#if your man hide his face from your cam

[herejusttosufferalong]

A saved a story with his Reebok shirt to her highlights. Along with the story from yesterday. (Among others)

awww saving a shirt because she has no posts with the man to save

[nadvs]

cam girl (part one)

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

summary you work two jobs. by day, you’re a maid for the cameron household, where rafe degrades you any chance he can get. by night, you’re a cam girl, hiding your face so nobody can recognize you. when you discover your new subscriber, the filthy-mouthed man obsessively paying you to do everything he can think of, is rafe, you’re not sure what to do next.

» masterlist

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

“Make sure to bend down real low.” Rafe’s deep voice startles you.

You’re kneeling down as you fill the freezer with the groceries that were just delivered. You thought you were alone in the massive kitchen, but sure enough, Rafe is taunting you again.

You don’t even need to turn to look at him to know he’s wearing a self-satisfied smirk. A depraved part of you is excited he’s there.

“Is there anything I can get you?” you mutter, your attention still focused on your work. It’s your go-to phrase whenever he bothers you. Professional, but not exactly friendly.

“Yeah, is that the only uniform they give you?” he asked. “You don’t have anything tighter?”

You stand and turn to finally look at him. His baseball hat is on backwards and his arms are crossed, large biceps bulging beneath the hem of his t-shirt.

You smooth down the loose gray knee-length dress you’re wearing and you swear he’s undressing you with his coy blue eyes. You hate that it arouses you when he looks at you like that.

You’ve gotten used to Rafe teasing you. You’re almost sure he gets off on degrading you. There are other maids but you’re the only one he does this to.

“Nope, this is it,” you say curtly. If you didn’t need this job, you’d cuss this man out. Probably even slap him. But you need to stay cordial, and he knows that, riding the power trip whenever he can.

“Too bad.” Rafe knocks on the kitchen island before turning to leave. “I can tell you’re hiding a nice ass under there.”

You feel your cheeks burn as you go back to work. You only come to work at the estate on Wednesdays and Saturdays and the days can’t go by fast enough.

You appreciate every dollar you can make these days as a struggling college student. Thankfully, your other job as a cam girl has been bringing in more and more money.

After you finish up your day at the Camerons’ estate, you drive your rusted, old car to your apartment in the south part of the island. The space is tiny, but it’s yours, and it’s good enough for now.

You go live for half an hour at 10 pm every other night of the week. Getting your start as a cam girl took some time, but now you have 32 subscribers and are starting to make good money off the website.

Tonight, you’re dressed in a black push-up bra and matching thong. You never show your face higher than your lips, refusing to risk anyone recognizing you.

This is just for the money, although you can admit to yourself that you find pleasure in knowing you can turn on so many strangers with your body. You sit on your bed, your toys ready off-screen.

Over your last session, a new user with the screen-name figure8 joined your chat. It threw you for a loop for a moment, prompting you to worry it was somebody you know from the Kooks’ part of the island, but the chances are slim. Figure 8 is a general term and the man could be from anywhere.

“Hey,” you say slowly. “How was everyone’s day? Mine was so long.”

figure8 didn’t say anything the other night, just watched and subscribed at the end of the stream, but tonight, he types something a minute into the session as you sit in front of the camera, running your hands over your satin bra.

figure8: you gonna show those perfect tits?

You giggle, immediately stepping into your cam girl persona. You check to see that twelve users are now viewing your stream.

“You’d like that, huh?” you ask, peeling off a bra strap. “Anyone else wanna see what’s underneath?”

You notice the bouncing dots on the screen that tell you that viewers are typing.

v2bo: yes

dragon89: take it off

stonyon: play with your tits

You strip off your bra, touching yourself, your breath hitching as arousal tightens in your core.

Without hesitation, you picture Rafe’s hands on you. He’s always on your mind during your cam sessions as you impulsively imagine his broad frame on top of you, dominating you.

You try to play it off when he taunts you at work, but it’s not until you’re touching yourself that you realize just how much it turns you on when he talks to you the way he does in his deep, mocking tone.

figure8: you like to get your tits played with?

You smirk, surprised someone is asking you what you enjoy. Typically, viewers like to simply compliment you or order you around, but you never get asked about your preferences.

“I love getting my tits played with,” you purr.

You press your arms to squeeze your tits together.

figure8: you like a cock between your tits don’t you princess

The sexy nickname makes you quiver a little. You bite your bottom lip.

“I’m so wet already,” you moan. “And thinking about a cock right here…”

You take a dildo you keep off-screen and place it between your tits. You part your lips as you rub the toy up and down, hearing the chimes of tips from your chat coming in.

figure8: bet you’re so good at sucking dick. i’d fuck your tits and that pretty little mouth so nicely

“You wanna see how I use my mouth?” you tease.

v2bo: deepthroat

You put the tip of the dildo on your tongue, flicking and rolling it. When you finally put your mouth around it, you close your eyes, thinking of Rafe in his kitchen, thinking of getting on your knees and sucking him off.

dragon89: put it in your pussy

A new notification pops up on your screen: figure8 is requesting a private show. Your heart-rate skyrockets.

You’d never gotten the request before. You had set the rate at $250 for a private session, half-expecting that you wouldn’t get any takers. You’re excited about the money and the fact that this new, intriguing viewer is the one who requested it.

You quickly type privately to figure8: This session ends at 10:30 and then I’m all yours, baby.

You continue to play with the dildo using your mouth, getting it wet all over, when a private chat comes in from figure8: how much for u to end the live and go private with me right now?

You don’t want to risk asking for too much and scaring the man away, but the possibility of making more in a private session than you would in a live one is compelling.

You never know much the live sessions will bring, but a private show is guaranteed money. Ending your session early might piss off your subscribers and maybe even make you lose some of them… but you impulsively reply: $1000.

Within a few seconds, you get a tip notification.

figure8 tipped you $1000.

You quickly end your live session, deciding to later tell your subscribers that your internet went out, then open the private session with figure8.

“Hello,” you whisper. “You want me to be your own personal toy, huh?”

figure8: i dont like to share

You laugh. If he’s willing to continue to pay you for private sessions, you’re happy to oblige.

“What would you like to see?” you ask. “You wanna see how I’d suck your cock?”

figure8: tap it against your mouth

“You’d tease me, wouldn’t you?” you whisper. You tap the dildo on your lips, sticking out your tongue.

figure8: princess i’d go so slow with you until you’re soaked and begging for my cock

You feel yourself get wetter reading his words. He’s not like any of the other viewers you’ve had. He’s asking what you like, calling you a sweet name, not rushing anything.

“You want me aching for it, huh?” you purr. You put the dildo in your mouth again, slowly sucking and slurping.

figure8: that mouth is so fucking pretty

You continue to lick and suck, moaning on the toy, your panties drenched now.

“I want it inside me,” you say, realizing you’re not even speaking through your persona anymore. You’re actually turned on by him, actually wanting to fuck yourself with the dildo.

figure8: not yet. keep sucking it

You giggle, half-frustrated, and obey him.

“You touching yourself right now?” you ask.

figure8: yeah. wanna see?

You have the option of enabling media from viewers, but you never thought you’d want to see a stranger like that. But this man is something else. You click on the button to allow him to send you a photo.

“Send it so I can imagine you hard in my mouth,” you purr.

A few moments pass before the picture comes in. He’s lying down in bed, showing a bit of his toned stomach, his large hand at the base of his dick. It’s thick and long and so damn perfect.

“Shit,” you whisper. “Such a nice cock. I don’t think I could fit it all in my mouth.”

You’re not just saying it to flatter him. He’s huge.

figure8: you could if you tried hard enough

You lick your lips, pushing the dildo deep into your mouth, gagging a little.

figure8: the way you choke on it is so hot. fuck

“How am I doing?” you coo.

figure8: such a good girl. let me see how you touch your pussy. keep the panties on

The praise makes you ache for it even more. This started off as a job, a way to make money, but now you’re genuinely excited, wishing this guy could fuck you for real.

You tilt your laptop down, spreading your legs in front of the camera as you sit on your bed. Your thong is still on, but it’s see-through. You watch yourself on the screen, tits still in view as you put your hand over your pussy.

figure8: be slow with it

“You’re torturing me, you know,” you giggle. “I’m not a patient girl.”

figure8: i’ll make u be patient. i want u to beg

“Please let me take these panties off,” you whimper. “I need to touch myself.”

figure8: put your panties to the side

You obey, moaning at the pleasure of your fingers finally on your clit. You rub in circles and up and down, trembling.

figure8: wish i could eat you out right now. you want my mouth on your pussy?

“Fuck, I’d love that,” you say, imagining Rafe looking up at you through his beautiful eyes as he licks your pussy.

figure8: show me how wet you are. put your fingers up to the camera

You do as you’re told, showing him your wetness as it shimmers in the white light from the screen.

“See how much you turn me on?” you say.

figure8: take the panties off and stretch out your pussy lips

You eagerly slide your underwear off and throw them beside your bed. With your legs spread again, you pull your lips apart, giving him the perfect view.

figure8: good girl. you listen so well

You get a notification that he tipped you $500. You never thought you’d make this much money in one night.

“Thank you, baby,” you giggle. “You love this pussy, huh?”

figure8: ur so fucking perfect. i want to cum inside u. put the dildo in nice and slow, princess

“Finally,” you say. “Your cock would slide in so easily right now. I’m so fucking wet.”

The toy fills you perfectly, making you quiver. You start to slowly thrust it in and out, but the chat chimes again.

figure8: i know you’re needy but i said slow. put the dildo in and move your hand. i wanna see it inside you

“Sorry,” you tease. You move your hand so he can see the toy inside you. You watch yourself in the screen, the dildo hugged perfectly between your walls.

figure8: you’d squeeze my cock so fucking well

“What if you’re too big for me, hmm?”

figure8: princess we’d make it fit

You’re nearly writhing at this point. You scroll back up to see his nude photo again, imagining it inside of you.

“Your dick is so fucking nice,” you groan.

figure8: show me how you like to be fucked. make yourself cum. don’t fake it. i wanna hear u cum for real

You obey, thankful he’s finally letting you orgasm. You hold the base of the toy and plunge it in and out of you, the lewd sound filling your bedroom, and use your other hand to rub your clit. You whimper, making sure to keep your face out of frame, imagining this stranger thrusting into you.

You let the sounds of pleasure spill out of your mouth, uninhabited, knowing he’s stroking his dick to you right now.

The orgasm hits you hard, your legs shaking. You’re panting as you look at your screen to see what he said.

figure8: i just came so fucking hard

“I wish your cum was inside of me,” you say breathlessly. You try to catch your breath as he continues to type.

figure8: what’s ur favorite position?

“Doggy,” you say, surprised he wants to know more. “What’s yours?”

figure8: thats mine too. you can show me next time, princess

“You wanna do this again, huh?” you tease.

figure8: i dont want you showing your body to any other guy. i’ll pay you double what you make on your streams if you only do private shows for me

The idea intrigues you. It’s sexy how he doesn’t want to share you at all.

“How often you want to do these, baby?” you ask.

figure8: every night. i’ll give you 1000 for every show and tips for when you deserve it. i want to buy you some things and watch you use them. you’re mine and mine only

The thought of making $1000 a night is unbelievable. This guy is loaded with cash and wants to spend so much on you.

You would lose the following you worked hard to get, but you’d undoubtedly make way more money being this man’s personal cam girl.

“Deal,” you finally say with a disbelieving laugh. “Same time tomorrow?”

figure8: don’t be late

The chat window notifies you that he left. You’re still breathless, shocked at how you didn’t have to fake the orgasm with him.

You scroll to find his dick pic again, as if you’re addicted to looking at it. You turn your camera off and now that you can angle your screen up, you can take a better look at the image.

Your stomach drops. The gold ring around his forefinger. The bedsheets you change twice a week. You know who it is.

The man you just orgasmed with was Rafe.

{ read part two here }

[usagii-bun]

PART 2|| ⭑.ᐟ 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝗋𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌| 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖿𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗈𝗋 ! 𝖺𝗅𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗆 𝗑 𝖼𝖺𝗆𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅! 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 — 𝗇𝗌𝖿𝗐 𝟣𝟪+

PART 1 , PART 2

— (𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝖻𝗒 𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗂𝗆𝗒𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝗇 𝗑.)

𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒...in which you are a cam girl and he is your favorite viewer OR in which you are a final year college student and he is your new professor.

𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌... smut, rough sex, oral sex (f and m),possessive sex, hair-pulling, vaginal fingering, spanking, masturbating( f and m), doggy style, mating press, language (these warnings are for all 3 parts)

this is extra long cause i combined chapters 2 and 3 together from ao3 <3

word count: 12.3k

also, please do like, reblog, and comment. i love to hear your thoughts about this <33

Alhaitham stumbled back into the apartment, the faint buzz of alcohol still lingering in his system. He was slightly tipsy, though not as far gone as his roommate Kaveh, who was practically hanging off his shoulder, muttering nonsense.

"Man, you’re so uptight, even when you're drinking," Kaveh slurred, squinting at Alhaitham as though he were the most complex puzzle in existence. "I swear, you could be at a rave and still look like you’re solving a theorem." He laughed, his voice echoing through the empty hallway.

Alhaitham rolled his eyes, his lips pressed into a thin line. "Maybe I just have better things to think about than your drunken rambling," he shot back, guiding Kaveh to the couch before retreating towards his study. He'd had enough of Kaveh's inebriated philosophies for one night.

But Kaveh, as persistent as ever, wasn't finished. "Why don't you ever just… loosen up? You're going to get wrinkles from frowning so much." He waved a lazy hand in the air. "You should find a cam girl or something. It'd do you some good."

Alhaitham stopped in his tracks, turning to glare at his roommate. "That's not exactly my thing, Kaveh."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Kaveh mumbled something else, but by then, Alhaitham had already shut the door to his study, the noise fading behind him. Sitting down at his desk, he stared at the open books in front of him, trying to push the absurd conversation out of his mind. But Kaveh’s words lingered—annoyingly so. Loosen up, huh?

He huffed, running a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of Kaveh’s drunken comment gnaw at him. It was ridiculous, really. Alhaitham didn’t need to "loosen up" in the way Kaveh suggested. He was perfectly content with his routine. Yet, for some reason, his mind kept circling back to Kaveh’s joke.

Cam girls.

Without much thought, and more out of curiosity than anything else, Alhaitham pulled his laptop closer, typing out a quick search. He wasn’t looking for anything in particular, just mindlessly scrolling through the thumbnails of various profiles. None of them really caught his interest. It all seemed so superficial, so far from anything that would actually intrigue him.

Until he accidentally clicked on a profile.

He almost clicked out of it immediately, but something made him pause. The girl on screen—her features were soft, her expression carefully masked, but there was something in her eyes. Pain, discomfort, maybe? She shifted, and he could see she was trying to hide it, to maintain the performance, but she was clearly not okay.

Before he realized what he was doing, his fingers flew across the keyboard, tipping her to stop. He wasn’t sure why he did it. Perhaps it was the urge to help, or just the fact that he couldn’t stand to see someone in obvious pain without intervening.

A notification popped up on her screen, and she blinked, pausing in the middle of whatever she was doing. Alhaitham watched as she read his message, a look of surprise briefly crossing her face before she stopped, offering a small, grateful smile in return.

He could have left it at that. He should have. But something kept him there, his hand hovering over the request for a private session. It wasn’t about pleasure—not in the way Kaveh had implied. No, this was different. He was curious, intrigued by her reaction, her vulnerability. Before he could second-guess himself, he sent the request.

When the private session began, her demeanour was noticeably more relaxed. She wasn’t putting on the same kind of show for him as she might for others, and that suited him just fine. They didn’t talk much. He asked her if she was okay, she reassured him that she was, and for the most part, he just watched. Not in a voyeuristic way, but as if observing something—someone—he didn’t quite understand.

And when it was over, he left.

He hadn’t planned on returning. Alhaitham chalked the whole thing up to an odd impulse, one brought on by Kaveh’s careless words. Yet, as the days passed, he found his mind drifting back to her. To the softness of her features, the way her smile had changed once she knew he wasn’t there to demand anything from her. The way she had looked so at ease, even in that strange, intimate setting.

It didn’t take long before he found himself on the site again. And again.

This time, he didn’t stop at curiosity. He began to indulge, slowly, cautiously, but undeniably drawn to her. There was something about her presence—her calmness, her smile—that tugged at him in ways he didn’t fully comprehend. Maybe it was the way she carried herself, or maybe it was the contrast between her work and the moments where she let her guard down. Whatever it was, it kept pulling him back.

As the days slipped by, Alhaitham found himself returning to the site more often than he expected. It had started innocently enough, just curiosity, but now something deeper tugged at him. He’d try to focus on his work, bury himself in books, but she was always there, lingering in the back of his mind.

One night, after yet another exhausting day, he found himself logging in again, the familiar tension rising in his chest. He clicked onto her profile, waiting for the livestream to start. When she appeared on screen, his breath caught. She was wearing soft, black lingerie, the delicate lace hugging her body in a way that made his pulse quicken. There was something about the way she carried herself tonight—subtle, alluring, but also personal. Intimate, almost as if this performance wasn’t for the masses but for him alone.

Alhaitham leaned back in his chair, the screen casting a soft glow over his face as he watched her. She was teasing, slow and deliberate with her movements, but what really held him captive was the way she seemed… comfortable. Confident. It wasn’t just a performance anymore, and that realization stirred something in him.

When she shifted, her fingers trailing over her skin, he felt a heat pool low in his stomach. His gaze was fixed, his mind lost in the rhythm of her motions. He tried to keep himself detached, like he had before, but this time it was different. This time, he couldn’t stop the slow, building desire creeping through him.

She began to interact with her chat, answering questions with a soft, teasing smile, but it felt like her attention was elsewhere—on something more personal. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but Alhaitham couldn’t shake the feeling that she was aware of him watching, that she knew he was there. As if the connection they had in that first private session hadn’t been fleeting.

And when she finally glanced at the camera, eyes half-lidded, her fingers trailing lower over the soft fabric of her lingerie, something snapped in him.

Before he could stop himself, he sent a request for a private session. The notification appeared on her screen, and her lips curled into a small, knowing smile. She accepted immediately, and the screen shifted, blocking out the rest of the audience until it was just the two of them.

The atmosphere was different this time—heavier, charged with an unspoken tension. She didn’t waste time with pleasantries, her fingers moving with more intent, a soft hum escaping her lips as she settled into the space they now shared. Alhaitham’s eyes followed every movement, the heat building inside him impossible to ignore now.

“Enjoying yourself tonight?” she asked, her voice low and sultry, though there was a flicker of genuine curiosity behind her words.

He swallowed hard, his mouth dry as his nimble fingers typed a response.

User1102: You could say that.

Her lips parted in a slow smile as her hands continued their path across her body, teasing the lace of her lingerie aside just enough to reveal more of her soft skin. “You seem… different tonight.”

Alhaitham's fingers tightened around the edge of his desk. He wasn’t sure what she meant by that, but she wasn’t wrong. There was something about tonight, about her, that had shifted. Maybe it was the soft glow of her room, or the way the pink fabric contrasted against her skin. Maybe it was the knowledge that this moment was private, just between the two of them, that made everything feel more… intimate. More real.

He watched, entranced, as she slipped her hand lower, her breath hitching slightly. His pulse quickened, the tension in his body almost unbearable now. He could feel his own restraint slipping, the lines he had drawn for himself blurring.

This wasn’t just curiosity anymore. This was something else entirely.

His fingers quickly typed up a response, his breath already shallow as his eyes lingered at the top of her supple breasts.

Alhaitham didn't know what to feel but the feeling of his cock already straining against his pants, he's about to get his money's worth.

He was shirtless already due to the warm summer but he was already racking

up a cold sweat, he unbuttons his pants and pulls out his cock, hissing as it throbs at the sight of her in lingerie.

User1102: why don't you surprise me today, take control.

Her eyes glistened at his reply as she giggled. Her hand reaching out behind her as Alhaitham’s eyes widen.

"Fuck" He groans out, body shuddering at the large dildo she had in her hand. Her eyes flickering from the camera to the dildo as her lips trailed along the length of it sensual.

He watched with keen eyes as she brought the dildo down to her puffy pussy, juice already leaking from the hole— so much that she didn't even need lube to lubricate the dildo.

Alhaitham’s fist wrapped loosely around his hard cock, the veins pulsating against his hand as his brain became foggy.

He watched as she slowly pushed the tip inside of her, her pussy clenching tightly at the tip a high pitch moan escapes passed her parted gloss lips. Alhaitham's hand glided up his cock and to the tip as he squeezed it, imagining it was his big cock pushing through her tiny pussy.

He mimicked her pussy with his hand, imagining how tight she must be as she slowly pushed the dildo inside of her. Her thighs shaking, sweating glistening on them as she quickly reached down with her other hand to play with her puffy clit.

Alhaitham reached out with his one hand to type in a response as his cock was pulsating in his fist.

She was waiting for his next command even though he gave her the green light to do her own things.

User1102: such a good bunny. Such a good girl for me. Your pussy looks so stuffed, wished it was my cock in their instead.

Her eyes skimmed through the message, a messy moan leaves her mouth as she moves the dildo in her , a sloppy sound being her.

"I w-wish it was your cock. F-feels so good, would feel so much better if it was your thick cock in me-ahh" her words came out in a moan at the end as Alhaitham started moving his fist tightly on his cock to match the rhythm of her moving the dildo in her.

If he was there, he would move much faster. Pound her tight pussy until she was overflowing with his cum.

you’re so pretty, cheeks flushed and lips parting into the perfect orgasm face as your shaking arm reaches for your clit, eyes so hooded that you can barely see the screen in front of you.

Alhaitham’s hand pumps his cock a little faster, following the rough and fast circles you’re subjecting your aching clit to. He allows himself to groan loudly, gripping the arm of the chair as he thrusts up into his hand, pre-cum spilling over his shaft.

your high pitched moans are music to his ears and the twitching of your legs are proof of the pleasure that he’s indirectly causing.

your head’s thrown back, exposing your neck as your hips roll against the dildo, juices from your cunt sliding down your ass as it drenches the sheets below you.

“s-sir please! can i cum? please let me cum! i’ve been a good girl!”

tingles run down Alhaitham's spine as he hears your whiny voice beg.

His hand reaches out to type a quick response as his other furiously jerks his pulsating cock.

User1102: cum for me.

