#taint cam

[wrestlingarsenal]

So I have 3 theories on why the ringside camera keeps zooming in on Brad Rheingan's trunks and boots in this video recently posted to YouTube.

(1). Camera guy enjoys seeing flashy, well-made gear (as do I -- just ask any of my wrestling buddies about my obsession over their gear collections.)

Camera guy can see that Brad's patriotic trunks are beautifully crafted, gripping his fat ass and prominent bulge just right. And the stars running around his waist, expensive wingtip boots, and tall socks reflect great taste and attention to detail. So his splendid look is checking all my boxes and, presumably, the camera guy has a similar list of gear-kink checkboxes.

(2). They're trying to make this match sexier for the viewers. Brad Rheingans was a talented amateur athlete who was expecting to win gold in the 1980 Olympic games (if USA hadn't boycotted), but he wasn't the most gifted as a pro wrestler. He lacked the showmanship and sex appeal to boner up the audience. So maybe they're trying to add some homo-erotic spice to his game, to prevent their ratings from tanking whenever Brad gets in the ring, to excite the viewers by filling our TV screens with taint views, big ball bulges, and glorious spandexed ass.

(3). They are aiming to humiliate Brad Rheingans for some reason. He was a top amateur wrestler in the world, yet in the pro ring, he is degraded as the most jobbery jobber in Jobbertown. Frequent loser Tiger Chung Lee even defeated our would-be Olympian (on 3 separate occasions!) We see Tiger Chung Lee not only pin Rheingans, but he clearly gropes the loser's ballbag in the process, as if to say, "I own you, bitch."

The production crew seems to join in the degradation with their salacious camera angles, intent on showing his ass in public. If Brad happens to spread his legs for a second, the ringside camera is Johnny-on-the-spot with a taint shot, broadcasting his sexually submissive position, inviting the viewers to objectify his spandexed cakes, to regard him as a pathetic Bottom.

I don't know why they wanted to degrade and humble this would-be Olympian. Maybe he was a cocky elitist who smirked about "fake" wrestling so they decided to stretch him. Or maybe the promoters wanted to make pro wrestling seem more difficult and dangerous than amateur grappling by showing mid-card workers easily pwning one of the most respected Olympic wrestlers in the world?

[gongyussy]

mitch marner re seeing sid wearing his clothes: "i'd like to see that. that'd be juicy"… fellas is it gay to call the man you grew up idolising “juicy”

+ someone please give sid the dress code... he's confused every single asg

[moonlinos]

Don’t let me love you (Siren part II)

♡ Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin × fem!reader

♡ Genre: Camboy!Hyunjin, friends with benefits to lovers

♡ CW: Explicit sexual content (minors dni!), sex work, mentions of smoking, drinking, oral sex (female receiving), orgasm delay/denial, sex toys, marking, nipple play, unprotected sex, creampie, choking (only a little tho)

♡ Word count: 15.7k

♡ Synopsis: Hyunjin has been a camboy since he turned eighteen and a host since the age of twenty. His life and line of work had him building up a fortress of walls to keep himself safe, but he’s powerless as he watches you unknowingly break them down. Although he knows you deserve better than him, he battles with a selfish desire that wants nothing more than to allow himself to love you.

♡ A/N: Part two of what was supposed to be a one-shot, but people made my brain think things and I wrote 15.7K WORDS. I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that so many people actually wanted a part two of something I wrote, so I wanna say thank you 🩷

← part I

Your situation with Hyunjin has been going on for almost eight months now.

Some things have changed; he’s undoubtedly more clingy with you, and you started hanging out with no intentions of having sex. What remains unchanged, however, is the fact that he’s still the same old egotistical idiot.

The thing is, you somehow grew to like that about him. It’s amusing to you just how much he loves himself, gloating about his conquests at the club or bragging about maintaining his number-one spot on the camming website. Although this only makes you even more certain you would never entertain the idea of being with someone like him, having the man who makes you come so hard also make you laugh just as much is a nice bonus.

Hyunjin began coming over to your apartment around two months ago, gradually wearing down your resistance with a lot of pestering until you finally let him in. Your home was almost sacred to you. Hooking up in his apartment was one thing, doing that in the familiarity of your home made it feel almost too intimate. You’ve fucked on the couch, on the kitchen counter, in the shower, but you never allow him into your bedroom. You’re not entirely sure why, but it would feel as if you were tainting your favorite place if he were to fuck you in your bed.

You’re getting ready for a date in your bathroom with Hyunjin sitting on the floor behind you, claiming the view of your ass from that angle was optimal. He lets out a loud chuckle as he watches you dab yet another layer of concealer on the hickey he left on your collarbone earlier tonight.

“Fuck off,” you snap at him. “You think this is funny?”

“Well, yeah, ‘cause it is,” he simply says, and you see him shrugging in the mirror, a grin tugging at one corner of his lip.

Hyunjin has the maddening habit of marking you. Although you told him numerous times how much you hate it, he conveniently ignores that when you have sex, and you’re always too clouded by lust to say anything about it.

“What are you doing on your livestream tonight?” You ask after finally making the small, red blotch on your skin imperceptible.

Watching Hyunjin cam has become your go-to de-stressing method after work. Sitting in a corner far away from the camera, you watch him do his job with ease, like it’s second nature to him. It’s almost intoxicating how he seems to always know what to say to get his viewers going, knowing exactly when to be mean and when to play the role of a caring boyfriend. It makes you clench around nothing, hungrily watching as he makes himself come all over his stomach so deliciously it has you eager to be fucked as soon as he’s done.

