#i wrote this all out in three hours
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making of a feathered thing
#sk8 the infinity#kyan reki#hasegawa langa#renga#tagging ship like a power word kill here#hi. linked there is a fic I wrote in uhhh. three hours? something like that#literally have no idea how to explain it to you at all. feel free to read if u wanna. mostly its like damn I keep puttings pictures into thi#s literary piece.#gonna cool down soon. oh boy is it hot here. probably why I wrote that#that took place in like november but the vibe is. summer. or something like that I really need to sleep#new ink arrived! its kinda watery! line still feathering! not into this!#I'll try to see if thats more my paper. dont enjoy that#but yeah Ive just been testing the ink and stuff out with these#doing these like. less than an hour each. no brain just go#man I wanna fly a kite... theres an open plot of land right next to me. I should try doing that#go out and hang out with so many bugs and fly a kite#gods. I need to sleep. idk not much to say here I simply think reki is a growing boy and he'll become great and awesome#thats all folks! have a good night. well good day. its 5am#sleep well! run so fast
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Ohhhh hoo hoo so @/writing_prompt_s posted this prompt: âYou were the only child that didn't have powers in a family of metahumans. Today you got kidnapped by a supervillain⊠and none of your family came to the rescue.â
Imagining Four⊠pre powers⊠having nightmaresâŠ
Bc of course his family would never, but intrusive thoughts and a scary young mindâŠ..
My muse grabbed me and I wrote something for this in a few hours and itâs not the exact same as the prompt but itâs pretty darn close so! enjoy.
Tw nightmare, also I teared up writing this so be warned it hits kinda hard but itâs hurt/comfort so dw. Sorry Four.
ââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââââ
Four didnât know what was chasing after him, but he was too terrified to look.
Something grabbed at his back and Four frantically shook it off, wishing not for the first time that he had longer legs. He bolted down the street, no traffic around to stop him, or even people to ask for help, and finally recognized his house in the distance.
Four charged, relief sweeping over him at the sight of his family out in the yard.
Theyâll help me, theyâll stop it, theyâll save meâ
Something shot out and grabbed him right as he reached the mailbox, and Four cried out, falling to the ground as his family looked over at him in surprise.
âHelp!â Four cried, but his siblings merely glanced at each other, then went back to what they were doing. âWhâ no wait! Wait help!â
His brothers began to walk away towards the house, not appearing to care a bit that their younger brother was in trouble. Four watched in disbelief as they strode away, hurt striking him even harder then the pain from falling on the ground.
âT-Twi?â Four whimpered.
Twilight didnât even give him a backward glance as they all filed in, Wind closing the door behind them.
More hands grabbed at Four, beginning to pull him backwards, and he looked frantically around for help, his gaze landing on his mother standing nearby.
âMama! Donât let them take me!â Four cried out, but she merely shook her head, Time walking up to stand beside her.
âSorry Link. Youâre just... not useful,â Malon sighed, giving him a disappointed look.
âIf only you were born with powers,â his father said with a shake of his head. âMaybe youâd be worth saving.â
The arms tugged Four further away from his family and he clawed against them, his eyes stinging as panic and horror shook through him.
âWait!â he shrieked, but Malon merely turned away, Time following after her. âPlease donâtâ I can be useful! I promise I can, Iâ donât let them take me!â
Time glanced back at him as Malon paused, his bad eye glowing slightly as they watched Four struggle.
âNo you canât,â he said simply, voice emotionless. âYouâre not special, Link. And this family has no need for useless children.â
And he and Malon turned to head inside.
âNo, no wait!â Four screamed, more arms clawing at him, pulling him back into the darkness. âDaddy, Mama please, pleaseââ
A hand tried to cover his mouth, but Four thrashed away from it, and he managed to let out one last scream for his parents before he was pulled into the darkness.
âIâm not useless!â
âFour, Four wake up!â
Fourâs eyes shot open, and he didnât even realize he was screaming until he it suddenly cut off into a sob, his face already damp with tears.
Something touched his arm, and Four stiffened, blinking the tears out of his eyes just enough to see the blurry figure of his father next to his bed, eyes wide with concern.
Another sob burst out of him, and Four closed his eyes, shaking with the want to throw himself into his fatherâs arms, but unable to forget how heâd looked at him in his dream.
This family has no need for useless children.
Four heaved in a whimpering breath, and before he could figure out what to do next, his father had moved forward and pulled him into his arms, holding him tight.
âLink, shh, itâs okay,â Time whispered, Four shaking with remaining terror from his dream. âYou were having a nightmare, itâs all right.â
Four sobbed, his father running a hand over his head, and didnât speak for several moments.
âI-it, it felt real,â he finally hiccuped, barely able to speak through the lump in his throat and terror constricting his chest, âyou, you a-and M-Mama said Iâmââ
His voice broke, and Time shushed him again, still trying to calm him down.
âYou s-said âcause I donât have p-powers, Iâm useless,â Four sobbed, and he heard Time inhale.
âOh Four, no, youâre not useless,â he breathed, tucking him securely under his chin. âMe and your mother would never say that.â
âBut I am,â Four cried, burying his face in his fatherâs shirt. âI canât do a-anything, I canât run like Wild, o-or turn into things like L-Legend or Twi, or e-evenââ
âLink Smith Forester, you are not useless,â Time said firmly, holding him tight. âHaving or not having powers doesnât have any bearing on that. Youâre not useless now, and you never will be. Powers or not.â
Four felt more tears drip down his face.
âYou d-didnât try to save me,â Four whimpered, his words interspersed with sniffling. âIn th-the dream, you didnât bother.â
âWeâll always bother, Four,â his father whispered back. âIf youâre ever in trouble weâll come save you, I promise. You donât need to worry about that.â
âSure?â Four whispered.
âIâm sure. I promise.â
Time slightly eased his grip, leaning back to grab something, and Four wiped his eyes, feeling a little better, but still miserable. His dream still lurked at the forefront of his mind, the faces of his family uncaring and indifferent, the words they spoke holding nothing but disapointment and annoyance at having to deal with him. Time leaned forward again as Four let out another sniffle, and handed him the stuffed bird he usually slept with, tucking him back into his arms.
Four squeezed it tight to his chest, and Time began to lightly rock him, humming something under his breath that Four could barely make out.
âDonât leave,â Four whispered when Time shifted how he was sitting, and his father nodded, wrapping him more securely in his blankets.
âIâm staying right here,â he whispered back, and went back to humming the soft melody.
Four relaxed a bit, still sniffling and shaking, but much less terrified, his dream finally fading to the background of his mind. Timeâs hand ran through his hair, the soft rumbling of the melody in his chest comforting under Fourâs head, and he closed his eyes.
The last thing he remembered before drifting off was his father holding him tight.
#this is actually more whumpy then the next febuwhump fic I have HEH#answers from the floor#anon#incredibles au#linked universe#linkeduniverse#fic#lu four#lu time#incredibles au fic#writing from the floor#Time doesn't say i love you out loud very often but he shows it in other ways#like humming a certain soothing song#you all know the one#anyway can you tell i wrote this in like three hours hahahahaha my head hurts *wanders off to get medicine*
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I have a love-hate relationship with being a fic writer sometimes⊠on one hand, Iâll have an idea and Iâll love writing it and Iâll love the responses I get when I post it, but then on the other hand Iâll end up with new ideas which means new wips and a lot of older unfinished wips that I committed to but donât really enjoy writing anymore.
Like I have so many new things that Iâve started about adult bkdk that I wanna post but at the same time I have three unfinished ongoing fics that Iâm bored of writing and I donât wanna post new stuff until I finish the old stuff UGH. You see my dilemma??
#my three ongoing ones are about bkdk as teens#and Iâm so tired of writing them as teensđ#two of them I started while I was still a teenager so it felt a little more relatable. I had just graduated high school and I was 18-19#but Iâm 21 now and now theyâre canonically 25-26 which feels more relatable and I want to write them as adults more#I have three wips that I havenât posted yet about them as adults AND I WANNA WORK ON THEM SO BAD#BUT THEN I FEEL GUILTY FOR NOT FINISHING THE FICS THAT I ALREADH STARTED#AHHHHHH#I think about abandoning them and then think to myself âDeku would never abandon an unfinished ficâ#and then I write on the old stuff for a few hours before getting bored again#and Iâm torturing myself cuz once a nerd only has three chapters left and I can knock it out in a day if I really wanted to#and h!imyh has like 5-6 chapters left at most but I honestly think I wrote myself into a corner#well not really⊠I just donât really remember the original ending I had planned cuz I started it so long ago#and then chrysanthemum is literally just a rewrite of canon and I have project it having like 50 more chapters and itâs just intimidating#Hori whyâd you have to make mha so longggggg#anyways#bnha#bakudeku#bkdk#midoriya izuku#bakugou katsuki#puff speaks#bnha fanfic#puff writes#itâs harder to feel motivated to write things I donât feel like writing when Iâm busy all the time as well#but when itâs something I wanna write Iâll literally drop 10k words within a few hours cuz Iâm a certified yapper#puff vents
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i think i'm starting to really like writing again :D this will have consequences
#just me hi#oho so my beloved is back from the war huh [<- had locked the doors and windows to keep its 'beloved' out and forgot about it]#that old itch to just start slapping sounds i know on a doc and hoping in 3 days it still makes sense is back lol :3#/can't read the last thing i wrote yet cuz it hasn't been three days </3#rule is i have to spend the same amount of time away from it as i spent working on it. including editing. sad!#it Does help my brain reset though. and forget about literally everything bfhvsjgh#and i know it's possible for me to finish this kinda stuff now so like. Woho !!#the power. the Powerrrr#/also tryna get more comfortable with sharing my writing so i'm starting by sending small finished stuff to like 2 people i trust kfvshg#i can handle unwarranted critiques of my art but i am not at a stage for my writing where it won't cause like international#devastation and that's goofy so Pfvhsh đ#we're working on it :)#and i think people's reactions are amusing so ehehehghehghgehg :3 a bonus :33#//yea though i'm gonna go put some more obleas in the freezer#obleeeeeeeeaaaa can't wait to seeeee yaaaaaa. on. my. Plaaaaate#btw shoutout to eating a spoonful of cajeta at like 1 in the morning thinking everyone's asleep and then you look up and younger#sibling no. 4 is there staring dead into your eyeballs like. is there anymore#and you go uhhh yea. and then as he's walking around to get some younger sibling no. 3 rises up from seemingly nowhere like I Want Some Too#lmfshvhf#and then you're all just sitting up for about 2 more hours just talking about very dumb things and having cajeta. illegally but still hfbvh#//anyway i'm gonna depart now :) ciao toodles lol :3
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The Secret of the Greenhouse
A little non canon compliant Tabitha fic for Scarlet Hollow.
Tabitha loathes taking care of theâŠthing in the greenhouse. But with Pearlanne gone she's the only one left to do it.
(Please note: I wrote this before Episode 4 came out and based it on my thoughts on the Goop Teddy fan theory at the time. Now we know what's actually in the greenhouse, so this very much doesn't follow canon. But after @georgiedoesntfloat asked me about my SH fic ideas I couldn't get this one out of my head because I liked the vibes. So here it is, and it's all thanks to Georgie!)
Tabitha wasnât one to believe something unless she saw it herself. She lived in a world of what was concrete and right in front of her. Yet what was in front of her tested her mightily. It shouldnât exist, but somehow it did. Now that Pearlanne was gone, it was up to her to deal with thisâŠthing.
Pearlanne told Tabitha about it less than a year ago. Apparently it used to be Teddy Scarlet, who was said to have died in the mine collapse in 1918. For all she knew that was a lie. But she learned long ago to keep such thoughts to herself. Pearlanne had been insistent that she learn how to âcareâ for it. As if it were some kind of horrible pet.
Ever the dutiful daughter, she listened to what her mother had to say. Though Tabitha was sure Pearlanne left out quite a bit. There were too many missing pieces to the story she was given. Now she would never know the rest. Her mother was dead, and she knew not to trust what it had to say.
You can find the rest here on Ao3!
#poor Tabitha and her Eldest Daughter Syndrome despite being an only child#not canon compliant#Goop Teddy fan theory#angst#but like is it possible to write anything Tabitha-centric and it not be angsty?#omg I noticed just as I added the link that both this and âFogâ are 411 words! what are the chances of that?!#editing this today showed me I'm a better writer and editor than I was in November when I first wrote it#shocking that I posted two fics in less than a month!#scarlet hollow#tabitha scarlet#fanfic#excerpt from my writing#ao3#of course my brain decided that I hated a tiny part of this hours after I posting so I came back to edit it so my brain will stfu about it#literally taking out three words and adding in three different words was all it took - brains are fucking weird man
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love random not even logged in readers just dropping their 'constructive criticism' on your 100k+ story that you're putting online entirely for free. this is just a rant btw
"You obviously have a great talent and I think you should work on honing it some. As much as Iâve enjoyed the story, there are a few things that stand out that you might consider looking at. I feel like the story isnât sure what it wants to be at times; is it character driven or plot driven? It doesnât flow smoothly because sometimes we have these wonderful character vignettes, like Illumi and Kalluto on a road trip or Kite/Leorio/Gon/Killua in an apartment where plot doesnât really feel important, followed by what feels like heavily plot driven beats, like Kalluto and the spiders. In addition, it contributes to confusion because sometimes we see established characterization turned on its head. Especially the weird way everyone all of a sudden just sort of was OK with Kalluto being a spider and then working with Illumi when they just went to all that trouble to escape him? It all kind of feels forced and not natural. You know?
Anyway, Iâll definitely keep reading and look forward to seeing what happens."
first: love you trying to sound legitimate with your "in addition" like this is some kind of writer's workshop. second: in what way would I, the writer, think that an incomplete part of my story in which the reader does not yet know most of the main motivations (they are only hinted at so far) feels forced and not natural when I know what's happening, where it is going (and where I haven't had other readers comment with confusion about that part)
and moving on. don't do this. also like i said this is a wip in and no, no one is cool with Kalluto being a spider and no they're not cool working with Illumi, really. it was already established that some of them /have/ been working with Illumi before this~ he's someone that they know. like have you never been in a seriously dangerous situation that you just have to get through before you get back to what you want?*** also at this point Chrollo's real motive hasn't been entirely revealed.