The chair creaking as he fucks his hand and your eyes scan the chat, you pinch your clit and scream, body convulsing as you cum all over the dildo.

“f-fuck, fuck, fuck! i’m cumming !” you wail, back arching off the bed. your body stiffens at the uncomfortable position as a stream of clear liquid shoots out of your pussy, drenching your soiled sheets even more.

Alhaitham follows suit, moaning as white spurts of cum shoot out of his cock, staining his thighs and abs. eyes dark and mind hazy from his orgasm, your eyes are heavy and lidded when you sit up, chest heaving and nipples aching as the toy slowly leaves your pussy, whining as you feel your juices slide down your ass.

Alhaitham's eyes widen when you fumble around the dildo and pulled the toy that’s shining and glistening with your essence.

you put the wet and warm toy in your mouth, sucking and licking like you would on a real cock. Alhaitham groans, closing his eyes as he hears you moan, tasting yourself on the toy.

The sound going straight to his cock again as images start to form in his mind, imagining you doing that to him, choking on his cock before he grabs your hips, giving ut a squeeze and slaps your ass, entering your needy pussy in one hard thrust.

you practically crawl towards the laptop, eyes sultry and inviting before you pull the toy out of your mouth with a wet pop and throw a dazzling smile at the camera, as if you didn’t get ruined by a silicone cock a few moments before.

“i hope you enjoyed the show, sir. but i wish it was your real cock that made me cum and squirt like that.”

with one last wink to the camera, you end the stream.

Alhaitham body slumped on his chair, eyes staring at the blank laptop screen as his gaze fell above him on his ceiling. His breathing erratic as his gazes falls on his cock that had harden once again.

'Fuck'

'Fuck'

Alhaitham stood at the entrance of the lecture hall, his usual calm exterior masking the storm of disbelief swirling inside him. His eyes scanned the room, moving over the rows of students until they landed on you. There you was—sitting in the back, casually leaning over your desk, looking as though you was about to drift off to sleep. You looked so different from the confident, alluring woman he'd been captivated by just last night, completely unaware of the private session that now hung heavy between them.

The sudden images of you sucking on the dildo flashed in his mind, your moan echoing in his head as he swallowed hard, forcing himself to keep moving, though his steps felt heavier. His thoughts raced. How could this happen? Out of all the people who could have been sitting in his classroom, it had to be you—the woman who had unknowingly shaken him to his core.

Clearing his throat, he stood at the front of the room, addressing the class. “There will be a pop quiz today, ” he announced, his voice steady but laced with an undercurrent of tension. The class erupted into groans as he forced himself not to roll his eyes "you would know this if you saw the email last night and prepared."

“Old-fashioned, on paper.” Alhaitham also stated as he began handing out the papers, his focus was everywhere but where it should be. He moved down each row, handing out the sheets with mechanical precision, his gaze subtly darting toward the back where you sat, unbothered by the sudden quiz.

Reaching your row, he slowed. You was sitting at the end, your usual nonchalance etched on your face as you glanced at the blank paper. He handed the quiz to the student beside you, who passed it down until it reached you. But something within him made him pause.

He took a deep breath and stepped forward, holding the next sheet in his hand. As he approached you, your hands brushed—just for a moment, just enough to send a jolt of awareness through his entire body. Your skin was warm against his, and the contact sent an unexpected tingle up his arm. It was as if time froze, the casual touch sparking something deep inside him.

He pulled his hand back quickly, almost too quickly, and felt the weight of your gaze lift to him. He could feel the heat rise to his neck, but he kept moving, walking down the next row as if nothing had happened.

But something had changed.

Alhaitham sat at his desk, attempting to focus on the papers in front of him, but all he could think about was the feel of your skin brushing against his. His fingers still tingled, the sensation lingering in his mind far longer than it should have. He glanced up, watching as you lazily scribbled answers on your quiz, unaware of the storm brewing inside him.

He shook his head, mentally chastising himself.

' You’re her professor. This cannot happen.'

His gaze falls back on his laptop, an email from the Dean of the university had popped up. His eyes furrow to see that she would like to talk to him after his current lecture. An annoyed sigh escaping past his lips.

'Great. They problem want me to do something for them.'

And he was right.

Alhaitham leaned against the wall of the dean’s office, arms crossed, his mind a tumultuous storm of conflicting thoughts. Rukkhadevata sat across from him, a knowing look in her eyes as she shuffled through a few papers on her desk. The room was adorned with academic awards and a bookshelf brimming with scholarly texts, giving it an air of seriousness and authority.

“Alhaitham, I appreciate you coming by on such short notice,” she began, her voice calm and inviting. “I wanted to discuss an opportunity for a student who’s expressed a keen interest in linguistics and academia.”

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued yet wary. “Who is it?” he asked, though he already felt the shadows of doubt creeping in.

“Her name is [Your Name]. She’s in her fourth year, and I believe she could greatly benefit from shadowing you during your afternoon lectures with the first-year students.” Rukkhadevata paused, observing his reaction.

Alhaitham's brows scrunched in thought, he had heard the name a few times from other professors and also knows he has someone named that in his class but he don’t know how that person looks.

“I see,” he replied,, dryly. “But does she have the necessary background to assist? I teach advanced concepts that require a solid foundation.”

Rukkhadevata nodded, her expression resolute. “She’s demonstrated exceptional aptitude in her studies, particularly in linguistics. This experience could be pivotal for her. You know as well as I do that sometimes, a little guidance can ignite a passion for research and teaching in a student.”

Alhaitham contemplated her words, it would be a good learning ground for him to. Understanding the mind of a student and how they think when teaching a lecture but also it means his personal time in his office will be cut short as the student will need to shadow him.

“What if I’m not comfortable with the arrangement? There are other professors who can take her on,” he suggested, his tone more curt than intended.

“Alhaitham,” she replied, her voice steady and reassuring. “I understand your reservations, but I truly believe this is a unique opportunity for both of you. If you don’t take her on, there’s another professor, Tighnari, who would be more than willing to open the spot for her. He already has a student named Collei shadowing him but I don’t want her to miss out on this chance as you're qualified in the linguistics department.”

With a sigh, Alhaitham pushed himself off the wall “Very well,” he conceded, the words slipping out before he could fully process them. “I’ll take her on.”

“Great! I’ll inform her immediately. You’ll meet with her after her morning lectures, and we can discuss the schedule,” Rukkhadevata said, a pleased smile gracing her features.

As Alhaitham left her office, his mind drifted back to you. His mind in a turmoil not knowing what to do. How is going to lecture in a class knowing that he gets off to one of his students ?

The next day, Alhaitham sat at his desk, his eyes fixed on the clock as the minutes ticked by. Ten minutes late. His jaw clenched slightly. He didn’t tolerate lateness, especially not from someone who was supposed to shadow him. He hated wasted time, and this student had already made a poor impression.

Just as he was about to rise from his chair to leave the office to attend to other matters, the door creaked open. His irritation sharpened, but as the door swung wide, his thoughts ground to a halt.

His eyes widened as he realized you were standing in the doorway.

You walked into the room, slightly out of breath, looking a bit flustered. At first, it was just shock. Of all the students, of all the people—it was you, the cam girl he'd been watching for a month, the same girl who had held his attention in ways he couldn’t quite understand. Seeing you here, in front of him, outside of the screen and now close up, was a jarring collision of his two worlds.

For a moment, he was silent, his gaze trailing over you. You looked different in person, softer maybe, but still just as striking. His eyes flicked to the way your hair framed your face, the way you nervously shifted from foot to foot. But then reality hit him like a cold wave. You were here, standing in his office, his student.

He quickly masked his shock, his expression hardening. “You’re late,” he said, his voice colder than he intended, almost biting. “Ten minutes late.”

You blinked, clearly not expecting the harsh tone. “I’m sorry—I got a little lost.”

He let out a small, frustrated breath, trying to gather himself. “Being lost isn’t an excuse. If you’re going to shadow me, I expect punctuality. I don’t tolerate tardiness.”

You nodded, looking slightly out of place, like you weren’t sure where to stand or what to do with your hands. “It won’t happen again. I promise.”

He glanced at you again, his mind still whirling. He couldn’t believe it. The girl he had been watching from behind the safety of a screen, whose cam sessions had been a guilty distraction late at night, was standing right in front of him. And you had no idea who he was other than being your professor.

“Your name is Y/N, correct?” He forced his voice to remain steady, trying to push aside the surreal nature of this situation.

“Yes,” you answered, shifting under his gaze.

“Good,” he muttered, his hand tightening around the edge of his desk. He had to regain control of this conversation—this situation. He couldn’t afford to be distracted by you, not now, not ever. “We’ll start tomorrow. You’ll shadow me throughout the day. I’ll send you your schedule later.”

You nodded again, still looking somewhat nervous, and something about it tugged at him, though he immediately pushed the thought away.

He cleared his throat, trying to regain some normalcy in the moment. But the tension lingered, thick in the air. You noticed, of course, the subtle way he shifted, his eyes darting away from yours as if trying to hide something.

“Are you alright?” you asked softly, your concern genuine, though you had no idea why he was acting this way.

“I’m fine,” he snapped, but then, catching himself, he softened his tone. “I’m fine. That will be all.”

You looked like you were about to say something more, but instead, you simply nodded and turned to leave.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind you, Alhaitham leaned back in his chair, letting out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. His mind raced. He had thought about assigning you to someone else—maybe Tighnari—but now that idea seemed impossible. The thought of someone else mentoring you made him feel… unsettled. No, he would have to handle this himself, regardless of how difficult it might become.

He closed his eyes, letting the quiet of the room wash over him. Tomorrow, he would have to keep his distance, keep things professional. But even now, your face lingered in his mind, and he knew it wouldn’t be as simple as he hoped.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

It was the first day, and you were already regretting being assigned to shadow Professor Alhaitham. After how he had embarrassed you for being late for class and yesterday, you dreaded the idea of spending more time with him. He was a sharp-tongued, cold-hearted ass, but you couldn’t afford to pass up this opportunity. Shadowing him would be invaluable for your studies, even if his attitude grated on your nerves.

You glanced at your watch. It was almost 1 p.m., the time for Alhaitham’s first-year lecture. With a sigh, you reached into your bag and pulled out a compact mirror and lipstick, deciding to retouch it before the lecture started. As you carefully applied the soft shade to your lips, the reflection in the mirror shifted, and you caught sight of him standing at the doorway, staring at you.

Heat rushed to your face, and your hand paused mid-swipe. You could feel his gaze burning into you, intense and unwavering. His eyes flicked from your lips to your eyes in the mirror, and you quickly snapped the compact shut, turning around to face him with a flustered expression.

Alhaitham didn’t miss a beat. “I’m not sure why you’re putting on lipstick right before a lecture,” he remarked, his voice smooth but laced with the kind of dry sarcasm that left you unsure whether it was meant to insult or simply observe. “It’s not like that will help you retain the content better.”

Your blush deepened at the jab, but there was no real malice in his tone. It was just his way. You pursed your lips slightly, resisting the urge to snap back, instead choosing to stay silent. He crossed the room with that same calm, collected air he always had, handing you a stack of papers.

“You’ll need these,” he said, his tone shifting back to business. “I’m giving them a quiz—similar to what I did with your class the other day. After the lecture, you’ll stay back and mark them with me.”

You stared at the stack of papers in your hand, feeling the weight of both the physical and mental load. The thought of sitting with him after school, going through these quizzes together, made you groan under your breath, though not loud enough for him to hear clearly. The last thing you wanted was to spend more time than necessary with him, especially after his cold remarks the day before.

He raised an eyebrow at your reaction but didn’t comment, his expression unreadable. “Complaining won’t make the work go away,” he said mildly, as if already expecting your frustration. “Better get used to it.”

You forced a small smile and nodded, begrudgingly accepting your fate. There was no point arguing. You had signed up for this, after all.

As you followed Alhaitham into the lecture hall, the low hum of students settling into their seats filled the room. You tried not to think about how you’d have to sit with him for hours after school, marking these quizzes. The thought was frustrating, but you kept reminding yourself it was just part of the process. You could handle this.

You settled yourself at the front of the room, laying the stack of quizzes on the desk. Alhaitham began the lecture with his usual confidence, pacing in front of the first-years as he spoke. His voice was steady and sure, effortlessly commanding the room’s attention. It was infuriating how composed he always seemed, never faltering, never showing the slightest hint of emotion beyond his cool detachment.

You found yourself staring at him again, and it annoyed you. How could someone be so frustratingly perfect? His words flowed perfectly, understandable yet his aloofness made it difficult to even like him. It didn’t help that his eyes flickered in your direction occasionally, almost as if he was checking to see if you were paying attention.

Halfway through the lecture, he handed you the quizzes to distribute. You moved through the rows of students, handing them out with a forced smile. Some students gave you sympathetic looks, clearly sensing you were stuck with the task of marking them all later.

As the lecture ended, the bustling sounds of students leaving the hall began to die down. You stood at the back, waiting for the right moment to catch up to Alhaitham. Your fingers drummed nervously on the edge of your notebook, replaying the conversation from earlier in the day. You are stuck with him for the rest of the semester, shadowing his every move as part of the research assistantship you needed for your degree.

He’d embarrassed you once already, calling you out in front of the class on the first day for being late. Now, even though you couldn’t stand his arrogance, you couldn’t afford to let this opportunity go. The problem was, he knew that too. You saw it in his eyes when he handed you those quizzes earlier. There was something so self-assured about him, a smugness that made your blood boil. But still, he had that quiet, undeniable intelligence about him that, annoyingly enough, you found yourself drawn to.

By the time you reached his office, the sun had begun its descent, casting the room in a warm golden hue. Alhaitham's office exudes elegance and order. A polished mahogany table sits at the center, topped with a laptop, a pen, and leather-bound notebooks. Behind it, a high-backed leather chair adds authority and another simpler chair was seat across his table. Floor-to-ceiling shelves filled with books and files line the walls, matching the table’s dark wood. Soft light filters through a large window, highlighting a plush Persian rug beneath. A corner features two leather armchairs and a small coffee table, perfect for meetings, while subtle luxuries and framed art complete the space’s refined atmosphere.

Alhaitham's office mirrors his sharp, organized mind—sophisticated, orderly, and rich with knowledge.

 He motioned for you to sit down, his gaze lingering on you as you did.

“here is the quizzes for you to mark. Atleast today you start off with something light.” he said, handing you a fresh stack of papers, his fingers brushing yours again as they had earlier. A small, unintentional jolt of electricity ran up your arm from the brief contact, and you quickly withdrew your hand, focusing on the task in front of you. You tried to ignore the way his presence loomed across the desk, calm but somehow intense.

As you started marking, the silence between you grew thicker. It wasn’t the kind of silence that brought comfort—it felt like there was something unspoken, hanging heavy in the air between you. Every once in a while, you could feel his gaze shift toward you, studying you before returning to his own stack of papers. You nibbled on your bottom lip absentmindedly, concentrating on the quiz in front of you, when you felt it again—his eyes on you.

You looked up, catching him staring at you. His expression was unreadable, but there was a moment, a flicker of something in his eyes, before he quickly looked away. Your heart skipped a beat, your lips parting in surprise. What was going on with him?

After a few moments, he broke the silence. "Grab that book for me, will you?" He pointed to a high shelf behind you, his voice cool and even as ever.

You stood, walking over to the shelf and craning your neck to reach the book he’d indicated. It was too high, and as you stretched up on your tiptoes, your skirt began to lift slightly. You felt a twinge of annoyance as your fingers just barely grazed the edge of the book.

Behind you, Alhaitham remained silent, but unbeknownst to you, his eyes were locked on your figure. He couldn’t help but notice the way your skirt rode up slightly, revealing the plump of your tighs, those exact same thighs that were squeezed into tight sheer stockings, with liquid from your greedy pussy soaking them. He clenched his jaw, his thoughts racing despite himself. His mind wandering just how soft those thighs would feel arpund his head, squeezing him as he gets to feast on your pussy.  

He had to keep it together.

Finally, you gave up with a sigh, your arm dropping back to your side. Without a word, Alhaitham stood up and walked over to you, his tall frame easily reaching the book that had eluded you. 

"If you’re going to struggle, at least do it more efficiently," he muttered, the words laced with a faint edge of amusement.

You scowled at him. "You could have just taken the book yourself," you replied, trying to mask your irritation. His words weren’t exactly harsh, but there was always that intellectual superiority in his tone that grated on you.

He had a subtle smirk graced upon his lips "from what I've heard, my mentee should be hands down and do anything I ask." His voice putting more emphasis on 'anything I ask' his light turquoise eyes stare at you, something hidden behind the light glaze in them. You quickly look away, a red coat of blush on your cheeks as you walked back to the desk.

After you both settled back into marking the quizzes, the soft scratching of pens filled the small office space. It was quiet, but the air between you still buzzed with unspoken tension. You tried to focus on grading the papers, but your mind kept wandering to him—his presence just across the desk, the way his gaze sometimes lingered a little too long.

You were halfway through another quiz when a shadow loomed over you. Alhaitham had stood up and moved around the desk, coming to stand right behind you. His tall frame towered over your seated position, and you froze, suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was. The subtle scent of his cologne—clean, earthy, with a hint of something spicy—washed over you, clouding your mind and making it difficult to focus on the paper in front of you.

"Why do you think this answer is wrong?" he asked, leaning down slightly, his voice low and calm but close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath near your ear.

Your heart skipped a beat, and for a second, you forgot how to speak. You glanced at the paper, trying to recall what you had marked incorrectly, but the heat radiating from his body and the soft scent of his skin distracted you completely. The closeness of him was overwhelming—his presence, his scent—it all clouded your thoughts until you had to force yourself to snap back into the present.

"Uh… they got the concept of phonetics mixed up with phonology," you stammered, swallowing nervously. "Phonetics is about the sounds themselves, while phonology is about how those sounds function in particular languages."

Alhaitham said nothing for a moment, just staying there, hovering behind you. His proximity made your pulse race, and you could feel the warmth of his body just inches from yours. He leaned in a little more, his fingers tracing the lines of the quiz. Your heart was hammering now, and you cursed yourself for letting your mind wander so much.

"Good," he finally said, straightening back up and, to your surprise, gently patting your head.

The simple, unexpected gesture sent a rush of warmth straight to your cheeks. Your heart fluttered, and you were sure your face had gone bright red. You bit your lip, willing yourself to stay composed, but your thoughts betrayed you. The small pat—so casual, almost paternal—made your mind spin in ways you didn’t expect.

As he moved back to his seat, you sat there for a moment, frozen in place. You couldn’t help but think about how his hand had felt, the gentle pressure on your head, and the surprising warmth it brought. You shook your head, forcing yourself to focus again, but the thought lingered. What if he patted your head every time you gave the right answer?

The idea was ridiculous, but it made your heart race anyway. You could feel the heat rising to your face again, and you had to fight the urge to look at him. You wondered if he noticed how flustered you were, but when you glanced over at him, he was already back to grading, his expression unreadable, as always.

Keep it together, you scolded yourself. This was your professor, and you had to maintain some level of professionalism. But a tiny part of you—the part that was growing more curious about him by the minute—couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, he had noticed your blush.

After the marking, Alhaitham stood up again, gesturing for you to follow him as he headed to his bookshelf. You were still dazed from earlier, but you followed him. He asked you to grab a specific book from the top shelf, but again, it was just out of your reach. You stretched as far as you could, the hem of your skirt lifting slightly as you did. You could feel his eyes on you again, a little more intense this time.

He stepped forward, his presence suddenly looming behind you once more. His hand brushed yours as he reached up easily to retrieve the book. He didn’t say anything at first, but as he handed it to you, his lips quirked into a small, barely-there smirk.

"Struggling again, I see," he muttered, the words laced with that same intellectual superiority you’d come to expect from him. It wasn’t exactly mean, but it stung enough to make your cheeks burn.

You huffed quietly, taking the book from him and returning to your seat. You could feel his gaze lingering on you as he walked back to his desk, but you refused to meet his eyes, determined to ignore the strange tension that had only grown stronger between you.

The marking continued, but your focus was slipping. You kept sneaking glances at him, noticing the small things—how his fingers moved deftly over the papers, how his jaw tensed slightly when he was deep in thought. And then, there were those moments when his eyes would flick to your lips, just for a second, before he quickly looked away.

You absentmindedly nibbled on your bottom lip, a nervous habit you’d had for years, but this time, when you caught him staring at you, his gaze lingered a little too long. His eyes traced the movement of your lips, and for a brief second, something flickered in his expression. He quickly shook his head, as if clearing his mind, and returned to his work.

By the time you finished, the sun had set completely, and the warm glow from the office lamps cast a soft light over the room. Alhaitham glanced at the clock, his usual calm demeanor slipping back into place.

"It’s nearly past 5," he said, standing up and gathering his papers. "You’re dismissed."

You exhaled a sigh of relief, standing and grabbing your bag. As much as you had been dreading this day, it had passed more smoothly than you expected, though it had left you with far more questions than answers. There was something about him, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. You just couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between you.

As you both stepped outside, the cool evening air hit you, much cooler than you had anticipated. You rubbed your arms, feeling the chill sink in, and muttered under your breath, "Strange how chilly it’s gotten, even though it’s still summer."

Alhaitham paused, glancing over at you before shrugging off his coat. He held it out to you, his expression unreadable.

"Here," he said, his tone firm but not unkind.

You blinked in surprise. "I’m fine, really. I don’t need—"

"Take it," he interrupted, his gaze steady.

After a moment’s hesitation, you took the coat, wrapping it around yourself. It was far too big on you, but it was warm, and the subtle scent of him clung to the fabric. The same scent that had distracted you earlier in his office now enveloped you completely, and it made your heart race all over again.

"Thanks," you mumbled, adjusting the coat around your shoulders.

He simply nodded, and the two of you continued walking in silence. The tension between you had shifted, but it was still there, just beneath the surface, and as you parted ways at the end of the path, you couldn’t help but wonder—was he thinking about you the way you were thinking about him? Did he know?

As you watched him walk away, the weight of his coat on your shoulders felt heavier than it should, like it carried with it all the unspoken words and lingering tension between you.