He hums. “Well, they really seemed to like the toys I tried last weekend, so I guess that’s what I’m doing for the next few weeks.”

“Ooh, so you’re sticking to the toys now,” you tease him with a grin.

Last Saturday, you watched as Hyunjin opened fan gifts he had received in his PO box during his livestream. Some were extremely questionable (if you had a nickel for every time he pulled out used panties from a box, you’d have two nickels. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice), while some were exactly what you would expect to be sent to a camboy. A variety of BDSM gear, kinky costumes fans wanted him to wear, and of course, a lot of sex toys.

Hyunjin shrugs again, leaning on his left hand and staring up at you through the mirror. “I kinda have to do whatever my viewers want to keep my number one ranking.”

“And are you going to the club tonight?”

“Nah,” he yawns and rests his head against the wall. “Took the day off. My spot there is secured,” his lips upturn into a grin. “No other guy at that club can compete with me.”

That’s another thing you learned about Hyunjin these past months; his club and website rankings are extremely important to him. You also learned he has an Only Fans account on the side where he shares videos and pictures of himself, and he pesters you about making any type of content with him every couple of weeks. You were tempted after seeing the enticing amount of money that was in it for you, but your decision was unswayed.

Your confidence wasn’t like his. You’re sure having your performance and appearance scrutinized by strangers would make you go insane.

Nonetheless, you struggle to conceal your jealousy toward Hyunjin’s jobs, as they seem so damn perfect in your eyes. How great would it be if you could essentially work only when you felt like it? Not to mention the fact that both his jobs are basically having orgasms and looking pretty, which certainly seems heavenly when compared to your headache-inducing corporate job.

He even delayed the starting time of his livestream tonight for the sole purpose of tormenting you while you get ready.

Jihoon is your first proper date in almost a year, as you only allowed yourself the luxury of dating after getting the promotion you were working for. He’s in your company’s finance department, and you two have been casually flirting for three months. You tried your best to ignore him for a couple of weeks, but not only was he ridiculously good-looking, he was also the breathing definition of boyfriend material. He was kind, holding doors open and helping other workers carry heavy boxes with a smile on his face. He was caring, always arriving at the office with coffee for his coworkers, having memorized everyone’s order.

Not to mention the whispered rumors that echoed through the hallways of the ninth floor. Your friend, who had recently moved into the finance department, shared them with you after a drunken night out. Jihoon was apparently amazing in bed, all while being a perfect gentleman. The perfect blend of rough and sweet, and never one to kiss and tell — all these rumors apparently coming from women in his department who had dated him and couldn’t keep themselves from gushing about their unforgettable experience with him.

But it would be a lie to say you were excited about this date because of him.

It was the prospect of how much this could vex Hyunjin that really got you eager.

A couple of nights ago, you joked with Hyunjin about how Jihoon was the complete antithesis of him, hence why he was the ideal candidate for a boyfriend. Hyunjin’s reaction was exactly what you anticipated, with him becoming visibly annoyed and grumbling about how Jihoon probably talks a big game but does the bare minimum in bed.

You simply laughed because the mere thought that another man could be just as good, if not better, than him in bed was what ticked Hyunjin off. Never mind that you said Jihoon was perfect because he was everything he was not.

“You know,” Hyunjin suddenly says, “We should make a bet.”

And you hesitate for a beat and a half because you know Hyunjin.

Still, you sigh and answer, “Sure. What kind of bet?”

“If this guy is really that good in bed, then I’ll pay for your next date myself,” he vows, his smirk only growing as you turn to look at him through the mirror. “If he’s average, you go on a date with me.”

You silently look at him for a few seconds before laughter bursts out of you.

“Hyunjin, do you fucking hate me?” You ask, turning your body toward him. “I get shitty sex then have to endure a date with you?”

He shrugs, rising to stand in front of you. “This just proved to me how much faith you have in your date,” he calmly says. He then leans into you, caging you against the countertop, hands beside your body. Hyunjin bends his face to yours, his breath tickling your skin as he speaks, “Just admit you know no guy will ever be a better fuck than me.”

You scoff at his arrogance, pushing him until his back hits the wall.

“Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Hyunjin follows you when you leave the bathroom to grab your purse in the living room, loudly clicking his tongue behind you.

“Why’d you dress up for him?” He huffs, and you turn to look at him with a raised brow. “This fucking short dress and shit.” He rakes his eyes over your body from head to toe, tugging at his bottom lip. “I should make you dress up for me, too. You look hot.”

By now, you’ve learned that the best course of action to follow when dealing with Hyunjin’s monumental ego is to ignore it altogether. It’s also quite entertaining to purposefully give him answers you know will vex him, so you sweetly smile at him.

“Thank you,” you beam, your fingers toying with the hem of your short dress, pulling up the fabric. “Hopefully Jihoon thinks the same.”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes, curling an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against his body. He harshly presses his lips to yours, undoubtedly smudging your lipstick. His tongue pushes past your lips, brushing against your own. It’s almost like an act of possessiveness — leaving his taste on your tongue before you go off to your date with another man.

He tightens his grip on your waist, pulling you even closer. But just as you’re getting lost in the feeling of his lips against yours, the sound of your doorbell echoes through the room, and your eyes widen. Pulling away, you promptly push Hyunjin back and wipe the corners of your mouth. You stifle a chuckle when your eyes land on his face; red lipstick smudged all over his lips.

