to be sucked— you didn’t want to give in.

“You’re fucking priceless, James.” You said, exasperated and turned around, heading towards the door.

You were about to reach onto the door knob when you heard the sound of a zipper followed by the wheels of Bucky’s chair screeching against the floor before a pair of hands grabbed at your waist. Turning you around, you were met with Bucky’s worried face.

“Shit, you’re really mad. Talk to me?” He pleaded, eyes apologetic as he took a step back, urging you to speak up.

“You might want to take a seat because I’ve got quite a list.” You said.

Bucky obeyed and returned to his chair immediately, sitting upright as he looked at you with doe eyes. If you weren’t so mad, you would’ve melted at the sight of him like that. And the Bucky Barnes? The CEO? Obeying you like a good little boy? Huh, what an interesting concept. You mentally took note of a certain kink that you might enjoy. But for now, you were mad at him and you were going to make him understand why.

“Number one, I don’t particularly enjoy it when you tease me in front of everyone else. We talked about staying professional when there’s work involved and what you did during the mancom was definitely not professional.” You told him.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t hold back not when your ass looked so fuckin’ tight in that skirt of yours. Can you blame me?” Bucky almost whined.

“Keep it in your pants, Barnes. I’m not yet done.” You reminded him and went over your second point.

“Number two, we almost got caught to the point of the HR deciding to hold a seminar on workplace ethics! Do you know how awkward it would be for me to sit there and listen to scenarios about office misconduct? Most of which we’ve probably done. I’d sweat like a whore in church!” You hissed.

Which scenarios could that be? Fucking inside the janitor’s supply closet? Check. Doing the nasty in one of the bathroom cubicles? Check that twice. Giving a blowjob beside the fax machine during lunch break? Triple check that shit.

“And oh, you sent me a dick pic using your work e-mail! You do know that the IT can access our computers right? Almost gave me a heart attack when it flashed on my monitor.” You asked in a huff.

Bucky snickered, “Are you forgetting that I’m the CEO? Baby, I can easily clean up our mess.” He reassured and stood up, approaching you.

You shook your head, “That’s exactly the point, Bucky. You are the CEO and I’m an employee. You may not understand it but I’m scared. If we get caught, it’s over for me. Whether you have it cleaned up or not, I’d still be the one at risk here. You’ll never be in the same position as I am. People won’t call you names if we get caught. No matter what happens, I’d always get the short end of the stick.”

You didn’t mean to be all serious, talking about the possible misogynistic outcome of your relationship with Bucky. As much as you enjoyed it, it still scared the living daylights out of you. Some were already spreading rumors about your promotion, getting caught would only add fuel to the fire.

Bucky sighed and nodded, “I’m sorry. I didn’t try to understand where you were coming from.” He genuinely apologized.

“If it scares you that much, then let’s make it official.”

You deadpanned at him, “Make what official, Bucky?” You asked, eyebrow raised in curiosity.

Bucky shrugged and motioned his hand between the both of you, “This...us.” He simply said.

You scoffed, “Tell the entire office that we’re fucking every chance we get? Are you out of your mind?”

Bucky ran a hand through his cropped hair, “Not like that. Look, we’ve been at it for what? Two? Three months now? We might as well make this into an official relationship.”

You blushed at Bucky’s suggestion. Sure, you practically jumped at the opportunity to fuck your boss when he asked you. But were you an easy bitch in general? Of course not, even with how thirsty you were for him, you still had a little bit of appreciation for the old-fashioned ways.

Pushing Bucky’s chest away, you shook your head at him. “That’s now how relationships work, Bucky. You can’t fuck your way into my heart.”

Bucky laughed and bit his lip, “Fine. Then I’ll do it properly.” He said so easily you were starting to wonder whether he was fucking with you.

You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously, “I don’t believe you.” You said.

“You will, baby. I’ll make sure of that. We’ll do it old-school.” He said, caressing your cheek.

You were caught off guard but you didn’t want to get your hopes up. Bucky had been an amazing lover and in the past months you’ve fucked, he treated you with respect and took good care of you. He brought you dinner, drove you home and texted you good night. Sometimes he’d text you during the weekends too.

“Old-school it is then.” You shrugged as if it was no big deal but oh, it was a big deal.

Bucky nodded with a grin, “Okay. But...” he trailed, his smile turning upside down in deep thought.

“Does that mean we’d stop fucking each other for the mean time?” He asked.