As you walk home, the weight of Alhaitham's coat feels heavier than it should, not just physically, but emotionally. The warmth still clings to you, along with that subtle, distinct scent that belongs to him—earthy, clean, and with just a hint of spice. It feels oddly intimate, like a lingering piece of him you hadn't expected to carry home with you. Each step you take, wrapped in his coat, makes you more aware of its significance. It’s just a piece of fabric, but the way it rests on your shoulders, warm and protective, makes it feel like more than that.

When you finally reach your apartment, you sigh, pulling the keys from your bag. Inside, you place the bag of takeout on the table with little care, too tired and too distracted to do anything but collapse for a moment. You peel off the coat, draping it on the couch, and immediately feel the loss of warmth as it leaves your shoulders. For a brief moment, you consider folding it neatly, but instead, you leave it there, trying to detach yourself from the way your thoughts kept wandering to him—your arrogant, handsome professor.

You settle at the table, opening the takeout container as your mind drifts back to the way he had looked at you earlier in his office. That gaze of his—intense, intelligent, and just a little too observant—had lingered far too long. You shake your head, trying to focus on eating, but it’s impossible. His voice, his presence, the feeling of his hand patting your head—it all keeps pulling you back.

You finish eating faster than usual, your thoughts occupied with him the entire time. As you pick up the coat from the couch to take it to your room, you catch a whiff of his scent again. You freeze, the familiar scent sending your mind spiraling into thoughts you shouldn’t be having. Images flash through your mind—his tall, strong build, the way he had stood so close behind you, his fingers brushing yours when you reached for that book. The fog of those inappropriate thoughts clouds your mind, and for a brief moment, you can’t stop wondering what it would feel like to be closer to him, how he looked under that dress shirt he wore today.

Shaking your head quickly, you scold yourself, forcing those thoughts away as you hang the coat in your cupboard, making a mental note not to forget it tomorrow. You won’t let it cloud your judgment any further. You take a deep breath, pushing those thoughts out of your head as you begin getting ready for your cam session.

As you're about to log in, your phone buzzes, pulling your attention away from the screen. You grab it, expecting some usual notification, but your eyes widen slightly when you see the message is from Alhaitham. You hadn’t even realized he had your number—until now.

Alhaitham: I got your number from the system. You’ll need to make a vocabulary list for the first-year lecture tomorrow. I’ve attached some resources to help. Be sure to finish this before class.

You groan, dropping your phone onto the bed. Of course, he’d send you more work just when you were about to start your cam session. You sigh deeply, throwing yourself back onto the bed and staring at the ceiling. There’s no avoiding it—he's your professor, and as much as he irritates you with his superior attitude, you can't ignore his requests.

Sitting up, you rub your temples and switch gears, deciding to get the task done first. As much as you’d rather jump into your session, you can’t afford to leave it undone. You spend the next hour or so compiling the list, working through the vocabulary terms as your mind buzzes with thoughts of how annoyingly persistent Alhaitham is. He always seems to know just when to give you extra work, like he's testing your patience on purpose.

By the time you finally finish, it’s much later than you'd planned. 

You noticed something different as you scrolled through your cam site, a sinking feeling settling in your chest. User1102 didn’t show up tonight. In fact, he hadn’t for the past few nights. A wave of disappointment washed over you, though you weren’t sure why it bothered you so much. It wasn’t like you knew who he was. But still, he had always been there, watching, engaging, giving you a sense of consistency. Now, his absence felt louder than the other users’ presence, and you couldn’t help but feel a strange sadness.

Shaking off the thought, you closed your laptop and leaned back. It was just a coincidence, right? People came and went all the time on these sites. But as you prepared for bed, you found your mind wandering to him—wondering why he wasn’t there, wondering who he really was. Little did you know, Alhaitham had been avoiding the site ever since the first lecture.

It has now been nearly two weeks. From those two weeks you only spent about 6 days after lessons in his office helping with filling forms. You had gotten used to your routine with your professor, he gives you work to do, you do it and if he feels 'generous' he gives you a thick stack of papers to mark, now handing you long essays that make your brain ache. 

You noted that there was still an awkward tension between the two of you, he seemed to want to avoid you as much as possible. When you are alone with him, he would sit far from you but you could feel his sharp eyes on you from time to time. 

One of the days you wore a short skirt, the skirt was going to shorten Alhaitham's life. It showed your supple thighs, a pen fell. Cliché but you of course had to bend down to pick the pen in front of your poor professor who caught sight of your pure white cotton underwear.

 This lead to him dismissing you harshly to go home early. Poor little you thought you did something wrong, so the next day you went to apologize to him for anything you had done to annoy him, this caused the arrogant professor's heart to skip a beat, from that day on he started to talk to you in a calm tone. Alhaitham noticed you thrived on praises.

He once slipped and had called you a 'good girl' and gave your head a gentle pat, when you had completed a whole pile of essays, each one checked properly. Your face turned a pretty shade of pink. 

The words "t-thank you professor" stumbling out of your plump lips, this left Alhaitham's imagination to go wild that night, jerking off to his sweet student, who has such an innocent facade when she is fully clothed but when she is bathed in the LED lights of her room and wearing a sheer outfit..the innocence long gone.

 Alhaitham however, did stop watching her session as much as it pained him but he felt guilty to watch you now, knowing that you're his student and he is your professor..however the idea of bending you on the very desk the both of you shared always crosses his mind. 

It was the end of another long day, and you were packing up the last of your things in Alhaitham's office when you noticed the rain pouring outside, drumming steadily against the windows. The thought of walking home in that downpour made you shiver, and to make matters worse, you had forgotten your jacket. Again.

As you stood there, awkwardly rubbing your arms for warmth, Alhaitham appeared in the doorway. His expression was, as usual, unreadable, but his sharp eyes quickly assessed the situation.

“You forgot your jacket again,” he observed, his voice low and calm.

You gave a sheepish nod, not bothering to deny it. “Yeah, seems to be a habit at this point.”

Without a word, he slipped off his coat—the one he always wore that made him seem so imposing—and handed it to you. The fabric was still warm from his body, the faint smell of his cologne lingering on it. You hesitated for a moment, but the cold air persuaded you to accept it gratefully.

“Thanks,” you murmured, slipping the jacket over your shoulders. It was far too big, enveloping you in its warmth.

He stepped back slightly, his eyes lingering on you, though his face remained stoic. “You shouldn’t walk in the rain like this. I’ll drive you home.”

You blinked in surprise. “You don’t have to—”

“I insist,” he interrupted, already making his way towards the door.You reluctantly, following him, it was clear he wasn’t letting you walk in the rain tonight.

Outside, the rain had picked up, and you were more than a little relieved that Alhaitham had offered a ride. But what you hadn’t expected was the sleek black sports car waiting for you in the lot. Your eyes widened as he unlocked the doors with a soft click.

“This is your car?” you asked, trying to keep the surprise out of your voice.

“Yes,” he replied simply, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

You slid into the passenger seat, feeling slightly out of place in such an expensive, low-riding car. The leather seats were cool against your skin, and the interior was immaculate. Alhaitham climbed in beside you, starting the engine with a soft purr. The sound sent a shiver through you, though you weren’t sure if it was the car or just the fact that you were sitting so close to him.

As he drove, you couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly he handled the car. His hands gripped the steering wheel with a practiced ease, and his posture was relaxed, but there was a certain control in every movement. You found yourself stealing glances at him, your heart fluttering in a way that felt all too unfamiliar. The rain blurred the world outside, making the inside of the car feel small, intimate.

Your thoughts began to wander, and before you could stop them, you found yourself admiring the way his hair fell slightly over his forehead, the sharp line of his jaw, the way his eyes stayed focused on the road with that quiet intensity he always had. Everything about him seemed so… controlled, so perfect.

You bit your lip, trying to push the thoughts away. This was your professor, after all. But it was hard to ignore the way your heart sped up each time you caught a glimpse of him.

As if sensing your gaze, he cleared his throat, his eyes never leaving the road. “You’re quiet.”

You blinked, feeling caught. “Oh, sorry. Just… thinking.”

“About?” he asked, though his tone didn’t push for an answer.

“Nothing important,” you mumbled, feeling your face grow warm.

The silence returned, heavy with tension, and you found yourself growing more aware of how small you felt in his car. Every bump in the road seemed to jolt your heart, especially with the way he drove—smooth, fast, and with a precision that made you feel oddly vulnerable.

Finally, he pulled up outside your apartment building. T.he downpour was relentless, heavy raindrops hammering against the sleek black car as you sat next to Alhaitham. The windscreen wipers were moving fast, but it was as if the rain refused to let up, trapping you both in the warmth of the vehicle.

You glanced outside, watching the rain blur the streetlights into hazy orbs of light. "I guess I should go," you murmured, though you didn’t make any move to open the door.

Alhaitham's hand remained on the steering wheel, his eyes focused on the rain. "Wait," he said, his voice calm but firm. "It's coming down too hard. You’ll be drenched in seconds."

You looked at him, startled by his concern. His expression was unreadable as always, but there was something about the way his gaze softened as it shifted from the rain to you. The inside of the car felt too small suddenly, the air charged with something more than just the weather outside.

"You're right," you agreed quietly, settling back into the seat, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. The silence stretched between you, the sound of rain enveloping the car in a bubble of quiet tension.

After a few moments, Alhaitham spoke, his voice breaking through the soft patter of the storm. "You don’t mind waiting, do you?"

You shook your head. "No… not at all."

His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he looked out at the rain again. "I’ve never really liked storms," he confessed. "Too unpredictable. But I guess that’s what makes them interesting, isn’t it?"

The unexpected admission surprised you. Alhaitham was always so composed, always so in control. Hearing him speak of unpredictability was strange, almost like he was revealing a part of himself he usually kept hidden.

"I suppose," you replied, your voice softer now, feeling the undercurrent of something deeper. "But sometimes, unpredictability can be… exciting."

His eyes flicked to yours, something unreadable passing through them. "Exciting?"

You swallowed hard, feeling the intensity of his gaze. "Yeah. It keeps things from becoming too… predictable."

The corners of his lips lifted slightly, a barely-there smile, but it sent a rush of warmth through you. His hand shifted on the gearstick, fingers brushing lightly against yours as you moved to rest your hand on your lap. The touch was so fleeting, so subtle, yet it made your pulse quicken.

"What about you?" he asked, his voice low. "Do you like storms?"

You hesitated, suddenly hyper-aware of every movement, every breath. "I… don’t mind them. I think they can be beautiful. Powerful."

He nodded, his eyes not leaving yours. "Powerful, yes."

There was a pause, and then he added, "But dangerous too."

You felt the weight of his words, the way they seemed to carry a deeper meaning, one that made your heart pound in your chest. The rain continued to pour, but the world outside felt distant, irrelevant. All that mattered was the man sitting beside you, his voice, his presence.

"I guess," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper, "there’s beauty in danger too."

His eyes darkened slightly, his jaw tightening as if your words struck something within him. He didn’t say anything for a long moment, the air between you charged with an almost unbearable tension.

"You have a unique way of looking at things," he said finally, his voice so low it sent a shiver down your spine. "I’ve noticed that about you."

You blinked, feeling your cheeks heat up at the compliment. "Oh… I—thank you."

The rain began to lighten, the heavy downpour turning into a soft drizzle. Alhaitham shifted in his seat, but he didn’t start the car. Instead, his eyes remained on you, as if searching for something in your expression.

"Why are you always walking in the rain without a coat?" he asked, his tone almost teasing now. "You’ll catch a cold one day."

He was referring to the few mornings you entered lectures soaking like a drowned rat, either the coat your wore just got soaked completely through or you were rushing and forgot half of yourself back at home.

You let out a small laugh, though your heart was still pounding. "I… don’t know. I guess I never really think about it. Besides, it’s not that bad."

He raised an eyebrow. "Not that bad? You’re soaked every time."

You shrugged, trying to play it off, but the way he was looking at you made your mind fuzzy. "Maybe I like the rain."

His lips quirked again, and he reached for the coat you he let you borrow before. "Keep it," he said, draping it over your lap again, the fabric warm from his touch. "I’d rather not see you walking around soaked again."

You stared at the coat, your throat tightening. His jacket smelled faintly of him, a comforting, subtle scent. Your fingers gripped the edges of the fabric, feeling overwhelmed by the simple act of kindness.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the soft patter of rain.

He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he leaned back in his seat, watching you for a moment longer before speaking again, his voice soft but filled with an intensity that made your heart race.

"You look good in it," he said, his eyes lingering on you in a way that made your cheeks flush.

Your breath caught, heat flooding your face. You tried to laugh it off, but the way he was looking at you made it impossible to think straight. "I—uh, thanks."

The rain had slowed to a light drizzle now, but neither of you moved to leave the car. The tension in the air was thick, almost suffocating, yet you didn’t want it to end. The closeness, the warmth—it was too intoxicating.

Finally, you cleared your throat, trying to break the spell. "I guess… I should go."

Alhaitham nodded, but before you could open the door, his voice stopped you. "Goodnight," he said, his tone softer than you had ever heard it. "And… be careful."

That did it. You felt your face heat up instantly, the blush spreading like wildfire across your cheeks. You couldn’t even look at him, your fingers clutching the coat tighter as you fumbled for the door handle but you sucked in a breath and turned to look at him, your heart pounding in your chest. "Goodnight… Alhaitham," you whispered, using his name for the first time.

The way his eyes flickered at the sound of his name on your lips made your stomach flip, but you quickly slipped out of the car before you could lose your nerve and correct yourself. You hurried towards your apartment, the drizzle cooling your flushed cheeks, but your thoughts were spinning.

 As you walked toward your apartment, your heart pounded in your chest, every step making you more flustered. You could feel his eyes on you still, even with your back turned. When you finally reached the stairs, you hesitated, glancing back. His car was still there, the engine quietly humming, headlights cutting through the rain.

He was waiting.

You quickly turned back around, your blush intensifying as you hurried up the stairs, fumbling with your keys. Once inside, you shut the door and leaned against it, breathless and heart racing.

He waited.

The thought made your head spin. Alhaitham—the cold, composed, seemingly distant professor—had waited to make sure you got inside safely. Your mind was racing, overwhelmed by the sudden realization that had been building for days, weeks even.

You had a massive crush on him.

Without even thinking, you peeped through the curtains, just in time to see him drive off into the night, his sleek car disappearing into the rain. You slid down to the floor, your face burning as you pressed your hands against your cheeks, trying to calm the dizzying flurry of emotions swirling inside you.

He’s so… You bit your lip, a small, giddy smile breaking through despite yourself. He’s such a gentleman.

Sitting there in the quiet of your apartment, wrapped in his coat, you couldn’t stop thinking about him—how impossibly perfect he seemed. You had no idea what this all meant, but one thing was certain: you were in deep.

Two days had passed since Alhaitham had dropped you off after that nerve-wracking yet thrilling encounter. Your heart still fluttered at the thought of him—both your professor and the enigmatic man who had captivated your attention in ways you never anticipated.

As you wrapped up your work in the office, the late afternoon sun cast a golden glow through the windows. You sorted through your notes, the soft rustle of paper providing a comforting background noise. Just as you were about to leave, you caught sight of Alhaitham leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, a relaxed smile on his face that sent a flutter through your stomach.

“[your name]” he called, his voice smooth and inviting, laced with an undertone of warmth. “Are you ready to head home? I can drop you off”

You glanced up, feeling your cheeks heat slightly. “No need, sir. I can manage on my own.”

His expression shifted, the corners of his mouth curving into a faint frown. “I’ve kept you late too often lately. It’s only fair that I take you home.”

A thousand thoughts raced through your mind, each one clouding your judgment. He’s your professor, you reminded yourself, a few years older than you and incredibly accomplished. Why would he want to spend time with someone like you? Surely he could find someone more suitable—someone his age, someone more… refined. But his persistence won out, and you found yourself nodding.

As you both stepped outside, the evening air was refreshingly cool. The slight breeze played with your hair as you walked side by side to his car, your hearts beating faster with the thrill of being alone together. The tension hung thick in the air, each shared glance igniting sparks between you.

“You’ve been a great help lately,” he began once the both of you entered the car, his tone light yet earnest. “I thought it would be nice to treat you to dinner. There’s a little place nearby that I think you’d enjoy.”

Your heart skipped at the thought. “You didn’t have to do that, Professor.”

He looked at you with an intensity that made your breath catch. “I wanted to.”

The two of you arrived at the quaint little restaurant, a cozy atmosphere that felt intimate despite its bustling clientele. Alhaitham held the door open for you, and you slipped inside, feeling like a whirlwind of emotions. The soft chatter around you was comforting, but your focus remained on him.

Seated across from each other, you took a moment to appreciate how he looked in the warm light—his hair perfectly tousled, his sharp jawline accentuated by the soft glow. He was undeniably handsome, and it made you feel small in the best way possible. As he ordered a drink, you noticed the way his hands moved—confident, graceful, and somehow incredibly alluring.

When the server brought out your meals, Alhaitham’s knee brushed against yours, sending a shiver up your spine. You tried to play it cool, but you could feel the heat radiating from where your legs met. “Here,” he said, nudging a plate toward you. “You have to try this. It’s my favorite.”

You took a bite, and your eyes widened in surprise. “This is amazing!” you exclaimed, not realizing how close you were leaning over the table.

“I’m glad you like it,” he replied, a small smile playing on his lips. “What about this? Have you tried it before?” He gestured to the dish in front of him, inviting you to share in the moment.

You both ended up sharing food, your hands brushing together as you reached for the same dish, an electric charge buzzing in the air between you. Every fleeting touch felt like a promise, igniting your heart and muddling your thoughts. As you took a sip of his beer, you grimaced at the bitter taste, wrinkling your nose in displeasure.

“This is horrible!” you laughed, unable to contain your reaction. “How do people drink this stuff?”

Alhaitham chuckled, a low, rich sound that sent butterflies flitting through your stomach. “Not everyone has your refined palate, apparently.” He raised an eyebrow, taking a sip from the same glass, unbothered by the lipstick stains you left behind.

Your heart raced at the implication, and for a moment, the world around you faded. Was this an indirect kiss? You felt dizzy, the beer mixing with the heat of the moment, leaving you in a haze. The air crackled with tension, and you found yourself leaning closer, your pinkies almost touching on the table.

As the evening progressed, you became more aware of the way you bumped shoulders while walking out of the restaurant, how his hand would occasionally brush against yours. You couldn’t help but think about how Alhaitham would make the perfect boyfriend. A man who was intelligent, considerate, and undeniably charming.

But you shook those thoughts away, reminding yourself of the reality: he was your professor, an accomplished linguist, and you were just a cam girl with secrets. Still, the way he looked at you—like you were the only person in the room—made your heart flutter, and you found it harder to resist the allure of what could be. 

The drive to your apartment was a light hearted one as you reached your apartment building, Alhaitham paused, turning to face you. “Thank you for your help today, [Your name]. I appreciate it,” he said, his voice low and sincere.

“Thank you, Professor Alhaitham,” you replied, feeling a rush of warmth spread through you.

“Alhaitham is just fine,” he corrected softly, his gaze lingering on you.

With a nervous smile, you nodded, feeling like you were crossing some invisible line. “Alright, Alhaitham.”

“Goodnight,” he said, his eyes holding yours for a moment longer than necessary.

“Goodnight,” you echoed, stepping back as you watched him turn to leave.

But as you climbed the stairs to your apartment, your heart raced, and your thoughts swirled with excitement and confusion. You peeked through the curtains and saw him still parked there, and your cheeks flushed at the thought of his caring presence as you watched the car start to leave and fade away into the distance.

With a heavy sigh, you sank to the floor, your back against the wall, your mind racing as you realized you had developed a big fat crush on your handsome linguistic professor.

That dinner had been a whirlwind of emotions, and just when you thought the evening would settle, reality hit you like a wave.

You glanced around your apartment, noticing the bills piled on your desk and the ever-present worry about your finances creeping back in. You sighed, frustration bubbling inside you. Money was running low, and you knew what that meant. You had to do a cam session tonight.

Reluctantly, you shuffled to your room and changed into your outfit. You picked out a set of teal lingerie, the fabric soft against your skin, accentuating your curves in a way that made you feel both confident and exposed. As you slipped into the delicate pieces, you caught your reflection in the mirror. The bold colour brought out the warmth in your skin, and for a moment, you felt beautiful.

You quickly set up your camera and adjusted the lighting, trying to create the perfect ambiance. The familiar rush of excitement and nerves tingled in your stomach as you prepared to go live. With one last deep breath, you clicked the button to start the stream, greeting your audience with a sultry smile.

Minutes passed, and you fell into your routine, losing yourself in the performance. You teased and interacted with your viewers, each comment igniting a spark within you. You knew the thrill of being seen, desired, and appreciated, even if it felt like a secret life hidden from everyone else.

Just as you started to really get into it, a notification popped up. You glanced at the screen, and your heart dropped. 

User1102 has joined the stream.

You felt a familiar flutter of nerves in your stomach but brushed it aside, focusing on your performance. 

You just wanted to do something simple tonight, quickly. You pushed the small fabric that covered your mound, your fingers immediately went below, rubbing slow circles along your clit as your other hand groped at your covered chest. You let your eyes flutter, the image of Alhaitham's half-lidded gaze falls on you, a soft moan leaving past your parted lips. Your mind remembering every detail of his fingers. Strong and thick. You inserted two fingers into your soaking cunt, imagining your professor's fingers sinking within you feeling your walls flutter against him. Your mind remembering the smell of him, the warmth he radiated, his fleeting touches and the way he stared at you. A sob mixed with a moan leaves past your lips, your back aching off the bed adding more to your pleasure. 

His beautiful face came into view, you wondered how his tongue will feel agaisnt your neck, his large hands roaming your body, corrupting your body. The sudden image of you sprawled on his office desk came to mind, your fingers moving even faster, your sleek dripping onto the sheets, clit twitch as you squeezed your left breast Alhaitham's big hand squeezing it instead.

Then, without thinking, you let slip the words you never thought you’d say. “Ah, Pr-professor!” Your heart dropped as you realized what you had just said but your hand seemed to move faster, your toes curling in pleasure.

On the other side of the screen, Alhaitham’s eyes widened, shock and disbelief washing over him. He said he wasn't going to join your sessions again but tonight he was so allured by you, he missed you and wanted to see you again and just by luck you were live, but now hearing you call out his title made him groan, a mix of arousal and confusion coursing through him, his hand gripping tightly onto his cock as he starts to move his hand up and down fast, imagining that your tight hole was his hand instead. 