“Stay in the bathroom until I leave,” you tell him while grabbing your purse from the couch. He rolls his eyes again, this time with a scowl contorting his features.

You smile at Jihoon when you open your door. Barely giving him the chance to say hello, you hurry him toward the elevator, reminding him of your reservation. You know Hyunjin, and you wouldn’t put it past him to show up behind you simply to stir up some drama.

But that’s the thing; you know Hyunjin, yet you still choose to stay in this strange arrangement with him. Because it’s the fact that you know him, for some reason you’re unsure of yourself, that makes you actually like him a little bit.

Hyunjin ends his livestream as usual, saying goodnight with a promise of seeing his viewers again tomorrow night. He never acknowledges tips and addresses no one by their name or username. Some cammers wear masks to conceal their identities — this cavalier persona, uncaring and nonchalant, is Hyunjin’s mask.

Letting out a heavy sigh, he goes on to do the arduous task of cleaning up the fleshlight he used tonight. It was a gift from a viewer, who begged him — with quite a lot of tips — to use it for her. What was initially meant to be a one-time thing has now become his new routine, as his viewers couldn’t get enough of it.

Hyunjin hates this part of his camming job: the incessant need to please the people who watch him, lest they abandon him and move on to a new cammer. He doesn’t mind the sex toys — although cleaning them makes him want to throw his entire collection out the window — but he’s had to do a lot of shit he really didn’t want to, all in the name of maintaining his number one spot.

He was eighteen when he first started. In desperate need of money after moving out of home for college, one of his friends suggested he sell his nudes to people around campus. When Hyunjin scowled and asked why the fuck that was his first and only suggestion, the boy laughed. He remembers his words to this day:

“Hyunjin, you know you don’t really have anything else other than your looks. Your grades are shit, and you’re lazy as fuck. This is pretty much the only way you can ever make money.”

And by that age, that was nothing new to Hyunjin, as he had heard different variations of that same speech his entire life. When he was a child, his parents urged him to become an idol or a model, going so far as to motivate him to ignore his schoolwork to attend auditions (even when he whined about how much he hated them). 

His mother always said his face had the power to make people love him while studying would only lead to success.

“It’s much better to be loved, Hyunjin,” she told him when he was ten. “Anyone can reach success if they try hard enough, but being loved is a privilege only special people can have.”

By his late teens, when his reputation began to precede him after countless hookups during high school, his friends assured him he could make a lot of money off of sex.

Either way, the consensus was always that the only thing Hyunjin had to offer were his looks and body.

At first, he hated it. He wanted nothing more than to be appreciated for anything other than what his face looked like, or how good he was in bed. He got his grades up, excelled in hobbies he actually liked, and even set goals for himself after college. But Hyunjin never heard a word of praise from his parents, and his friends were always more interested in who he was hooking up with than how he got to the top of his class. After a while, he realized he was simply fighting a losing battle.

So he accepted that truth, because it couldn’t hurt him if he were the one to incentivize it.

That was why he decided to follow his friend’s asinine suggestion.

His first endeavor was with simple videos of himself jerking off in front of his mirror, the shitty camera of his phone certainly hindering his attempt at making the whole thing pleasing to the eyes. He would promote them through text messages to acquaintances he’d met at parties at first, later creating a Twitter account dedicated solely to selling these videos. It wasn’t a lot of money, but it was certainly more than his friends made while working monotonous shifts at coffee shops.

Only four months later, he coincidentally entered the world of camming through a girl he had been hooking up with.

They were in her bedroom, just about to have sex, when she giggled against his lips and told him she could make a lot of money if he fucked her during one of her livestreams. He said he could make a lot of money if she let him record them fucking.

They ultimately reached an agreement, and Hyunjin appeared on his first-ever livestream that same night — a mask covering both their faces and the money made split evenly between them.

He recalls how his eyes were glued to her computer screen the entire time. He was used to praises and compliments, but there was something different about having a stranger openly say they’d do anything to be in that girl’s place, that they would pay to have him fuck them, or even something as simple as telling Hyunjin how good he was. It had a rush of euphoria cursing through his veins.

It was as if, for the first time in his life, he had found something he was truly good at, something that he was entirely in control of. He was a natural, and he enjoyed every moment of it, easily slipping into the persona he wears to this day.

He got drunk on that validation and was desperate to have it again.

After that night, he created his own account, with many of his hookup’s viewers following him immediately. He dropped out of college soon after he started, as the money he made from camming along with selling his content on Only Fans already exceeded the estimated salary in his field of study.

Hyunjin was good, and he loved being good. Most importantly, he loved knowing he was good.

That’s why he simply ignores the few times he’s had to do things he wasn’t all that keen on doing. Because at the end of the day, that’s the only thing he’s good at — pleasing people, no matter the cost.

After a long shower, Hyunjin walks back into his room and sinks into his bed. He’s glad he took the day off from his job at the club since a viewer tipped him $300 to edge himself for as long as he could tonight. After an hour of that, the only thing he wants is to curl up in bed and sleep for hours.

He buries himself under his blankets, but just as his eyes flutter closed, the sound of laughter echoes through his room. Your laughter.

He sits up in bed almost immediately, a grin etched onto his lips. He still remembers the day he found out his walls were paper thin; the day you touched yourself while he was streaming. He knew you were so sure you had been quiet — only letting out small whimpers and sighs — but he heard you regardless, and your pretty noises made it even easier for him to come that night. He initially assumed you were simply masturbating, but when you came knocking at his door the very next day to complain about how noisy he was, he knew you were touching yourself to the sound of his voice.