Killua keeps changing his mind about what he's doing because he's a scared kid whose self-hatred is destroying him from the inside out. the POV is so tight that I have to keep dropping reminders that what is stated in the narrative is often not true! Illumi's POV, for example, keeps showing Killua as really loving him and being happy he's around but struggling with a desire for freedom, while with Killua's POV he's terrified of Illumi most of the time. like how is that not obviously a distorted POV where you can't trust the narrator?
"where plot doesnât really feel important, followed by what feels like heavily plot driven beats"
this part is especially irritating because it's like yeah that's how I want to write it? this isn't a published novel. I don't have to commit to making sure every scene is important to the plot. I can spend time writing a full scene about someone drinking a glass of water and then 13 chapters in a row that are for moving the plot forward. I didn't even tag it as a novel... I did tag it for unreliable narration and I keep getting annoyed that people keep ignoring that.
"I feel like the story isnât sure what it wants to be at times; is it character driven or plot driven?"
it's both??? it's neither??? it's a fanfic??? why do I keep getting comments lately where people are expecting me to adhere to like fucking publishing standards. this keeps up and I will write a chapter which is entirely about a minor character drinking a glass of water. watch me. I'll write one about phinks drinking a glass of water and you'll like it*
"Overall, the story is good and presented a compelling alternative to CA. Look, each fan has their own opinion on CA and I know I didnât like it. I think it was a product of what Togashi was going through as he began to experience health issues and then finding himself right back where he said he wasnât going to be mentally after he ended his earlier manga. We can never know for sure, but it certainly had a âwatch it all burn vibeâ to it near the end. I honestly believe he wanted it to end with the finality of Gonâs suicide as a capstone statement, but was probably convinced to go a different route, which kinda of left a jarring feel in the narrative and culminated in a rather unsatisfying end to Gon and Killuaâs journey. Despite that, I am very reluctant to read fics where the events of CA are erased or grossly modified and honestly yours is really the first long AU/alternate timeline Iâve enjoyed"
okay first of all, I love the CA arc. but I had to split a point off where Kite was going to survive. why do you have to leave this whole paragraph about how you think Togashi was or wasn't going to go with the CA on my fanfic? I didn't even write this as 'oh look at my alternative to CA bc I hated CA' I don't really look forward to hearing comments about how random people didn't like so and so aspect of the story that I'm basing my story off of. I've never written fanfic for a story that I didn't like (except for some things that I don't have published I wrote at a request for friends for a fandom they were into that I wasn't really) and yeah I've wanted to 'fix' aspects (like tolkien's treatment of women for example) but I am not looking for your 'this is what I hated about the source material' comments on my stories
tired of getting comments with little 'oh I didn't like your style at first but now I do' or 'here's how to fix your story!' unsolicited advice from people who aren't better writers than me (I don't even want it from people who would be better writers than me on stuff I'm just doing for fun and for free)
when did stuff like this become normal? at least don't be a coward and be not logged in so you can't even get a response notification. like girl they aren't cool with it! why do you think everyone is on guard standing around like they're in a fucking hostage situation? how do you see such wildly different interpretations from different character's POVs and think it's not intentional? what part about Kite watching Killua like a fucking hawk makes you think he's going to let Illumi take him after this?
like if you've never had to smile and pretend to be cool with your abuser (pretend to love them) or someone who was threatening you to keep someone else safe then good for you! it fucking sucks! also don't know how to explain to you what a child who is growing up in an extremely isolated abusive situation goes through (though I keep writing about it in this story you should catch on...) but it's a million back and forths with emotion and feelings--especially if their abuser does (to in some way or to some degree) love them. and it is often blaming themselves. I'm not letting my years of studying human psychology and child development go to waste here**
is this story perfect? no but I'm not gonna hire an editor for a fanfic. and everyone's interpretations of characters will be different. especially with child characters who are going through huge changes in the world around them and their personal lives. part of the appeal of fanfiction is 'who would they become if this happened instead?' *sorry I keep writing about starving and not having clean drinking water but I will never stop because that's what I grew up with and it's hell. also phinks drinking water would be compelling since I assume he'd have harder access to clean drinking water
**hunter x hunter is also one of the only stories I have encountered with characters who have backgrounds as fucked up as mine and Togashi's interest in human psychology really stands out.
***like good for you but that was most of my life and you sometimes just have to shut up and get through it. and no I will not put my notes in the right order bc I'm not being paid enough****
****I'm being paid nothing
#sorry i got one too many comments that irritated me#feel free to chime in if you're getting comments like this too#it's been really getting on my nerves lately#and making me not want to post anything#you're not my teacher or editor#and i don't use a beta reader bc i'd never post anything#if i had to think of it as work and not just for me#i already do writing for work where i have to really consider the reader#i also didn't like one commenter pointing out typos#i'll catch them at some point#they were like great chapter! here's all the mistakes i saw#so download the story and fix them yourself if they bother you so much you have to run through and do line edits#if you don't want typos i'd have to wait two to three months so the story looked fresh#to catch them before posting and i'm not doing that#you can think this sounds bitchy but writing is hours and hours of work#i could jot down five sentences just for myself and have a story for years just remembering what i was thinking when i wrote those#you want a perfectly edited story? then go read a professionally published book#oh i guess that's not good enough for you either#okay now i am being bitchy but in my defense#i'm not forcing them to read it
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âš
#okay so!#I'm still behind in my classes but I just sat at the computer and did homework for like three hours and it came out good#and the email I wrote in tears actually helped me because my prof said she won't deduct points for lateness just this once#and I also have some new projects to do at work tomorrow and I actually *may* get to bed at a semi-respectable time tonight#so maybe all is not lost đ©”#elly's posts
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worst way to love someone is quietly/////////////
#remember when we made a marriage pact#remember when you were the only thing that kept me alive. when i was lying on that hospital bed in the er#and you were the only one who knew bc i was afraid to call my parents#we used to be the only ones there for each other#remember driving three hours in silence listening to graceland and knowing we were both thinking it#remember when you . literally taught me how to play guitar#remember the smoke signals. how we sent messages through everything#remember that night at the motel we were all in c's room talking and you put your hand on my back#and then we laid beside each other whispering about how relationships dont make sense#and you fell asleep first and i went under the covers and got really close to your back to feel your body heat#remember how lonely we both were before#i wrote in my journal that loving you was the most important thing that had ever happened to me#and you loving me was the only thing i had ever worked for and earned#and id stay alive to get us both out of here. id write that album and youd be lead guitar and i owed you that#and when you moved away it was the worst thing#you got the high and low of my life.#you were afraid to tell me you were leaving and i accidentally found out when your mom told mine and#i got so sick immediately#but then you came back to me#anyways after all this#yeah whatever me neither#i wouldnt have done it any other way and theres no other way it couldve went down#neither of us couldve been louder#thats how it happens i guess
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.
#tag talk#vent#I don't wanna do the whole âI'm so good at psychology cause I've fixed myself. I should go into counselingâ thing that overly empathetic#empathetic people do. but like. nothing like deconstructing a tense social conflict to make you feel good#the smol autistic minecraft enby who adopted me had a moment and I helped break down the situation and resolve shit with them. it was cool#but also I immediately went out to the living room and napped for three hours. thinning that hard was exhausting.#do you ever do the depression nap thing? when I'm doing well I never sleep during the day. but when I'm sad I take naps a lot#because I don't want to be awake and I sleep poorly at I night and am just generally lethargic so I nap on the floor or couch a lot#ugh knowing the stress will go away doesn't help the fact that it's super awful right now.#it's times like this that I wish I'd really committed to it in Feb. like. in two weeks I'll be better and joy de vivre and all that.#but right now? ugh. big fuckin ugh#the minecraft emotional labor thing is just a natural responsibility of being a 25 year old playing online video games with 15 year olds.#if I see a situation blowing up I can't hear sit by and watch someone destroy their friendships on the server. I have to help#but also bro I am struggling to help myself. maybe I say I'm packing up my pc early so that I have a good excuse to stay off the server#I literally did the thing again where I make new friends. make everyone love me. and then get burnt out at the speed of light and disappear#making friends is so easy. leaving friends is so easy. nothing is forever and we all die someday. blah blah blah you know it already#meaningless meaningless. all is meaningless. maybe king Solomon was just fuckin depressed when he wrote that. sure sounds like it to me.#I just can't do anything when I'm like this. we're subsistence living now bois.#I wonder if part of my neurological damage is from the lead I used to eat in high school.#the windex shots can't have been good for me. but I don't think that stays in your body the same way#though it did fuck up my urinary tract for a few months. that was wild.#anyway. I wonder how much of my chronic periodic funk is just effects from bad choices and how much is normal natural inevitable.#everything is an ocean. nothing is a lake. the waves are always thirty feet high and the troughs scrape you on the bottom of the reef#nothing is midline except when you're rushing through to one extreme or another.#you're either overstimulated or absent from your body entirely#both of which cause wild and oft unbearable dissociation.#everything gets better and everything gets worse. I'm only like this when I'm stressed. but that's my secret cap (avengers reference)#anyway. I'll survive. I'll make it. I'll live because I need to become even more gay to make my family mad.#I need to keep living so my dad realizes just how much he's lost touch.#so my mom cries about how she should have done something differently so I wouldn't grow up gay. because that makes so much sense right?
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I got the words out I can live in peace
#this might be a record for me#three fics in one day#I wrote this one also in an hour btw#almost exactly an hour#I created the docuiment at 8:41#it is now 9:42#and there are 4.6k words down on the paper#welp#liveblogs writing#phever dreams with phantom#rambling#im not gonna push my luck thats probably good#I think I got all the words out of me#I dont have any more burning ideas
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writing timelines for my creative story projects in Excel is so chaotic, but also the only way to write timelines
#just spent uhh...three hours ish transferring a handwritten timeline into a digital Excel file#technically didn't even complete it I'm missing all sorts of events and basically all the years#like the entire point of using Excel is so I can write out years and be able to track things like character ages#but man I had forgotten just how much I had written by hand and then mentally added in#w/ the intention of writing the events in when I wrote up a digital timeline#like okay this is what I get for tracking the history of humanity in my newest fantasy world from the stone age onwards I guess#was not expecting to take that long honestly#like I wanted to work on some other projects and then just got Really Focused On This One Task oops#alas my poor hours I wished to spend you doing something else#ah well#oracle of lore
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how i manifested (+revised) my dream body ౚà§
This is my first post on my new account, though I am NOT new to the law and NOT new to loablr either. This post is specifically about how I manifested my dream body instantly with no technique besides knowing :)
PART ONE - the old story
In the old story, I was so fixated on my body and my weight all of the time, I was tracking my calories and weighing myself and my food obsessively and constantly gaining and losing weight. Back then, my beliefs were that 1) Excess food causes weight gain, 2) If I don't track my food and weigh myself, I will become too fat/skinny, and 3) There is something wrong with my body, and I need to diet/exercise to fix it.
Noticing these beliefs were key to changing the way I viewed food and my body, and therefore changing how I knew food to effect me and how I knew my body to be.
When I was overweight, I knew my body was too big, I knew I was eating too much, I knew excess calories made me gain weight. When I was underweight, I knew I had no appetite, I knew I was too bony, I knew that exercise makes you gain muscle which is why I had none, etc. I had to identify the limiting beliefs that made me know my body was a certain way.
PART TWO - writing the new story
Once I identified the beliefs that were holding me back and kept me from my goals ("I know I eat too much, even if I affirm I'm skinny, I'm still going to gain weight."), I could then change them. I wrote down a list of these beliefs, like I did above, and came up with reversals. For example;
"I overeat, so I will gain weight" -> "Calories aren't even real, so I can eat whatever I want and stay the same weight."
"I eat junk food, so I'll never be skinny" -> "I love how fast my metabolism is, I can eat junk all day and still stay so skinny." or "Junk food is just like other foods. Raspberries can't make me fat so neither can hamburgers."
"I don't exercise enough to be toned" -> "It's crazy how I'm naturally so toned and fit without trying."
The key for me was changing key beliefs that kept me dieting and exercising to lose weight, to sever the tie between calories consumed and weight, and hours exercising and muscles. These are limiting beliefs. We literally create our reality. Not ice cream, not soda and chips, none of that can overcome YOU as a divine creator. It sounds silly when you spell it out like that, doesn't it?
PART THREE - how i did it
Okay, now we understand that the secret is to change the rules of our own reality to allow us to know a higher truth (my higher truth? I am a skinny legend). So how do we put this into practice?
All you have to do is know. You set these rules, so you know they are true, reality is bound to them. You must know you are successful, know that reality is in the 4d, and feel truly satisfied in that realm. You can do this using whatever method you need to, but personally, I just knew deep within me that I was my ideal weight, and that nothing could change that, that is simply the reality, that is simply the way things are. I thought about old pictures I took of myself, and remembered how skinny I looked in them, I thought about the last time I saw my friends and how much littler they said I'd gotten, I thought about the last time I stood on the scale and how it read the exact weight I knew myself to be. And I just knew, deep within me, that was simply how things were.
And the last step, for me, was to feel truly joyful at this realization. To feel satisfied it came into fruition. Without seeking confirmation, because I already KNEW.
And what do you know? Pictures of myself in my phone from weeks ago, they were my ideal body. The girl I saw in the mirror when I stood up from my meditation? She had my ideal body. My clothes? XS and S, all of them. I had revised my ideal body all the way back to the day I bought them. And confirmed this by checking pictures I took in the dressing room.
I'm telling you right now it is possible if you know in your heart you've always had your desire. It's always been fulfilled within you. You make the rules because you are a divine creator. Nothing outside of you can change what you know to be true.
That's all for now ౚà§
#edward art#law of assumption#law of attraction#neville goddard#manifesting#revision#loassumption#loablr#loa blog#living in the end#affirm and persist#loa
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âcrawl home to herâ | 7.5k
old man!logan x f!reader
SUMMARY: Will he be able to control himself once he's near you? In this moment, he feels more animal than human. Creeping, on the verge of crawling, back to you. OR Like a sinner seeking absolution, he finds his way back to you after every absence, as if you're the only salvation he's ever known.
WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni smut 18+ cursing. drinking. dirty talk. some fluff. comfort. feelings. self-deprecation. miscommunication. sort of established relationship. age gap (reader's in her late 20s). petnames. religious imagery. logan's POV. chauffeur!logan. dom!logan. reader wears logan's dog tags and clothes. pussy pronouns. phone sex. oral sex (f and m receiving). 69. fingering. masturbation (he jerks off in the limo). one (1) single spank. sort of rough sex. unprotected p in v. creampie.