The sight of you in that teal lingerie, completely lost in your own world, only fueled his desires. He had thought about you too many times since that dinner, and now, knowing you were unknowingly calling out to him while you were so vulnerable, his mind raced with conflicting emotions.

Your voice continued, unaware of the effect you were having on him. “I-I can’t help it… I need more.” You cried out, your thighs trembling from pleasure. 

Alhaitham clenched his jaw, the tension building within him. The line between your two worlds had just blurred, and he found himself caught in a whirlwind of emotions he never anticipated. Did you really see him as a professor, or was there something more there?

You finally looked up at the camera, your eyes making contact with his teal ones as if you knew he was watching you a shaky sob escapes past your lips.

"Alha-AHH" the words that wanted to leave your mouth got cut short as your screamed from the suddenly immense of pleasure your brought yourself, you squirted. The clear fluid drenching your sheets and thighs as your fingers still moved in you to ride off your high.

Alhaitham's eyes widen at the words that wanted to leave his mouth. Was you about to say his name ? This caused his red tip to explode with cum, his release coming down in thick blobs as it ran down his hand that still moved up and down his overstimulated dick, his eyes blurry, body sweating from the intensity of his orgasm, a lazy smile itched on his face. His hand slowly coming to a still, his eyes darken as he watches you pull your fingers out and lick them. Your breathing erratic as your mind was jumbled as you thought that you had came just at the mere thought of your professor—your feelings for him swirling panic coursing through your veins as you registered the thin line that now separated your real life from your hidden desires for him. 

 Alhaitham tapped in 1000$ and sent it to you, closing the stream with a final click. His eyes remained shadowed, and his heart pounded erratically.

Oh he can't wait to see you tomorrow. 

Part 3

[hon3y-y]

how to be reader fuuuuck cuck!sukuna is making me cream. You know what that makes me think though... cuck!Nanami. He's old fashioned and doesn't know how to 'hook up' but that doesn't mean he doesn't like seeing the cute secretary he's crushing on getting split open in the supply room every lunch break

cw: spy-cam/non-con filming

YES YES YES!!!!

Nanami never took himself as a pervert but can’t help but put a spy cam in the closet. He tried to make it discrete, but from an angle where he can still see what’s happening. Every time he sees you get up to go to "lunch,"  he immediately closes his office door, logging into the live film to watch you. 

He’s so gross, even having lube stored in his desk drawer. He squirts the liquid onto his tip, letting out a hiss when the cold substance touches him. It sends a shiver up his spine as he spreads it, watching the screen when the man begins to eat you out.

You’re standing, one hand covering your mouth to minimize your gasps, and the other was rooted into the man’s hair. “Mmm—please, fuck me~” Kento imagined it was him you were talking to. The man’s hand crept up your blouse, pulling at the buttons to undress you.

He’s addicted to your boobs, it’s not even funny. Sometimes, you’ll come in wearing a low-cut shirt, and it’ll move to wear so he can see the lace peeking out. or when the shirts are a little snug, all he can pay any attention to is how soft they look. (Little does he know, you do it on purpose. who wouldn’t👀❓)

Nanami liked when you were fucked stupid, panting, and nearly crying with tears down your face. You looked so pretty, with your glasses slipping down your nose with every thrust. He could hear how you were trying to be quiet. it was no use, though, since it seemed like the man’s only purpose was to make you scream.

He liked when you were standing, noticing the shaking in your legs from how good you felt and begging for a release. The view from the camera angle was perfect, capturing all the ripples in your skin whenever he pounded into you hard.

Kento’s movements matched the pace of the guy fucking you, gritting his teeth when he felt close. He gripped his chair, letting his head roll back to enjoy the orgasms more. His cum came out in thick globes, coating his hand, which he used to draw out his pleasure.

Nanami couldn’t hide his orgasm to save his own life. cheeks pink, and his hair is a little messy; his glasses are a little foggy too. It’s only after the horny fog leaves his mind that he realizes what he’s done and feels so ashamed. He cleans up quickly, shutting the computer tab with a deep feeling of guilt in his stomach.

though, it doesn’t last long as he watched you try to walk as casually as you can to your desk. He notices the little trembles in your step and how you glance around, nervous to know if anyone heard you. so cute.

And just like that, the guilt is gone, and he’s horny again:(

[earthtooz]

ik ur in ur reo phase BUT HEAR ME OUT EARTH ONLY YOU CAN DO THIS

rin ACCIDENTALLY publicizing ur relationship bec mf got jealous as hell when ur face appeared in the kiss cam IN HIS GAME??????? WITH A RANDOM GUY AND WAS HE FUMING??? YOU AND I KNOW HE WAS THROWIN HANDS

thats all

I'M HEARING YOU OUT. warning for unrealistic scenario, i wrote this in like 20 minutes so it's unedited :p apologies for any mistakes.

imagine being rin's secret partner, the one he keeps behind closed doors because he values you too much to let the invasive eyes of the internet see. he values your relationship too much to let it get tarnished by social media, so he hides any affiliation with you like his life depends on it, only to come home and shower you with the adoration and affection he wishes he could show to the rest of the world.

in the spotlight, he is itoshi rin, japan's prized striker, their golden player, but when he's out of the spotlight, he is your lover. the man who drapes himself over you when things get too rough and he needs a breather. he is yours to cherish, where you have to change your phone wallpaper every other week because there's so many good photos of you two. he is yours to love, he is yours to go to when you feel too lonely, he is yours.

but also imagine, itoshi rin's jealousy and possessiveness no longer being able to rest at bay. it'd been accumulating for the past few weeks, this desire to show you off and boast that it's him who gets to know you like no other.

then the cup overfills, his jealousy tearing him by the seams that he loosely stitched together to withhold this carnal beast resting within him.

all because of a damn kiss cam.

you had been sitting in the vip section of the stadium- where special members are granted tickets, and even though you tell rin that it's fine for you to just sit in the general area, he refuses and tells you that he's bought you the ticket anyway. leaving you with no room for arguments. well. not that there was any to begin with.

anyways, you'd just so happen to sit next to someone who bought vip tickets with no affiliation with any blue lock members. you think he's just a die hard fan, so when he asks you if you like them, you lie and say that you won these tickets at a raffle.

the guy wasn't the most favourable person ever, in fact, you found yourself awkwardly responding to what he was saying, sometimes giving him short and succinct replies because of how... weird... he was. not to be disrespectful but you did not like his vibes. you just hope these 90 minutes can be over quickly.

yeah well, how funny is it that the kiss cam lands on you and the insufferable guy beside you?

you're mortified when you see it on the screen but the person beside you doesn't warrant the same reaction. immediately, he turns to face you, anticipation heavy on his features. in fact, he looks rather... excited...

"no, no, i have a boyfriend, i-" you begin abruptly as he leans in and you have no choice but to helplessly lean back, evading his lips and delaying it as much as you can. you even try rejecting him by frantically waving your hands, panicked and unsure of what to do.

until you hear him.

"back. the. fuck. off!" comes a shout from the pitch; the voice very familiar to your ears that you can't help but instantly relax from hearing it.

your seat was relatively close to the field which meant that those around you could hear the distinct voice of itoshi rin ripping through the air, fury evident and baring its fangs as he all but punches the barrier with each word.

however, everyone in the stadium could see itoshi rin as all cameras pan to him, witnessing his wrath as he shouts from the top of his voice. everyone around you is silent and you don't know whether you want to shrivel up into the ground or run to him and embrace him as tightly as you can. to find sanctuary in his warmth, away from the pushy guy who can't wrap his head around the idea that no means no.

itoshi rin decides for you, effortlessly jumping over the (considerably high???) barrier and making a beeline for you, skipping some stairs. thank goodness for a side seat because he comes to a stop before you, adrenaline still coursing through his veins as he looks at you with heated passion, huffing and puffing.

"rin?" you whisper. he doesn't hear it, looking up at the various stadium screens to see if the kiss cams were still on you. smirking in satisfaction when he realises they are, rin all but pulls you up from your seat and kisses you with so much intensity and fervour that you feel lightheaded. very much so.

the stadium is cheering but you can't focus on it, not when rin's holding you to him so closely, practically trying to meld you to him. not even trying to push him away is enough to snap him out of whatever primal instinct has taken over him, so you grab his face and jerk away from him, not wanting to get too carried away.

before you can utter a word, rin looks behind you, and the coldness in his expression says everything you need to know.

he doesn’t care about dignity at this point. he just needed the world to know that you were his.

"you're dead if you try that again, you lukewarm fuckface," he then turns to you. you shiver from the intensity of his gaze. "i'll kill him next time," he promises before hugging you close to him once again, practically glaring at the cameras. "i'll kill anyone who tries to get to close."

THANK YOU FOR THIS ANON would u believe me if i said i'd been waiting for an opportunity like this? well i'm speaking the truth and i'm so glad u gave me the opportunity i've been waiting for AYEEEEEEE COME BACK ANY TIME YOU ARE SO WELCOME ON THE EARTHTOOZ BLOG, PRETTY <33

—

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[tyuns-world]

⌞ My personal cam girl ⌝

Pairing: Camgirl!reader x taehyun

Genre: smut

Warnings: 18+ (MDNI)

Summary: Taehyun has an obsession with his favorite cam girl but can he be cured of it when he runs into a cute stranger.

Wc: 2k

Taehyun was an ordinary man with a seemingly typical life. He worked diligently in marketing and maintained a regular exercise routine. His good looks did not go unnoticed, as he frequently received compliments on his attractiveness. Despite this, he was never seen with a romantic partner, and his sex life was virtually nonexistent.

The reason behind this was Taehyun's secret struggle: he wasn't just addicted to pornography; he was obsessed with a particular cam girl. It was a sticky situation for him, having to hide his sexual deviancies. His room was a shrine to you, with posters and signed postcards framed and displayed all over his walls and nightstands. He could never let anyone into his room because of this, keeping it locked at all times when guests are over. Who would ever understand his need to worship such a goddess?

He watched your streams religiously, never missing a single one. Even if a stream coincided with an important event, he would simply cancel the event to stay home and watch you. He followed all your social media accounts and was always the first to like your posts, the biggest gifter, and the most active supporter. You knew his username by heart, thanks to all the donations and gifts he had given you. A sense of pride and joy filled his body whenever you said his username to thank him. The only problem was that his favorite goddess remained faceless, always adorning elaborate masquerade masks during streams and in pictures.

As usual Taehyun finds himself out shopping for a new gift to give his goddess. You tend to love plushies more than the sex toys you're often gifted, a trait he finds utterly charming. As he spots a huge Rilakkuma plushie that he knows would be perfect for you, another hand reaches for it at the same moment.

"Oh, I'm sorry," says a sweet voice. Taehyun looks down to see an absolutely adorable girl. Her braided hair is tied up with a cute pink bow, and her bright, round eyes are accentuated with charming eyeshadow. Her dark skin looks soft to the touch, and her wide, cute nose adds to her endearing appearance. Her lips are plump and glossy, enhanced with alluring lipstick. She's wearing an outfit that Taehyun is certain he has seen before. "Oh no, it's okay. I'm sure there's another one I can get. You can have this one," Taehyun says, taking the plushie off the shelf and handing it to the girl. He's never found anyone this cute—besides his goddess, of course—and it's making him nervous. What is he doing, giving away the perfect gift for his goddess? The girl takes the plushie from him, and her eyes light up with happiness.

"Cute," Taehyun murmurs, taken aback by his own words. He tenses up, his heart racing.

The now embarrassed girl hides her face, her eyes peeking shyly over the big plush.

"Oh, I'm sorry, it's just—" Taehyun starts to ramble, his words tumbling out in a rush.

"No, it's okay. Um, thank you for the plush..." she trails off, waiting for Taehyun to introduce himself.

"Taehyun," he finishes, his voice softening.

"Well, this is a bit forward, Taehyun, but can I have your number? I mean, maybe we can have joint custody," the girl giggles, her laughter like honey to Taehyun's ears. He's never been this taken by anyone before, except his perfect cam girl. This girl is so different—more cutesy and shy—whereas his goddess is confident, sexy, bold, and a mistress in her own right. Her soft demeanor is a stark contrast, making his heart race even more.

"Yeah, sure, here's my contact information." Taehyun isn’t sure why he’s following this girl's whims, but her aura makes him want to do anything for her. After they exchange numbers, the strange cutie toddles off to pay at the counter. Taehyun smiles to himself, thinking about how adorable she looks, until he notices a problem at the register. He hurries over. "Hey, what’s up?" he asks the girl.

She looks at him, clearly upset. "I forgot my wallet. I’m such a ditz, and the cashier says they can’t hold it for me," she says, her voice trembling on the edge of tears. All this over a plushie—she must really love them. "It’s fine, I’ll pay. You can give me half later since we have joint custody," Taehyun says with a reassuring smile.

"Are you sure? The guy says it's $250," she says, looking at him worriedly.

"Yeah, I've spent more on a plush," Taehyun laughs it off, paying the cashier and starting to hand over the plushie. The girl stops him. "No, no, you can have the first week until I pay you back. Then our son is mine," she insists with a playful smile. Taehyun barely has a chance to respond before she leaves the store, waving his number in the window and mouthing, "I'll text you," before disappearing into the crowd. He watches her go, the playful exchange leaving him feeling lighter and more excited than he had in a long time.

It has been exactly a week since then, and Taehyun is starting to wonder if she'll ever contact him. He tells himself he'll be perfectly fine if she doesn't; he can always go back to his original plan and gift the plushie to his favorite cam girl. Sitting in his apartment, he eats a sad dinner of buldak and spam when a ping comes from his phone. He checks it excitedly, hoping it might be the cute stranger. His heart sinks a bit when he sees it's just a notification for a random live stream from you.

He shakes his head—how could he be disappointed when his goddess is doing an extra live for her fans? He abandons his dinner, bolting to his room to set up the stream on his PC for better quality. "Hello, my pups. Today, I have sad news for all you degenerates. I will be taking a hiatus to focus on some other stuff, but don't worry, I'll send out this month's care package and this stream will be extra steamy because I know whatever I do, y'all will like it." The stream is indeed steamy. Taehyun almost pathetically came without even touching himself. You were just so sexy and knew exactly how to move your body, captivating him completely. The way you move, the sultry tone of your voice, and the seductive looks you give the camera hold him spellbound, making him forget everything else.

When your stream ends, Taehyun finds himself rewatching it to get off. He can't do it when you're live; he has to focus entirely on every movement you make. As Taehyun strokes himself through his boxers, his arm flexing, showcasing his muscular stature, with pants long discarded halfway through the stream, he finds himself imagining the face of the pretty girl he saw over your covered one. Thoughts of her glossy lips wrapping perfectly around his hard cock flood his mind. He envisions the seductive scene, imagining how sexy it would be to reduce her to a ruined mess beneath him. The image of her innocent eyes looking up at him, filled with desire, fuels his arousal. That night, he comes harder than he ever has before, his body trembling with the intensity of his release.

While tidying up, another notification buzzes on Taehyun's phone. Glancing at it briefly, he's surprised to find a new number texting him: "Where shall we meet to discuss our 'joint custody'?" Hastily wiping himself clean, he discards the tissue and rubs his sticky hands against the bottom of his shirt. With trembling fingers, he responds, "There's a cozy café near the store where we met. How about meeting there?" Anxious for her reply, Taehyun nervously bites his nails until his screen illuminates with her response: "Sounds perfect! See you there tomorrow at 3."  

Today is the day—Taehyun keeps reminding himself it's not a date with the pretty girl; it's just a talk. While tossing and turning last night, thoughts kept him up, and Taehyun realized he never caught her name, and curses himself for not asking.  Whilst gazing at his reflection in his coffee cup, fussing with his bangs for the umpteenth time, a sweet voice perks him up. "Hey, hope you didn't wait long." Taehyun smiles up at the pretty stranger, taking in her appearance. She's wearing a stunning red dress, her makeup more glamorous than their first meeting. 

"No, I haven't been here long," Taehyun lies. He's been here since the cafe opened at 11 am, though he won't admit it. "I see you brought the goods," the charming woman says, gesturing over to the huge, hard-to-miss bear seated right next to him. "Yep, just as promised," Taehyun smiles. She settles into her seat as the waiter approaches. Opting for the only tea on the menu instead of coffee, she leans in to whisper to Taehyun, "I'm not much of a coffee person." "Oh no, I could've picked a different place," Taehyun furrows his brow, angry at himself for never asking what she would prefer as their meeting place.

She lets out a laugh that's like music to Taehyun's ears. "Don't fret, it's okay," she reassures him, her hands briefly squeezing his before retreating to her side. "Okay, so I only have cash. I hope that's okay," the pretty woman in red starts to pull out a thick envelope, drawing some curious glances as she prepares to hand it over. "Um, I think it's best if we wait," Taehyun nervously says. The woman looks around and catches the hint quickly, putting the money back into her purse.

"How about we go to your place for the exchange? Do you live nearby?" she asks, her eyes shining with anticipation. Taehyun hesitates; he does live close by, but the thought of her discovering his secret makes him anxious. Yet, her expectant gaze softens his resolve, and he eventually admits to living nearby. "Perfect," she responds, rising from her seat and heading to the counter to get her tea to go. 

The closer they get to Taehyun's place, the more nervous he becomes. Despite his attempts to play it off, the lady can sense his unease, offering silly jokes and remarks along the way to loosen him up. As they approach his building and ride the elevator up to his door, Taehyun's hand shakes as he turns the knob. The cute stranger notices his trembling and takes matters into her own hands, opening the door herself and stepping inside. She gives a big stretch, her comment breaking the tension, "Wow, with how nervous you were the whole time, I was expecting a dingy, dirty place."

Taehyun's place is surprisingly luxurious, boasting an amazing view and expensive modern furniture. It's a stark contrast to his plain outward appearance. She carefully takes off her shoes and plops herself on the couch, and puts her drink on the coffee table, making herself at home. "Is it that you've never had a woman in here?" she teases, observing Taehyun's reaction closely. Taehyun tenses, a subtle shift that catches the attention of the cutie.

"Oh, you haven't? Do you not go on dates? I assumed with your good looks and all, you were a playboy," she remarks, looking at Taehyun with surprise. Taehyun shrugs, setting the plush on a separate chair before settling himself beside the lady on the couch. "Nope, I haven't had a girlfriend since high school. I'm pretty busy with work and my friends," he explains. "So, are you a virgin?" The lewd question, coming from such a innocent looking girl, makes Taehyun choke on his spit. She looks expectantly at him, as if she isn't asking a very personal question.

"No, I'm not, but at least take me out to dinner first before asking stuff like this," Taehyun jokes, trying to lighten the mood. The lady's eyes widen, seeming to realize the kind of question she just asked. "Oh, I'm sorry, I'm way too open about stuff," she says, her face warming with embarrassment. "That's fine. Do you want some lemon or anything with your tea?" Taehyun offers, trying to ease the tension. She shyly declines, focusing on her drink as Taehyun excuses himself to use the restroom.

Left alone in the living room, the cute stranger's eyes wander around the space. In all honesty, she was on the hunt for a new apartment, and this building looked perfect. She mentally takes measurements of the living room and the kitchen. "Hmm, I wonder how big their rooms are," she muses.

The cute stranger knows it's inappropriate to snoop, especially into someone's room, and if it's locked, she'll give up and go back to her seat. But her line of work requires a spacious bedroom, so her curiosity outweighs her morals as she turns the doorknob. To her surprise, it's unlocked. She flicks on the light and is taken aback to find a bedroom shrine dedicated to her.

"What the hell?" Taehyun's voice, filled with a blend of anger and surprise, startles you as he swiftly moves behind you, shutting the door with a firm hand. "I—" you mumble, ready to explain yourself, but stop. "Actually, why aren't you explaining yourself? You're the stalker," Taehyun looks taken aback. "Stalker? You came over to my place and started snooping around. I don't care how pretty you are; that's just not cool," he crosses his muscular arms. A normal person would've thrown you out by now, but Taehyun was willing to overlook this if you could overlook his obsession.

"You mean you didn't know?" you say, looking incredulous as him. His face twists in confusion. "Oh god, you really don't," you exclaim. You gently pry Taehyun's hands off the doorknob and stride into his room. Taehyun follows, intending to usher you out, but you begin undressing, causing him to blush and close his eyes. "Open them," you demand, Taehyun obliges. His body is unable to resist your command. You're seated on his bed, legs spread, and Taehyun swallows nervously at the sight. "All of this," you gesture around the room, "is me," you declare. Taehyun is less surprised at your announcement because as soon as he saw your stunning naked form, he knew. How could he not? He studied it nightly, thinking of all the ways you could use him.

Taehyun's mind races, from the situation at hand. He opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. Instead, he finds himself drawn to you, his gaze lingering on your captivating figure. You, on the other hand, seem unfazed by the intensity of the moment. With a subtle smirk, you break the silence. "Surprised, Taehyun?" Your voice is laced with a hint of amusement. Taehyun clears his throat, trying to regain his composure. 

"I... I don't know what to say," he stammers, his eyes still fixed on you. You rise from the bed, moving closer to him with a confident stride. "You don't have to say anything," you reply softly, reaching out to trace a finger along his jawline. "Actions speak louder than words, don't they?" Taehyun is powerless against your intense gaze, not knowing what to do next. However, you do and so you take charge, closing the distance between you two and pulling Taehyun into a steamy, lustful kiss. You reach for his hands, guiding them to your ass. Taehyun quickly catches the hint and squeezes it, bringing you impossibly closer to him.

You roam your hands under his shirt, relishing the feel of his defined abs beneath your fingertips. Taehyun's confidence grows as he takes the lead, guiding you backward until you fall onto his bed, with him on top. You try to assert your dominance by nipping and sucking on his neck, playfully calling him your pup, but Taehyun's exploration of your body quickly overwhelms your senses. 

His rough hands send electric waves of pleasure coursing through your needy body, and you let out a soft sigh of satisfaction as his lips pepper fluttery kisses down your neck. You're accustomed to being in control in sexual encounters yet you find yourself completely dominated by Taehyun's presence. As his fingers expertly trace circles on your wet pussy, you surrender your body entirely to him, lost in the overwhelming sensations of pleasure. "More," you pathetically whimper into Taehyun's ear, and he happily obliges, shoving two of his fingers inside your soaked, aching core. Your back arches in pleasure as Taehyun flicks his fingers inside your cunt, each movement sending ripples of pleasure through your body. You had pegged him for inexperienced, but how wrong you were; he effortlessly has you panting and moaning with just his fingers. 