Hyunjin has fucked many women in his life, but for that silly fact alone, none piqued his interest quite like you did.

He rests his back against the headboard, ready to listen to you complain on the phone to some friend, grumbling about how fucking awful your date had been. But a masculine voice suddenly permeates through the wall, filling his room with the sound of your date’s obnoxious laughter.

“I had a really nice time tonight,” he slurs, clearly a bit tipsy.

“Me too,” you giggle, and Hyunjin’s face twists into a scowl. Since when do you giggle like that?

He hastily yanks the covers off his body, rushing to settle into his computer chair in a shameless effort to hear your conversation more clearly.

“Sorry I laughed when you spilled your drink on your dress,” the guy — whose name Hyunjin frankly didn’t care enough to memorize — apologizes before adding, “Do I make you that nervous?”

And it’s like Hyunjin can hear the smirk in the man’s voice. Why the fuck must this annoy him so much? Couldn’t you go back to his place to fuck? Maybe you’re pissed at him over the bet, and this is a desperate attempt to prove you’re right. He scoffs, running a hand through his hair before reclining on the chair.

Just means you’ll be having mediocre sex while he listens.

“Of course I was nervous,” you reply. “Look at you, this shirt’s been driving me crazy since you picked me up.”

The man snickers. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you state matter-of-factly, “Kept looking at your arms the entire night. Couldn’t think straight,” your voice drops to a whisper, and Hyunjin could recognize the alluring lilt that envelops your voice from a mile away.

You use it with him almost every night.

Your date hums. “Oh, you like my arms?”

And Hyunjin can just picture the man flexing his muscles. What a fucking idiot.

His room is filled with the creaking sound of your bed, and he physically cringes. He can’t believe you’re really gonna make him listen to you fuck another guy. He especially can’t believe you so easily let this fucker into your bedroom. Hyunjin has known you for eight months, and you still adamantly insist that your bedroom is off-limits.

Maybe this is his long-overdue punishment for making you lose sleep for a month.

Your room suddenly falls into an odd stillness. All Hyunjin can do is sit in the dark, consumed by the incessant ticking of his clock, unable to tear his gaze away from the wall in front of him. His mind becomes his own worst enemy, flooding his imagination with vivid images of you laid out underneath this man, his arms you seemingly love so much caging you between the mattress and his body while his lips explore every inch of your skin. Or maybe you’re on top, rolling your hips in that slow, tantalizing rhythm that drives Hyunjin mad while looking at him with lust-clouded eyes.

The sound of you softly whimpering shakes him out of his thoughts, and Hyunjin subconsciously clenches his fists. Despite hearing the guy talk to you again, all he makes out is a jumble of garbled, muffled sounds.

He isn’t sure how long he stays there, eyes boring holes into the wall until his vision goes blurry and gnawing on his lips until he tears at the delicate skin. His ears sting with the sound of your bed frame hitting your shared wall, and your sighs and moans he loves so much only seem to mock him.

When the sardonic symphony eventually fades into silence, Hyunjin remains where he is. He feels powerless; he can’t stop how his heart weighs heavy in his chest or do anything but feel the scorching flame of anger searing his veins.

He’s memorized your date’s name by now — Jihoon, as your voice repeatedly called out.

For the first time in so long, Hyunjin was no longer in control.

Hyunjin struggles to conceal his annoyance when you show up at his door the next day as if nothing had happened. The hickey he gave you no longer being concealed by makeup and your ever-present grin only added to his aggravation, as if you were relishing in his agony. He wants nothing more than to fuck that smug grin off your pretty lips, but he can’t bring himself to touch you. Not when his ego is bruised by how easily another man could please you.

After all, that was all Hyunjin had to offer. Why were you even here in the first place? If you had already found someone else to fuck you, he had nothing more to give you.

Sitting on his couch, Hyunjin’s frustration gets the best of him, and he’s the first to break the silence.

“I don’t even gotta ask if you had a good time last night,” he sneers, and you stifle a chuckle, trying but ultimately failing to keep a straight face.

“Yeah, the restaurant was nice.”

Hyunjin can’t contain the scoff that escapes his lips, his mouth curling in disdain. “You know damn well I’m not talking about the restaurant.”

You cock your head to the side, brows knitting together as you put on your best act of naivety.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean?” You ask, voice dripping in sarcasm.

Hyunjin is pushing your body onto the couch before he realizes what he’s doing, the rage he felt last night no longer laying dormant in his bloodstream. He cages you against the cushions, his hands resting beside your body. You instinctively spread your thighs to accommodate him.

“You think you’re so fucking funny, don’t you?” He asks, bending his face to yours. You shrug with a contented sigh, lifting your arms to wrap around his back.

Hyunjin scoffs, and you let out a yelp as he abruptly hoists your legs over his shoulders, fingertips digging into the flesh of your thighs. He leans down to kiss you, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth but pulls away before you can register to kiss him back, leaving you to chase after his touch.

“Is this how he fucked you?” He asks with a hum, his lips hovering mere inches above yours. His hold on your thighs becomes bruisingly tight as he waits for your answer. “Hm? Did he fuck you good?”

“We were both tipsy,” you murmur, breath hitching as he pushes his hardening member against your clothed core. “It was okay.”