You snickered, “I said you can’t fuck your way into my heart, not my pussy. So sit down and let me suck your cock.”

-

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[deripmaver]

laurent is a good person - book 1 meta

one of the most amazing things about captive prince is how the reveals in book 3 recontextualize all of the scenes leading up to them, including about laurent himself. in book one, all we see is damen pov as he’s being abused and humiliated by this supposedly spoiled, vile ice prince. when the regent comes to damen and subtly (and not so subtly) insults laurent, calling him unfit to rule - well, why would he think anything different? laurent has insulted him, had him whipped within an inch of his life, and even attempted to (and later successfully lmfao) have him raped while drugged out of his mind. 

after book 3 we can reread most if not all of book 1 as a very traumatized boy who has finally been confronted with the man who killed his brother, leaving him alone with his abusive uncle, and who he clearly has made into a complete monster in his own mind. damen of course sees him as a complete bitch, but there’s textual/subtextual evidence that laurent is well liked, and that his behavior during book 1 was actually pretty out of character for him. i’d like to provide some examples of that now!!!!

“Laurent had stopped dead the moment he had seen Damen, his face turning white as though in reaction to a slap, or an insult. Damen’s view, half-truncated by the short chain at this neck, had been enough to see that. But Laurent’s expression had shuttered quickly.” Captive Prince, Chapter One

i couldn’t resist adding this one in hehe. laurent recognizes damen!! he’s come down, knowing his uncle has devised another truly horrendous and triggering “gift” and that he’ll lose support if he calls it our for what it truly is, only to find out that it’s fucking damianos of akielos sent to him as a sex slave. a jab at laurent’s trauma about auguste and also a jab at laurent’s frigid sexuality - which ofc is completely the regent’s fault. fuck that guy so much lmfao 

“‘It’s so rare to see you at these entertainments, Your Highness,’ said Vannes.” Captive Prince, Chapter Two.

this is right before the fight between govart and damen in the ring, of course. damen sees laurent as depraved and vile as the sexual sadism on display by the veretian court, and considers him to be a willing purveyor of it. this is wrong, of course, as said by vannes here. laurent has only shown up because he wants to humiliate damen lmfao.

“He did remember being supported by two of the guards, here, in this room, while Radel stared athis back in horror. ‘The Prince really . . . did this.’ ‘Who else?’ Damen said. Radel had stepped forward, and slapped Damen across the face; it was a hard slap, and the man wore three rings on each finger. ‘What did you do to him?’ Radel demanded.” Captive Prince, Chapter Four

this scene, to me, was the most telling lmfao. it’s right after damen is whipped. you could argue that radel is just a servant in the employ of the royal household, so is of course going to be loyal to the prince, but he seems genuinely surprised of the prince’s cruelty towards damen. not only that, but he slaps him and immediately assumes damen must have done something. which - i mean, technically he did lmao. not necessarily enough to deserve having the skin flayed from his back, but you know. if laurent was in the habit of torturing pets and slaves, why would the overseer react this way?

“The men guarding him were the Prince’s Guard, and had no affiliation with the Regent whatsoever. It surprised Damen how loyal they were to their Prince, and how diligent in his service, airing none of the grudges and complaints that he might have expected, considering Laurent’s noxious personality. Laurent’s feud with his uncle they took up wholeheartedly; there were deep schisms and rivalries between the Prince’s Guard and the Regent’s Guard, apparently.” Captive Prince, Chapter Four

laurents relationships with his guards are also some of the biggest indicators that he isn’t just a spoiled brat, but can insire a deep loyalty in his men. even if they do all want to fuck him. ah, sexual harassment. it’s also hilarious that damen immediately assumes they’re loyal to him because they want to fuck him - nice projection there, dude. we know a bit more about laurent and his guards thanks to green but for a season, but this little bit here is interesting.

“Laurent was indeed good at talking. He accepted sympathy gracefully. He put his position rationally. He stopped the flow of talk when it became dangerously critical of his uncle. He said nothing that could be taken as an open slight on the Regency. Yet no one who talked to him could have any doubt that his uncle was behaving at best misguidedly and at worst treasonously.”  Captive Prince, Chapter Five

idek what to say here. laurent my beloved <3333

“‘When someone doesn’t like you very much, it isn’t a good idea to let them know that you care about something,’ said Laurent. Damen felt himself turn ashen, as the threat sank in. ‘Would it hurt worse than a lashing for me to cut down someone you care for?’ said Laurent.” Captive Prince, Chapter Seven

this isn’t really relevant to my thesis lmfao i just love this exchange bc it gives SO MUCH information about laurent and his uncle in just three lines of dialogue. what has the regent done, who did he cut down just to hurt laurent? when and how did laurent learn that? p a i n 

“Laurent’s fussy horse began acting out again, and he leaned forward in the saddle, murmuring something as he stroked her neck in an uncharacteristically gentle gesture to quiet her.” Captive Prince, Chapter Nine. 