"I'm close," you moan out as Taehyun expertly flicks his fingers in a steady pace. Instead of accelerating, chasing your orgasm as you desperately want, he removes his fingers, making eye contact as he sucks your juices off them. Before you can whine or protest, Taehyun lines himself up with your pussy and roughly shoves himself inside, eliciting a loud moan from you. Taehyun sets a teasing rhythm, causing you to beg him to go faster. Ignoring your pleas, he continues to use you as he pleases, driving you wild. As he nears his own climax, Taehyun increases his pace. You cling to him, the heightened intensity bringing you even more pleasure.

Lost in the intoxicating haze that is Taehyun, he whispers dirty words into your ear, echoing ones you've used when teasing your stream. Now, he uses them against you, pushing you over the edge. Your body tenses with pleasure as you release around him. Taehyun however maintains his rhythm, smirking as he practically fucks your orgasm back into you. "I'm coming inside," he declares, leaving no room for argument as he fills you with his warm cum. 

The now worn-out boy practically collapses on top of you, spent from the intense encounter. "Shit, I'm sorry for being a bit much," he mumbles into your hair. "No, you were amazing. I loved every second," you reassure him, running your fingers through his hair. "So, what do you think about doing this again? Maybe at my place, in front of a camera," you suggest, your voice laced with anticipation. Taehyun just mumbles an exhausted agreement, too spent to realize what he just agreed to.

[esthercore]

E-Whore (GN! Cam Boy/Girl Reader x HSR's Simps )

Veritas Ratio | Sunday | Blade | Jing Yuan (different scenarios for each men ♡)

Being a Trailblazer is amazing, but since it technically made you jobless, you needed some way to fund your shopping sprees when you visit new planets, so while some of your crewmates resort to farming calyx, you chose the easy way.

You had a hot body and you knew how to use it, making you an instant hit on the streaming site, moreover, as the site connected to servers in multiple galaxies, the chances of anyone you knew or will meet in real life knowing your side hustle are slim enough to never happen, right?

Wrong.

Now Jing Yuan, was shook when he first saw you in the Loufu, standing beside your crew as Welt talked to Miss Yukong, your arms wrapped around March's looking so innocent as if you are not the same cutie that helps him release his work stress most night.

He did his best not looking at you when he talked to the express crew, knowing he won't be able to help himself and will sink in those big pools of innocence who were gazing up at him with fascination and interest, looking so different and yet so same from your streams.

Out of everything, the poor general never expected to fanboying over a cam girl/boy. And it was already tough day for him, alright? Having to ignore his constantly ignore his horny thoughts, and his dick twitching whenever his mind drifted on you, knowing how close you were to him, how he can actually have a chance.

So the seconds man got some privacy, his hands were kneading on his crotch unprofessional he knows, but he was a man with needs and couldn't much than wait for the results once his plans were in action. So here he opening up the damned site, turning it on and looking at his favorite video, the first video of your he saw.

A neko cosplay.

He first heard of you when he overheard few young cloud knights simping over you, agitated when he hear them whispering about you than focus on their training. So that night he tried to see what all this fuss about.

The old man lazily opened the website searching your username, just out of curiosity and no intention to jerk off, only to be greeted by an clip of the cutest thing with cat ears on, and a cat tail but plug, sucking on a popsicle with your chest left bare, making him surprised by how sudden his cock stirred up, jerking of to clips of you, having the best session of his life, leaving him panting and twitchy, after splattering on his phone.

You were just so easy to get addicted to...

So in present when he heard your voice outside his office in the Seat of Divine Foresight, fingers fiddling with his stripper, it took him a good while to realize, he wasn't just daydreaming about your pretty voice but you were literally there, nocking on the door.

He hurriedly got himself together, throwing his phone on the table, and clothes fixed, o it isn't obvious what he was doing, greeting you with a charming smile.

Miss Fu Xuan has sent you to give him some documents, and he took it as an opportunity to invite you in, and talk to you, befriend you, just about anything. But then there was some commotion outside with two cloud knights bickering, so he reluctantly asked you to settle the documents on his desk and wait while he give the knights an earful.

Happily getting back, his heart racing at the thought to be in your presence, but then his smile dropped, as he entered back his office, seeing your face flushed red, as you try to hide you face by your hands, sitting all pretty on his seat, with the light of his phone lightly illuminating on you.

He was about to ask what's wrong, but shut his mouth, eyes widening as he realized:

Oh, he forgot to close his phone.

[sphireath-wisp]

#One, Two, Three, Kiss!

Sypnosis: You get put on a kiss cam with another person while watching their game live. How do they react?

Part 1: Yoichi Isagi, Micheal Kaiser, Chigiri Hyoma, Mikage Reo

Warnings: Jealousy, not proofread, the reader goes on the kiss cam with both girls and guys, short, cursing, a little suggestive depending on how dirty your mind is

Featuring: Shoei Barou (@randomnumber20, @ariachaos), Ryusei Shidou, Sae Itoshi, Rin Itoshix GN! reader

Shoei Barou

You shifted closer to your armrest, away from the guy next to you to highlight your reluctance. It felt more than just sickening - the cheers from the audience to go through with it, the shockwaves sent through your body when you felt a hand caress your forearm. You wished it was anyone other than the guy in the kiss cam with you, his touch disgustingly gentle.

Your feeling didn't last long though as you noticed the guy's grip on you loosen significantly, his fingers trembling against your skin. It felt like there was a sudden chill all of sudden. He gulped, eyes locked onto whatever or whoever was behind you, towering over the both of you.

"Babe!" You cheer with a smile, your shoulders dropping and a sigh of relief escaping you. Barou's glare melted away at the sight of you, placing a reassuring pat on your shoulder - though, it didn't take a genius to sense the anger seething out of him. "I'll win the game for you later, go grab some snacks for yourself first, I'll pay."

You felt Barou place a cap on your head, pushing the peak of the cap down so you wouldn't be able to see the horrific scene in front of you. You could hear a yelp and, from the corner of your eye, you spotted blood. For a moment, you felt pity for the guy, but that quickly dissipated.

Ryusei Shidou

Being in a relationship with Shidou was like adopting a clingy, violent, rabid dog from the street. Did you love him? Absolutely, without a doubt. Did you question why you loved him every moment of the day? Hell fucking yeah. Every time he scored, he would stare in your direction and give you the biggest shit-eating grin ever. Having front-row seats only made it easier to hear him ramble and boast. Though, it did make you feel content to see him so motivated.

Oh boy, did that all change when the realization dawned on you - you were on a kiss cam with the person next to you. The gaudy effects and filters on the screen, the hearts littered across the panel of you and that poor person, you could feel a migraine kicking in as you imagined the scene Shidou would stir up.

A hand wrapped around your waist, yanking you away from the person. "Shidou, don't do anything stupid." You attempted to bring him back to his (nonexistent) senses, though it was in vain. He was already cracking his knuckles, a hand holding the collar of their shirt and his other hand balled into a fist.

Desperate times call for desperate measures - you try to reassure yourself as you pinch his earlobe and pull him close to you. You lower your voice to a whisper, a little flustered as you part your lips. "Score 10 more goals and win the match, then I'll spend the night with you."

Without a single atom of hesitation in his body, he let go of the person's collar - practically forgetting about their existence. Shidou's hands are on your waist, pressing kisses all over your face, his giggling paired with a dopey smile. "10 more goals and I'll have the best night of my life? You've got yourself a deal."

Sae Itoshi

This man is completely absorbed in his match, he couldn't care less or so he believed. However, that unpleasant, irked expression on his face when he saw you on the screen with another girl said otherwise. He could control himself, of course, hands tucked comfortably into his pocket to hide his clenched fists, fingernails digging into the flesh of his palm, eyes lingering on the screen for a bit too long.

You make eye contact with the girl next to you and he notices it, his jaw clenching and his body tensing up. You talk to her for a moment shaking your head firmly right after. "I have a boyfriend."

His lips part and his shoulders drop, chin dipping down. The camera pans elsewhere and he scans the audience to find you, fishing his phone out from his pocket. You feel your phone buzz in your hand, instinctively checking it to see Sae message you.

"Don't scare me like that again."

He could see his favorite, oh-so-charming grin on your face, as you rested your chin on your palm. As your fingers gently tap against your phone screen, his gaze alternates between you and his phone screen. "Yessir <3"

He chuckles softly. "I'll treat you to something special after the game, be ready"

Rin Itoshi

He clicked his tongue when he saw you on the screen. Rin was already pissed with how the match was going, but seeing you on that idiotic kiss cam - not to mention, during the break from the match -only soured his rotten mood even more. His eyes narrow, the already secure grip he had on his phone hardening.

"Switch seats" You glanced at your phone, reading the message Rin sent. "Make sure that idiot doesn't try anything."

You smirk. The camera must have caught it because Rin immediately replied back, "What's with that smile?" Your hands lay on the armrests of your chair. Instead of moving like you were advised - no, instructed to, you melt deeper into the chair, really getting yourself comfortable.

"What are you trying?" He texts with one hand and the both of you hear the emcee announce that the game is starting where it originally left off.

You noticed his game has been a little off and while you weren't sure if it was nerves or the fact that you were watching, you wanted to provide your beloved boyfriend a boost of motivation. Crossing your legs, you text Rin after skimming through the messages he spammed you. "If you don't want this guy to try anything, you better wrap this match up quickly, good luck Rinrin <3"

Tucking your phone away, you stare as Rin dashes out first. He shoots you a glare paired with a smirk and an incredulous scoff. You check your phone for one last time to prepare yourself for an exhilarating match, humming to yourself as you notice a new message from Rin.

"You better keep your eyes on me, during the match and tonight as well"

[yanderestarangel]

Cam you write something about a shy dom Tomas and a shy sub reader?

TW┊soft!dom tomas, unprotected sex, ftm reader, afab anatomy, v!sex, praise kink, size difference, eat out, daddykink, blowjob, creampie, shy!tomas x shy!reader — both have little sexual experience.

♡⁠ You two are a sweet couple. The sweetest in Eathrealm, also at the same time you are the shyest couple of all ── You and Tomas are embarrassed to say what you want or feel to each other.

He is very closed but behind the "ghostly killer ninja" guise he remains a sweet and embarrassed man. You both stuttered with each kiss you exchanged becoming a shaky mess of smiles and awkward words.

Tomas would blush and tell you how much he loved you after placing his head in the crook of your neck to hide the blush on his cheeks — this also applied to sex, with several series of "Please can I touch you here?" Or "Can I cum please?" Or "Am I doing this good? Am I making you feel good, boy?"

And it was another one of those shy makeout sessions where you always sat on his lap while the two of you moaned into each other's mouths like puppies needing the touch and friction of each other's bodies — Tomas in another hand couldn't believe how perfect this moment was, he felt as if he was in a dream. You on his lap, kissing so softly and gentle, as you wrapped your arms around his neck. His hands were already starting to wander around your back, squeezing your soft ass from time to time. He moved his head to the side to taste the side of your neck, licking and nibbling on your skin.

"F-Feels good, doesn't it...?" He spoke in Czech this time, he found it more romantic. "I've never felt like this before, not as strong as I'm with you." He kept kissing you, trying to keep his hands near your ass, not wanting to go further, but he was so damn hard already. "You're so sweet, baby boy... You make me quiver."

Then, clothes are quickly thrown in some corner of the room and scattered on the floor while the ninja was already between your thighs with his head buried in your wet pussy, he leaned in, opening his mouth wide to lick and kiss your folds. He spread your lips apart with his fingers, kissing and sucking on your clit, making you roll your hips, trying to get in deeper.

"Tréba si to, můj, krásný chlapec." ( 'I need this, my, beautiful boy'. ) His nose hit your clit with each lick of his hot tongue as your hole became more lubricated by his saliva and your juices, you could see his face flushed as his eyes were fixed on you — your soft thighs squeezed his head and your muscles trembled, you were unable to say anything due to shyness and mutual excitement at seeing your boyfriend eating so well.

Tomas, on the other hand, felt his dick throb every time you tried to contain a moan and muffled it with your hand going to your mouth. In all his life, he never saw such a beautiful and petite man, He thought about how he could break you in half if he wasn't careful, the comparison was colossal, he was bigger, stronger and taller than you, plus his dick was thick to the point of being compared to your wrist.

"Mhm, such a sweet taste, I could die here... Damn so good..." He moaned softly, shoving his face deeper into your pussy, trying to make you squirm with pleasure. You moaned, gathering your courage as you asked to taste him too, after all, his dick was twitching and smearing his stomach with pre-cum, he was looking for friction with the mattress, just wanting to be relieved too. Tomas chuckled softly, pulling away for a second, looking into your eyes. "Sure, baby boy. But only if you're sure you're ready to handle it..." He said, making you blush even more.

"Come here, Come to daddy." He sat up, adjusting himself, his cock hard and waiting for you to wrap your lips around it. "Remember to use your tongue, I'll help you with it." He continued, taking a deep breath, wondering how it would feel to have his cock in your mouth, something he had dreamt about. You knelt down in front of the man with short silver hair who was already sitting on the edge of the bed — Your knees hurt from the contact of the floor on your skin ; your lips finally met his warm skin, the salty taste of pre-cum fitted perfectly onto your tongue, making you both moan.

Vrbada could feel his cock tingling as you started to play with it, licking the tip and every single vein with your tongue as you pleasured it. He felt his balls tighten as your hands started to play with them, gently squeezing and massaging them, making him shiver in pleasure. He grabbed your head with a firm, yet gentle grip, guiding your mouth up and down his shaft while he watched you, fully focused on satisfying him.

"Keep going, the sound you make when you suck my cock is so enticing." He started to groan even more, his cock throbbing, teasing him to the edge. "You're doing great, keep it up for me, please..." He gripping the sheets tightly, not wanting to move and ruin the experience for you. "It feels so good... I don't remember any blowjob being this perfect." He let out a soft grunt, slowly moving his hips, feeding his cock in and out of your mouth.

His hands started to gently pull your hair, not too harshly. You moaned more slyly in response, bringing your fingers to your neglected clit as you rubbed yourself against the soft pillow beneath you, looking for some kind of relief from the pressure between your legs.

Tomas was getting more and more turned on, watching you sucking him while you pleasured yourself, made his cock even harder, he was fucked, he was yours. And he didn't even think about it as a bad thing.

The Lin Kuei ninja pulled away, he was a jittery mess. He was worried about making the wrong moves, even though he knew that with you, it could never really be wrong.

He felt bad for not being dominant enough, but he was so shy about this kind of stuff. You were new in this, he was new in this, and he knew you two just needed to figure it out still.

"I know, baby, we're both new to this. I'll teach you, and you'll teach me." He promised, moving his hand to rub your cheek soft. "Please, come back, I need you... Can we change positions, right? I want to be on top, fill you up, it's something we've never done before." He said shyly, hoping this was what you wanted as well. "If you're okay with it —of course." He added, once again feeling himself getting harder, eager to please you — wanted you to feel as good as you made him feel.

You soon lay down beneath him, watching his blue eyes stare into your flushed face as his muscles flexed to find a comfortable position for the size difference between the two of you — some routine apologies and nervous laughter were heard from you until the breaking point; Vrbada felt your eyes on him as he approached, the nervousness fluttering inside his stomach. He needed to show you how much he truly loved you, how much he desired you.

So he slowly, but firmly, entered you, feeling your heat engulfing his cock. He was worried about hurting you, so he slowed down his thrusts, getting as far as to only half his cock in you. He stopped for a moment, looking into your eyes.

"Little prince, does it hurt? If it does, you need to tell me right away, I don't want to hurt you." He panting, trying to listen to your body, looks, and moans to understand how you felt about his size. Tomas smiled, staring at the way his cock would pop out of your pussy, covered in your juices. He wanted to see how far he could go, so he thrust a little deeper, noticing how you moaned softly, finding a rhythm with each thrust. He continued kissing you, biting your bottom lip from time to time, his hands wandering around, touching your body, cupping your breasts.

"Sh-shall I fuck you harder, baby? Let me hear you moan for me." He pulled out, only leaving a bit of his cock inside you as he looked into your eyes, the blue penetrating your soul. "So desperate to cum, pretty boy?” Tomas teased, slowly sliding his cock back in, thrusting gently.

"You want your daddy to fuck you? Yes, baby boy, you do." He starting to speed up, really taking control of the situation. He wanted you to feel how much he loved you, and what better way to do so than just fucking your brains out? The thrusts became rougher, he poured out praise for you even though they came out clumsily from his tongue, a mixture of clipped moans and the need to have an orgasm made him roll his eyes of pleasure.

He was the happiest man in the world inside your cunt, filling you to the brim with his cock and making you both a dumb quivering mess, begging each other to cum together. You were a good boy, and he was going to reward you, filling you up with his hot seed, making you feel even more special. He fucked you harder, listening to the sound of you moaning, the sounds your body made while he was inside you, your pussy sucking his cock, needed to fill it with his cum. He loved how you were taking everything he was giving you, never once complaining or slowing down. You were the perfect partner, the yin to his yang. The complement he never knew he needed.

"Oh, fucking hell—. I'm c-cumming. Cum with me, pretty boy." He grunting and thrusting into you as deep as he could while you played with your clit. It wasn't long before he started to fill your pussy with his hot seed, cumming hard and filling you to the brim. His balls slapped against your ass, and he couldn't stop moaning. He felt so relieved and happy, being able to cum inside you.

"Thank you, baby boy, for this moment... You always please daddy, good boy..." He panted, nestling his face into your neck, snuggling as he caught his breath.

˖ ࣪ ˖𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓻𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽𝓼 𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓮𝓻𝓿𝓮𝓭 ©𝔂𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓵. 𝓭𝓸 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓬𝓸𝓹𝔂, 𝓻𝓮𝓹𝓸𝓼𝓽 𝓸𝓻 𝓽𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓼𝓵𝓪𝓽𝓮 ˖ ࣪

[kokonoiis]

NOW LOADING . . . KOKONOIIS' KINKTOBER 2024 TOKREV FIC LIST

tags ; age gap , threesome , blasphemy kink , purity kink , camming , sugar daddies , power imbalance , stripping , exhibitionism , club sex , dubious consent , drug use , somnophilia , drunk sex , high sex , cucking , fake relationship , voyeurism , public sex , psuedocest , mentor kink , secret pining , consensual non consent , stalking , hatefucking

##SENJU KAWARAGI & WAKASA IMAUSHI ﾉ age gap, daddy issues, threesome the night before takemichi's wedding, your girlfriend senju tells you about wakasa, a guy she used to work out with frequently at the gym that she knew was going to be at the wedding. thing is, you already knew him, having had a one night stand with him a few years ago. senju immediately had to know more, but it didn't really seem like she was jealous for the reasons she should be jealous. oddly enough, the day of the wedding comes, and senju seems pretty adamant about spending time with wakasa during the event. it's a little awkward, but for your girlfriend, you'd do anything.

##TAIJU SHIBA ﾉ purity / blasphemy kink the church was otherwise silent other than the deep voice of the man on his knees in front of the cross, his head bowed, searching for forgiveness for the sin he was committing. the sin ? you, spread out right in front of him, trying to stay otherwise silent like he had told you to be as he finished his prayer before he indulged in this carnal sin. he'd get to you, as long as you could be good during his prayers, and he'd be even more generous if you could recite a few prayers while he was in between your thighs.

##HAJIME KOKONOI & TETTA KISAKI ﾉ camming, sugar daddies, power imbalance both ceos of the tk & ko group knew that their new secretary had a secret hobby that you tried to keep separate from your work there, but personal lives always had a way of bleeding into professional ones. not that either one of them minded, either, and even supported you silently on their own before they decided that they would like to take part in your hobbies, too, since they were funding it. somehow, though, you didn't seem too against the idea of letting them join in for a few livestreams.

##WAKASA IMAUSHI & SHINICHIRO SANO ﾉ stripping, exhibitionism, club sex shinichiro had a look on his face that sent a shiver down your spine, but still you sat in between him and wakasa in the booth, your little latex outfit riding up your thighs as you listened to what wakasa wanted you to do for him. you weren't a shy person, not really, but something about the look on shinichiro gave you made you want to hide in a corner. still, you had to put on a show, and you were not in the business to disappoint.

##HARUCHIYO SANZU ﾉ dubious consent, drug use, borderline somnophilia he swore that it would be a fun little ride, that he would help you through whatever you go through. he assured you that he'd taken the drug so many times, of course he knew anything that could possibly happen to you. you weren't going to tell him no and of course there was a part of you that was curious, too, so you took the pretty pills. it would be okay, of course, you had haruchiyo there to guide you threw the trip, and if his hands started to wander, well, that was part of the fun.

##RAN HAITANI & RINDOU HAITANI ﾉ dubious consent, drunk sex, competitive sex you came to the late night halloween party with a guy dressed as the killer from those cheesy scream movies, but spent most of your time with the dj, who could shoot back shots faster than you'd ever seen before. you had no idea that the two of them knew each other, until you went home with the dj only to find the guy you ditched there as if he were waiting for you, and he certainly didn't seem happy that you left him for his younger brother. you'd have to find a way to apologize to him, even if your brain was a little fuzzy.

##SHUJI HANMA & TETTA KISAKI ﾉ cucking, fake relationship, voyeurism fake dating tetta kisaki had its perks, of course. it didn't hurt that he wasn't bad to look at, and he was pretty padded in the wallet, too. but the important part of the title was the ' fake ' in fake dating. as long as you didn't let the public know, you could see anyone you wanted, within reason, of course. you never thought you would exercise that privilege until you met shuji hanma. shuji didn't think he would want tetta's girl, either, until he met you. it seems you both had the same thing in mind, there was only one piece left of this puzzle.

##YUZUHA SHIBA ﾉ handcuffs, public sex yuzuha was never really the same after taiju was killed, but that was okay, you loved her still all the same, come hell or high waters. of course, you and your girlfriend had gone through this discussion before. if she was caught by the police and had to give a statement about her whereabouts on that night, you knew exactly what to say and how to prove her innocence. you were her alibi, so it was important you play your role to perfection. even in such a serious situation, though, you couldn't help but admire how beautiful your girlfriend looked, with her hands cuffed together in the interrogation room.