A grin tugs at the corner of his lips, and Hyunjin mockingly pouts. “So he wasn’t the sex god you were promised, baby?”

You roll your eyes. “I just said it was okay.”

Hyunjin shakes his head, his gaze transfixed by the way your eyes look up at him while you subtly roll your hips up into him. He’s not stupid, he knows the reason why you have such an infuriating effect on him. He’s never going to be good enough for you outside of being a good fuck, yet he feels a blooming yearning inside of his chest that makes him selfishly want to keep you to himself. Even if he has nothing else to offer you.

So he chooses to swallow his pride, just this once, to prove to you why you should choose to stay and stop searching for pleasure in other men — because Hyunjin knows you will find much more than that in them. Much more than what he has.

“‘Okay’ isn’t what you deserve,” He tuts, his mind slowly fogging over with desire as you roll your hips harder against his length. “Isn’t what you’re used to after all these months, is it? Hm?” He urges, raising a hand to lightly brush against your jaw before gripping it. “Answer me.”

Hyunjin knows you’re struggling not to give in; that’s one of his favorite things about having sex with you. The push and pull, how you try so hard to act tough and unbothered but ultimately melt under his touch every time. Even so, he was only able to truly break you for the first time a couple of months ago. You’re obstinate, he’ll give you that.

You shrug again, and he knows it’s the only answer he’ll get from you for now.

“Are you gonna see him again?” He asks instead.

You let out a quiet sigh as Hyunjin lazily grazes your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb.

“Don’t think so.”

“Yeah?” He asks, arching a brow almost knowingly. “I can’t help but think you only brought him home to make me listen to you.”

And you giggle at that. The same overly sweet, coy giggle Hyunjin heard through his wall last night.

“I guess you’ll never know,” you simply answer, running a hand through his hair and lightly gripping a fistful while your eyes flicker down to his lips.

Hyunjin wastes no more time talking to you — he knows your conversations usually lead nowhere. He crashes his lips into yours, fingers gripping your jaw once more and forcing your lips open, his tongue slipping inside your mouth. You whimper into the kiss, a sound he knows slipped past your lips unwittingly. Your tongue swirls against his, and he savors your taste with a low hum.

You tilt your hips up, chasing after him again and whining when Hyunjin moves out of reach. He smiles.

“You want me to give you what you’re used to?” He asks against your lips, and you’re quick to nod. “So fucking greedy, made me listen to you get fucked last night only to come running back to me.” He slides his hands under your ass and picks you up effortlessly, carrying you toward his bedroom with an exasperated sigh. “Would’ve been easier if you just admitted no guy will ever be as good as me, wouldn’t it?”

“Shut the fuck up,” you snarl, but your words are cut short as Hyunjin throws you onto his bed and promptly walks to his wardrobe. “At least Jihoon got to it quick. I’m not one of your viewers, I don’t care much for your chatter.”

Hyunjin lets out a hearty laugh, retrieving a small blue box from among his clothes and sitting at the edge of the bed. “He got to it quick? Is that your way of telling me your date was a one-minute man?”

You open your mouth as if you’re ready to refute him but ultimately close it and cross your arms over your chest, willing him to do something. Hyunjin stifles another laugh.

“Good thing you have me, then,” He mutters, the goading lilt to his voice impossible to disguise. Placing the box on his nightstand, he hovers over your body once again. “I got all these toys, and we never got around to playing with them together.”

You visibly shudder, nodding slowly as Hyunjin looms over you. He slots your lips together once more, this time much more softly. Your tongue lightly brushes against his bottom lip, licking into his mouth as your thighs wrap around his hips, hooking your ankles behind him and drawing his body flush against yours.

With each languid and deliberate stroke of his tongue, Hyunjin revels in the way he can feel you grow more impatient, tugging at the fabric of his shirt and rutting your hips against his. His hands slip under the hem of your shirt to grip your waist, easing your movements. The way his cock strains against his sweatpants becomes impossible to ignore as his hard length presses against your warm core harder and harder with each roll of your hips. 

Hyunjin’s hand glides from your waist to your stomach, caressing your skin before finding its way to your cunt, fingers harshly pressing against your clothed wetness. You whimper into the kiss as he lazily circles your clit over the fabric of your shorts.

“Let’s make a deal,” Hyunjin whispers as he pulls away. “You admit I’m the best fuck you’re ever gonna have, and I might let you come.”

He punctuates his words with a firm press of his fingers to your clit, and he can visibly see your resolve crumbling before him, but you still force out an indignant huff.

“In your dreams,” you shakily breathe out.

Hyunjin shrugs, his fingers leaving your core and traveling over the expanse of your stomach. He promptly rids you of your shirt, and you hiss as his hands brush against your sensitive nipples, Hyunjin watching as they immediately stiffen in response.

Your habit of not wearing a bra nearly drives Hyunjin insane — even on the first day you came knocking at his door, he remembers having to fight the urge to glance down at the way your nipples peaked beneath the fabric of your white shirt.

You’ve been driving him crazy since you walked into his line of sight.

Hyunjin lightly massages your breasts before grazing your hardened nipples with his thumbs, swiftly sucking one into his mouth, causing sighs to spill from your lips as your hand tangled in his hair. He flicks the stiff bud with his tongue before grazing his teeth over it, and you roughly tug at his roots. He smiles against your skin, nudging the peak of your nipples with his lips and sighing.

“Say it,” he calmly tells you, but your only response is tugging harder at his hair. “You’re so stubborn,” He chides, tugging his shirt over his head. “I told you, you’re only coming if you fucking admit it.”