A/N: i wrote this as a part 2 of this story, but still, it can be read as a standalone (i'd recommend that you also read the first part as well đ you'll understand their relationship better). hope you like this one! <3
Logan is tired. Bone-deep, soul-crushingly tired.
He takes a slow, deliberate drag from his cigar, letting the smoke curl inside his chest, teasing his lungs. Doesnât even bother to crack the window openâwhy would he?âbefore exhaling, the haze lingering inside the limo like a fog.
One quick glance at his phone screen just to make sure his vision isnât screwing him overâno older notifications. A pang of disillusionment settles in his being.
Not only is he fighting to keep his eyes open, exhausted from driving the same family around for the past few days while they enjoy their quality time, but heâs also bored out of his mind.Â
Where the hell are you?
He adjusts his glasses, pushing them higher up on the bridge of his nose, preventing them from sliding down to his lap. When his phone buzzes, he jolts, nearly hitting his head on the roof of the limo due to his excitement.
His poor heart gallops as he fumbles with the screen, unlocking it with the same urgency as a man starved for contact.
But itâs not you. Itâs one of his passengers.
Weâre getting out in half an hour, the message reads. By we, she means herself, her husband, and their two kids.
Logan canât bring himself to type an actual reply, so he leaves her on read. She knows heâs not going anywhere, parked outside the arcade as if heâs rooted in place with no way out.
Family after family enters that hell on earth, kids of all ages bouncing on their heels, voices shrill with enthusiasm. He watches, half-heartedly, as parents get dragged by their little ones, who negotiate how much money they are allowed to spend tonight.
He almost feels bad for those parents. Almost. He hopes that at least they know how to say âNoâ.
All in all, heâs got another thirty minutes of solitude ahead. The radio has long since ceased to entertain him. Heâs been parked here for two hours, and his mind is starting to drift. He could stretch his legs, walk around, or maybe grab a drinkâbut damn it.
He wants to talk to you.
Youâd said he could call you after dropping the family off. That was three hours ago. The last message he received from you was still stuck in his head, replaying over and over like a lifeline. Logan knows you must be busy, probably taking care of Charles andâ
Okay, heâll get back to that later.Â
You: Just got out of the shower. Call me in five?
Right now, he could die a happy man. Were he a dog, his tail would be wagging furiously, anticipation already building for the simple joy of hearing you.
Logan: Got it.
The next five minutes feel like an eternity. He finishes his cigar, flicking the stub beneath the seat without giving it a second thought. For now, he doesnât care about being a messy fucker. Heâll deal with the mess some other time.
Priorities.
A quick spritz of some cheap air freshener he picked up from a gas station fills the car, masking the distinctive scent of smoke. God forbid the kids start whining about how âweirdâ it smells in the limo.
With a grimace, he sprays a little moreâfloral, of all scents? It feels insulting.
How kind of him to still be this considerate.
His thumb hovers over your contact, and he presses the call button with an agility he hasnât had in years (thanks to you).
One, two, three rings, and thenâ
âLogan,â you say softly, your voice a little breathless, like youâve been hurrying all over the place.
He stops grinding his jaw, the tension in his shoulders easing. He unclenches his fists, fingers uncurling one by one, as if letting go of some invisible burden.
Outside the vehicle, people stop dying, babies stop being born, and the world itself pauses just for him to listen to you.
You canât see him, but he smiles either way. âHey, baby.â
âGosh, Iâm so sorry. I lost track of time talking to Charles. We had dinner, and then I justâI felt so gross, you know? From cooking and all that. Took a shower, and it got pretty late.â
You end with a sigh, and he imagines you rubbing a hand over your face. âPlease tell me you werenât sleeping when I texted you.â
âNot even close. Still waiting for them.â
âTheyâre really taking their time, huh?â
âYou wouldnât believe it,â he murmurs, his fingers drumming a soft rhythm on the steering wheel. âHow was your day?â
âGreat! Iâm already in bed.â
âMy bed.â
You laugh, that sweet sound making his heart stutter. âWell, yeah. Where else do you want me to sleep if Iâm at your place? On the floor?â
If someone had told Logan a year ago that heâd let someone live in his space, let alone take care of Charles, heâd have scoffed. "Pathetic," heâd have said, rolling his eyes with that familiar growl in his throat. Pretty sure heâd also puffed his chest while saying so.
Because Logan Howlett wasnât one for accepting help. Heâs been on his own since the earth was still cooling down.
But for you? He made exceptions. Plenty of them. And if it werenât for your altruism, he wouldnât have accepted this jobâa job that pays well enough to cover Charlesâ meds and put food on the table. He needs this rich familyâs money.
âYouâve got a girlfriend now?â Charles had asked, when Logan explained heâd be staying with you while he went away for a few days.
âBig word youâre using there,â Logan had replied, placing two pills into Charlesâ palm. The old man gave him a death stare. âDonât play dumb. Itâs not like you donât know the drill.â
Mumbling something incoherent before swallowing the pills, Charles had taken slow sips of water between each one, sinking back into the mattress with a weary sigh. âIf sheâs not your girlfriend, then what is she?â
âA friend.â
âThatâs nice. Is that what theyâre calling it now?â
He shakes that memory away, forcing his mind back to the call. âTry not to be so kind to him. What if he falls in love with you?â he inquires, a mocking tone weaving through his words.Â
And thatâs when you drop the bombshell. âYou mean like you did?âÂ
You laugh, but Logan⊠doesnât. He canât do it. He makes sure heâs breathing on command: in and out, in and out, in and out.Â
The mention of love unsettles him. He doesnât feel safe anymore, doesnât know what game youâre playing. Whereâs the rulebook?
Is heâcould he beâfalling in love with you? Is that what youâre implying? And if so, do you feel the same?
In the long run, you mumble: âIt was a joke.â Only then do his lungs fill with fresh air, untainted by the weight of his unease. But he canât let it pass, the fact you sound disappointed. Defeated.
He promised himself heâd never hurt you. Though he doesnât intend to, it feels as if heâs just stabbed you in the back, twisting the knife further into your frameâunwillingly.
âRemember theââ he pauses a moment, throwing his head back in frustration, silently cursing himself. âThe pills. Youâve been giving them to him, right?â
âYes, Logan.â
âPlease, remember itâs onlyââ
âLogan,â you try again, cutting through the wave of his spiraling thoughts. He can picture you behind closed lids, looking at him through your lashes, your hand resting gently on his chest. âI have it under control, okay? Heâs doing alright. I swear Iâm taking good care of him.â
âI donât doubt that, honey.â Casting a glance at the rearview mirror, he feels an unexpected sense of longing for your presence there, like a ghost haunting his every move, confined to the limits of his brain. âCanât help but worry. Thatâs all.â
A soft hum reverberates through the line. He hears the rustle of sheets, the sound of you tossing around in his bed, and his pulse quickens at the thought.
âYou said youâre sleepinâ on my bed.â
âGood memory you have.â
âYou wearinâ my clothes as well?â
 Thick silence, the kind he relishes.
âYeah,â you finally reply, shifting the phone from side to side. You take a deep breath, and add: âI forgot to bring mine.â
He hates how you easily find a way to get him riled up despite being miles away. It must be the power of words.
âI donât believe you.â He knows he shouldnât, hates himself for doing it, but one of his hands palms the half-hard bulge in his black slacks, suppressing a low groan. âThink you did it on purpose.â
A rush of heat, sharp and urgent, washes over him. Is he really about to do this? Get himself off in the very car he uses for work? Twisted, incredibly sick of him, he thinks.
Still, he craves more. âTell me what youâre wearing.â
You laugh at his demanding tone, fanning the flames of his desperation. âWhen did you turn into a horny teenager?â
âAlways been, baby,â Logan purrs, undoing the button of his pants, followed by the fly. His eyes flick upwards for just a momentâno cars, no one in sight. Heâs presumably alone. Itâs all the confirmation he needs to say: âCâmon. Tell your old man what clothes you stole from him.â
Heâs never done this beforeâphone sex. Heâs heard about it, sure, but never imagined heâd fall so hard for the idea. The thrill of it sinks into him, electrifying.
What are you doing? Is your lip caught between your teeth? Do your eyes wander down your own body? Maybe your fingers are already skimming over your skin.
âItâs just a random shirt,â you murmur. âPlain, white.â
âWhat else?â
âThereâs nothing else.â
Loganâs breath hitches as his hand moves to his cock, spotting the damp patch on his briefs where the tip has already started to leak. The moment he slides the elastic down past his balls, he fists his shaft in a slow stroke, going from the base to the head. âNo panties? And you expect me tâbelieve this wasnât planned?â
Your muffled whimper is like molten lava spilling into his ear, bringing him to full hardness. More shuffling follows on your end, driving him wild with the anticipation. âWhy do you do this to me if youâre not here?â
ââCause I want you touchinâ yourself just like Iâm doinâ.â He thumbs the head, hips jerking involuntarily at the sensation. He aches to feel your mouth there instead. âBet that pussyâs been cryinâ out for me, huh? Mustâve got used to me fillinâ her every other night.â
Your breathing grows more uneven, small gasps filtering through the speaker. âI need you here with me. This isâughânot enough.â
âWhatâs not enough, sweetheart?â
Thereâs a pause as the sound of your phone shifts again, and then he hears it clearlyâthe wet, needy sound of your fingers working between your legs, filling the silence with the loud squelching of your cunt. âMy fingers,â you blurt out, more distant than before, like youâre merging with the bed, dissolving with every touch.
Logan spits roughly into his palm, the slickness of his saliva easing the drag of his calloused hand along his length, good enough to make the movement more satisfying.
He moans aloud, eyes shut tight, your name slipping from his lips, a whispered prayer, as if saying it could somehow summon you to his side. âI spoil you too much,â he rasps, wedging his phone between his ear and shoulder, using every resource available to him, anything to feel something real. âSeems like youâve forgotten how to make yourself come.â
Your moans follow his, the breathy sounds a clear sign of how close you are, hanging on the edge, your release just a heartbeat away. But itâs not enough, and you need him. He wonders if you can feel his thoughts from miles away, becauseâ âWant your cock so bad, Lo. I m-miss you.â
He has to stop jerking himself to hold off his orgasm, stomping his foot against the pedals. âFuck, darlinâ. You keep sayinâ those things and I swear Iâll be back with you by morning.â
His sole focus now is youâgetting you to come. Driven by his growing frenzy, itâs the only coherent thought that claws through the haze in his mind. âKeep talking, please,â you plead, fingers still lost in the heat of your body. âTell me what youâll do to me when you see me.â
Logan picks up the rhythm again, his movements faltering as his chest heaves, ragged breaths spilling out while his hand works faster. âGonna fuck you slow and deep, just how you like it. Face to face, so you can kiss me as much as you want, âcause I know my girl loves that, am I right?â
My girl. Heâll regret that one the second the high fades and clarity sets in.
Word after word falls from his lips without thought, uncontrollable, as though heâs surrendered to the storm of desire raging in his beingâa storm in which your name is the eye of it all.
You are everywhere, and you take up all the empty spaces he thought were impossible to fill, sinking into the depths of his unconsciousness.
Not a single part of him is left untouched by you, by the power of your presence in his life, consuming him in ways he never imagined.
Your airy mewls ripple through the line, feeding his ravenousness, adding to the tightening knot of pleasure coiling low in his abdomen. His muscles strain, thighs tensing. Each stroke of his hand prolongs this sweet torture.Â
âCome for me, princess. Youâd make me so h-happy if you came right now.â
And you do, because itâs not just his touch anymoreâitâs his voice, and the way he commands you without force. How youâve become accustomed to him, nodding along to each instruction he mutters.
Beneath your fingers, your swollen clit pulses, and though he canât see it, he imagines it perfectly, having spent enough time worshiping it.
He knows, even from a distance, what your body must be doing. Your back arching off the bed, thighs quivering and clenching tight around your own hand. Those perfect legs of yours trembling as you reach your so-desired climax.
Loud and unrestrained, you moan, and for a moment, he wants to be with you so badly that he ponders if the theory of traveling across time and space sounds that far-fetched after all.
Logan doesn't need much after that for the thread to snap at long last, his groans dying on his lips as he stares in awe at the spurts of his seed landing wherever his eyes fall: a bit on the top of his pants, on his hand, his briefs. His cock twitches in his grip as he continues stroking himself through the aftershocks, gulping when it becomes too much to handle.
So phone sex is off the list now. Great.
âMiss you, too,â he mumbles once heâs caught his breath, tossing his glasses onto the passenger seat. His forehead feels damp to the touch, and he contemplates when was the last time he came this hard.
The elephant in the room hasnât been addressed yet. He knows you expect him to say more, something deeper and rawer, but thatâs all he can force himself to spit out.
Sometimes, he forgets that you canât read him all the time. Although you know him better than anyone else, there are certain thoughts and memories locked tightly inside him, things you'd never discover on your own. Secrets he admits he should share with you, but heâs at a loss for how. Words arenât doable when he needs them the most.
Maybe it's a matter of ageâyouâre a natural at voicing your feelings.
At some point, you ask: âWhen did you say you were returning?â
One thingâs clear: he canât afford to lose you. Heâd be an idiot if he let that happen.
âIn five days, I think.â Were he with you, he'd hold you in his arms, kissing your lips. God, how he misses kissing you. All of you. âIâll keep you updated.â
âItâs okay,â you respond, and in his mind, a blank canvas fills with the familiar image of you lying on your side, curling into a ball the way you always do. âI should go to sleep. Talk to you tomorrow.â
âSure.â Thank you for everything. âGet some rest.â Are you still in love with me? âBye.â Iâm coming back. You know how I feel about you, do you?
So much left unsaid, words he lacks the strength to speak. That, along with his come-stained clothes. And, of course, the limousine now perfumed like a flower shop.
Exhaustion clings to him again.
His luck has never been this good.
The next afternoon, one of the coupleâs kids falls ill. Must be something he ate, the woman tells Logan, her voice light, though he can hear the shuffle of urgency behind her words.
Her husband packs their bags in the background, the muted thuds of luggage hitting the floor. You know how children are. Their hands are always filthy!
What she doesnât realize is that Logan, in fact, doesnât know how children are, because how could he?