##SHINICHIRO SANO ﾉ psuedocest, secret pining, mentor kink you'd shown up at the sano family residence one day as many people tended to do if they were a part of tokyo's delinquent world, but you never really left. you weren't part of the family, but you also weren't... not part of the family. eventually, you got your own room to sleep in if you needed to. sometimes you didn't fall asleep immediately, though, too focused on the growing need between your legs, although you could never quite get there for one reason or another. shinichiro was more than aware of this, of course, and he was also willing to help you out, too.

##HARUCHIYO SANZU ﾉ cnc, stalking, hatefucking dating haruchiyo was the worst decision of your life, but it was far too late to take it back now. after you caught him with a camera inconspicuously put inside of a gift he gave you, you had finally had enough. lucky for you, your lease was ending, so you were able to move into a different apartment on the other side of tokyo. unlucky for you, sanzu wasn't going to let you leave that easily. he was never, ever going to let you get away from him that easily, no matter how fast or far you tried to run from him. he ruined your life, but that wasn't enough for him. he needed to ruin you.

[diejager]

First Cw: Smut, sex work, porn, cam girl, dildo, riding, dildo mount, self-hate, depressive thought?, whorshiping, tell me if I missed any.

Part 4

He watched your live, your body writhing in your sheets, back arched and head thrown back in pleasure. His body unmoving, body rigid underneath his armour, eyes unblinking and back straightening against the backrest, as he stared at his screen. He never touched himself when he watched you from afar, eyeing your hips rolling against the mount you strapped to a pillow, riding the dildo you suctioned to the plastic stand.

You rode it slowly, chest heaving while you ran your hands over your breasts in a sensual way, your finger running over your glossy lips, caressing your jaw and down the curve of your throat, your sweaty and shimmering skin. Your hands travelled down the valley of your tits, pinching your perky nipples with painted nails, a pretty red, powerful and vibrant —sexy in every manner. His eyes followed the hand that dipped down your stomach, over your slick mound and spreading your lips to show your viewers the silicone cock that stretched you out.

His hot breath sounded loudly behind his mask, it would've fogged up his glass if he wore any, his laboured breathing coming out in shoulder-moving puffs. His cruel eyes dilated, pupil rounder than usual as his eyes stuck obsessively at your cunt, his ears ringing with the loud, echoing squelch of your cunt and the eerie silence of his locked room, and body strained with self-restraint, fingers curled into a fist. He felt dazed, mind numbed to all but you and what you brought out of him: his slurred reaction, his oversensitive nerves and his increased heat.

You were like a drug to him —addiction, ascension, delirium. Your mewls breaching his broken mind and your bouncing body burning itself into his eyes, hearing and watching you gush around the toy, cunt fluttering wildly as you shuddered, hair sticking to your forehead and skin flushed. Despite his growing needs, the swelling that tightened his pants to an uncomfortable extent, he made no move to chase it, to soothe the pain and ache that filled his body, like a wave crashing against his scarred and disfigured body, and the wind blowing him away like the insignificant specks of sand that caked the earth.

He wouldn’t touch himself after the show, sending you money for the perfect show and drowning himself in a freezing shower to wash off the sin, his greatest mistake of loving something so precious and beautiful. He let his cock grow soft under the water, the occasional jump of his cock reacting to the arousal that still lingered in his bloodstream and the coolness of the water.

He couldn’t help himself, he promised, he fought, he glared, but nothing could stop a wandering mind, a needy and vulnerable shell of a broken man that wanted nothing but a fleeting moment of love, of affection —of utter devotion.

“Hello?” The voice was as sweet as the last time he heard it, the softness and affection that deepened his scars, “Nikto?”

“Милая,” his voice came out in a low rasp, throat dried and muscle dehydrated. He spent too much time hiding himself than caring for himself, “You did well.” [Sweetheart]

You laughed, your gentle and angelic chuckle at his compliment —fitting the stage name you used, Seraphim. He was reminded again why talking to you felt like a sin, blasphemy committed by him to his goddess. Perhaps he shouldn’t have called, daring to be so near a being much greater than him, pure and fragile. For all his self-restraint, he was a weak, weak man, always chasing for more when he’s already lost so much.

“Thank you,” you sighed. He heard sheets shuffle, your body rolling to your stomach, face propped up on your chin while he spoke to you on the phone, “When are you coming back?”

“Cкоро.” [Soon.]

Part 6

Taglist: @warenai @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @cutiecusp @ladyof-themoon @yourdaydreamerfan @blackhoodlea @daisychainsinknots @under-the-dirt @moansteur @iamnotfinedaddy @0alk0msan @katzarantos @danielle143 @bubbletae7 @artemeow @nes-kopi @notspiders @waves-against-a-cliff @brokenpieces-72 @princessboohaloo @petwifed @craxy-person  @aldis-nuts @randominstake @yanderestory @jggykhug09090 @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @redeveryflower @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @cummunistcat

[cybsoo2]

yandere bts profile

╰┈➤ synopsis — Stories of seven men living their yandere lives.

╰┈➤ pairing — yandere!bts x reader

╰┈➤ word count — 4.3k

╰┈➤ content warning — murder, yandere behavior, stalker behavior, manipulative behavior, graphic depictions of violence, kidnapping, suicide, self-harm, vomiting, invasion of privacy, talk of religion

—Kim Seokjin

yandere type — manipulative and overprotective

watch out for! — overprotection, isolating, self-imposing, monitoring, spy cams, invasion of privacy

Seokjin speaks sweet lies

He’s such a good liar that he’s even begun to deceive himself

He’ll tell himself these selfish sins are for the greater good

Misleading you and manipulating others is one of his many skills

Although he holds no affection for anyone else and is inclined to ruin their lives through manipulation, he doesn’t dare try it on you

Although the fate of your friends and foes is different, He’d never hurt you, wouldn’t lay a finger on you unless you asked

He doesn’t want your love to be a lie, to become warped and wrecked into images unknown

Instead, he leads you astray when you step too close to his sinful secrets

When a coworker with a crush comes too close for his liking, he’ll whisper the words, “He’s not good enough for you sweetheart.”

Your friends offer an invitation to get drunk one dark night, “It’s too dangerous to drink this late at night, stay inside with me instead.”

And maybe one morning, a slithering suspicion sits still in your mind

You ask him why he’s so protective, so passionate, so possessive, and he’ll tell you, “I love you like no other.”

Jin cares about your safety

He wishes you’d be healthy and happy all the time

Although, his methods of achieving this dream can have some consequences

He’ll worm his way into your life

He looms over you with a loving presence

But if he’s not careful enough, his ‘love’ can be suffocating

He monitors your actions, not stalking, but spying on you through other methods

He’ll set up cameras to make sure you don’t get hurt

Of course a fragile fawn like you needs him in order to survive

He takes the truth from your friends to figure out how you’ve been doing

He’ll read your messages to find the deviant souls that might harm you

He gives biased advice (Though you don't know it) in order to keep you close to him

Misleading your crushes by telling them that you’re already taken

He keeps you away from everyone else, so much so that some friends become distant and disturbed at the sight of him

Jin is willing to be whatever you what so long as he can stay by your side

He’ll be your friend, a brother, a lover

He’s perfect for you, if it weren’t from the looming sense of danger that falls in his shadow

—Min Yoongi

yandere type — obsessive and possessive

watch out for! — murder, codependency, self-containment

Yoongi hides his true nature behind longing looks and a distant friendship

He keeps calm underneath a cold exterior

Yoongi stays to himself and watches you from afar

He may murder any pests that cross your path, but he wouldn’t dream of hurting you

You’d never assume he mutilates men and women while you sleep

He brings you glory through each slash and stab of scarlet

Yoongi just might be a cruel killer, but the worst types of killers are those who’ve become self aware

He holds a court of immoral justice in his head 

Killing based off bias, yet he can’t find himself to care

You’ve made him into a merciless man, which is why he can’t stop once he’s set his mind on something

He’ll put on a plaster face, he’ll be kind, and quiet, and normal 

Yet even if his body stays at shore, a selfish need sings him out to sea

Yoongi believes in codependency, you need him and he needs you

He may put himself in a position that demands him to be close to you

He could be a coworker, a classmate, or perhaps a neighbour

But you can bet that you’ve met him before

Yoongi is too dependent on the normality you two have to act on his obsession

He understands his sick self and knows the consequences if he confesses

Yoongi knows that he won’t be able to hide the horrors of who he truly is, so he doesn’t even take the chance

He believes in a loyal love and couldn’t lie to you if you had a real romance

He’ll take what he can get and make sure no one else can get in the way

His obsession is closed away in the corner of his heart (But that’s not exactly true since his whole heart belongs to you)

His passion is put on the shelf to collect dust in the dark

A distant dream that had no hope of really happening

It rots away in his ribcage, tearing him apart from the inside out

His sickness is a symptom of this strange fixation

He throws up three times a day

The bile burns through his throat and now drops of blood join the rest of his lost lunch

A running list of other side-effects include: sleep loss, hypersomnia, depression, loss of appetite, etc.

Yoongi is always wanting the dream that waits

Sometimes, he sees a sliver of it in his sleep

A feverish fantasy where you embrace like lovers and kiss without consequences

But then he wakes up to reality and wishes this illness had never infected him

Your love is like a leech, bleeding him to the bone and testing his tenacity

But then tomorrow arrives and he sees the smile he’s so lost in love with

His inertia is eternal and he’ll never give up what he has for his unlikely odds

Your life remains pretty much the same except for the missing men and women that hurt you many months ago

You would never suspect that the sweet, yet shy Yoongi has his heart in your hold

—Jung Hoseok

yandere type — clingy, obsessive, and delusional

watch out for! — self-harm, suicide, dependency, delusion, mixing fantasy with reality, insecurity

Despite how intense his love can be, he never acts as more than desperate and delusional when it involves you

There’s no need to worry about mysterious murders when it comes to Hoseok

He doesn’t have the patience, planning, or guts to kill anyone 

He’d rather reap his worries and run away from the issue

He’s comes crying to you at the slightest inconvenience

You’re the savior of his soul who soothes all his sorrows

Such a saint you are, putting up with someone as pathetic and plain as this broken boy

Even when the roles are reversed and your upset under a burden of blue, Hobi will be your crying companion

He can’t help it, seeing you so sad evokes excruciating emotions

Someone as sweet as yourself doesn’t deserve to be depressed, which is why he’ll do anything it takes to be your sunshine in the storm

Hoseok is someone that clings close to you

Always following you around wherever you go and sticking by your side

Hoseok desperately depends on you, he may be your sunshine but you’re his hope

You’re the reason he’s like this after all

You gave him a glimpse of happiness, a unique thing in this large universe

He sees you as his angel, always right and a savior to the lovesick

Your kindness and compassion are what immediately intrigued him

But what made him unable to shake this obsession is how special you made him feel

You look into his eyes and you see him as an individual

You see his soul for all it’s crimson colours and still accept him

That’s when his delusion begins to distort the realm of reality

He truly believes you love him like he loves you

Why else would you take pity on a poor soul like him

His insecurities suffocate him, telling him he isn’t good enough for you

Yet you still stay, never once have you thought of the boy as a burden

This twisted love ties into his dreams

He dreams of the distant future: tangled in each others embrace, whispering your carmine confessions, and living out the rest of your lives as lovers

These fantasies feel so real that sometimes Hoseok swears they actually happened

That kiss you shared in the shadows last week? Totally real!

You falling asleep in his arms after crying out your confessions? Definitely happened according to Hoseok!

But when these fairy tales fizzle out, Hobi is left with lost dreams and a broken heart

Falling down from heaven, he’s struck by the hard-hitting truth

You don’t love him and even if you did he wouldn’t deserve it

He cries and tries to cut himself clean

Emptying out the red as it runs down the drain

He lets out the pain on his pinkening flesh

One day he may fall too far

Running the red blade over his arteries until all he can see is black blood

But he’s hopeful for now, this imaginary event would only happen if you turned to hate him

Screaming that he’s a psycho and a sinner

Crying cause you can never be alone, him always at your side

Telling him how much you hate him

Saying you wish to never see him again

It would take a lot for Hoseok to fully lose his heart

And the loss of your love is the one thing that would sink his sorrows

Without your light to guide him, it would send him overboard into the black abyss

—Kim Namjoon

yandere type — manipulative and devotee

watch out for! — collector, murder, manipulation, worship, extreme obsession

Namjoon worships the water you walk on 

Yet this twisted type of religion isn’t right, it isn’t even real

In his mind, you’re an angel of purity and perfection 

You’re the cause of every good event that happens to him

You single handedly uplift his life and give him guidance 

And he’s just happy to be the devotee to his one and only divine

As aforementioned, Namjoon is a collector

His entire home is a museum of memories

Tiny trinkets are stacked on shelves, and useless objects are crowded into of the corners of his room

But every piece has a purpose, each and every object leads back to you

Outsiders may say he’s a hoarder, but Namjoon remembers why so many red bottles are shoved under his bed

You endorsed a beauty brand and he bought out the entire stock

Now every time he does his nightly routine, he can sense the faint feeling of your skin on his

Shoved in his drawers is the jewelry you just wore

Replicas of bronze bracelets or ruby rings

He wears noir necklaces like a noose around his neck

Chained up under your control, you decide his destiny

When he wears copies of your clothes, sometimes he feels slightly closer to you

Like he can hear you whispering right from wrong in his ear

Telling him what to do and how to do it

Namjoon doesn’t think for himself

His emotions are almost artificial, only responding with empathy when it relates to you

He’s lost interest in the social scene, but still goes out to keep connections

He talks to people only to take their trust and ask for favours in the future

It’s common knowledge to anyone that Namjoon is easily infatuated with you

He doesn’t try to hide it and uses peoples intrigue to gain intelligence

But the occasional onlooker will sometimes sense that this isn’t just a common crush

They might’ve found out about his stash of souvenirs stuffed up in his attic

Perhaps it was how obviously anxious Namjoon gets when you’re not near

Or maybe they noticed the lovesick looks he wishes your way

But when Namjoon finds out he’s got a follower, he knows what he has to do

He’s not big fan of murder, it takes up too much time and it’s a mess to keep hidden, he’d rather it be fast and efficient

So he sends his sins out to sea

He has no time for torture and no desire to drag this out

Namjoon ties up his victim in twine ropes 

The ropes wrap around the writhing fool

Tether twisting around their throat and cutting off their cries

The rope scratches scarlet off the skin, leaving long lines that bruise purple and pink

Namjoon ties a brick to their ankles, bringing them back down to the dark

It’s the murder of a man who knew too much, sinking out in the open ocean with all their knowledge never to be known

The weight of Namjoon’s actions never wrestles with his heart

Uncaring and callous, he never stops to consider that these heinous acts hurt his humanity

Because in his brown eyes, this is all your doing

You told him to get rid of the fool that fell too close to your godly grace

You can do no wrong so this must be the new morality

Namjoon will protect your perfection by never letting any noble men come too close

Your sweet love must be kept a secret, no other weakling worthy enough for it but him

And even though dark doubts still taint his thoughts, Namjoon will spend the rest of his worship proving he’s your lovesick slave

—Park Jimin

yandere type — clingy and psychotic

watch out for! — isolating, self-harm, murder, suicide, dependency, jealousy, hysteria, insecurity, kidnapping

The gods gave Jimin a gift

A double wielded sword weighted with the opposite ends of emotion

His feelings are feverish and burn with a bright intensity

It’s all a sliding scale for him, switching out his soul for whatever worth

All-consuming emotions are what drives him

Day by day, Jimin is mostly described as empathetic and enthusiastic

And while Jimin is an awestruck soul, he also hides his more dark desires

Your love sets him alight

Melting away his walls to reveal the real monster

Violent thoughts flow thoughts his veins

It’s like a venom, monopolizing his mind and evoking his red wrath

Jimin isn’t an apathetic man, he cares too much about the things that make him tick and the love he lusts after

He’s incapable of indifference, always so engrossed in his emotions and their outcomes

Loving him would be like locking yourself in with a lion

Jimin worships you like you no other and makes you feel like you’re alone in ardent

But the burning candle that controls his heart will always end up blinding you

He’s too dependant, always running after you and following like a poor puppy

He’s too jealous, scared you’ll be stolen away by any other man

He’s overly enthusiastic, lovesickness so suffocating you have to beg to break free from his hugs

Jimin takes you two to solitude, liking to rest in your warmth without any else’s eyes on you

While the long list of turmoil may taunt you, it’ll only get worse when he’s upset 

Jimin has widespread worries that you’ll leave him like everyone else

Insecurities lay intimate in his mind and he’ll only ever speak them to his soulmate

He’ll spend countless days crying and trying to seek your sweet reassurance

When these dark doubts are ripe and rip his heart apart, you better not set him off or else the consequences are grave

When he’s like this, clinging to you and crying his heart out, it’s best to shush his sorrows and hold him to your heart

He’ll bawl his eyes out into your blue sweatshirt, white knuckles wrapped around the familiar fabric

He’ll try to hide the hiccups in the crook of your neck, slightly embarrassed for his emotional outburst

Jimin lies limply in your lap, tired out from all the tears but too vulnerable to let go

He chases away the cold in your warm embrace

You speak lovely lies of how you love him 

If this is all insanity and you truly don’t love him, then this outcome would be very different

Was it a rash rejection? Or careless cruelty too much for his heart to handle?

Either way Jimin would explode in a case of confusing emotions

He’d swipe the silver blade down to the bone, bleeding out all over the bathroom tile and trying to tell you how much he loves you

“I’m nothing without you and I won’t let you leave.”

“I’d kill to keep you, I’d die if you don’t love me.”

The universe is always against your relationship and if a situation where to arise where he can’t keep you, he may just kidnap you instead

A much more morbid scenario might even involve suicide

You escape and Jimin must now spend eternity alone

He’d wake up at death’s door with pills pouring out his mouth

A terrible taste lays on his lips and his stomach is swimming in poison

A life without his love is a life not worth living

—Kim Taehyung

yandere type — devotee and stalker

watch out for! — murder, stalking, invasion of privacy, voyeurism, collector, murder-suicide, insecurity, monitoring , worship

Taehyung is a cruel romantic

His thirst for your entirety is insatiable

This growing greed is what makes him so bold

He takes risks none of the other boys would dare to dream of

Of course, he didn’t always act so impatient

This restlessness for your red romance had started small before it spiraled into disarray 

Subtle acts of stalking or stealing is how it all began

He just wanted to feel close to you, whether that be through physicality or by objects tainted with your touch

Taehyung is a collector of lost possessions and missing moral

But it didn’t take much time before he grew tired of absent objects and started stealing glances of you instead

He watches as you wander under the moonlight

Your features burning like fire in his brain

You’re so memorable under the moon that he can’t help himself  from painting 10,000 pictures of your perfection

Taehyung sees himself as an artist and you his muse

His drawings dictate your every move, illustrate your emotions, and reflect your beauty

The days spent drawing last from dusk to dawn, and although he could never be bored of staring at your face and flesh, an emptiness begins to claw at his chest

It creeps in from the corners of the room, a cold wind that washes over him and makes him shiver

It takes hold of your image in his mind, making each brushstroke dull and distorted

Your pretty portraits lack your warmth, as does our poor Tae

He’s persistent in his pursuit of lifelong love, and he won’t stop waiting until your his to take

If Taehyung were to actually take part in your life, you’d live an endless eternity of claustrophobia and catastrophe

It may take some time, but you’ll begin to see the signs of your impending downfall before you can stop it

Taehyung’s love is tender and touching

It’s make anyone awe at the sight, but they don’t understand what goes on in the shadows

You’re an inspiration for his art, so much so that your home starts to look like a house of mirrors

Every element of your eternity must be captured, from the bare bones down to trailing patterns at your fingertips

He studies you like a statue

Staring at you all day, swearing at himself whenever he has to blink

Taehyung believes that your bare beauty is an eternal enigma

Your one in a billion and must be treated as such

He tries to show you his distorted devotion everyday, and this may be the only amount of pure peace you get

He makes you feel special, a divine entity the deserves everything you ask for

You were crafted by the gods themselves just for his sweet satisfaction

You were made for each other and nothing can change that… until it does

Taehyung’s always had a hunch that men and women all over the earth were jealous of your relationship

They try to tear you apart, saying your tainted by his toxic touch

He’s running out of time, slipping through the sands of the hourglass

Lost in their lies, he takes you to the one place where no one can separate your souls, heaven

Taehyung likes to think it’s romantic even, like star-crossed lovers born to be destroyed

He doesn’t flinch in the face of death

He’s so lost in his sick sense of delusion that he honestly believes you two are tied between the stars

Tangled up in each other, meant to meet in every timeline and be lovers once again

Both your sad sorrow would soak the bed he holds you in

He calms your cries with a hand held up to your trembling lips

The shivering steel of the gun touches your temple

He says that death will not be dark with him to guide you

You won’t feel the Reapers cold caress when he’s here to hold you

Taehyung gives your lips one last quiet kiss

Breaking apart only to breathe and whisper the words, 

“I love you in every universe.”

“Till’ we meet again my dearest divine.”