HORSEY NO- lmfao this scene just hurts so badly on the reread. especially later on, in book 3 i think, where laurent says something like “i provoked my uncle.” he’s really blaming himself for his uncle KILLING HIS HORSE, his horse that his murdered brother trained, one of the only living connections to auguste... all because his uncle could not let a single miniscule plan laurent had set go through without some kind of repercussion. literally all laurent did was do something to stop an innocent group of people from being abused, nothing to undermine his uncle’s rule, but because the regent is VILE he could not let laurent have even this. he’s so good with her, too. he must have known by this point and also known that there was no way to stop this. P A I N

“‘I know that you have somehow arranged this,’ said Erasmus. He was incapable of hiding what he felt, and just seemed to radiate embarrassed happiness. ‘You kept your promise. You and your master. I told you he was kind,’ Erasmus said. ‘You did,’ said Damen. He was pleased to see Erasmus happy. Whatever Erasmus believed about Laurent, Damen wasn’t going to dissuade him. ‘He’s even nicer in person. Did you know he came and talked to me?’ said Erasmus. ‘—He did?’ said Damen. It was something he couldn’t imagine. ‘He asked about . . . what happened in the gardens. Then he warned me. About last night.’ ‘He warned you,’ said Damen. ‘He said that Nicaise would make me perform before the court and it would be awful, but that if I was brave, something good might come at the end of it.’ Erasmus looked up at Damen curiously. ‘Why do you look surprised?’ ‘I don’t know. I shouldn’t be. He likes to plan things in advance,’ said Damen.” Captive Prince, Chapter 9.

this is the first in-text confirmation we have that laurent has a good heart beneath his layers and layers of trauma-induced lashing out. book one often skeeves people out because of its graphic and, honestly, yes, kind of sexualized depiction of rape, slavery, and depravity, but beneath it all you meet these two protagonists who are going to have all of their most deeply held views about each other challenged. laurent from very early on is shaken to his core when damen refuses to rape nicaise in the ring - it cracks the very foundations of the person he’d built up in his head as this horrible monster who killed his brother in cold blood. and damen keeps defying laurents expectations by being a good person through and through. on the other hand, laurent spends the first part of the book taking out years of anger on damen, but here for the first time we see him do something just because its the kind thing to do. yes, torveld is an ally against his uncle, but laurent has clearly been scheming with him for a while now, and he’s now overlooking his hatred of damen and working with him just because none of the slaves deserve whats happened to them. it’s such a sweet moment.

“One of the other men, eyeing them, approached a moment later. ‘Don’t mind Jean. He’s in a foul mood. He was the one had to stick a sword through the mare’s throat and put her down. The Prince tore strips off him for not doing it fast enough.’” Captive Prince, Chapter Nine.

HORSEY NO- pt 2. this is just another really sweet and sad detail - laurent being so upset that the horse’s death could have been more painless. it must have hurt so much to see her in pain, and to know that the only way for that pain to end was being put down as quickly as possible. i wuv him. im sad

that’s it, though there are still a few more chapters left in the book. this isn’t providing any new information, of course, the path of the three books is to show that laurent isnt the man we meet in book one, that he’s actually sweet, and earnest, and he’s been fighting his own battle practically alone against his abuser since he was fifteen years old. also, the reveal that laurent knew who damianos was from the start makes it clear imo that all of his violence in book 1 was supposed vengence, not... him being evil. he apologizes explicitly in-text, and also, all of the acts of violence he commits cause serious problems for him in terms of his future alliance which he then needs to fix. i just love how layered these books are, how there’s so much information in them that makes rereading almost more fun than reading them for the very first time!