He slowly moves onto the foot of the bed, his hands roaming along your legs with featherlight touches. He places wet kisses from your stomach to your inner thighs, sucking lightly at the skin until his lips hovered tantalizingly close to your still-clothed, aching cunt. And then he stops, instead pressing a kiss to your hips.

“Hyunjin,” his name falls from your lips as a breathy whine. He looks up to find your gaze already on him, eyes silently pleading. He grins, thumbs drawing circles on your inner thighs as you push your hips into his face, but he promptly pulls away. “Please,” you finally whisper, although barely audibly. 

Hyunjin hums, satisfied, pressing a wet kiss to your core through the fabric of your shorts before sliding them down your legs along with your panties. He hisses through his teeth at the sight of your wetness, thumbs gliding up and down your folds before spreading you before him. His tongue immediately pokes out to travel up your slit before wrapping his lips around your swollen clit, sucking harshly, and your hand soon flies to rest on his head.

He lifts his eyes once more, humming against your folds as he finds your head rolled back onto his pillows, lips falling open as you softly mewl. He could listen to your sweet sounds all night, reveling in the way every flick of his tongue made you become louder and louder until you were all but screaming his name.

But he has to teach you a lesson tonight.

His tongue delves deep into you, gliding against your slick inner walls, causing even more arousal to flood his lips. His eyes flutter closed with a pleased hum, lapping up every drop of your wetness.

“Fuck,” you rasp, and Hyunjin knows you’re close.

With a wicked grin, he slips two fingers into your warm cunt, curling them just the way you love while his tongue expertly circles your clit. When you roll your hips against his lips, yanking his head toward your body, Hyunjin pulls away.

He watches as your eyes shoot open and you frown at him, but he simply grins, thumb wiping at his glistening mouth before slipping the digit into your agape lips.

“Say it,” he repeats, unrelenting, and stifles a laugh when you groan loudly.

You hook a leg around his waist, bringing his body close to yours again, the heat of his thick cock pressing against your soaked cunt. Hyunjin sucks in a breath, focusing on reining in his emotions, determined not to let you win. His mind is already completely clouded with lust, desperate to fuck you into the mattress, but he refuses to give you the satisfaction of watching him give in to you.

He bends his face to yours, gasping out a curse as he watches the way you swirl your tongue around his finger with a hum, lazily sucking it while maintaining your eyes locked onto his. He presses the pad of his thumb down onto your tongue, and your lips obediently fall open before upturning into a taunting smile.

You still think you’re in control.

Hyunjin shakes his head, his resolve coming back to him.

His fingers fall from your tongue, and he presses his lips against yours. You melt into the kiss, hands traveling down the expanse of Hyunjin’s abdomen, then back up to wrap around his broad shoulders. He lets you do as you please, rummaging through his box until his fingers brush against what he’s looking for. He sucks your tongue into his mouth, ultimately distracting you, and you let out a small whimper, which grows into a loud groan as he presses the blunt tip of the massaging wand to your clit and switches it to the medium setting.

“What the fuck,” You all but growl into his lips, and Hyunjin hums.

“Does it feel good, baby?”

You let out a shuddering sigh. “T-Too much,” you whimper, hands scrambling for Hyunjin’s arms in an attempt to ground yourself, but ultimately clawing at his bedsheets.

He glides the wand along your drenched folds, moving up and down, eyes transfixed on the way your arousal drips out of you and coats the toy. Your entire body jolts when he harshly presses the vibrating tip directly onto your clit. He could come just by watching you squirm underneath him, loud groans falling from your lips. How he wished Jihoon could be in your room, listening to how beautiful you sound when you’re actually being taken care of properly.

Hyunjin feels his cock twitch every time your body shudders, trying to escape the relentless vibrations, sticky precum gathering in his sweatpants and increasing his discomfort. He desperately wants to fuck you.

With a low grunt, he leans in closer to you, pinning your arm to your side and flicking his wrist as he presses down harder on your swollen clit.

“Got no idea how pretty you sound, do you?” He hisses, “If only you weren’t such a fucking brat and just — fuck.”

His words dissipate when your free hand wiggles between your bodies and pulls down his sweatpants, freeing his cock. Your fingers immediately wrap around his length, squeezing him tightly before frantically stroking him. The sounds that echoed through the room were lewd, unmistakable evidences of both your arousals.

Hyunjin pulls the wand from your clit, turning down the vibrations and letting it rest against one of your peaked nipples while he grips his cock in his fist, the swollen tip prodding at your entrance, just barely pushing in. You whimper loudly, clutching his arm, fingernails digging crescent moons into his pale skin.

“Come on,” he growls, cock now gliding up and down your slit. “I know you wanna come, just fucking say it.”

But you’re unrelenting, staring into his eyes and weakly shaking your head.

Hyunjin stops his movements altogether, his shaft nestled against your soaking cunt, the head of his cock resting heavily on your clit. He presses the wand down onto his length, increasing the intensity to the highest setting. A loud, broken moan falls from your throat as your shaky hands grip his wrist, your back arching off the bed. You try to push the toy away, but Hyunjin’s free hand wraps around your neck, effortlessly pinning your pliant body down onto the mattress.

He presses his forehead to yours, his sweat dripping down onto your breasts as he fights off his orgasm.