Heâs holed up in the hotel across the street, his only responsibility being to wait on their call, ready to drive whenever they needed him. Needless to say, his accommodations are nothing like theirs. Not that he minds itâheâs not one for luxury, has never needed it.
Truth be told, heâs no stranger to beds that groan if you shift slightly, clogged toilets that spit back water like theyâre alive.
Joy rushes through him when he hears the news. Heâs coming back earlier than expected, a thrill building in his chest. Twelve days heâs been away, his greed growing with each second in that desolate hotel room.
Now, the beating of his heart quickens, a faint thrumming as he stares out the window. He debates whether to let you know about his early return or keep it as a surprise. Would it be better if he just showed up?
How would you feel, knowing that, by the time the lights are out, heâll be yours again?
He knows he should feel sorry for the poor kid, but all he can muster is a look of concern that barely reaches his eyes. Each time they pull into a gas station, he listens to the hurried slap of footsteps as the boy rushes for the bathroom to empty his insides.
He watches in the rearview as the kidâs father shakes his head, clicking his tongue with disapproval. âDo you have kids?â he asks, his voice forced into a casual tone, like heâs trying to break the silence thatâs settled between them.Â
Loganâs only response is to turn up the radio, some pop song heâs never heard spilling from the speakers. The lyrics are a blur of nonsense to him, but itâs enough to drown out the manâs words and the boyâs misery.
Some things never change.
As the sun dips below the horizon, heâs finally free, no longer at anyoneâs beck and call. He contemplates the possibility of getting a speeding ticket, weighing his options. It hardly matters. The pull to see you, to feel you, is stronger than anything else.
Even though he tries to think of another time in his life when he felt such a raw need, no memory comes close.
When he does pull up to his place, he does it quietly. Parking the limo, he doesnât honk, doesnât announce himself. Fumbling with the keys ever so lightly so as not to wake you up, fitting them into the lock.
His wrist twists, and the door gives way with a soft creak.
Anxiety ripples through him as he steps inside. The smell of freshly cooked food hits him, but it only tightens the knot in his stomach, reminding him of how long itâs been since he last ate.
Later, he tells himself. After. Once heâs sated his true hungerâthe kind of hunger that can only be satisfied by sinking his fingers into something real, fleshy, malleable.Â
Hungerâyes, itâs animalistic, feral even. Will he be able to control himself once heâs near you? In moments like this, he feels more animal than human. Creeping, on the verge of crawling, back to you.
His feet take him to his bedroom, knowing the path to it very well. Fingers hovering over the knob, he takes a deep breath.
Itâs already late, past midnight, yet energy courses through his veins as though heâs just woken from a long, ethereal dream.
He finds you asleep, your body wrapped snugly in the sheets, clutching a pillow close to your chest. Your cheek is pressed into it, breathing soft and steady, lulling him in. Kneeling on the edge of the bed, he kicks off his shoes, then slips in beside you, mirroring your position.Â
A lamp sits on his nightstand, one that isnât his, and he figures you must have brought it from your apartment. There has to be a symbolism for that.
Itâs incredible how his entire world can fit into such a narrow bed.
The smart thing would be to let you sleep, to simply watch you for a moment longer. But he canât help himself.
His thumb lingers near your face before gently cupping your cheek, and the very first contact with your skin sends a shudder through him, the warmth of your skin grounding him. He trails his fingers down to your chin, holding it with just enough pressure to remind himself that heâs here.
Leaning in, he presses his lips softly against your forehead, your typical perfume wrapping around him like a welcome.
Welcome home, Logan.
For the first time, he feels that someoneâs been counting down the minutes until his return. Heâd always believed a person like him didnât deserve this. That he just wasnât built for it.
Countless years had he spent convincing himself heâd never be the kind of man who could inspire love. His life had already been written long agoâpredetermined by some cruel hand in the sky.
Destiny, fate, call it what you wantâonce the cards are laid out, thereâs no escaping them. Or so he used to think.
You had taken that pen into your own hands, rewriting his future. You, of all people, had changed his life. No matter what the future held for the two of you, heâd always be grateful. Grateful that youâd seen the dim spark in him that others had chosen to ignore.
Thoughtlessly, his fingers continue their gentle strokes along your cheek, your hair. You stir beside him, shifting in your sleep. Your eyes flutter open, close again, and then open once more, blinking in confusion.
âLogan?â you croak, voice still groggy and thick with sleep, coming to your senses. Before he can respond, you throw yourself on top of him, smothering his face with kisses. âWhyâhowââ
âSweetheart,â he says, attempting to hide his grin, but failing when your kisses shift to his neck, your nose nuzzling against his skin. A laugh slips out, warmth flooding his chest.
âYou didnât tell me you were coming home early!â
Home. Had he heard right? Had you used that word knowingly?
Peering into your eyes, he catches his reflection in your pupils, tiredness etched into his features. âWanted it to be a surprise.â
âYou couldâve told me,â you reply, fingers threading through his greying locks, massaging his scalp. You place a tender kiss on the tip of his nose. âI wouldâve waited up for you at least.â
âWell, Iâm here now,â he whispers back, gaze drifting to your lips, and you close the space between you, his sigh mingling with yours as one hand cradles the small of your back, fisting the fabric of his shirt. His other hand tilts your head, inviting your tongues to greet each other in an unhurried dance.
You move languidly on top of him, and he notices, breaking the kiss and pulling back. âYouâre gonna fall asleep on me, are you?â
The way your lashes flutter in response should be illegal. âI could use a human-size pillow.â
âI should shower first.â
âNo.â
âBaby, I smell like gas.â
âSo?â
A smirk tugs at his lips at your insistence, and he gently lays you back against the mattress. Drawn to your charm once again, he licks into your mouth, mentally scolding himself when he gets carried away, letting the kiss linger longer than intended.
âIâll be quick,â he promises, pulling the sheets over your body. Resigned, you simply nod, settling on your side.
Ten minutes later, youâre dozing off, teetering on the edge of unconsciousness when he slips into bed, wrapping himself around you from behind. One arm drapes over your waist, the other cushions your head, and thereâs not a patch of skin between you left untouched.
Fatigue begins to delve deeper into his bones the longer he stays curled around you, but before the weight of sleep takes him, and the silence steals his chance, he huffs: âI missed you.â His beard grazes your skin in a soft, unintentional caress.
You pull his wrist to your lips, pressing a short-lived kiss to the inside of it. âMissed you, too.â
How the roles have reversed.
In the quietness of this starless night, you leave him no other choice but to believe you.
3:34 a.m. Still hostage to the lack of light outside. The world remains submerged in the gentle tides of sleep, undulating between dreams, except for him.
Logan wakes up at 3:34 a.m. because heâs rock hard, and being flushed against your back wasnât helping him with his situation at all. If anything, it only heightened it.
He sits at the edge of the bed, his mind running in circles, debating whether he should jump to his feet and head to the bathroom for another showerâthis time, a cold one. Returning to sleep, at least in this moment, is not a viable option.
His gaze drifts to the moonlight spilling through the window, casting its pale glow across the room. Is this your doing? The question lingers, unshakable, in his thoughts. It remains as just that: a question.
When you quietly rest your chin on his shoulder, he stifles a sigh, biting the inside of his cheek. Your voice breaks through the quiet.
âWhatâs wrong? Canât sleep?â Wrapping your arms around him from behind, you circle his frame, in an effort to persuade him to sink back into the mattress.
âItâs nothing,â he says, pulse accelerating. Please, donât look down. âIâll be back in a second.â
âBut what isââ
He doesnât get to hear the rest of your sentence. You do look down, finding the outline of his hardened cock straining against his briefs, stealing your full attention.
âWow.â
âGo back to sleep.â
âAnd leave you like this?â One hand creeps toward his waistband, your breath warm against his ear. âWouldnât miss this for anything in the world.â
Your nails trace a path through the coarse hair at his navel, and Logan tenses. His legs feel like jelly as you cup his balls, fondling them gently between your fingers.
Behind him, your low chuckle stirs something primal in him, making his blood thrum hot beneath his skin. He should be the one doing this to you, not the other way around.
âDarlinâ, I donâtââ Heâs cut off by his own guttural groan when you fist his length, pumping him in rhythm with his uneven breaths. âI donât need this.â
âSeems like you do,â you whisper, momentarily halting your ministrations to place your palm in front of his face, hoping he takes the hint. You kiss his stubble, pausing just short of his mouth. âI want to take care of you. Always do.â
Your palm hovers before him, inviting. Grabbing your wrist, he licks it, coating it in his spit and guiding you back down to him. Together, your hands glide along his length, and his gaze locks onto yours, the intensity of it making his neck tense.
You beam with delight under his stare. That red organ caged within his ribsâa blood-pumping machine of passionâsurges back to life as he sees you.
He had won the battle. He had triumphed over his past; had lived enough lives, endured enough years, to arrive at this moment.
This had to be the purpose of his existence: to share this part of his stay on earth with you.
âYouâre so hard,â you say, twisting your wrist at the tip of his cock, reveling in every buck of his hips, each movement a reflection of his exaltation. âGuess you did miss me.â
With a quiet growl, he reaches behind, nudging your thighs apart until they find your mound, cupping you through your underwear. âIâm not the only one whoâs been missinâ someone.â He pulls the fabric aside, sliding his fingers through your wet folds. His nostrils flare as he feels how ready you are. âWhy am I not surprised?â
Your breath hitches, and you press yourself closer against him, your tits against his back, mouth teasing at his neck. âThatâs what happens when youâre gone.â Another kiss on his nape. âYou could take me with you next time.â
âCanât do that,â he answers, teasing your entrance. âNo work would get done.â
His movements cease to a stop. Yours do too. Turning his head just enough to glance over his shoulder, he scrutinizes your expression, pride swelling in his chest as he takes in your affected state.
âYouâre not goinâ back to sleep, are you?â
Thereâs the shake of your head. A single word escapes your lips, imbued with pure fervor: âPlease.â
He captures your mouth in an ardent kiss, tugging at your shirt (which is, in fact, his) to undress you, his wandering hands roaming beneath it.
As his mouth meets your neck, something cold brushes against his lips, drawing his gaze down to whatâs hanging from your neck.
His dog tags. The ones he had given you before leaving for that job, as his way of telling you Iâm coming back without having to say it aloud. And you, as always, understood; had even promised to keep them safe, though he hadnât expected you to actually wear them.
Now, with your shirt discarded, they lay against your bare skin, his name resting in the valley between your breasts.
âYou like âem?â His fingers grip the chain and give it a gentle tug, drawing you closer so he can breathe over your lips, his breath mingling with yours. âLike knowing youâre mine? You get off on it?â
You nod in agreement. Of course, you do. Though emotionally constipated and not the most expressive, Logan is a lover who knows how to awaken desireâa good lover, indeed. A decent one.
Which is why he agrees to any idea that crosses your mind, like the one you just whispered in his ear.
He may be older than you, but heâs always been more on the traditional side. You, on the other hand, are continually searching for new ways to innovate.
The round globes of your ass jiggle over his face as he spreads you apart, entrenched by how your skin moves above him, your glistening hole clenching around nothing, as if your body itself is calling to him.
With his head propped against the headboard, he watches you take him deeper, your saliva dripping down the wiry hairs of his cock. The slick heat of your tongue traces over his slit, back and forth, driving him to the edge.
When he hears you gag, it stirs something inside himâa deep need to return the favor, to match your devotion.
At the end of the day, heâs a man on a mission, and right now, that mission is you.
Right there, with his nose and mouth buried in you, he wonders why he hadn't thought of this sooner. If he could choose a natural end like any other man, he'd wish for it to be by suffocationâyour body his last breath.
Logan inhales deeply, like a man starved, working two of his fingers inside your throbbing center, his tongue flicking relentlessly over your clit, punching moan after moan out of you. Each thrust of his fingers, each stroke of his tongue, sends waves of pleasure coursing through you.
His beard, streaked with gray, leaves a trail of fire wherever your hips meet his face, pushing back against him. Every so often, you pull off his cock just to ramble, panting, about how good he's making you feel.
From where he lies, youâre a sight to behold, nothing short of divine. âJust what I needed, doll. You taste so fuckinâ sweet,â he blurts out, your frantic cries pouring into his ears as he sucks the swollen bud between his lips. âCanât believe you let me do this to you. You love makinâ your old man happy, donât you?â
He used to think he'd burn in hell for indulging in the desire to know you like thisâraw, ungraceful.
His judgment must be fucked up, because now, all he sees in you is heaven incarnate. You must be the closest thing to it heâll ever find.
âShit, IâŠâ you trail off, gasping as he replaces his fingers with his tongue, drinking from your arousal and tasting every bit of you. âI thought about you every day.â
âBet you did, just like that night I called you. You know how I felt when you told me you were wearing my clothes?â His hand comes down with a firm slap on your right asscheek, drawing a whine from you as your movements falter. âCan smell you all over these sheets. Makes me wonder how many times you made yourself come while I was away.â
You slip the tip of his cock back in your mouth, your hands and lips working in sync. His nose brushes against the plush skin of your thighs before his teeth graze your flesh, biting down just enough to leave a sting. His fingers curl inside you, hitting that perfect spot again and again, and you moan around him, your throat vibrating against his length.
He makes you come like this, knuckles deep inside you while his thumb circles your clit. Overwhelmed by pleasure, you let go of his dick, and it hits Loganâs stomach with a wet pop. His strong arms tug you closer to his face, eyes falling closed as you ride the wave of your orgasm against his mouth, palms pressed flat on his chest.
For a brief moment, he canât breathe, canât feel anything but you, your scent, your taste filling his senses.
Later, he rolls you onto your back and climbs on top of you, uncertain of how much time he has spent lapping at your wetness. His hard length glides along your folds, and he lines himself up without pushing in, looking right into your eyes.Â
âRemember what I told you that night over the phone?â he asks, his breath coming in quick bursts, and you nod, head lolling back as he pinches your lower lip between his fingers. âRepeat it.â
âLoganââ
âYou say it, and Iâll make it happen.â
Perplexity clouds your features. âYou said youâd fuck me slow and deep, just h-how I like it. Face to face, becauseââ. The words escape you, a sob tearing through your throat as he eases the first few inches of himself inside you, your walls instinctively making space to wrap around him.
Heâs home.