His last moment with you is a memory of red redemption

With his thumb triggering the gunshot, he blows your brains out on the back wall

You’re head snaps back from the force and lays limply on your shoulder

Blood bleeds down and begins to soak the sheets

Taehyung chokes back his cries with his hand still holding the steel

He takes your cold corpse in his tender embrace and readies himself for a restful end

He lays down dark kisses to the bullet wound that tore open your temple

He weeps away his heinous actions and with you still held close to his heart, he puts the last bullet in his brain

—Jeon Jungkook

yandere type — impulsive and delusional

watch out for! — murder, suicide, dependency, kidnapping, delusion, hysteria, impulsion

Jungkook is just a boy with a broken heart

Still learning the differences between desire and devotion

He twists the two into one, his passion is painful and his innocent intentions begin to wither away

That fiery fondness that once burned so bright now sends smoke signals of death and destruction

But what really matters is what moment of massacre you met him

Was it when he was still a shy soul? Susceptible to sin but also ready for redemption

Or was it when he was a man? Matured into murder and wrapped up in wrath

If you arrived early in the timeline of terror, then you’d probably be childhood friends

Playing pretend in a world without worries

Lost in a little kids imagination, you play house, yourself as the wife and him as the husband

This is when his kindergarten crush would begin to grow

As a child you’d call yourselves soulmates, but an adult eye would sense that someone was seriously wrong

Jungkook would throw tantrums whenever you left to leave, and when he didn’t get what he wanted, he’d turn to violence

He’d begin to grow dependant on his only friend

Playdates would pursue sleepovers which would then turn to him refusing to ever leave your side

Scared that you’d be snatched away if his attention fell too far

And as you grew up, got to know more about the horrors and hormones of the future, you’d eventually find yourselves as high-school sweethearts

Jungkook just like his old self, only better at hiding the bloodshed

The obsession would only grow as you get older

More things threaten your relationship and his anger and anxiety amplify 

But your impression of the innocent boy still stays the same

Sure he may be more dependant and delusional then most men, but he’s still your sweet boy

If an artist were to paint a portrayal of a lost lover, it would be Jungkook

Every day is a dream, you drink in his devotion and bathe in bliss

He washes away all your worries and takes on all life's labours

Your life would look pretty normal only because Jungkook’s good at burying all the bodies and biting back his paranoia

But when you bottle up your emotions for years on end, it’ll eventually explode in your face

Jungkook has always been impulsive, acting on his anger and making irrational decisions

His rage causes him to run on a rampage, killing anyone that could come too close

His fear tells him to hide you in the house and cut ties with the outside world

Jungkook is determined to obtain the life and love he obsesses over

Which is why when things don’t go his way, his has a fit of hysteria 

His tempers turns up to 100 and he may try to kidnap you

He’s abandoned all rationality and is recklessly driving your relationship off a cliff

His thoughts are so stubborn and he won’t stop once he’s set on a solution

No planning or preparation is taken in advance

He’s in a fit of frantic fear and reality is slowly slipping

Illusion is in his lungs, he can’t understand that he’s undoing all his progress thus far

So set on the end goal, he can’t see the death and decay until he holds it in his arms

It’s a sudden slaughter and he’s doesn’t processes your passing until you’re pale and purple

After a rainy night spent sobbing and still clutching your cold corpse, he comes to a conclusion

He can’t live with his actions, he’s a monster in a man’s body

He feels sick in his skin, he tries to scratch it off

Peeling off the pink to reveal the red undertones

His hands are still sore from the force he gripped your throat with, he tries to take those off too

He’s disturbed by what he’s just done

Jungkook gathers your blue body in his arms and takes you to the bathtub

He dies by your side, drowning in devastation

most to least dangerous — jungkook, taehyung, jimin, hoseok, namjoon, jin, yoongi

© cybsoo2 2024, all rights reserved ‎

[nadvs]

cam girl (part twelve) (end)

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

content warning alcohol use

summary you work two jobs. by day, you’re a maid for the cameron household, where rafe degrades you any chance he can get. by night, you’re a cam girl, hiding your face so nobody can recognize you. when you discover your new subscriber, the filthy-mouthed man obsessively paying you to do everything he can think of, is rafe, you’re not sure what to do next.

» masterlist

*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

Rafe realizes his hands are shaking as he rereads your text.

His eyes keep going over your words, standing up off his bed and pacing around his room just because the adrenaline won’t let him stay seated.

Why the fuck are you doing this to him?

i’m done. this is over. i’m not even a fucking person to you am i

Hot anger bubbles inside his chest. He immediately texts you back: what the fuck do you mean

Minutes pass. You don’t answer.

Rafe: ?????

Again. No answer.

Rafe: dont ignore me

He can’t take it anymore. He taps on the Call button. It rings and rings and rings. He texts you again.

Rafe: answer me

Finally, you respond: i dont need to listen to you. leave me alone

This has to be a cruel joke. Yet again, you’re cold to him out of fucking nowhere, after he thought you had a good time together.

Rafe recalls this morning, to the worried look on your face when you saw his black eye, making him think that maybe you see something of value past the wall he built around him.

He risked his pride by telling you that he always thinks about you, and now you’re done with him?

He texts you again: why are u acting like this

Thank fuck you respond.

You: i guess the slut got bored of you first

His body goes cold. He knows you’re referring to what one of his friends said. You heard that?

If that’s why you’re so pissed off, he needs to talk to you about it in person. He grabs his car keys and rushes out of the house.

Rafe is pounding on your door for so long that his hand is starting to hurt almost as much as it did when he threw those punches last night.

He feels himself teetering on the edge, getting close to the manic state he knows and hates.

He pulls his phone out to text you: open the door

You: ??? i’m not home

At this point, he sees red. He could break his damn phone if he didn’t need it right now. He calls you again, his jaw clenched so tight that it hurts.

His stomach tightens when the dial tone stops after two rings.

“Am I gonna have to block your number?” you say when you answer. The sound of a crowd and loud music buzzes in the background. He clues in that you’re at a party.

“Where are you?” he asks, head hanging, staring at the hallway floor.

“That’s none of your business.” He can hear a slur in your words.

“Are you drunk?”

“I can drink if I want to. I know you love to think you own me, but you don’t.”

Rafe swallows hard, shaking his head, squeezing his eyes shut. He heard your voice shake. Fuck. You’re crying and it’s his fault.

“Where are you?” Rafe repeats. “Let’s - we need to…” He’s stammering, anxious and unbalanced. “We need to talk… I swear, I’ll fucking wait here until you come home if you don’t tell me where you are.”

Your back is against a wall, the phone pressed to your ear. The room is loud and humid from all the bodies crammed together into one house.

You hate that you’re crying over him and you hate that he can hear it. As if his ego needs the boost.

“Why?” you finally ask, voice strained, hoping he’ll tell you what you want to hear. That there’s a part of him that cares about you.

Rafe is silent for a moment.

“Which one is it?” His chest is tight. He can’t say it now. Not over the phone.

“Neither,” you reply, then hang up. You know he’s just horny and possessive and mad. And definitely bluffing.

You shouldn’t, you know you shouldn’t, but you take another shot. Time melts away from you as you get lost in the music with your friend, determined to get Rafe and his drama off of your mind.

It’s half past one in the morning when you order a cab. The alcohol has almost worn off at this point. Someone spilled a drink on you and you just want to take a shower and sleep. You have to promise yourself that you won’t give into the impulse to wear Rafe’s shirt to bed.

You exit the elevator and your heart stops when you see Rafe sitting on the floor, his back against your door, his knee raised, his head slumped.

He meant it. He waited. For over three fucking hours.

When you get close enough for him to hear your footsteps, Rafe clambers up to stand, towering over you. His eyes sweep over your face, the blue in them even more prominent in contrast to the dark bruise over his right eye.

Even though your heart, the traitor, is thumping with desire, the ache of what he did to you is louder. It was barbaric, what he said about you. What he let his friend say about you.

“Why are you still here?” you say as evenly as you can.

“You can’t…” Rafe shakes his head, frustrated. He immediately notices you’re not wearing the necklace he gave you and his chest aches. “You can’t end this.”

“Watch me,” you say with a scoff, nudging past him. You feel him behind you, hear his shallow breaths. You unlock your door and pull out your keys.

He won’t move. You turn to look at him again, feeling your lips thin in aggravation.

“Rafe,” you state. “Please. I just want to shower and sleep. Go home.”

“No,” he says stubbornly.

“Why can’t you just go find another girl to fuck around with?” you say, raising your tone.

He almost feels nauseous hearing you say that.

“Are you worried you won’t find one who does everything like I do?” you ask. “I just can’t say no, right? That’s what you told your friends.”

Rafe looks down in shame, nostrils flaring. His lips screw up in anger. He has no words to offer.

“Go home,” you repeat. You’re sure he’s just upset about losing his favorite booty call, just so not accustomed to not getting what he wants.

Rafe doesn’t budge. You’re sober enough to know you can’t continue this conversation in the hallway and risk your voices carrying into your neighbors’ homes.

Frustrated and embittered, you turn your doorknob and accept the fact that he’s not leaving without a fight.

You turn on the dim overhead light and stand in your tiny kitchen, facing Rafe with your arms crossed, as the door shuts behind him.

He steps towards you, hands sliding up your arms before he leans down to try to kiss you.

“Stop,” you mutter, shoving him off, pushing him away.

He tries again, putting his palms on your cheeks.

“No,” you snap, driving him away harder.

Rafe feels hollow. Lost. He’s fine with showing anger. It’s second nature to him. But this? This tangled feeling of yearning feels impossible to verbally express to you.

“Why?” is all he can sputter.

“I’m not letting you use me anymore,” you say through gritted teeth.

Rafe had no idea you’d react like this over the moronic shit he and his friend said. He thought you were fine with how things were. That you were detached.

Despite the rage and anxiety consuming him, the fact that you’re this angry over this ridiculous idea that you’re not a person to him, that you maybe want to be more, makes hope bloom in his heart.

“It’s not like that,” Rafe says.

“It is,” you argue. “I’m done acting like I’m okay with it. I could handle it at the beginning, but…”

You sigh. You can’t give him the satisfaction of telling him you have feelings for him. You start to get choked up again, though, your body betraying you. You can’t hide what he does to you from him anymore.

“I’m done,” you say resolutely. This man is nothing but trouble. “My contact picture in your phone is a fucking nude. I’m just body parts to you and I respect myself too much to keep this going. Just leave. You won’t change my mind.”

“I can’t… I can’t not see you anymore,” he grovels.

“You’re just mad you won’t be able to brag to your buddies about what I let you do to me.”

“No.” Rafe brings the heels of his hands up to his eyes, looking so damn flustered. “I’m not mad about that. I… Fuck, it’s…”

“What about when he called me a slut to run through? You laughed. After he said something so fucking horrible about me-”

“Wait,” he snaps, tone rising. “Just wait. Let me talk.”

“Then talk,” you say sharply, shocked by his audacity to be the angry one here.

He takes a deep breath.

“When he called you that, I…” Rafe rakes his hand through his hair. “It’s how we always talk and I - I know that’s a shitty excuse, but I didn’t have the balls to tell him to shut the fuck up. And then last night…”

He vaguely gestures to his black eye. His mind replays the rage he felt when he heard the vulgar words used to describe you. The way his fist met his friend’s jaw. Rafe walked away with a swollen eye, but it was nothing compared to what he had inflicted.

“He said something about you and I beat the shit out of him like I should’ve the first time.”

“What’d he say?” you ask after a beat.

“It doesn’t matter.”

So, that’s what happened to him last night. You’re almost touched to hear he defended your honor, but the memory of the text you saw on his phone darkens your mood instantly, reminding you of how dispensable and cheap it made you feel.

“This the same friend who texted you about all the bitches at that party?” you say bitterly.

Rafe meets your gaze.

“You saw that?”

“Yeah,” you say. Rafe realizes that was the reason for your abrupt coldness. You were jealous. He hates that he hurt you, but admittedly, the feeling of you being envious over him is so fucking gratifying.

He sighs your name. He didn’t even glance at another girl last night. Why would he? “For fuck’s sake, I texted you all night. I told you I’m always thinking about you.”

“Rafe, you texted me about how all you want to do is hook up with me.”

“That’s not… that’s not all I want,” he sighs, defeated. How can he explain that the way he touches you is how he tells you what he’s feeling? He’s so fucking bad at talking about it.

“Then why did you talk about me like that?” you ask.

“I was…” Rafe begins. He swallows hard, his eyes refusing to meet yours now. “I know I shouldn’t have said that shit but-”

“You’re only saying this now ‘cause you got caught.”

“No, it’s - it’s more than that. I-”

“You were just being honest,” you say with a shrug. “I did everything you told me to and you wanted to brag.”

“Yeah- I mean, no…” he stammers. Your use of the past-tense is so damn hurtful, the implication that you really are through with him, and before he can think to hide it, tears start to gloss his eyes. “Just listen-”

“If I’m just an easy fuck to you, then that’s fine, just own up to it.”

“Let me talk!” he finally shouts. Rafe’s head is spinning. He’s angry and anxious and close to losing his mind.

You don’t even cower, not letting him get to you. But when you realize he’s crying, too, your blood runs cold.

“Goddamn it.” He frantically brings his hands up to his head, fingers on his temples. “I’m trying to tell you that I didn’t know how to- I don’t know how to talk about this fucking feeling you give me.”

“Try,” you say.

Rafe’s breath is shaky, blinking fast as he gazes at you.

“This is more than sex. I’m fucking… I’m falling for you,” he finally admits.

No words come to your mind. The air between you is thick. Your heart is pounding in your ears. Your stomach is numb.

Rafe lowers his gaze, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He’s worked himself up in such a panic.

He doesn’t know how or when you cracked into this side of him that he didn’t even know existed, but you did. And you’re not leaving.

“Are you serious?” you ask quietly through a shallow exhale.

“Do I need to beg you to believe me?” he says.

“Yeah,” you say with a sarcastic huff, pushing him to see where his limit is. To see if he’s being honest.

You can’t believe what you’re seeing when Rafe sinks down onto the floor in front of you, his knees on your cheap linoleum. He takes your hand in his, pulling it to his warm mouth, soft lips kissing your palm.

He realizes he would rather lose all of his pride than lose you.

“Rafe,” you say, the edge to your tone completely gone now.

The shift in your dynamic is harrowing. He’s always the one in control, the one with the upper hand. Now he’s on his fucking knees for you.

“I’m sorry,” he says, eyes locked on yours. “I’m so fucking sorry I said that shit. I’ll never do it again. You’re not just an easy…”

He can’t even say it.

“You’re so much more,” he says. There’s hopelessness in his gaze. You’re rattled with shock, your heart feeling like it’s burning in your chest.

You can’t believe it. You can’t fathom that he likes you more than just from the waist down.

“What if I stopped hooking up with you?” you challenge. “I keep seeing you but it’s nothing physical. What then?“

“That’s okay,” he says, without hesitation.

“I mean no sex,” you say. “At all.”

“Fine.”

You pout at him in endearment as relief pools through you.

Rafe is racked with the deepest form of desperation. He can’t picture a day without you. Without your smile, your humor, your voice, your smell. He fell off the deep end and there’s no fucking saving him.

Your stare is puncturing him. He’s sure he fucked up too massively to earn any sort of chance with you ever again.

But when you finally lean down to press your lips onto his, euphoria rushes through his entire being. He frantically scrambles to stand, feeling his face contort with disbelief and gratefulness and a yearning so hard that it hurts.

Rafe’s kisses are deep but fast, his big hands cradling your head, thumbs rubbing over your cheekbones.

You pull back, looking up at him with a tiny shred of remaining suspicion that he’s not being genuine.

“Let me stay the night,” he says, voice low, lids heavy. You’re unsure that he really means he’d be with you even without the sex.

You only look at him.

“I won’t try anything,” he adds. He knows you needed the reassurance. You stare at him with wide, vulnerable eyes, resting your hands on his firm, heaving chest.

“Shower with me,” you tell him, restless to wash the night off of you. “And prove it.”

Rafe nods, your face still in his hands. Fuck, he feels like you have him wrapped around your finger. He’d do anything to keep you in his life.

“Let me do the work,” he says.

You step back, heart racing, and raise your hands over your head. His fingers quickly find the edge of your top, slowly lifting it and pulling it off of you. Your jeans are next, the denim sliding down your legs.

Rafe presses against you, leading you backwards into your bathroom. His lips press against your forehead as he unhooks your bra and lets it fall to the floor.

He’s on his knees again as he peels your underwear off. You watch his eyes trail up your bare body. He can’t hide the lust in his stare, no matter how hard he tries.

As you turn on the shower, you hear the rustle of him taking his clothes off. When you step into the tub, you feel his body against your back. Big hands skim up your arms as you turn the faucet, prompting hot water to rain down on both of you.

Rafe can’t stop himself from asking.

“Did you talk to any guys at that party?” His voice echoes against the porcelain, loud even over the sound of the shower.

You smile to yourself.

“How am I gonna focus on another guy when you’re texting me so damn much?”

“Princess,” he huffs. You laugh and turn in his arms to rest your hands on his shoulders.

“No,” you tell him. “I didn’t want to.”

Rafe smirks and leans down, but stops an inch away from your lips.

“Am I allowed to kiss you?” he asks.

“Hmm… fine,” you tease. “But that’s the farthest you can go.” He captures your lips in his, his mouth warm. You feel him grow against you and you pull away to look down, his cock already almost fully hard.

“Okay, I can’t control that,” he says. You meet his eyes and share the first laugh that you’ve had together tonight.

You pick up your body wash and hand it to him. It’ll drive him crazy to touch you like this and not be able to do anything about it.

“You get my body,” you say, admittedly excited to tempt him. “And I’ll do my hair.”

Rafe’s forehead crinkles in concentration as he squeezes the body wash into his palm. Your eyes are on him as he lathers the gel over your shoulders first.

“You’re cute when you’re focused,” you giggle, starting to massage your shampoo into your hair.

The sound of your laugh, the aroma in the air is so fucking nice to him. It’s so you.

His palms move up and down your arms in gentle circles. Rafe’s groin is getting tighter by the second and the fact that he won’t get any relief for it is agony. But he needs to prove himself to you.

“You ignoring my tits on purpose?” you ask.

Rafe cocks his head in mild irritation. Touching you there will only make him harder. You exhale in pleasure once his hands rest on your breasts, gently kneading.

“You can’t make those sounds,” he says, voice strained.

“I can do whatever I want,” you reply. His hands dip below the curves of your tits. You purposely moan louder than you normally would just to torment him.

His jaw tightens as he collects more of your body wash to smooth down your stomach. His hands slide over your hips, the water and soap making your skin extra slippery, and he lands on your ass.

“Massage me a bit there,” you tell him. He huffs an aggravated chuckle, then starts to rub into your flesh.

The crook of Rafe’s neck is at your chin as he leans to massage you and you plant a gentle kiss on his wet skin. The gesture makes his stomach twist with adoration.

“Okay, that’s enough,” he mumbles, running his hands up your back. You can feel him against your leg; he’s fully erect and pining for you to touch him.

“My ass is still sore,” you groan, continuing to lather the shampoo onto your hair. “You were so rough on me in front the mirror, remember?”

The memory of fucking you on the floor in his room makes his arousal skyrocket even higher. He exhales and smooths his hands over your ass again.

You tilt your head to the side as you moan. You feel Rafe’s mouth press against your exposed neck, then he grunts against your skin and moves away abruptly.

“Getting frustrated?” you whisper.

“No,” he lies.

The hot water continues to ebb down your body as Rafe squeezes your ass.

“You can get my legs now,” you mumble. He’s half-relieved, half-frustrated to have to move his hands.

Rafe rubs in circles over your thighs, his breath heavy.

“Get on your knees so you can reach everything,” you say as you wash out the shampoo from your hair. You’re testing him, ordering him around like he usually does to you, seeing if he’ll crack.

When he kneels down, you hike your leg up onto the tub, your middle inches away from his face.

“Fuck,” he breathes, wishing he could just taste you. His hands are sliding down your calves as he gawks at the beauty between your legs, knowing you’re purposely tempting him.

His eyes trail up to your face. He looks ravenous for you.

Falling for you. He said he was falling for you.

“What?” you say with a smile. Rafe only shakes his head, continuing to run his hands over your legs.

“I said kissing is allowed,” you say, revelling in this feeling of control over him.

He doesn’t waste a second. His lips are against your pussy immediately, kissing you over and over. If you tried to keep count of how many kisses he was planting on you, you’d fail in seconds.

Arousal twists deep inside you, wanting him so badly, but loving the game you’re playing.

His lips wrap around your clit and he starts to suck, prompting you push your fingers through his hair, damp from the shower, and tug to pull him off of you.

“Kisses only,” you say. “Unless you didn’t mean what you said?”

“I did,” he huffs. He roughly shoves your wrist away to get close to you again, lips puckered. You feel his fingers ghost over your inner thighs, then pull apart your lips.

“Can I spread you open, baby?” he asks.

“No,” you respond.

“Please,” he begs.

“Kisses. Only.”

He groans. You laugh.

“You got me so turned on,” you moan. “I need to just…”

You slip your fingers between his mouth and your clit, denying him any more access.

Rafe thinks this could be thing to that finally makes him lose his fucking mind. But he stays still, knees aching from the hard tub, as you play with yourself right in front of him.

“That feels so nice,” you whisper, your knees weak. You put your other hand against the shower wall, looking down at him.

“Hold me up,” you order. He grips your hips and watches you moan and writhe over him, dipping your head back.

You dip a finger inside of you, tightening and sighing.

“Fuck.” He literally whimpers the word.

“God, there’s so many things I can think about while I touch myself,” you moan. “Like when we fucked in your car? Or when I squirted on you?”

“Which time?” he mutters, trying to have any sort of power right now by reminding you of what he can do to you.

“Aw,” you coo. “Is this like when I’m on camera? You can watch but you can’t touch me?”

“Shit,” Rafe breathes. You moan, the water dripping off of you.

He has to look away at this point. His cock is so hard that it hurts. His eyes go low, seeing a bead of precum on his swollen tip. He tries to comfort himself by thinking about how he can jerk off later.

“Get up,” you say. He brings himself up on his feet, towering over you again.

You turn your back to him again and start to rub your scalp to make sure you washed all the shampoo out.

“You’re probably cold on that side, hmm?” you ask.

Rafe’s temperature is the least of his concerns.

“I’ll keep you warm,” you tell him, looking over your shoulder. You run your hands down your body and pause over your ass, spreading yourself open.

“Put your cock right here,” you tell him.

“I- I can’t,” he moans.

“You can,” you encourage.

He kneels to place himself right where you want him. You let go, your asscheeks hugging him, feeling his length pressed up against you.

“Fuck,” he whispers, twitching against you. “This is… fuck…”

“If you didn’t mean that you can be with me without the sex, just say so.”

“I meant it,” he says. “But this is torture. I need to go. I’ll wait for you in your room, okay?”

“You can’t keep it together for me?” you tease. “I thought you liked me.”

“I fucking love you,” Rafe groans, making your heart flutter.

You’re done playing this game. You need him now.

You turn to face him, pulling him down with your hands cupping his neck to kiss him. He’s biting your bottom lip, kissing you hard.

“We don’t have to do this,” he whispers breathlessly.

“I want to,” you say against his lips, wrapping your hand around his cock. “What do you want?” He bucks up against you, groaning.

“I wanna fuck you,” he pleads.

“Then fuck me.”

Rafe’s rough and fast as he hitches your leg up, pushing you to lean against the shower wall. He lines himself up at your cunt, stretching you so much nicer than your fingers ever could.

He keeps his eyes on you when he thrusts into you, his expression both needy and satisfied.