[elysianslove]

secrets that you keep; iwaizumi hajime 

synopsis; in which his best friend is secretly a camgirl. part 1, part 2 

pairings; iwaizumi hajime x fem!reader

genre; smut

trigger warnings; i highly recommend reading the first two parts before this. they’re only drabbles that introduce everything! anyways, this is absolute filth. don’t read this if any of the stuff mentioned could trigger you, please! masturbation, camgirl stuff, one mention of the word ‘daddy,’ self choking, degradation, humiliation, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, creampie, a lot of choking, accidental breathplay, not proofread unfortunately 

she knows. 

does she? 

it’s an ongoing inner battle he’s been having for weeks now, ever since he’d been directed to that trending video of yours. he sees you in his dreams, hears you loud and clear, moaning and crying for him, and worst of all, he feels you, so perfectly, against his, around him, and it’s overwhelming in the worst way possible. even maintaining eye contact is tiresome at this point. 

but he does wonder whether you know or not, more often than he should— were you deliberately calling out for him, in hopes that he’d find this video somehow? or had you said it because you’d assumed this is your safe place, that there’s no way he’d be able to find these videos? had it been a slip up? or, more accurately, multiple slip ups? what were the chances anyways, that it had been an accident, or unintentional, or intentional and he had been losing sleep over it, or that he wasn’t the hajime you were crying out for? 

his heard hurt. awfully. there’s already the constant worry of regulating his breathing around you and cleansing his thoughts of anything he’d seen of you the moment you meet, but this added dilemma is in no way helping. every day that you text him for a coffee date, or a night out after a rather stressful week, or a night in at your apartment, and he agrees, his mind diverts immediately to where it shouldn’t as soon as he lays eyes on you. and the worst part of it all is how aware he is of how wrong this is. he knows it’s wrong to choose the revealing shirt over the other when you ask him for his opinion, just because he wants that effortless glance at your cleavage. it’s also so wrong of him to give a higher rating to that obscenely short dress than that other, knee length one because of the way your thighs squeeze when you sit. it’s definitely wrong of him to offer clasping your anklet, the one he’d gotten for you, the one that had been the dead giveaway to your secret online persona, just because your legs feel so soft against the rough pads of his fingers, when he resists the urge to trail upwards, upwards, upwards—

it’s fucking ridiculous. 

he can’t believe just how deep of a rabbit hole finding one of your videos is, how it’s impossible to climb out and away, and even worse, how he keeps falling deeper. the one time he decides to jerk off to porn. it’s really ridiculous. 

about a week ago, three weeks after finding that video of yours someone had uploaded— which had been taken down because of copyright, and hajime personally thinks that’s fair, considering there’s a reason you pay people to watch your videos and look through your photos, otherwise you would’ve taken the liberty to post everything for free yourself— hajime gives in, and subscribes to you. it’s with a randomized account name, something he tried his very best to make as anonymous as possible, so that it would in no way lead back to him. he doesn’t check in on your account as often, also having taken the time to turn off notifications and not have anything sent to his email, and it’s mostly out of shame. he already feels dirty enough having seen this much of you, even more that he’s fantasized about you. he’s not about to make it worse for himself.

every once in a while, though, especially days where he’s sure he’s completely free of responsibilities, he logs on, and finds your page. it just so happens that tonight, you’re hosting a live stream. swallowing his pride and shame, literally so, he shifts on his bed, sitting up straighter, and clicks to join. 

he’d been a little late apparently, because you’re already bare, sitting on a chair. your legs are lifted up, knees bent and hooked over the chair’s arms, the camera angled to show everything, from your cute eyes to the flesh of your ass. there’s a vibrator in your hand, buzzing lightly as it hovers by your clit, dipping between your folds, sliding back up again to rub lazily at your clit. beneath you, on the chair, is a small damp spot, leaking from your cunt. hajime stops himself before his jaw falls slack at the sight of you, and instead, he clears his throat, gritting his teeth and watching carefully. 

you’re not so talkative during your videos, just exclamations of pleasure and (the most beautiful of) noises, so he hadn’t expected you to be during your lives. to his surprise, you are, and it’s filthy. 

whimpering lightly, you press the vibrator harsher on your clit, your other hand traveling up to squeeze at your breast. “m’so needy,” you admit with a soft pout, adding, “want you to tell me what to do, mmh.”

he’s assuming the ‘you’ is the audience, whoever’s willing to speak up, and it’s then that he notices the chat option. his eyes flicker curiously to it, hands twitching where they sit fisted at his lap as he sees the chat explode with orders and commands and suggestions for you. 

one writes, stuff urself full, and hajime gapes. 

another commands, wanna see u cry tn, and hajime privately agrees. 

someone else writes, gonna squirt princess? 