âGo on. What else did I say?â he teases, relishing in it. Heâs guilty as sin. âOr were you too lost in thought touchinâ yourself?â
âF-face to face,â you slur, nails digging into his scarred back, and he keeps plunging his length into your interior to the hilt. Your lips part slightly, craving the kiss that only he can give you. âYou said youâd do it face to face so I could kiss you whenever I wanted.â
He hums, low in his throat, as he gives the first thrust of the night, taking great pleasure in your expression: open-mouthed, eyes scrunched, and a slight crease forming between your brows.
Smoothing his thumb over your forehead, he tsks, pausing his movements. âNone of that, princess. Look at me, câmon.â
You obey, forcing your eyes open, and in that instant, he swears he can feel every tremor coursing through you. âLogan,â you coo, your voice aching as you stretch your neck toward his mouth.
The way you say his nameâseductively, charged with a fascination that riles him upâmanages to ignite a fire only you can kindle. Itâs all the invitation he needs.
âI know. Too much, huh?â His tone drips with condescension, teasing in a way that feels almost cruel. He canât help it, though: itâs in very his nature. âNeed to hear you say it. Need you to tell me how much you want this.â
Like everything else in your world, your patience begins to wither, hips instinctively bucking beneath him, seeking even the slightest bit of friction. But he still withholds the kiss you long for, dangling it just out of reach.
âPlease,â you beg, voice breaking as you plead. âFuck me, baby. Missed you so much while you were away. Please, please, pleaseââ
Logan enjoys hearing you beg. He wonât pretend otherwise. There's a satisfaction in knowing he holds this power over you, that he's the only one who can unravel you this way, your body splayed open beneath him.
The thought of others who may have once been in his place, making you fall apart just like this, sets his blood on edge.
Jealousy, sharp and corrosive, crawls up his spine, and it spurs him on, guiding the tempo of his thrusts.
He wonders if heâs ever fucked you this fiercely before, with a passion that pulses from every part of him. Youâre given no space for thought, no moment to catch your breathâjust his unforgiving pace and the sounds spilling from your lips.
He has a way of breaking you down, turning you into a trembling, whimpering mess beneath him, and you surrender willingly, craving each second of it.
So fuckinâ tight. Can yâhear her? How badly she needs me?
Sex had never felt like this before. Heâd grown accustomed to quick, meaningless fucks in poorly lit bars, fleeting encounters that left him questioning if this was all there was. If this wasnât the best heâd ever know.Â
For a while, heâd tried to solve that emptiness, searching in nameless lovers and hollow hearts for the very thing he feared most: love.
And yet, he wanted it, yearned it, guarding his desire like a secret he barely admitted to himself. Until one day, you stumbled into his life, and all the strength he thought he had wasnât enough to push you away.
He presses deep into the back of your thighs, bringing your chests so close they're nearly brushing. Claiming your mouth in a maddening kiss, all teeth and tongue, leaving no space for softness. As he nibbles at your bottom lip, he feels you tighten around him, your cunt pulling him under, clouding his thoughts.
âClose?â he murmurs, hips snapping against you with an utterly obscene rhythm that drowns out the world, better than any song ever made. âSuch a good girl. Gonna come, sweetheart? Let me see how gorgeous you look when you fall apart, making a mess just for me.â
The constant, steady drag of his cock doesnât seem to get old for you. Heâs leaving his mark within you, inside you, carving a space for himself. His tip keeps hitting all the right spots, prompting you to tilt your pelvis to meet him halfway, telling him there, yes, there. More, please.
His hand slides down, rubbing your clit with his fingers. Doesnât need any extra help when doing so, your arousal providing all the slickness he needs. He feels like a runner on the final stretch, the finish line within reach, so close he can almost touch it, savoring the euphoria and bliss of crossing it.
The way you sing his name never loses its allure, despite all the times heâs heard it spill from your lips. Especially at this moment, with him buried deep inside you, every thrust a promise to make you feel good.
You shamelessly come while he keeps driving into you, vigorous and untamedâlike a caged animal unleashed, tasting freedom for the very first time.
Ankles digging into his lower back, a trail of persistent kisses along his beard. You want him inside, that much he can tell. Itâs not like he ever finishes anywhere else, but the reminder doesnât bother him. It only serves as a reassurance: that you still want this, want him. You havenât changed your mind.
He sinks his teeth into your neck the instant he feels his orgasm tearing through him, hips stilling and sagging as a string of grunts abandons his being, dampening your skin even more. He loves to fill you up, it consumes him entirely.
Such an intimate, visceral act, and then he gets to see his seed trickling down your thighs. He realizes that he doesnât need much to be happy.
You keep kissing him, his neck, his face. It may seem absurd to say that every kiss feels like the first, yet itâs true.
Even after heâs traced all the contours of your mouth and committed every detail of your body to memory, he canât help but feel that same thrill of excitement he experienced months ago when he dared to push beyond the boundaries he had set for himself.
Staring at each other, naked, all the love in the world seems to fill these four walls. The compassion and tenderness in your gaze remain unchanged. Youâre a dream come true.
It canât end like this. He canât allow you to drift back into sleep without saying what needs to be said. Something has to happen, something only he can conjure.
âI thinkâŠâ He hesitates. Starting with I think carries an air of uncertainty. âI donâtââ
âLogan,â you interrupt, your hand finding his. âI know.â
Yes, you do. You always seem to know everything, but that canât be enough. He canât lean on your unspoken understanding of his feelings.
âYou still deserve to hear it.â
âItâs not necessary.â
âIt is.â
More silence. The moon is the solitary spectator of his upcoming declaration.Â
âYou were right,â he begins, drawing your intertwined hands closer to his face, pressing a soft kiss on the back of yours. His voice drops to a murmur. Itâs not just his body that feels completely exposed anymore; something deeper within him stands bare. âIâm in love with you.â
You scrutinize him as if heâs revealing the secret to eternal life. Again, you kiss his cheek, cupping it gently with your palm.
âIt wonât get any better than this. There are no more layers to peel away, okay?â He offers explanations you never even asked for in the first place. âThis is what I am.â Much to his dismay, you overlook his choice of words: what instead of who.
He glances away, his gaze landing on the dog tags resting against your skin. The same old guilt threatens to engulf him, as it does each time without fail, and that seems to be your cue to lower yourself to his eye level, eyebrows raised.
âIâm not with you because Iâm waiting for you to change. I like you just as you are, Logan. And I want all of you, both the good and bad stuff.â A gentle smile breaks across your face as you stretch your arm to retrieve his glasses from the nightstand. Placing them on your nose, your eyes twinkle with contentment. âDo they look good on me?â
âYou donât need them yet.â
âThat doesnât mean I canât pull them off.â
âCome here,â he mutters, sighing when you nuzzle his chest, cradling your head between his hands. He ponders what to say, what to do next, but no clear idea sounds promising.
And so it gives you the chance to speak up: âYouâre not getting rid of me that easily.â
I hope I donât, he thinks to himself as he brushes your hair away from your face, fingers caressing your temples. I hope I never do.
dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! <3
#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#wolverine#logan howlett xmen#logan howlett smut#logan howlett fanfiction#logan howlett fic#james logan howlett#logan howlett x fem!reader#logan howlett x fem reader#the wolverine x reader#old man logan x reader#logan howlet x reader#old man logan#logan x reader#wolverine smut#logan howlett x f!reader#smut#fanfiction#fic: crawl home to her
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I never told my wife I had an ex-fianceeÂ
One thing I never told my wife is that I had a fiancee before her. Itâs a long story, so buckle up.
It was the year after I graduated college. I was dating my girlfriend, Stephanie, for a couple years and things were getting serious. At the time, I had my roommate, Joey, but he was a Craigslist roommate. We didnât know each other very well. If you asked me how I knew him aside from Craigslist, the answer is I didnât. He wouldnât even tell me where he grew up.
Now, no shit, on the day I was going to propose, tragedy struck. I adorned our apartment with candles and even set up a nice glass display with framed pictures of me and Steph on top. Before Steph came in, Joey walked in and tripped. He actually shattered the glass display and got some in his face. Steph came in a few minutes later as I was on the phone with 911. Fortunately, Steph is a nurse, so she was able to patch him up as the three of us went to the hospital together.
Joey would recover, but he had some issues with glass on his face. He needed some cotton gauze inside his eye, which fortunately the doctors were able to save.
Clearly, I put off my proposal for the time being, but Steph and I agreed to get married. Our engagement was hush hush. Stephâs hours were wonky so she took care of Joey when I wasnât around. And I shouldâve seen the red flags, but I ignored them. Theyâd hang out together with and without me. Theyâd be in Joeyâs room and lock the door.
One day, I came home and all of Joeyâs stuff was gone. He moved out. Steph wrote a note. The note said, âWe fell in love and weâre leaving together. Donât try to find us.â
I didnât listen and I searched, but true to the note, I couldnât find them. Iâll never know what happened.
Suffice to say,
if it hadnât been for Cotton-Eye Joe
Iâd have been married a long time ago.
Where did you come from, where did you go?
Where did you come from, Cotton-Eye Joe?
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matters of the heart â Nanami K.
summary: finding out your ex-boyfriend wrote a novel detailing your relationship isnât how you expected this week to go and to make matters worse everyone on the internet now thinks your âcharacterâ is a total bitch. you decide to pay your ex a visit, but can you do that without succumbing to your natural urges? well, no!
tags: 18+(MDNI/blank blogs) slight porn with plot, oral (f! receiving), brief nipple sucking, daddy kink, creampie, i guess nanami is a bit toxic in this lol, nanami might also be a bit ooc in here
to the moaners: has this been sitting in the draft for about 3-4 months? yes! but happy birthday month, kento đ. artwork by @/_3aem (twt); @ryomens-vixen (this was the fic I mentioned a while back) word count: 5.6k (yuck), I don't really like this
Iâm going to kill him, that was the only thing on your mind once you closed out of the novel. Normally, your weekends were spent relaxing with a fruity bubble-gum colored cocktail but today was different. Shoko called your phone at exactly 9:26 am claiming it was time she divulged some news to you. At exactly 9: 28am, she sent you an online copy of a book titled, âMatters of the Heartâ and told you it was nothing but a two or three hour read and then to call once you finished.Â
The book had a slow start and it seemed pretty average, just any old love story. Lately, anything was getting published and it seemed that was the case here â wait, you paused your reading and sat up straight. No. Just no. Something just clicked for you which led you to completely start over from page one.Â
The moment you finished, at exactly 1:01 pm, you grabbed a salmon colored low cut shirt and light washed jeans, slipped on your white shoes and hurried to get into your car. You didnât need to call her phone because you were going to talk to her face to face; this situation warranted a real conversation. It was nothing but a 17 minute drive to Shokoâs house, so when you arrived at exactly 1:18 pm, her door was already open. âTheyâre bashing me, Shoko. Fucking bashing! How could he do this to me?â Were the first words that flew out of your mouth, holding your phone close to her face so that she could see the reviews.Â
âWell, itâs not like anyone would know itâs you.â She yawned, handing you a cup of water â probably because of how crazy you looked â before she ushered you to a seat on the couch. A golden brown blanket was lazily thrown on the seat, which she hurried to move. You sat down and faced her with a look of what Shoko could only describe as pure sadness. She had seen you like this many times before, all because of one person.Â
âYou did.â You sniffled with an eye roll, you couldnât help but feel uncertain. Reading this book only brought back more uncomfortable feelings towards the breakup and him. You thought that you were over him and the memories that the book produced made you question everything. One question remained which is: Why?
She giggled drily. âHey, I read all his works. Pseudonym or not. He canât hide from me. Plus, I know you both and everything that went on. I was there too, remember?â She mumbled the last part. âMaybe this was his way of coping?â
âItâs been years⊠and I heard heâs announced a sequel. Shoko, a SEQUEL! Itâll be released later this year.â You spoke in a shaking watery voice while she rubbed your back in an attempt of comfort. Your mind could only think of what the reactions would be to your character in the sequel⊠insecurities that you never knew were there flooded your mind.
âThere was enough material for a sequel? I thought he covered everythingâŠâ Shoko rubbed her chin and looked deep in thought. You just stared at her, she couldnât be serious. âSorry, ignore me.â She shook her head ignoring your stare.
âDo I even confront him over this? A-and how would that make me look, like I still check on him right? Iâll look crazy and bitter⊠which apparently I am. Oh and Iâm bitchy and a âtotal cuntâ as theyâre putting online.â He didnât know just how much you changed, he missed your growth. Rubbing your eyes, you ask:âWhy did you tell me about this? What made you take so long⊠I just donât understand.â
âWell, at first⊠I didnât think youâd care.â Moving a strand of her nut-brown hair out of her face, she continued. âThen about a month ago, I decided it was right to tell you, just in case someone else pieced it together.â
âGojo read it then, huh?â You mentally cringed at the thought. It was the only person you could think of whoâd be so crude about it. He knew how damaging the breakup was for you but not as bad as Shoko knows. Now, youâre just grateful that she told you before he did.
âYep, so I figured that I had to tell you before he did.â She clicked her tongue. âBut letâs just calm down before you make any rash decisions on how to handle this.âÂ
âHe wrote a fucking duality series about me, our relationship, our sex life and you want me to calm down? Are you listening to yourself? This is a serious matter. I am being called a bitch, a slut and more on Goodreads and multiple websites, reviews, etc. and he didnât even have the audacity to give me a heads up. You had to call me.â You let out an unladylike snort.âWhy couldnât he stick to his mystery novels? Wasnât he doing good at those?â
âWriter's block.â Shoko said in a singsong-like voice. âHe hadnât written a mystery book since you two broke up and then⊠he alerted his supporters he wanted to switch things up and then⊠that was that. Ladies loved it, a big hit. By the way, if you two were really fucking like that I need to seââ
âShoko, now is not the time!â Your face felt hot all over, your mind racing. âI just canât believe this.â You wrapped your arms around your body and squeezed, giving yourself one big squeeze. It was hard not to cry but you could feel it all in your throat.Â
âIâm sorry. If it makes you feel any better, I donât think his intentions were to make you feel bad.â She hugged you to her chest, pressing a small kiss to the crown of your head. âI think he still loves you. I mean, isnât this book proof? After all these years, he wrote about you.âÂ
âIâm sure he moved on by now.â You whispered, your eyes growing tired already and the day had barely started. âI just need to lay down. I need to rest.â Your mind seemed to finally grow calm and your breathing steady, a small hiccup now in your throat but with a gulp of water, you were better.