“Fucking say it,” he hisses, tears gathering in your lashes. The unyielding vibrations from the wand traveling through his cock and going straight onto your clit, coupled with the way his hand tightens around your throat, finally have every bit of your resolve crumbling.

“You,” you choke out, “Best fuck I’ll ever fucking have, Hyunjin, god — I wanna come, please.”

Hyunjin feels satisfaction enveloping his entire being, and the pleasure intensifies tenfold, his cock twitching and a low groan reverberating from the depths of his chest.

“Come for me, baby,” he breathes out, giving your neck one last squeeze, and your climax erupts from you with a loud cry. As your entire body convulses and your head tilts back, Hyunjin can feel your release coating his cock before dripping onto the sheets below.

As you struggle to catch your breath, your grip on his wrist tightens and your body squirms away from the vibrations, but Hyunjin only presses down harder, seeking his own release. He soon comes with a sigh, eyebrows scrunching together, his cum landing all over your cunt.

He turns off the vibrator, labored breaths mixing with yours as you two come down from your highs.

“You’re fucking insane,” you chuckle after a beat.

And Hyunjin’s lips stretch into a lazy smile. “And you owe me a date.”

You were reluctant at first, having assumed it was simply Hyunjin’s ego talking that night, only teasing you because you were going on a date with someone else when he proposed that odd bet. However, you eventually found out he wasn’t at all joking and actually wanted his ‘prize’ — as he called it — for winning the bet.

Figuring out a date was an aggravating task, given that Hyunjin worked on weekends and you worked on weekdays. You told him numerous times to just let it go; you could simply hang out in his apartment like you usually did and call it a date. It wasn’t anything serious, just another one of his whims.

But Hyunjin’s persistence was unwavering, and he settled for taking yet another day off and canceling his livestream altogether so he could take you out on a Saturday.

Although you weren’t looking forward to it at first, you unknowingly smiled whenever you saw the day marked on your calendar alongside your endless work assignments. It was ridiculous, and you wouldn’t admit it to him, but deep down, you were actually excited about this date. You wanted to know what it’s like to have a conversation that doesn’t end in you two bickering, wanted to know what it feels like to hang out with him without the thought of fucking looming over your heads.

You were strangely excited to get to know Hyunjin outside the four walls of your apartments.

But the Sunday before your date, disappointment washed over you like a cold bucket of water when Hyunjin told you he had to cancel.

What did you expect? You knew Hyunjin. This should’ve been the obvious outcome from the start, but you were stupid and allowed yourself to be swept away by a hope that proved too good to be true.

He waited until he finished his livestream to tell you — as if canceling less than a week before wasn’t already bad enough. Your irritation reached its peak as you sat in his bed and listened to him insist it wasn’t his fault.

“One of the other hosts had a family emergency so he’ll be gone for two weekends,” he explained, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his words. Family emergency. Of course.

“Hyunjin, you say that like you don’t take countless days off with no issues,” you refuted, and his frown deepened while he shook his head.

Just say you don’t wanna go on this stupid date.

He sighed, rubbing his temples. “It’s not like that. We have rules to follow,” he insisted. “Only one host can be absent at a time. I don’t have a valid reason for bailing on Saturday, so I’m forced to go.”

“Or you’ll lose your precious number one spot?”

“Or I’ll lose my fucking job.”

And you simply shrugged as you ultimately realized that was yet another pointless conversation between you. You then went on to have sex, as you always did when confronted with the threat of a serious conversation, and the topic was forgotten.

At least by Hyunjin.

You spend the next days avoiding him to the best of your abilities. Deep down, you know you’re behaving like a child, but the way you allowed yourself to get excited over something as stupid as a date with him still makes you feel pathetic. It’s impossible not to feel like he raised your hopes only for the pleasure of shutting you down. All because you went out with someone else, and you know that was a blow to his ego.

You two have never been anything more than friends who hook up — and even using that term feels almost comical, seeing as you two can’t have a conversation without it turning into a petty argument or an ego battle — but his insistence on this date, and your own eagerness seemed to hint at something more.

Clearly, you were mistaken.

You brought Jihoon back to your apartment hoping to have mind-blowing sex after a nice date. Plus, you knew Hyunjin would hear you, and you terribly wanted to deflate his ego. A win-win situation in your book. Instead, you had mediocre sex at best. Jihoon skipped foreplay entirely, simply pounded into you, and finished far too quickly while leaving you hanging.

Maybe he was too tipsy to perform well, or maybe the women in your office are living in a depressing reality where a guy’s ability to find the clitoris means he’s a god among men. Either way, even after putting on your best performance, Hyunjin still saw right through you.

And the worst part is, even you can’t explain why you did that. Your mind argues it was all for the pleasure of vexing him; he’s been annoying you since he first moved in next door, after all. But your heart is quick to jump in with a list of facts and reasons why that can’t be the case — all while presenting some valid arguments that lead you to believe you might like Hyunjin more than originally planned.

But he was still Hyunjin at the end of the day. Your egotistical idiot neighbor whose fragile ego you hurt, so he’s retaliating.

After three days of successfully ignoring Hyunjin, one of your friends at work makes all your work crumble with a single phrase.

“I can’t believe we still haven’t gone back to The Siren,” she grumbled during lunch, and you stabbed an innocent piece of broccoli with your fork.

That was all it took to ignite your curiosity.

You sit at your desk later in the day and look up that damn club, telling yourself you simply want to find out why your friends are so desperate to go there. This has nothing to do with Hyunjin.