“Thank you,” he whispers. The feeling of him thanking you for letting him be inside you hits you like a drug.

Rafe is in heaven. You squeeze him so fucking good as he rocks in and out of you. He needs to make you cum before he does. You deserve it. You deserve all the pleasure in the world.

When he starts to rub his thumb over your clit, you’re trembling with bliss. Everything in this moment feels so damn good.

“You’re my girl,” he mumbles, his usual possessive side back now. “Say it.”

“I’m your girl,” you respond. “Fuck… I love you.”

Rafe is sure he has never felt happier in his life. His thrusts get harder and faster, and with the pressure on your clit and the hot water coating your body, you whine through your orgasm.

To him, it’s a gift watching you reach your peak. You clench around him in rhythmic flutters and he can’t hold back anymore, his cum gushing out of him so fucking hard that he sees stars.

This is the best sex he’s ever had. Because now he knows it’s more than just something physical for both of you.

He kisses you hard as his body trembles, pumping into you. His forehead is against yours as you pant together and even though he’s exhausted, he stays inside you as long as he can manage.

When he pulls out, he brings his hands to your cheeks and kisses you again.

“You meant that?” he asks. He needs to know you that really do love him. That it wasn’t a heat of the moment thing. You look up at him, his lips parted, the water dripping down his face.

“Yes,” you say. His dimples are deep in his cheeks as he smiles at you.

As Rafe helps you clean up, he’s pissed at himself that he never did this before. He hates that you had to always do this alone. He won’t ever let that happen again.

Once you’re both lying in your bed, your bedroom dark save for a streetlamp casting a dull light through the window, Rafe holds you tight.

Your cheek is against his shoulder as he surrounds you in his arms. You both remained naked and the feeling of your bare bodies pressed together like this is perfection.

You softly trace your finger over the bruise covering his eye. The one his friend left on him because of something he said about you.

“What’d he say?” you ask.

“I’m not repeating it,” Rafe replies.

“Please?” you ask. “I wanna know what made you go crazy.”

“He said I seem happier lately,” Rafe says. “And before I told him it was because I wanna… be with you for real, he said… he wants to see if he could get…”

“God,” you mutter, rolling your eyes. He doesn’t have to say any more. His buddy wanted a turn with you.

“But hey, I’m not gonna let anyone say anything like that about you, okay?” he promises. “I’ll beat the shit out of anyone who tries to.”

You picture being out in public with Rafe, his arm around you. And you can’t help but ask. You need to know.

“So… are you gonna… want me around your friends and stuff?” you ask.

“Of course,” he tells you, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re my girl, right?”

It’s jarring. You’re not a lower-class maid to him. Not his personal whore. Not his slutty sugar baby. You’re a woman he loves.

Legs tangled, you fall asleep together, and you adore that the worry of falling for him is now gone. Because you’re in love, and so is he, and now you can enjoy him without telling yourself you can’t.

When you wake up the next morning, you shuffle in your position to find him, but you’re alone.

Your heart drops. Could he have been faking…?

You can’t jump to that conclusion. You’re about to check your phone when you hear crinkling coming from the kitchen.

You put on underwear and the shirt you stole from him a while ago before padding into the kitchen. He’s standing over your table, removing containers from bags.

You realize it’s from your favorite nearby bistro. He ordered food for you.

“Breakfast?” you ask. Rafe looks up at you and he doesn’t understand how every time he sees you, you strike him with how adorable you are.

“You hungry?” he says.

You settle across from him at the table. You realize he must have referenced the screenshot you sent him after the first night that he stayed over, when he sent you money to order breakfast and you sent him proof of what you bought.

As you dig into your food, you gaze at him. Blue eyes meet yours. He smirks. It doesn’t feel real. He used to look so out of place in your apartment, but this feels so natural.

“We gonna talk about how much of a cuddler you are?” you tease.

“Shut up,” he laughs. “Eat your food.”

You laugh and continue to chew.

“What do you have to do today?” he asks.

“I should study,” you say. “I was going to last night after work, but you know…”

Rafe looks down and his Adam’s apple bobs with his hard swallow.

“Are you gonna keep working?” he asks. “I don’t want you to. I wanna take care of you.”

As much as he loves seeing you around his house twice a week, he’s been getting more and more uncomfortable with the idea of you having to work so hard, having to clean up after him.

“Yeah,” you finally say. “I think I need to have the independence. To know I’m working for my own money. Does that make sense?”

“With your attitude? Yeah,” he says. You laugh.

You hope the gossip between your coworkers doesn’t get any farther up the chain. For now, you want to keep your job and the steadiness it promises.

“You can’t pull me away from my work to hook up whenever you want, though, okay?” you say.

“Even when I find you in my bed?” he asks.

“That was one time,” you scoff.

Rafe leans over to place his phone in front of you. He has your contact info up. The photo isn’t what it was before, though. It’s a photo of you sleeping, cheek pressed on his chest.

He must have taken it this morning. He wants to prove you’re not just a body to him.

Your eyes study his screen and you smile, oblivious to the fact that he’s staring at you.

But then again, you never really noticed how much he looked at you whenever you came to work at the house.

He can still remember the rush he felt when he randomly found you on that damn website. You were a fucking fantasy to him, a dream that he never thought he’d get to live out.

But here you are and by some crazy stroke of luck, you found something in him worth loving.

Rafe always enjoyed having some sort of ownership over you, claiming you as his. Because deep down, he always kind of knew he belonged to you. Whether you want him or not, he’s yours.

(the end) (continuation blurbs)

author’s note: THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR ALL THE LOVE AND SUPPORT FOR THIS SERIES 💘 it’s so bittersweet ending it. i had so much fun writing this and it’s because of your comments and messages 😭 i’ll be writing more fics! if you want updates, please follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications since i’ll be reblogging my work there. love you all!!!

[oldementurnmeon]

Cam Girl Next Door

A/N: Hi everyone! thank you for the positive feedback! I am very grateful that you guys liked my first writing piece! This will be my first smut writing so please leave notes so i can improve myself! Might be so errors!!

warnings- Masturbation, dirty talk, degradation, praise, pet names, usage of ‘daddy’

WC: (4.6k)

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Right after Y/n sent that message, she got a wave a excitement and nervousness. I mean she’s never done one on one calls with anyone for her work. She thought to herself, “What would I even wear tonight..? I’ll have to go shopping for new lingerie sets.” As her class went on she was preoccupied with the fact she was going to be calling a complete stranger. What if he was those perverted trolls? Those jerks who like to troll sex workers and waste their time. Of course Y/n has had a number of her own internet trolls, but she tried to ignore them. Before she closed her laptop after class ended, she got a 200 dollar transfer to her bank account. The money was from Crossbowdaddy and he left a note, “For two hours sweetheart, I’ll see you later tonight.” She smiled before closing her laptop.

After her class, she was going to head straight to the mall to get some new lingerie just for tonight. “Maybe I should get a sexy costume..” She spoke aloud to herself. Something that caught her eye while driving. A fancy sex shop, “Cupid’s Arrow”. She decided to pull over at the store and take a look. She was welcomed by many displays of lingerie and sexy costumes. She saw stripper heels, pasties, and her favorite toys. She began to browse the aisles, trying to find the perfect set for tonight. She ended up picking out a hot pink babydoll dress, a black lacy two piece, and a light pink slip dress. She went to the fitting room to try on all three and send each picture to Crossbowdaddy. She ended up getting the babydoll dress but in baby pink.

The moment she got home she began to get ready for her.. ‘date’ if that what she should call it. By the time she finished getting ready it was already 11, she was extremely nervous. What if he wasn’t going to join the call? She drowned those that negative thought away with an aphrodisiac chocolate to help her get more aroused. She opened up her computer and awaited for the upcoming call request. Her heart practically sank to her ass when she saw the Skype request. She made sure her face was out of frame but her body was front and center before answering the call.

“Hi, you must be Crossbowdaddy” She tried to hide the shakiness in her voice, by making herself sound more seductive. The man on her computer screen also hid his face and was only showing off his tattoos. He finally spoke up with a deep and hoarse voice, “Hey baby, I’ve been so excited about this call.” She smiled, god his voice was so attractive she thought. “I bought this dress just for our call.” She got up to show off her body in the little dress. Teasing him with her slow and desirable movements. He let out a strained groan. “Fuck babygirl.. You’re killin’ me.” She got on her chair slowly pulling up the short dress to reveal a matching pink thong. She couldn’t help but feel the heat from between her legs. Sitting back in her seat spreading her legs to reveal the damp patch on her clothed pussy. “Do you like what you see daddy? Does my pussy make your cock hard?” Daryl began to slowly fist his hard cock in his hand making sure it was in frame for me. “Look how hard you made me baby. Just from your little strip-tease. Such a naughty little slut.” She pulled the thin pair of underwear to the side to expose her bare pussy. She slowly pushed her slender into her sopping pussy, mewing at her arousal. Daryl let out a grunt. “Jesus you’re so fucking beautiful.. Such a filthy girl. Fuck- keep goin’.” She slowly fucked herself, pushing her fingers in and out of her. She was practically oozing from her pussy. She cried out, “It feels so good daddy- Shit.. I can barely handle it.” She sped up her movement causing her to buck her hips back into her own fingers. Daryl scoffs at her. “Look how pathetic you are slut. Can’t even handle your own pussy. You probably couldn’t even handle this cock.” He growled as thrusts up into his fist. She quickly began to tremble as her toyed with her clit. Her pathetic whines and cries spilled out of her mouth as she finger fucked herself. “Fuck I’m going to cum- Can I please cum daddy? Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!” She wailed trying her best not to come to her high so fast. Daryl groaned slowing down his jerking motion as he was too coming close to the end. “Go ahead sweetheart make a goddamn mess all over.” Her entire body shook as she came all over her fingers. Daryl gave a strained moan and his warm cum spurted from his pink tip. Her body was calming down from her high. “You are probably the first man to make myself cum so- quick.” Daryl chuckled, “Maybe we can do this again sweetheart.” Y/n spoke up again, “I would actually love to do this again with you. Goodnight daddy.”

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I’m sorry this one took so long. But I hope everyone liked it! Please leave feedback and thank you for all the positive comments!

[readychilledwine]

Kissed by Fire pt 1

Summary - Amelia Archeron, the oldest of the made sisters, sacrificed more than her sisters would ever understand, and more than she would ever allow them to know. Now, they want her to sacrifice her one chance at happiness, too.

Warnings - rhysand is kind of a dick, signs of depression and PTSD, trauma, implied EDs, kind of poisoning

An - and we begin 💜

Part 2

Rhysand tapped his fingers on the desk next to Amelia, his eyes narrowed as the oldest sister stared out the window.

She had been the last to wake up. She was withdrawn from them, constantly sat in the cushioned window ledge and wiping tears from her face.

He had expected more from Amelia. She was supposed to be a rock, a strong influence, yet here she was, mind lost in her grief, in her confusion, her longing for their father. “You need to get up,” he commanded. “You need to stand on your feet and be strong for your sisters. They need you.”

Amelia sighed deeply, that familiar weight of being the oldest pressing down on her shoulders once again.

It felt like carrying the weight of the world. It felt like being forced to sacrifice her own health and happiness for her sisters again.

It reminded her of nights spent in a brothel laid beneath some man she had no interest in for a small amount of coin. It reminded her of hiding the coins with Feyre's earnings so no one would ask questions or ask if she was okay.

“If my adult sisters are making the choice to hide in a room and refuse to eat, how exactly would me going and demanding that of them make a difference?”

Rhysand rolled his eyes, scoffing at the question. “You never cared for them while you all were starving in that cabin,” Amelia flinched at the accusation. “The least you could do is pretend to care now.” She looked away from him as the first night spent in the whorehouse, handing her virginity away to a complete stranger twice her age came forward.

She didn't see Rhysand's face fall, his eyes becoming sympathy as you stood. “Right. I forgot about Feyre's pretty story of how she kept our family afloat.” The true sentence should have been, “I forgot she didn't know,” yet Amelia stuck to her self defense. “I will try. Do not expect me to join you, though.”

Nesta, Elain, and Amelia ate in silence in Amelia's room. If you could call what the three of them did eating.

Nesta pushed the food around. Elain stared out the window. Amelia sat there, shivering despite being the closest to the fire and in heavy wool socks and a sweater provided by the House.

She could feel a chill deep inside of her. Like the Cauldron had left a reminder deep inside of her of what happened. “Have you two been cold since-” she couldnt even finish the sentence, but she didn't need to.

Elain shook her head softly. “No, just. Lost.”

Nesta also shook her head before smiling sadly. “Have you tried to bathe yet?” Amelia paled at the idea. She had several times. Hoping the hot water would melt the ice settling in her veins and bones. “I had the same reaction,” Nesta sad softly.

Elain also nodded, tears streaming down her face, “It's like bathing takes me right back there. I cam feel it burning my skin all over again from how cold it was, I feel myself struggling to breathe, i-” Amelia silenced her younger sister with a hand on hers.

“Don't, little tulip. Don't talk about it unless you're ready to.” Elain leaned into her, closing her eyes as Amelia ran her fingers through her soft hair. “I'm sorry I can't fix this.”

Nesta smiled for the first time in a week. “You aren't a miracle worker, Lia. We don't expect you to fix it.”

Amelia's dreams that night had her transporting to a cabin. It was warm with a soft fire crackling in the background as she looked around. She could hear the voices of two males in another room. One was deep and smooth, although somewhat sarcastic as he spoke to a deep familiar voice. Shadows trailed through Amelia's fingers and the voices stopped. A door opening and footsteps coming towards her.

Amelia shot awake, her eyes adjusting to the darkness to a figure sitting on her bed. Rhysand had his hands holding his nose, his eyes glazed over slightly. “Do you know where you just were?” She shook her head, take a few deep breaths and then the tea he offered her. “I need you to drink that. You followed Azriel on a mission. In your sleep.”

He looked up sighing heavily. “You didn't fully transport your body there. Just your soul and mind. I need you to drink that so you don't do it again.”

Amelia sniffed it, eyes watering at how bitter it smelled. “What is it?”

Rhys looked at her, eyes cold as he distanced himself from what he was asking her to do. “It's faebane. It'll put whatever the fuck the Cauldron did to you to sleep.”

Rhys laid Amelia down, having watched her finish the cup and fall into a drug induced sleep. He sensed Azriel landing at the house and waited.

The Spymaster pushed Amelia's balcony doors open, looking between her and Rhysand. “How? That cabin is heavily warded to protect-”

Rhys held a hand up. “Amren is looking into it. Until we have an answer, we keep her on a low dose faebane to keep her powers locked down and quiet.”

Azriel looked at him, slightly shocked. “So poison her instead of helping her control it? Rhys, we know better than this. Her powers will eat her alive.”

“We will figure it out before than, Azriel.” Rhys looked at Amelia, watching as she shivered. “Did he have any ideas for helping her stay warm?”

Azriel nodded, pulling out a heavy sweater in a cream and another in burgundy, and then a soft fluffy pumpkin colored blanket. They reeked of cinnamon and apples, the fabric was unnaturally warm after having been enchanted. “He says we owe him.”

Rhys rolled his eyes. “Of course we do. The snake doesn't do a single thing unless it benefits him.” he took the blanket, thanking Azriel softly before tucking Amelia in and listening as she released a soft content sigh. She snuggled deeply into her new blanket, shivering stopping almost immediately. “Did he say what he wants?” Rhys moved her hair out of her face. Guilt eating him alive as he saw how peaceful she looked in this forced state.

“He'll call us when he's ready.”

Taglist : @justdreamstars @coralseacourt @kemillyfreitas @impossibelle

[susiekern]

2. the one with the stalker

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol

word count: 1,457

masterlist

previous | next

Yuji was walking on thin ice. Why? He forgot to mention it was a four-person outing, not just three. Yes, when you and Nobara walked into one of your go-to bars, Yuji was already there with none other than Megumi. Surprisingly, aside from one or two snarky comments, the first hour went well. You all had a drink or two by this point, and you could feel yourself getting relaxed, even with the raven-haired man sitting on the opposite side of the booth. Until you see a familiar face in the crowd, and you duck to hide yourself behind Yuji.

“Cover me, please.” Seeing confused looks, you sigh and sneakily point towards the bar. “Noritoshi is here.” Itadori and Kugisaki nod in understanding, while Megumi looks only more confused.

“He follows y/n on every social media platform she has and asked her out like a year ago. He was always active on her streams and seemed cute, so they went for a coffee. Big mistake. He turned into an actual stalker. Once he showed up at our door, God knows how he found out where we live, with like a hundred roses, and refused to leave until y/n goes on another date with him. Yuji had to scare him off.” Nobara explains as you hide behind Yuji, who now turns sideways to make a human wall out of himself.

“He said I owe him one more for all the donations he made. Do I look like a fucking cam girl or something? 100 for a coffee date, 1000 for a blowjob?” You sigh and lean your head on the table.

“I can see how he got it wrong, honestly.” Megumi says with a smirk, referring to your outfit for the night. With the mission laundry on the go, something that you and Nobara sucked at, you weren’t left with many options. Hence why you’re now sitting in a bodycon black dress that didn’t leave much to the imagination. Something that Megumi pointed out as soon as he saw you, obviously. You’d still choose that over a hair-dye-stained t-shirt that Nobara had on.

You decide to leave his words without comment this one time, peering above Yuji’s arm. Noritoshi’s gone, and you relax a little, grabbing your empty glass that definitely needs a refill. Quickly telling the rest you’re going for another one, you get up and make your way through the people. One nod at the bartender is enough of a sign, and you watch how this pretty blonde girl prepares your negroni, hoping it’ll be more spicy than her look. Her pace is impressive, but that’s what you’d expect on a busy night. It’s not fast enough, though, you think to yourself when someone takes a seat next to you and says your name.

“Y/n! I thought I saw you earlier.” Noritoshi Kamo smiles at you innocently, putting his hand on the bar, just a few centimeters too close to yours.

“What do you want, Kamo?” You decide to cut the bullshit. This wasn’t the first time you’d seen him here, accidentally bumping into you or your friends and taking every occasion to talk to you. Even if every time he gets rejected.

“To talk. You’ve blocked me everywhere, y/n. How are we supposed to address the situation if I can’t text you?” There’s a genuine consternation both in the voice and on the face of the man next to you. You can’t help but laugh. His delusion could make the teenage girls jealous, really.

“When someone blocks you, it’s usually because they don’t want to talk to you.”

“But you’re not like that. I know what you’re trying to do, y/n.” He furrows his brows. A sigh of relief escapes your mouth when the bartender finally sets a drink in front of you.

“The problem is that you don’t know. Or you refuse to. Either way, I’m not interested.” You pay for the drink and get up from the stool. “It was extremely unpleasant, let’s not do it again.”

Noritoshi stops you, grabbing your arm with a lot more strength than ever.

“I’m not done talking to you.” He says, his voice filled with something you haven’t heard before from him. Anger? Frustration? Whatever it was, it made you feel uneasy, probably more than his grip on your elbow.

“But she’s done with you. Seriously dude, can’t you take a hint?” The third voice joins this drama episode, and you feel relief flooding your body, recognizing it’s Megumi. Noritoshi definitely didn’t expect anyone to interrupt, and thanks to that, he drops his hand from you in shock. You can feel Megumi’s body behind your back as he stands close and leans forward to grab your negroni, the other hand landing gently on your shoulder. “And I’m not even sorry for stopping this… lovely chat, but we need her back and away from you.”

With one last look at your stalker’s face, you let Fushiguro lead you back to the booth your group was occupying. Far gentler than you’d expect, he sits you down at your spot, sets the drink on the table, and takes his spot opposite from you, just like before. Only then do you notice the absence of the other two.

“Where are Yuji and Nobara?” You ask quietly and take a sip, letting the alcohol slowly soothe your nerves.

“Yuji went to the bathroom, and I think Kugisaki is dancing somewhere.”

“Thanks. You know, for saving me there.” Your words are so quiet that you start to wonder if he can even hear you, but when he leans back on the leather couch and smirks, you know he did.

“You might be annoying, but I hate when people don’t understand what no means.” Megumi shrugs and moves his gaze towards the dance floor. You sit in silence for a minute before he decides to add “You owe me one.”

“Oh, sure. I’ll be your prince in shining armor when your stalker throws herself on you.” You laugh, and for a moment he actually smiles too. Unfortunately, before you can tease him about it, Yuji comes back and unknowingly starts telling you everything that happened to him in the past minutes, making you forget both about Noritoshi and Megumi’s smile, at least for a moment.

It was Tuesday afternoon, your workday. Sort of.

Video games were always something you enjoyed, and back in 2020, when the pandemic locked everyone at home, you started streaming for fun. You didn’t expect it to become anything more than a fun activity for free evenings, and even now, four years later, sometimes you couldn’t believe it was your full-time job. In the first few months, you’ve managed to build an incredible community that grew bigger each day, and then you’ve made your first money, and it kept going.

That’s why now, you’re sitting in your comfortable chair, headphones discarded on the desk, after almost four hours of playing. It was your tradition to spend at least the last half an hour just interacting with chat, answering questions, and talking about everything.

“Yeah, Yuji will join me on Sunday for the new Call of Duty. We’ll be testing the multiplayer since critics had a lot to say about it.” You answer one of the followers and smile seeing the reactions.

Yuji joined you once about a year ago when you did “Drunk Among Us” and needed a partner, and your followers absolutely loved him. Now he was growing his own channel, but you still often did streams together. Every time you announced a stream with him, your chat was ecstatic and filled with questions about you two. Yeah, people ship you; there are even edits somewhere on the internet, no matter how many times you both said you were just friends.

Somewhere in the middle of telling how much you hated the movie you’ve seen recently with Nobara, your background music starts to mix with another sound. Guitar, coming from behind your wall. You furrow your brows and stop the music to make sure you’re not going crazy. But no, it’s still there, and you even recognize the song.

“Sorry for that, guys. My new neighbor can get loud and annoying, and his room is literally behind my wall.”

plushie87: OMG, is that Starlight by The Fallen???

yusshi: TASTE

zeyde_: as a guitar player, respectfully, SHEESH

viviaaan: I just know he/she is hot, only hot people can play this solo so well

You roll your eyes at the comments, but you have to agree with some of them. It’s one of your favorite songs, by your favorite band, and you know how tricky that guitar solo is. And by the sound of it, Megumi played it perfectly. Asshole.