hajime’s hands twitch again, and he frowns, digging his nails into his palms. you’re ignoring all the suggestions, and it’s obvious because you’re reading through them, mouthing some of them, giggling at some, curiously gasping, ‘oh,’ at others, eyebrow quirking. the vibrator trails down to your hole again, and you experimentally dip it inside slightly, shivering visibly as the vibrations rush through you, and the moment he hears you moan so loud, he thinks, fuck it, and his hands reach for his keyboard. 

choke yourself. 

fuck, fuck, fuck, he did not just do that. 

his heart is racing embarrassingly fast beneath his ribcage, loud and pathetically deafening in his ears as he watches your eyes read through the rest of the messages, and you’ve stopped mouthing them, your eyes are widening— which one are you at now? are you just going to ignore him? why wouldn’t you? of course you—

“you’d like that, huh?” you teasingly slur, a lazy, cheeky grin painting your lips, your teeth biting down on your lower lip and your hand— your hand— 

it’s trailing upwards, upwards, upwards, until it finds its way around your throat, resting lightly, and just as he sees your fingers squeeze at the sides of your neck slightly, carefully, you pout at the camera, looking straight at him, and asking, “like this, daddy?” 

a low fuck wheezes past his lungs, and his hand quickly presses down at the bulge in his sweatpants, squeezing and rubbing at his clothed dick as he watches you, entranced. people watching you with him have taken to thanking him for the idea, and to praising you, calling you a good girl, cursing, rapidly typing out something along the lines of you’re so hot i wanna fuck you so bad, and god, hajime hates that he relates to something as stupid as that. 

your hips roll and your head falls back, hand not once leaving your throat. if anything, your grip tightens. you click on the vibrator, and the buzzing becomes louder, your moans with it, as if you were competing. you cry and gasp and sob, writhing in your own hold, your thighs tensing and your hole clenching around nothing as you harshly rub the vibrator against your clit. your cunt gushes and drips as you bring yourself closer to your orgasm, as you cry out a string of, “m’gonna cum, so close, so close!” and a mixture of lewd curses, until finally, you cum. you’re sent over the edge, legs swinging on the chair, high pitched squeals falling from your lips— which hajime can’t decide are real or not, or whether he wants them to be or not. you thrash and cry, tears, as promised to some other watcher, dripping down your cheeks. 

the last straw however, is your comedown from your high, sobs hiccuping and muscles twitching, eyes half closed and body limp as you mewl out, “hajime, hajime, hajime,” like you’re not even aware you’re doing it. like it’s subconscious. 

hajime swears again, a deep, low, “fuck,” and looks down to find a damp spot on his lap. he really came from barely any friction, all because of you. this really is as ridiculous as it gets. 

the next time he sees you, there are the faintest of bruises on your neck. it’s not so obvious that just anyone would notice, but ever since becoming hyperaware of everything that is you and everything that you do, it’s hard not to have them be the first thing he sees. to ensure that the atmosphere between the two of you remains easy, he flicks at your neck and tuts with a smirk, asking you jokingly if you were in your hoe phase. 

“so vulgar, hajime,” you sarcastically retort, teasing him. “you like calling me mean things?” and he has to avert eye contact because all his walls crumble so quick. 

it’s just the two of you tonight, in his apartment, all your other mutual friends having cancelled at one point or another. it’s not an unusual occurrence; more often than not, the two of you are alone. however, it’s been a while since you’d been alone, privately. a while meaning ever since hajime had discovered your side hustle of a sort. he hadn’t been purposely avoiding this— no, maybe he has, but to be fair, he’s still yet to recover from the initial shock. 

it also doesn’t help that since today had meant to be a relaxing night in, you’re dressed casual, but in the hottest fucking way possible. he hopes he hadn’t been blushing as hard as he thinks, and feels, he was, when you’d first stepped into his home. on your hips is a short, black skirt, flowing out to your upper thighs, where just above your knees start a pair of dark thigh highs, squeezing at your thighs and accentuating your legs as you strut around his apartment, feet bare of any shoes or slippers. he can’t decide whether it’s cute or just plain hot. somehow, with you, it’s both. your shirt is off the shoulder, a dark, navy blue bardot, and beneath it, peeking out to rest at your collarbones, is a black bralette. he can barely just see the intricate lace designs, but it disappears and dips beneath your shirt before he can see more of it. 

you’re spread out on the couch, laying along it on your stomach, a pillow tucked in your arms and beneath your head, your clothed legs bent and swinging up in the air. he sits right by you, thigh right by your head, his body as tense as ever. it’s impossible not to be you, not with you in such close proximity to him when only a few days ago he’d watched you make yourself cum, and had heard you whimper out his name after. who can blame him, really?

with your eyes trained on the screen, he hadn’t been expecting you to speak up. 