âJust stay here. I donât trust you to be alone right now.â Shokoâs voice drowned out as sleep overtook you, you could only feel her warmth as she held you and honestly it was all you needed at this moment, Shoko always made you feel safe and you couldnât thank her more than enough for that right now as you slept.
You were a light sleeper, it was always something that Nanami pointed out about you. He always said how he felt like he couldnât leave the room while you slept even if it was to use the bathroom afraid to wake you. He knew how important sleep was to you and heâd risk having a bladder infection if you got all 8 hours that you required. Nanami was sweet and caring like that.Â
You didnât think youâd break up with him ever. He was the one for you and he always made that clear. He pampered you and even after the breakup â though you didnât need it â he left you with a check for five thousand dollars, saying it was for his half of the lease for the next few months.Â
The breakup was brutal for you. You almost quit working entirely. Shoko was the only person youâd confined into and the only friend you left to check in on you especially when you didnât want to leave the house. She brought you groceries and helped you shower until you finally were able to get up again.
Though it was hard to believe, it was Nanami who broke up with you. You thought it was a joke, a cliche little joke.Â
âBaby, Iâm not joking.â His voice was quiet and husky, he spoke as if he was going to cry. âI just need some time to myself. I need to figure out if this is what I want. You donât have to wait for me, you just keep on living your life and being happy. But⊠I think itâs time we let this go.âÂ
You didnât cry in front of him. You didnât cry when he packed his things up. You certainly didnât cry when he shut the door, leaving his key on the table because you knew he was joking. He had to be. But when you called him and his number was disconnected and you were blocked on any form of social media⊠that was when you broke down and cried.Â
It happened out of nowhere. You overanalyzed every aspect of your relationship for where you went wrong. You wrote down every conversation you could remember and dissected it word by word. You watched every video and picture you had of the two of you looking for a bit of regret or anything on his face. You read every text message, looking for malice. He said he needed time to figure out if he wanted this but he always made it clear that he did and even that he was looking forward to having kids together, you two had even gone ring shopping months ago.Â
You didnât sleep and when you did, it was only for 4 hours and sometimes barely that. Your heart had an ache in it and the tears wouldnât stop. You could only think why wasnât I enough?
When you opened your eyes Shoko was still holding you and a small smile grew on your lips. âThank you Shoko.â You knew if you could count on anyone, it was always going to be her. She was the one who pieced you back together and made sure that life didnât destroy you and you couldnât help but to be grateful.Â
âOf course. âM going to let you spend the night here, okay? Letâs get some takeout and watch your favorite movies, howâs that sound?â She knew the way to your aching heart like the back of her hand.Â
âIt sounds amazing!â You stretched your arms out wide, leaning off of her and sitting up. âShould we start with Uptown Girls or Legally Blonde?âÂ
It took two days before you confronted him. Shoko was adamant about not giving you his address and you were tempted to get it from her phone. But luckily, you wore her down, she was probably tired of you bringing him or his book in every conversation. So now you stood there, nerves washing over you in waves.
The mahogany colored door stared at you â mocked you â and you returned the glare before you knocked on it, hard. This was just a door and you were angry at the person behind said door, not the door itself.Â
It was almost like he was waiting on you because the door unlocked and opened. He even stepped aside to let you in, quiet. His straw-colored hair was parted differently and he even looked taller or broader â you couldnât completely tell â but he looked different⊠seemed different. The atmosphere around him made your stomach clench and it made you mad; why did it feel like only you suffered from the breakup? Here he was â strong and tall â and you were nothing or rather the same.
âYou wrote a romance erotica novel about our relationship?â It was what you practiced saying before you got out of your car â making sure your voice didnât tremble â this time, it didnât.Â
âWell, hello to you too. Even after three and a half years, you still like to get straight to the point.â He grinned, putting a hand on your back to guide you to a seat on his couch. âI must ask, what makes you think itâs about you?â He does a slight laugh and raises his brow.
âWe have the same initials, almost the same name. Are you kidding me?â You retort, folding your arms across your chest. You tried to ignore the fuzzy feeling in your chest that occurred when you heard his voice after so long, hearing him and seeing that damned smile⊠your nose scrunched up.
âSorry, I just didnât know you kept up with me⊠with my booksâŠâ He muttered, glancing your way, a demure look in his amber eyes. âShould I be flattered?â Almost in an instant, he turned on a slight cockiness to himself, though his body language showed his nervousness â his thigh bouncing a bit and his fingers tapping on the couch handle. A light sense of relief filled your system knowing that you werenât the only one being affected by this.
âI donât.â You inhaled deeply. âShoko told me about it and then, I checked it out.â Fiddling with your fingers and even picking at your nails, that was your tell all sign of nervousness and right now you were engaging in it more than ever before.Â
âI wanted to tell you or rather, to ask you. I know you got the voicemails I sent last yearâŠand then you kept dodging my calls.â He tells you, you could feel his eyes on you â or more so your fingers⊠the nasty habit that he had finally got you to stop all those years ago rushing right back in an instant.
âWriting a book to trash me and our relationship⊠to make you look like some sort of⊠ugh, like youâre so amazing and Iâm just shit. Yeah, that certainly got my attention.â If you were coming off bitchy or rude right there, you couldnât care less especially when there were worse things that you couldâve said or even couldâve done at this moment. You really wanted to slap him.Â
âIs that all you got out of it?â He asks with his head low, almost as if he was admitting defeat or as if he couldnât believe you came up with something so trivial.Â
âWas there anything else to get?â You counter, shifting your body towards him. Maybe it was best that you sat down and actually listened to the author and his interpretations of his work.
âHow about that I love you regardless of any flaws⊠how about I find your stubbornness and attitude sexy and how I knew this breakup would be good for you. I was holding you back. I mean, I heard you got promoted 3 times since we broke up⊠I just felt like I was changing you, hindering your growth. I needed to reflect on myself and this book helped that.â He tapped his fingers against his thigh, yet another sign of his anxiousness. âBelieve it or not, I still care about you. No matter what happened between us.â
âWhat happened? You mean when you decided to just leave? You could've told me everything you just told me and I wouldâve understood better. We couldâve talked and came to a compromise. You donât understand what you put me through after it.â You were close to tears but you straighten your posture and sniffled, it was best not to think about what happened before. âI just needed a bit of closure too, I guess thatâs why I came. I just was caught off guard. You couldâve knocked on my door or something, forced me to answer⊠forced me to talk.â
He met your eye for the first time since you came over. âYou wouldnât have listened,â He huffs. âDidnât I mention how stubborn you are? Plus, I meant what I said. I needed time to myself and I think we both did.â
âI guessâŠBut Nanami, this book was too much. A letter wouldâve been fine if you needed closure, donât you think?â You see his lips quirk up a bit before he licks them, trying not to laugh it seems.
âMy publisher got a hold of some of the documents where I was just going over things, writing here and there. She loved the idea⊠plus Iâm in a contract for six books so I had to put something out soon, it had already been a year.â He told you, sitting his chin on top of his knuckles. âI honestly didn't mean to hurt you. I was writing for fun⊠reminiscing about us and then later down the line, I realized I was writing because I wanted you to read it, I just didnât exactly know how to get you to since you were very adamant on avoiding me, which is understandable. But regardless, I didnât think itâd get on the bestseller list or for the reviews to get so harsh.â He admits, reaching for your hand before his hand froze in midair and he stopped himself, choosing instead to put it behind his head.
âIs there anyway you can stop the sequel from being published then⊠since you got my attention after all this time?â You asked, putting your most dazzling smile on, hoping to sway him.Â
âI can talk to my publisher. Everythingâs in print and materials are already done⊠but Iâll try to see if I can stop production.â His adamâs apple bobbles when he does a harsh swallow. âAre we⊠okay? Do you forgive me?â
The question made you pause. He always made it hard for you to not forgive him; it took one look or a smile and a small explanation and it made it easy to fall in love with him all over again, no matter what he did⊠it seems. But it made you ask yourself: Were you too easy? Did you really forgive him? It was thoughts like that swirling around the corners of your mind. You wanted to forgive him, he was just writing and telling a story⊠but it was your story, not just his. Using this for your attention when he couldâve written about anything else, he didnât have to. Were you just ready to forgive him because you still loved him?Â
You hadnât realized how deep in thought you were until you felt the couch dip and even then, your mind was still spirling.âYou donât have toâŠâ His voice brings you out of your thoughts, his body so close to yours that it was getting hard to breathe. He still smelled the same; citrus and woodsy and it was easy to get yourself sucked back in.Â
âSo you can write another book about my stubbornness?â You give a quiet giggle, scooting a bit away from him, seeing him frown from the corner of your eyes. You didnât want to fall back but he made it all so simple. It was easy and you were already falling back on him and you didnât need that⊠Did you?
âBabyâŠâ Your body buzzed and hummed, turning to him with wide eyes. âIâll do anything I can to make this right. Anything for you to forgive me⊠If they canât stop publication, what can I do to make us right?â He was doing more than a gaze, he was full on staring and from how close he was it was hard to avoid.Â
âNanami Iââ You stopped yourself. You couldnât really think of anything he could do but you could think of several unhealthy things you could do to ruin your progress on going over him. He had betrayed you and made you a laughing stock so why are you stuck thinking about forgiveness when you should be leaving.
âI never stopped loving you.â His fingers traced up and down your pants but his eyes stayed on yours. âI never thought about anyone but you⊠I never slept with anyone⊠itâs always been you. But, I understand what I put you through and Iâll apologize every second until you forgive meâŠâ The blond man who you never saw shed a tear looked more than close to it. âBut just please⊠forgive me.â
âIâm sorry, honest.â He tries again after being met with absolute silence. âJust⊠let me show you, okay?â His breath tickles your face for a second and when you look into his cocoa brown eyes, you feel everything you once felt again.
Memories of good times dulls out the odd feelings in the pit of your stomach â the confusion and pain â instead are replaced with joy. The trip to Malaysia where he rubbed sunscreen on your entire body and laid back to read a book and you watched as his eyes kept drifting to you while you played in the cerulean water; how you kept begging him to come in until he complied and how eventually in the early hours of the morning when you wanted another dip, he fucked you twice â once in the golden lush sand and another in the cool ocean water.Â
His face is in your thighs and you couldnât help but feel better, feeling his breath fanning so close to your pants covered pussy, your body felt scorching hot. Heâs grumbling, âWill you let me make it up to you? Will you let me show you how sorry I am?âÂ
You mustâve nodded because he was already unbuttoning your pants and helping you lay back, pulling your shirt up just a bit to see your perky tits â he mustâve remembered how you never wore bras unless you felt it was necessary, which was mainly work or any important events.Â
He blew a bit on your hardening nipples before he took one into his mouth â playing biting them with a smug look on his face before he began licking around your areolas and kissing around the swells of your breast. He doesnât say anything but he looks deep in thought as he kisses down your body, his fingers scraping down your sides as he works your pants and your panties all the way down. Bringing his head up for a minute, he looks in your face. âI love you.â He says it simply, heavy emotions swirling in his brown eyes.
Removing your pants and underwear completely from your body, he spreads your thighs and looks over your body â a trimmed low pretty bush sits between your thighs and it makes him smile, he always loved seeing the curled hair on your delicate lower lips. He spreads your pussy, watching the skin stretch with a deep smile on his face. You could feel yourself ⊠the wetness leaking down under your body and it made you cringe, but the way he was staring at you made the insecurities vanish. âAll this for me?â He takes a tentative lick before he slurps, clutching your hips. âI know you like to run⊠but I need you to stay put, got it?â It was hard for you to listen to him, your head already fuzzy and the thoughts swirling around were only about him, nothing more.Â
Then your body bucks up, âWaitâ!â A broken moan escapes your mouth when he presses a soft wet kiss to your clit. Nanami had always been gentle and very careful whenever he ate you out; making sure his tongue was wet enough and that he wasnât too rough. His tongue was wide enough to make your back arch, your body leaving the couch when it finally hit your clit and he gave you no time to recover before he peeled back the hood, sitting the tip of his tongue there and rapidly flicked at the bud.Â
Hearing the lewd squelching noises coming from the mixture of your cunt and his mouth made you close your eyes, squeezing them shut tightly. He spits before he licks it up and down your aching slit, nudging his tongue inside only slightly, much to your dismay. Youâre gasping every second when more of his tongue slips in and out of your pussy; sliding a bit more each time and it makes your thighs shake. When he finally slips his entire tongue inside of you, curling it just enough that you can feel it everywhere, your legs attempt to close up around his head. âPleaseâ âm so⊠sooâohâŠâ His fingers join in on the fun and in small sloppy circles he rubs your clit, pressing down on the pearl while his tongue continues flicking inside of you. The split second that you open your eyes, his are already on yours and it was that moment, that made your body tense up and for you to cum.Â
It happens fast, clear sticky wetness leaks out of you and Nanami still tries to get more of it on his tongue, catching anything that drips and sucking on your folds. âAlways so fucking goodâŠâ He mutters, spreading you again and smearing more of your slick on his face by shaking his head between your thighs, so that heâs completely covered in you.Â
When he moves his head, embarrassment comes over you, looking at his wet face⊠even his forehead was wet and you couldnât bring yourself to meet his eyes. âNothing to be embarrassed about, baby but⊠Iâll be right back, stay wet for me.â
Your heart hammers against your chest, lying there on this now wet couch. You didnât come over here for this and yet here you are⊠about to get fucked and really, it was no turning back now. Youâd been on dates with men after Nanami but they never lasted past the second date and you certainly hadnât had sex in a while, but he made you come apart like it was nothing. Â
But then again, Nanami knew your body⊠so of course this was a walk in the park for him. It honestly annoyed you right now, you couldnât even make yourself cum half the time especially these last few years and now, barely an hour here and he has you right where he wanted you⊠bare and practically back in love with him.