“iwa, what type of porn do you watch?” 

he nearly chokes, eyes widening as he spares you a glance. your legs continue to swing innocently, your eyes unmoving, your voice unwavering. the suddenness of the question certainly threw him off, but it’s your nonchalance that really shocks him. but, considering everything, it really shouldn’t have. 

“uh, what?” he offers weakly, wincing slightly at the barely there crack in his voice. 

you sigh, shifting to sit up. you plant yourself on your knees, spreading them apart slightly to get comfortable, and shrugging at him. “i’m just curious,” you say. “or,” your eyes squint cautiously, your head cocking to the side slightly, “do you not watch porn?” 

challengingly, his arms lift up to cross at his chest, and he doesn’t miss the way your eyes momentarily glance at the way his biceps bulge. it makes his confidence spike slightly, nervousness ebbing away. “what type of porn do you watch?” 

you gasp dramatically, joking, “take a girl out to dinner first, my god.” he laughs, relaxing lightly at the banter, before his eyes fall back to you. you inch forward curiously, cautiously, still on your knees. now closer to him, you ask again, “seriously, i’m really curious! confirm my suspicions for me.” 

“oh?” he quirks an eyebrow. “so you think you know?” 

at this, you offer him a knowing smile, eyes slightly half lidded. you’re somehow even closer now, leaning towards him with your hands resting on the small space between you and him in the couch, helping you in lifting yourself up slightly on your knees as you say in a low voice, “baby, i think everyone knows.” 

at the sight of you by his side, he feels himself shiver, and an idea invades his mind before he can even process it. “oh, do you now?” he’s not sure where this boldness is emerging from, especially with how cautious and shameful he’d been and felt for weeks now, but he accepts it either way, because the way you’re staring at him like that, he never wants to let it go. and although he wants to drag out this intense eye contact even longer, in order to do what he wants to do, he has to break it, reaching for his phone instead. unable to contain your curiosity, you peak over, watching with confusion as he types out a link. 

the blood drains from your face when you recognize your page on his browser, and he’s logged on— he’s subscribed. 

“what type of porn do i like to watch?” he wonders rhetorically. the phone is pushed aside, and he sits up straighter so that even on your knees, he looms over you. his eyes are skimming over you, along your body, up to your neck, to your lips, to your shocked, wide eyes. and just as his hand trails up to your throat, his palm resting at the base and one finger tapping lightly, he says, “the type where my favorite girl cries out my name when she cums for the world to see.” 

the hand around your throat—

“you,” you breathe out, and finally, finally, when your brain makes sense of everything, your body relaxes, sags against him, leaning more into him until his hand’s properly wrapped around your throat. 

with your mind hazing over, you reach over, and kiss him. 

he meets you halfway, as if having expected it, lips pressing harshly against his. his hand tightens as he pulls you closer, lifting you up slightly and bringing you closer to him as his mouth parts, breathing you in, and kissing you deeper, lewder. you shiver and gasp, hands grasping at his wrist and forearm, not to push him away but rather to urge him closer, as you kiss him back just as eagerly. it seems like hours, with his hand around your neck, tight and a daunting reassurance, and your lips wet and hot against his, but eventually, his hand slides down, the other mirroring it, finding their way to your waist, squeezing and bunching at the skirt as he, with complete and utter and shocking ease, lifts you up off the couch. 

you gasp as he stands up with you, your legs quickly wrapping around his waist as he pulls you to him. as he blindly walks the two of you to his bedroom, he breathlessly asks in between your kisses, “is this— you sure this is okay?” 

with a sharp tug at his hair, you jokingly spit out, “iwa shut up.” 

he tosses you onto the bed, allowing you a minute to strip yourself of your shirt while he slips out of his own, before quickly falling above you, caging you in with his arms as he kisses you again. “not iwa,” he quietly asks of you. 

for a moment you’re confused, before everything clicks again— your slip ups— and your legs lift up, wrapping around his waist and pulling his hips closer to yours just as you mewl out, “hajime, please.” 

god, he is way easier than he thought he was. 

his entire body shudders above you, one hand lowering to push at your skirt to grind his hips down against yours until his clothed crotch meets your bare cunt and— holy fuck, holy fuck. 

“fuck, you slut.” 

you gasp at both his words and the feel of his bulge pressing down against your clit, his lips meeting your neck instead. “you do like calling me mean things,” you say, and he scoffs, his hand traveling upwards to squeeze at your breasts instead. 

“you like me calling you mean things,” he notes, and you let out a muffled moan as he pinches at your nipples through the bralette, lips biting and sucking at your neck. 

“i do,” you pant, arching up into him. “i do, i do.” his hands are fumbling at your chest, and god, they’re so large, so big and warm and harsh, it’s fogging up your brain. 

“yeah, yeah, fucking whore,” he growls, pushing himself slightly on his knees, hands tugging at the bralette. his fingers dip past, gripping the fabric tightly, and as he says, “can’t fucking— take this shit— off,” he tears through it, knuckles whitening as he pulls it away from your body, or what’s left of it. the frills of the ruined bra fall off the edge of his bed, and he watches your wide eyes and gaping mouth follow it, so he grabs at your jaw, twisting your gaze away from it and grunting a low, “shut up.” 

you pull away from the kiss, breathing heavily as you say, “that was so fucking hot, hajime,” before kissing him again. he parts his mouth as you lead him to you again, tongue easily meeting yours. 

it’s a messy kiss as he slips himself out of his sweatpants, taking his boxers with it and discarding them somewhere in his room. his cock slaps against his stomach, a single string of precum messily staining his tan abs. your eyes are quick to gaze down, lips painted a dazzling grin as his hand finds his cock, squeezing at the head and smearing his precum along. 

“knew you were fucking big,” you gasp, eyes trained on him as he strokes himself above you, and he is. he’s so big, thick and heavy, and veiny and your mouth waters at how that’s going to feel when inside of you, stretching you out so good, so much better than any of the toys you had at home. “i thought,” a squeal hiccups out of you as both of his hands grab at your hips from beneath your skirt, one sticky and warmer than the other, “about you all the time.” 

your confession draws his attention, and when he’s pulled you close enough, two of his fingers trail to your cunt, quirking an, “oh?” just as he dips his fingers inside. the lack of resistance he’s met with is surprising, and he chokes out, “did you stretch yourself out before coming here? fuck yourself on some fake cock?” 

tightlipped, you moan, brows furrowed and back arched into him. god, his fingers were not enough. “yes, yes,” you gasp, head falling back. despite not needing to, he still fingers you, his thick digits fucking into you slowly, driving you insane by the second. “yes, i— pretended t’was you,” you whine loudly. at your words, he curls his fingers inside of you, twisting his wrist and pressing his palm directly on your clit. 

“do you always?” he lowly asks, dipping closer to you as he fucks his fingers deeper. his fingers were inside of you, the cunt he’d spent over a month marveling at through a screen, the pretty pussy his dick had drooled over for hours. you’re real, as real as ever beneath him falling apart, making a mess of your black skirt, drenching it with your arousal. 

you moan out a hum, nodding dumbly as his fingers vibrate with the intensity of speed inside of you, your toes curling in your thigh highs and face twisting to press into his mattress. “always,” you cry out, like a promise. “always think of you— hajime!”

it’s an unexpected orgasm, hitting you so fast and quick that it’s outright dizzying. it has you lifting your hips up into his fingers and palm, grinding and trembling, your legs falling and spreading open, shaking wildly by your side and above you as he fucks you through the orgasm. 

“hajime, hajime, hajime,” you chant, words trailing off into tiny sobs and shuddering breaths as your hips slowly fall back onto the bed, body still trembling with aftershocks. 

you’re fucked out beyond words already that you genuinely don’t feel a thing until he’s pressing inside of you, the fat head of his cock stretching you out. he’s really no match for your toys, and if seeing him hadn’t been enough confirmation, the feel of him pressing inside of you definitely is. he doesn’t ease himself in slowly, urgently grabbing the back of your thighs with either hand, keeping your legs spread for him as he bottoms out. 

“fuck, fuck, knew you’d feel so good,” he grunts, brows furrowed harshly as he digs his fingers deeper against the flesh of your thighs, forcing your legs closer to your chest, and somehow pushing himself even deeper within you. you whine and mewl, toes curling and uncurling and legs trembling. “knew it the moment i saw your pretty pussy creamin’ around that thick cock.” 

at the reminder that he’s watched and witnessed you, multiple times, that he’s subscribed to you willingly and curiously, you clench down around him. you feel him twitch inside of you, groaning loudly as he falls closer to you, your legs falling to his waist. 