Nanami came back with a fresh face and unbuttoned pants that he was currently pulling down. You clenched around nothing, your mind thinking only of the perfect dick that was going to be coming out of those pants. You licked your lips, this would be the first dick you saw in years and it was his.Â
His drooling cock slapped his stomach and you swallowed, your mouth felt unreasonably dry. The length of his cock always impressed you, standing tall at seven and a half inches, he shakes with laughter which snaps you out of your daze. âNow let me look at you.â His whispers and even though he already saw you, both years ago and right now, you canât help but feel hot all over again. Heâs staring â drawing his eyes down every inch of your body â focusing on your breast before getting to the stare of the show yet again. He smirks, laying you back down, pressing his body against yours to kiss you.Â
Your breath was caught in your throat, his tongue still tasted of you and his hands cups your jaw. Heâs gentle, his tongue moving around your mouth messily before he stops, saliva breaking apart when he does so. His fingers make a ghostly featherlight touch on your clit that makes you jump, the head of his cock at your entrance. He holds out his hand, close to your mouth. âSpit.â Gathering up some, you spit in the palm of his hand and stroke it along his length, huffing at the sensation.Â
He pushes in, taking his time to work himself inside of you, a strained expression on his face. Hips pulled back, he focuses more on just the tip of himself fucking you, watching your pussy stretch with just the tiniest bit of resistance. Inching himself inside, you watch his torso flex and he groans, obscene noises plop and plap around the apartment, his heavy cock pushing in and out of you, your toes curling.Â
âPussy still mines, right? Didnât give it away, did you?â Youâre struggling to talk - to fucking breathe - your eyes rolling back and your jaw slacked but you babble out a soft ânoâ which makes him finally thrust in you harder, completely bottoming out. You feel him in your belly, feeling full and embarrassingly wide with him stretching you out, his balls sitting on the crest of your ass before he moves.Â
He moves you a bit, your bodies flush to each other and he moves his hips in harsh circles, his pelvis so close to your clit. His hands on your calves, he pushes your legs so that they rest on his shoulders, your knees touching your ears makes you tighten up and he groans above you.
âNanami I-â You call out, eyes closed with pleasure shaking through your core, wetness slapping between the both of you.Â
âNanami? No, call me what you used to call me.â His hips slowed down, a whine escaping your lips. His cock dragging inside of your walls, pulling out slowly, awaiting your response.Â
âPleaseâŠdonât slow down, Kenââ before the word even left your lips, his hand slapped your cunt, leaving your legs shaking a bit and your eyes snapping open. Drops of tears run down your cheeks and you sniffle, reaching for him⊠you couldnât help but feel so small in his presence.
âSay it.â Then, you knew what he meant. A name that now feels foreign in your brain and even when it leaves your mouth, it comes out in a strange rattled whimper.
âOh, oh⊠daddy, âm sorry. Please, keep fucking me. Itâs so goooood!â Heâs grinning before the words leave your mouth.
âStill my good girl huh? Always so fucking good for daddy.â He licks up your neck and it makes you tremble, your tongue lolling out a bit and he moves to suckle on it. âDid you skip over all those sex scenes or did you rub this pussy out to them?â He asks, his fingers digging in the back of your thighs.Â
You choked out, sobbing, âI did, daddy⊠But I-I donât want to remember everything.âÂ
âYou donât remember all the words I used to describe this cunt? This pretty pussy? That changed his life⊠my life? That made him always crawl back? That made him so fucking hard? The pretty words I used to describe you? To describe how pretty she always looked when he fucked her? How his heart felt like it was going to explode when she looked at him too long because he loved her so damn much?â Heâs groaning in your ear, thrusting into you, his depth reaching your g-spot, your pussy spasming and begging for his cum at every word he uttered.Â
Pumping himself inside, you could see the white creaminess that was on his cock, most likely because of you, he was constantly fucking the cream inside of you, your nails digged into his arms and he moaned at the feeling. Your stomach tightens and you move to push him away, âIâm going to câcum!â You felt him throbbing inside of you, signaling that he was close too. âPlease, cum inside of me⊠I canât take it.â You couldnât stand it any longer, itâs been years and you needed him to fill you up. He stopped for a moment, changing positions so that youâll be sitting on his lap, grabbing your hips and forcibly bouncing you on his dick, dangerously slow.Â
Wetness gushes on him as his tip hits you from a new angle, seeing the outline of him in your tummy, heâs stretching you again with each nasty thrust. Each drag of his cock making you go crazy and the aching between your legs continue, your body shaking and both of you moaning loudly and over each other.Â
Finally, your orgasm rattled and shook your entire body, your pussy sucking him in, milking him for all heâs worth and it makes his body shake and he releases inside of you, trying to stay quiet as his body jerks up, unable to stop himself from fucking you through both of your orgasms.
Itâs quiet for a while, just heavy breathing with you laying on his chest. âI love you tooâŠâ Your voice is scratchy and your face tear stained. He doesnât say anything, his cock still pulsing inside of you.
âI know. I love you too, never stopped.âÂ
âDid you at least read the acknowledgements or did you just dive right in?â
âI never read the acknowledgements for books, thought you wouldâve remembered that.â You watch him get up, walking around the living room, looking for something. You were both still naked and the entire room smelled of sex.Â
âI did remember that and when you barged in my door, I already knew that you still hadnât changed when it came to that. Here, read this part right here.â He brings you over a copy and you run your fingers around the softback cover with a small smile on your face; this silly thing had brought you both back together and right now you could give less than a fuck about those reviews.Â
Feeling the spine of the book, you open it and can practically smell the scent of an unopened new book. Turning the first few pages, you go to the one page acknowledgment and read it aloud: âShe might not read this book. But if she does, by chance. I hope she knows that I still love her.â You wiped your eyes and smiled. âYouâre an asshole, you know?â
He lets out a hearty laugh, âI know baby.â Kissing the top of your head, he gets up and grabs his phone from the kitchen counter and you follow him. âI think I have enough material to write a third book now.â He grabs his phone and starts typing, his eyebrows furrowed as if he was deep in thought. Attempting to grab his phone he chuckles and uses his height to his advantage by standing taller.
Standing on the tips of your toes you snort, âDonât even joke about that!â But a smile takes over your face and he canât help but smile too.Â
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NIGHT-SHIFT (p.sh)
Sunghoon, a keen and professional man between the hours of 8 AM to 5 PM. ServiceKing, a faceless and proud man between the hours of 9 PM to 12 AM. Sunghoonâs secret night-life has nothing to do with the faces he sees day after day...until it does. or the one where you pay for a one on one call with a faceless cam guy youâve been watching for a little while, and the next day your boss is avoiding you like the plague.Â
minors dniÂ
PAIRING â boss / cam boy!sunghoon x afab reader Â
WORDCOUNTâ 4.5k
WARNINGSâ dub-con since reader doesnât know itâs him.Â
CONTENTâ office setting, sunghoon is a service top/soft-dom/whatever his clients need lol
 NOTE â this was supposed to be a drabble, but i just....it needed a little more plot sorry. it's not very good, like fr this is not up to par with what I wanted... but i wrote it so im gonna post it.
nsfw tags under cut
nsfw tagsâ dubious consent, cam sex/virtual sex, dirty talk, masturbation instructions, ummâŠfinger fucking, jerking off, fantasies, role-play type stuff
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What are the chances? Honestly, what are the fucking chances?
Sunghoon sits up quickly from his relaxed position upon hearing a voice far too familiar on the other end of this call. Heâs lucky he doesnât have his camera on just yet, youâd have seen the embarrassing reaction toâŠwellâŠhearing you of all people.
He knows the world can be small sometimes, but this is too small for comfort as he hears your muttered voice through the microphone again.
âSo, what am I supposed to do?â You say.Â
âAh, uhââ Sunghoon pauses. Thereâs no way itâs actually you. Can you not recognize his voice too? âWhat type of call did you request again?âÂ
âFull service.â You remind him.Â
Oh. Youâre into this kind of thing? That pretty, well-mannered employee of his? The one who sips coffee quietly at her desk while actually responding to her emails? The one who never shows up to co-ed parties? The one who always dresses appropriately and addresses him in a timid way?
YouâŠjust paid a cam-boy to get you off in full? Not just any cam-boy either, you paid him?
God, his cheeks are so heated at the arousing thought. Never once has he ever imagined you in any scenario that doesnât involve excel spreadsheets and finances. Arguably, youâve probably never thought of him all spread out fucking his fist either butâŠyouâve blatantly seen him do it already.
He wonders how long youâve been seeing this part of him, how long youâve been getting yourself off all alone while he puts on a show for hundreds, and sometimes, thousands of people.Â
As detrimental as this is, itâs his job to do this. You paid him to do it, just like how he pays you to do your job. He canât be letting this hold him back. No, in fact, he needs to get this hour long session over with as quickly as fucking possible.Â
âRight,â Sunghoon lends a chuckle, nervous sounding on his end but to you it just sounds cheeky. âCan I get your name, babe?âÂ
Youâre quiet at first, never having done this before and absolutely not wanting this random horny guy to know who you are. Honestly, you already requested that only he turns his camera on during this call as well. As if youâd give out your real name. You give him a name that rhymes with your own instead, and thereâs another chuckle after.Â
He knows youâre lying. Out of all the employees that are under him, youâre the one he has to correspond with the most. After all, youâve been up for the promotion to being his assistant for the past three months. He knows that isnât your name.Â
 Smart girl, just like he knew you were.Â
âIs that so?â He tilts his head at his blank screen in amusement, watching the microphones light up with each breath. âAlright, and youâll do everything I say, yes?âÂ
You nod to no one, realizing he canât see you and instead giving him a hum and gentle words of âof course.â
His image flashes across your screen just moments later. The same as his usual streams. Face out of frame, hand strong and willing, his cock out and on displayâ only half hard.Â
âListen to me very carefully,â Sunghoon calls out now, as if to show you that itâs time to begin, your almost-name falling from his lips shortly after. âDonât hold your breath, you paid good money for this, and I want to hear you.â
Oh man, this is embarrassing for you to be doing this. But truly, anything at this point is better than another night all alone.Â
And he does hear you. Relishing in that voice he hears day to day reciting memos and budgets, only this time, youâre calling out pleasurable reactions to how he tells you to fuck yourself.Â
Heâs good at it too. You canât help but listen to every word, touching and massaging when he instructs you to, stopping just short of orgasm for him to ask, âThat feels good, doesnât it? Wish you had me doing it for you, isnât that right?âÂ
Always using the fake name. Giving you full-service by the end of the call.Â
Safe to say, youâre feeling refreshed by the next morning as you ready yourself for work, wanting very much to book the infamous ServiceKing again.Â
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Fuck, he canât even look at you. Not after the way he got off last night.Â
Not after hearing you moan out the way you did while he simultaneously imagined you all spread out on his desk for him. Not after hearing the fucking wet between your legs as you frantically tried to cum when he told you to.Â
Not after you did cum for him.Â
âMr. Parkââ You chime through his door, not quite noticing the way he stiffens in his seat.Â
God, if you had called him that last nightâŠ
âHm?â He composes himself by acting bored and uninterested in whatever papers you have held tightly against your chest. âWhat is it?â
âI got the statements back from our parent company, I thinkââ
âGreat. Just set them down on my desk.â He cuts you off, patting his desk before hoping you get the fuck out of his office before he ends up breaking office rule number one.
What is office rule number one, you might ask? Never fuck a co-worker. Whatâs worse is that youâre not his fucking co worker. Youâre his employee.
You raise a brow at his demeanor this morning. The usual not-so-up-tight Sunghoon appearing far too distracted today compared to usual. Most mornings, heâll at least give you a smile and a âthank you.âÂ
âMr. Park, is there anything I can get for you?â You ask with concern in your voice.
Sunghoon pauses every thought in his head as he looks at you. Narrowing his eyes and wondering if maybe heâs just overreacting. Maybe he's mistaken and that girl from last night isnât you at all. After all, thereâs plenty of people with the same pitch in their voice. She didnât even turn on her camera, and she gave him a different name anyway.Â
Maybe he just wishes it was you.Â
âNo, Iâm fineââ He says, mistakenly calling out the fake name rather than your actual name.Â
You miss the way his eyes widen for a split second before correcting himself to your real name.Â
âAh, my apologies. Got a little tongue tied.âÂ
You stand there in shock. No way in hell he just called you by the name you spoofed to a cam-boy last night. Coincidences can be so weird, and being called that hits you a little too close to home.Â
It feels awkward in the room now and both of you play it off as a genuine mistake. Though, to you, it has to be a genuine tongue-tied version of your name. Sunghoon couldnât possibly know about that. Besides, he appears to be more tired than usual anyway, soâŠyou choose to believe itâs a crazy coincidence.Â
You give him a nervous chuckle as you wave yourself off and out of the room with a small âItâs okay, you know where I am if you need anything.â
What he needs is to watch his fucking mouth. What he needs is to stop thinking about how you just reacted to being called that. What he needs is to pretend that none of this is happening and do his goddamn work.Â
And he tries. He really does. Unfortunately, his eyes go from blurs of numbers and words on spreadsheets to the window of his office. Just outside of it. You.
How is he supposed to focus after kind of, accidentally, practically fucking you? Sure, he never touched you butâŠit really was you. The way you reacted to that name was so telling, and he canât help but actually check you out now.Â
You, with that body. You got off to him, with those legs of your spread out while staring into a screen. All alone, listening to his voice, moaning for himâŠand now youâre just sitting there in your business casual outfit like heâs not unintentionally getting hard.Â
So, he avoids you. At all fucking costs, he avoids you.Â
You get up from your desk? So does he, making sure that if you start coming his way, heâs walking out and in the opposite direction. You send him an email? Out of office, despite clearly sitting at his desk. You call his phone to ask a question? He forwards you to his current assistant.Â
And this happens for days. To the point you know that promotion is slipping from your fingers.Â
Naturally, youâre frustrated with the office-dynamic. After all, youâve heard rumors of picking favorites. You thought you were one of them, but it appears that Sunghoon may just decide to try and beg his current assistant to stay with bribes of double pay.Â
Youâre more frustrated as the days go by. Leaving work yet again with no good-byes from the boss who used to show appreciation for how hard you worked. Heâs colder than usual, heâs stiffer than usual, heâsâ a fucking asshole these days.
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Ping!Â
Sunghoon stares at his secret email in disbelief.Â
NEW REQUEST FROM: [your email/username]
$500 PENDING.Â
FULL SERVICE.
Requester note: work has been hard lately, will you help me de-stress for a little while?Â
[ACCEPT REQUEST] Â [DECLINE REQUEST]
Sunghoon hovers over the decline button for a solid thirty seconds as he burns a hole through his screen. Work has been hard for you lately, huh? Has it now? Try being him.Â
He shifts his mouse to the accept button, wondering if he even needs that extra five hundred dollars. Those funds just to suffer more at work? Just to suddenly have the need randomly throughout his day to make you moan for him? Just to have the sounds of your pretty voice echoing in his head more and more the longer he ignores you?Â
His finger clicks, hitting the accept button as he lets out an exasperated sigh.Â
Why did he just do that?
Wait.Â
Maybe this will help him get through the work weeks. Fucking you through words alone in secret, never telling you who he is, always letting you use him even if itâs just through audio and visual stimulation.Â
After all, if you found out who ServiceKing is, you very well may quit. Hell, you might get him fired. Fuck.
This is dangerous.Â
Yet, he feels the excitement in his gut before it even hits his cock as the clock ticks. He gets to hear you again soon, you get to watch him cum again soon, heâoh, heâs so turned on right now just thinking about it.
And the time comes too slowly for his liking. He feels as if heâs been edged by the time the two of you enter the call and heâs immediately turning his camera on.Â
âAh, look who it is,â Sunghoon starts, already positioning himself with a raging hard cock on the screen. âHad me wondering if youâd come back to me.â
You donât know why your cheeks heat up, but the feeling in your gut is miles better than the frustration and anxiety that you felt throughout the day.Â
âI was wondering the same thing,â You speak into the mic meekly, hiding your face despite knowing he canât see it. âI just need to get my mind off of stuff for a little while.âÂ
âOh yeah?â Sunghoon chuckles into the mic, his face perfectly hidden. âWanna give me some context? Maybe I can use some of the information forââ
âGod.â You immediately start, shutting the man up on the other side of the screen in an accidental frustration-dump. This is not what you paid him for, but you still appreciate the space to release your brain before, well, your cum. âMy fucking boss.â
Sunghoonâs ears perk up, lazily stroking himself as you continue with a frantic voice.Â
âI swear he just flipped on me. I thought I was doing so good, I thought I was gonna get that new position, but now heâs just ignoring me and treating me like some temp or something.âÂ
Sunghoon hums lowly, listening intently to the way you bring him into conversation to a man thatâŠunfortunately, is that very same boss.
âHmm, thatâs interesting.â Sunghoon continues palming himself as he soothes you through your frustrations. âYour boss isnât praising you.âÂ
You pause, feeling a ping in your gut.Â
âIf I were him, Iâd praise you every dayââ Sunghoon softens his voice. âEvery night.â
âOhâŠâ You listen to his words, feeling your frustration melt out of you in an instant as you now focus on the way his cock twitches through the screen.Â
âWouldnât let you go a second without thinking of how good I am to you.â He continues, both hyping himself and degrading his day-time self. âIf I were your bossââ
You interrupt his words with a very quiet groan, he fucking heard it.
âMm, you like that?â He smiles to himself, gripping the base of his cock and thrusting up to show the full size to you. âThe thought of your boss liking you a little too much?â
You hum. Not that youâve ever thought about it too deeply, but now that heâs said it, praising you, putting down your actual boss, telling you what heâd do if he were him?Â
You guess, for tonight anyway, youâre into it.Â
âWhatâs his name, babe?â Sunghoon asks, wondering if youâll actually out his name to a stranger.Â
âPark Sunghoon.â You expose him instantly, full name and all, even with a bit of bite in your voice.Â
Damn.
âOh, yeah?â Sunghoon draws back, jerking his hand up once. âIâd fuck you better than Park Sunghoon.âÂ
You smile at the thought, imagining yourself with more power than Sunghoon has. Like youâre his boss, youâre the one dangling a promotion just out of reach before giving it to someone else.Â
âSee this?â The man on the screen grunts out to you, fucking tight thrusts into his fist. âWatch me, baby, get a good look.â
And you do watch. Intensely, you stare at his big cock, the head of it darkened and leaking with each pass of his hand. Youâre not even touching yourself at this point, but itâs like you can feel the force of it.
âNow, I need you to open those legs for me.â He instructs you.Â
You do as he says much like before, letting your legs fall open but not yet letting yourself touch. You still sigh at the movement, your panties alone shifting were enough to make you want to hump your hips up.Â
âNow, turn on your camera.â
Silence. Your ears ring momentarily at the words as you immediately close your legs.
âWhat?â You ask in a higher-pitched tone than usual. âI requested for no c-â
âNo.â Sunghoon mutters, shifting his position to lean towards the microphone and whispering now. âYou do as I say.âÂ
He hears you huff at his words, but he hears the shifting around on your end.Â
âI want to see that pussy open for me.â He continues in that same low-rumbled voice. âI want to see what Park Sunghoon is missing out on.â
You donât know what it is about this situation that turns your discomfort into pure, rushing arousal. Never in your life have you ever considered fucking yourself on camera, especially after paying someone else to do it for you, yetâÂ
âDo I have to show you my face?â You ask quietly, already trying to find a lower-face-mask just to be safe in case you lose your composure and accidentally reveal yourself.Â
âNo,â Sunghoon assures you through a deep breath. âI already told you what I want to see.â
More silence save for the shuffling he still hears on your end.Â
âOpen your legs and turn it on.â He encourages you now, keeping his hand still on himself as he waits to see if youâll actually do it.
AndâŠ
Oh fuck.
âThere she is.â Sunghoon hums, trying to keep his composure at the way you give him access. Honestly, he didnât think you would, but you do, and all he can do is lay himself back again, staring straight at the image of you.Â
Your face is out of frame much like he is but this is the first time heâs ever seen you with so little clothing on. No bra, thin tank top, no shorts or pants, just panties. It takes everything in him not to moan out at the image.Â
After all, itâs confirmed to be you.Â
Fuck, thatâs you right there.Â
âAlready so wet too?â Sunghoon groans now, focusing on that spot between your legs, probably so slippery and warm.Â
Youâre very shy though, not moving much better yet speaking as this faceless man takes in your image. You feel awkward, but still turned on despite squeezing your legs together and hiding that spot from him.Â
âOh, babyââ Sunghoon coos out in a way that makes it seem as though he was endeared by that. âThatâs not going to work.â
Youâre more focused on your embarrassment than you are on the way his cock leaks and pours pre-cum at the image heâs witnessing.Â
âHow am I supposed to show you how much better Iâd take care of you?â He continues, reverting back to the same role play from before. âI bet that boss of yours wouldnât want to bury his tongue in you like I would.â
Your legs fall open at the words, and he can see the way you thrust up just slightly.Â
âThatâs it, you need someone to touch you, donât you?â He continues, watching you intensely. âNeed someone to lick that pretty pussy?â
You nod, once again forgetting that he canât see you do it before you finally speak.
âPlease.â
His moan after hearing you seems far more intense than the first time you did this with him. In fact, he appears entirely focused on you. Role playing in some way but somehow acting more real than last time too.Â
âYou deserve some love for all that hard work.â He says to you, encouraging you to keep talking for him. âPlay with yourself, go on. You need it.â
You follow his instructions on instinct, as if your body truly does need the release.Â
âFeel itâ not too hard, just graze over your panties.â
Ah, still you listen, holding your breath at each feather-light touch you give to yourself per his request.Â
And he watches. Hyper-focused on the way that darkened spot on your panties grows bigger and bigger. So wet for him doing exactly what he wishes he could do for you come tomorrow morning.Â
âYour other hand babe, slowly, lift your shirt andââ
He doesnât even have to keep instructing you. You do exactly as he wanted, lifting your shirt gently before playing with your own nipples, still lightly grazing your fingers over your swollen clit thatâs restricted by your panties.Â
You moan quietly at the feeling, wishing so much that it doesnât have to be your hands doing this.Â
âThat feels good, doesnât it?â Sunghoon hums, now working his palm against his own length, gentle, barely grazing it. âNow, look at me.â
You draw your eyes forward, the image of him already arousing from before, but now? Why is he so much hotter now? As if the screen is nothing but a window into his bedroom.Â
âYou see how hard I am right now?â You can hear the smile in his voice as you continue to work yourself up to near-sensitivity. âNever been this hard for anyone else.â
Oh, thatâs bullshit. He does this as a job. Heâs just sweet talking to you for sure.Â
âBeen thinking about you since the first time you booked me.â He continues, keeping the touches light and making sure you donât press on yourself too hard either. âWas hard all week for you.â
Okay, yeah, maybe you are a little too into praise. Lie or not, itâs exactly what you need to hear right now.Â
âYou're gonna be just as good for me tonight too?â Sunghoon hums, tightening his grip. âYouâre going to push your panties to the side and show me that you missed me too, right?âÂ
Yes. The light touching has been nothing but torture at this point, wanting so badly to be told to do more. For yourself, for him.Â
You barely recognize how your embarrassment leaves your body when you stretch your panties to the side, letting him see how they stuck to you only to unfold in a glistening mess for him.Â
âMessy, messy, messy.â Sunghoon moans, struggling so hard by now not to fuck his fist straight to orgasm. But no, he canât ruin this moment.Â
Thatâs your pussy, looking so wet and tight, so needy.Â
âGently still, open up for me.â Sunghoon groans lowly, watching so closely the way you spread open your lips for him, the hole pulsing and dribbling so much slick.Â
Never in his life has he ever wanted to bury his tongue into someone this badly. Goddamn, heâs nearly obsessed with you at this moment. He loses composure.
âFuckââ He seethes, feeling his cock twitch wildly against his hand. âI want you so bad.â
Those words feel more real to you than anything else. Virtual sex is one thing but to have a man blatantly moan those words to you as if he means them? As if he has never let it slip for any of his other scheduled calls?
âWhatâs the name of your boss again?â Sunghoon asks, pretending as if he forgot, just to hear you say it.Â
He notes the way your pussy clenches through his words too, as if he can see the confusion not through your expression, but through your arousal alone. Asking you that turned you off.
âWhatâs his name, baby?â Sunghoon presses, offering an excuse. âI wanna know who it is that gave me this tonight.â
Alluding to the fact that the only reason youâre paying him is because your boss made you feel like you need release in some way.Â
âPark-â You start, not wanting to deny his demands. âSunghoon.â
âAh, yeah.â Sunghoon holds his breath, closing his eyes briefly just to let that breathy voice sit in his mind before focusing back on you. âTwo fingers babe, slide them in.â
God, you listen just as well as you do at work. He should have given you that promotion the day he saw your application. Even without seeing you do as you're told in this situation, he already knew you were going to be getting that interview next week.
He listens to the way your cunt swallows up your fingers, so wet and needy. Swollen around the two digits as you slide them in with a breathy sigh.Â
âSpread your fingers, open up.âÂ
You do, presenting your opened core to him without any shame at this point. Allowing him to look, wanting him to look.
âNow, sayââ Sunghoon swallows around a lump in his throat. âThank you Sunghoon.â
Your pussy pulses around your fingers, recoiling again at the name.Â
âSay, Thank you Sunghoon, for all of this stress.âÂ
He continues, trying to encourage, adding another lie of an excuse just to get you to break.Â
âBecause, if it weren't for him, I wouldnât be needing to take care of you like this, now would I?â
In your horny brain, it makes sense.
âThank you, Sunghoon.â You moan, plunging your fingers into yourself without being told to do so, moaning out for the faceless man on the screen at your break in composure.Â
And, well, Sunghoon himself is on fire. After all, youâve only ever referred to him as Mr.Park, and hearing you practically moan his name in such an intimate way? It does nothing to keep him from spiraling into an even more selfish mindset.Â
âAgain.â He instructs you, watching the way your legs shake through saying his name.Â
âThank you Sunghoon.â You continue, as if the words are natural despite feeling intense irritation for the man. âThank you.â
And, well, that very name youâre moaning is now also moaning. That little fake name you gave to him falls from his lips after you say it each time, fucking into his fist and hoping youâre watching, nearly unable to ask you to stick another finger into yourself.
Not needing to ask at all, apparently, because you do it yourself. You even bump your clit up against your wrist too.Â
Shit.Â
He needs you.
âThank him for what?â Sunghoon starts to ask, feeling an orgasm approach far too quickly.Â
âFor making me come to you!â You answer him as if youâre frustrated, hips bouncing up against your hand just to dig your fingers in deeper.Â
âWhat else?â He asks now, forgetting what it is he should not be doing.Â
âHmm?â You answer in a drawn-out moan.
âThank him for what else?â He repeats first, only to follow up with his own answer. âFor giving you a reason to cum.â
âYes!â You groan, now grinding your hips up and against your palm without relaxing back against the bed. Intentionally chasing as your eyes remain on him, watching him pull and tug so roughly.Â
âSo fucking prettyâ Sunghoon praises as he snaps his hips in time with his moving palm, eyes so tuned into you thatâ âFuckââ He moans your name. âSo pretty.â
And he didnât realize it. Half expecting you to moan back for him, heâs still moaning as he watches you halt what youâre doing and cover yourself entirely.
âWhat did you just call me?â You ask in an out of breath voice.Â
Sunghoon repeats your fake name to you, feeling the energy shift in an instant.
âNo. You just called meââ You repeat your real name to him.Â
âAh, sorry babe, mustâve gotten tongue tied.â
Thereâs a rush of anxiety within you as you stare at the screen. ThereâsâŠ.no fucking way.Â
Given, youâve never seen him outside of a suit. The voice you hear doesnât click in your head as Sunghoonâs either, considering heâs never a man of very many words.Â
Instantly, youâre covering your camera with your hand, watching how the man on the screen spreads his legs out and drops his cock. Like heâs waiting, like heâs listening, wondering. Are you making a fool of yourself right now?
Are you misreading?Â
He seems calm, and if it really is SunghoonâŠsurely heâd be disconnecting right now, right?
Why would he even be fucking himself on camera anyway? The guy makes bank! Youâre the one who sees his paychecks, after all. Still, thereâs a twisting in your gut as you ignore the way you still drip against your sheets.Â
Very quietly, just to see, you work up the courage.
âMr.Park?â
Itâs silent for a few seconds as the man on the screen shifts, a blur of movement forcing you into a state of motion-sickness.Â
You almost thought he was going to chuckle at you and ask if you were thinking about your boss rather than him. You almost thought he would use that to his advantage.Â
You almost thought you were wrong, butâ he disconnects.Â
A few moments later, you receive an email with a refund of your five hundred dollars.Â
And two hours later? Lying in your bed with anxiety in your gut, you get a text from none other than Park Sunghoon.
Mr.Park: Can we talk?
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â part two here!
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