“you like knowing i was watching you?” he sneers, his hand reaching up and gripping at your face, squishing your cheeks and forcing a pout on your lips. your eyes nearly fucking cross as he rams into you, his fingers digging into your jaw. “you like that i fucked my fist every night to you? to your pretty cunt and your pretty noises and your pretty face— yes, good girl, that one.” 

your eyes do cross this time, spurred on by his words, your tongue peaking out through the small gap he allows with how harsh he’s gripping your face. he’s pushing out little mewls and cries from you, but otherwise, you quite honestly feel braindead. 

“fuck, you’re a gorgeous little slut,” he gasps. “all mine to fuck and use.”

you’re quick to nod rapidly, whining and moaning for him as you grip at his biceps. you’re choking on your breath as you struggle to keep up with him while he fucks you into the mattress, so fucking hard and rough that you’re sure there’ll be an indentation of you once you leave. you can feel your cunt gushing, and you can hear it too, squelching loudly with every thrust of his hips, every time his cock fucks into you. your skirt feels sticky and gross, and so does the rest of you, but you’ve never, never, felt this euphoric, this blissed out. 

your stomach tightens impossibly, the tension gradually increasing as your walls tightly squeeze and clench at his cock. slowly and surely, the pressure within you increases, your hands flying to hajime’s arm, the arm whose hand grips your face, which quickly moves to your throat at your simple gasping warning that you were close. 

“gonna cum, gonna cum, hajime, fuck!” 

he tightens his grip, pressing harsher on the sides of your neck as your eyes shut tightly, your head falling back once more. 

“yeah, come on, show me how pretty you look cumming on a real cock,” he whispers by your ear, using the hand that’s around your throat to lift up your head, before roughly pushing it back down, squeezing tighter. “you like it this rough?— shit, shit, you’re tightening.” 

you scream, voice cracking and broken as he slams into you again, his hips grinding against yours momentarily, pelvis hitting your clit— and you’re gone, thrashing in his hold, fat tears streaming down your cheeks as you sob and heave, your body shaking uncontrollably beneath him, hips shaking as your orgasm rocks through you. it’s not a few seconds later that he’s spilling inside of you, accidentally pressing his palm down against your throat as he cums, blocking your airway momentarily. 

“hngh,” he gasps deeply, cock twitching inside of you as he cums, hips barely grinding. you’re gasping, a little painfully, struggling to take in any air as he blinks dazedly, before he finally takes notice. “shit, shit, i’m sorry.” 

his hand flies away from your throat, and you inhale sharply, coughing lightly as air fills your lungs all too suddenly. the strength of this man, holy fuck. 

“i’m so sorry; are you okay?” 

chest still heaving, you fall onto the bed, body relaxing as you try and regulate your breathing. “s’okay, i’m okay,” you reassure him, hands reaching up to pat at his cheeks and comb through his messy, sweaty hair. 

he leans forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead, and it’s so endearing that you nearly forget he’s still inside of you. but you feel the shift of his cock, feel his cum slowly start to ooze out of your cunt, and he winces from the oversensitivity, shifting away to instead pull out of you. his soft cock falls from your cunt, a steady flow of his cum following. hajime has to physically resist from reaching out to fuck it back into you. 

“i’m sorry i wasn’t careful ‘nough with the—“ he makes a gesture with his hands around his neck, “—the choking.” 

you laugh lightly, tiredly, hands slowly caressing at his sweaty biceps. “stop apologizing,” you reassure him again, shrugging with a small smile as you add, “just be more careful next time.” 

his breath gets caught in his chest, and he only softly exhales when he falls on the bed, to your side, carefully repeating, “next time.” 

from beside him, you lift yourself up on your side on your elbow, palm cradling your head, trying your best not to wince in pain. “hajime?” 

he spares you a glance as he mumbles, “hm?” opting to stare at the ceiling and contemplate whether what had just happened was real life or not. 

“do you wanna do a video with me?” 

he all but chokes. 

end note; please this took me like 4+ hours. please please please don’t flop, and more importantly, i really hope i don’t disappoint. i know this has been a long awaited piece, so i’m praying and hoping you guys love it. 

love you all, mwah <3