Upon entering their website, you realize The Siren wasn’t a nightclub as you had imagined; it’s an elegant lounge with a lavish-looking bar you’re sure charged $5 for a bottle of water. As you read the club’s About Us page, the entrance fee almost has you choking on your coffee, despite it being expected for such a place. Among several rules, one catches your eye:

The club allows a maximum of twenty attendees per night, offering a choice of twenty-five hosts.

You gnaw on your bottom lip at the realization that perhaps Hyunjin wasn’t lying, and that was the reason only one host could be absent at a time.

Eventually, you find your way to the Hosts section of the website. You’re a bit taken aback by how these men are presented as amenities, like products displayed at an online shop, with nothing but their names and a picture along with their price.

They’re divided into tiers: gold, emerald, and platinum. Hosts in the gold tier are younger, most likely having just started on the job, and their prices are the most affordable. The emerald tier is more expensive, with some hosts who look old enough to be your father. The disturbing realization dawns on you that these men’s values diminish as they age.

On the platinum tier, only five hosts are displayed, and you blanch at each of their unique prices. Hyunjin is the most expensive, at $500, excluding extra fees. You click on his black and white picture, and a myriad of photos of Hyunjin flood your screen. You’re struck by how different he looks in these shots; his styled hair and impeccably tailored suits look nothing like the man you see at your apartments every day, lounging around in sweatpants and loose t-shirts.

A description sits at the top of the page, short but still enough to make you grimace. 

Hyunjin has held our club’s esteemed number-one position for two consecutive years now, and rightfully so. Complementing his striking good looks is an alluring personality that will make you feel cherished throughout the evening. His undivided attention will undoubtedly meet your satisfaction, and his additional services will leave you breathless.

You aren’t sure what you were expecting — you were already aware of the nature of Hyunjin’s job as a host — but the club’s portrayal of these people as mere products leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

Your curiosity has morphed into frustration as you return to the homepage, but a message catches your eye just as you’re about to exit the website. Three spots are now available for Saturday night due to the absence of one of their hosts. And before you can even process your actions, you’ve already booked these spots for you and two friends.

Thank you for choosing to unwind at The Siren! We will contact you individually regarding further details, including host orders.

Host orders? That is enough to make you close the website.

You can’t believe you’re going to do this. You know for a fact Hyunjin will be upset, but you can’t bring yourself to care. If he wants to toy with your emotions, you have every right to show up at this club.

You wait for Hyunjin to leave for work to get ready on Saturday. You weren’t able to avoid him this afternoon and spent the day lazying around in your apartment, binge-watching some new reality TV show he’s obsessed with.

You expected Hana and Naeun to eat you alive for buying tickets to this overpriced club without consulting them first, but their excitement overshadowed any anger they had. You also played up your excitement, although, by the time your shift had ended, you mostly felt regret for spending all that money purely out of spite.

The email you received explains The Siren has a strict dress code, not allowing any client in unless they’re dressed to their standards.

The patrons are required to match our club’s overall atmosphere.

You rolled your eyes. At least their arrogance fit their ostentatious price.

As you skim through their several other rules, you find out that booking a host isn’t mandatory, and often, hosts will seek out patrons themselves if they’re free for the night.

Be prepared to be approached by one of our available hosts at any given moment. Should you be fortunate enough to capture their attention, that is.

Among the rules, you’re also explicitly told that tipping the hosts anything beyond their set prices is strictly forbidden. The more you learned about this club, the more you struggled to understand why Hyunjin held it in such high esteem.

You bring out your best dress from the back of your closet, hoping you ‘matched the club’s overall atmosphere.’ You let out a heavy sigh as you make it past the What Not to Wear crew guarding the entrance alongside the bouncer, and you are officially in.

“This is your first time here, right?” Hana asks you, linking your arms together. You nod, and she grins before adding, “You’re in for a treat.”

The Siren is exactly what you saw in the pictures, only the dim glow of purple neon lights illuminating the extravagant chandeliers, corner sofas, and opulent decorations you know cost more than your month’s rent.

The owner herself personally escorts every single patron to their seats — a tradition spanning over a decade since the club was first inaugurated. Briefly introducing herself as Taeyeon, the beautiful woman leads you through a long corridor adorned with the hosts’ pictures on the walls. Finally, you arrive at a sofa, where a champagne bottle nestled in an ice bucket already waits for you. She informs Naeun that the host she ordered for the night will be a bit late due to personal reasons, before bidding you goodbye with a smile.

You awkwardly shift in your seat as Hana leaves to fetch you drinks from the bar, and your eyes scan the lounge as it slowly fills up with people. You notice a few of the men you saw on the website parading around the club, a grin etched onto their lips as they lock eyes with a few of the patrons. Other hosts are already tending to their ‘dates,’ sitting beside them on the sofas and attentively listening with warm smiles.

Hyunjin wasn’t lying when he said his job was making lonely women feel wanted.

The club itself is rather boring without the satisfaction of a host pampering you. The slow jazz music playing softly in the background makes you feel almost drowsy, and the dim lighting does little to help. For an hour, you watch as hosts come and go. Some lead their clients toward the bar area, partaking in drinking games with other clients and hosts. Others guide women up the black, shimmering staircase at the back of the club, leaving you to wonder where they could possibly be off to. Thankfully, you’ll have Hana to keep you company when Naeun undoubtedly disappears off to somewhere with the host she ‘ordered.’

Your gaze falls on the sofa in front of you, where a host’s dimpled smile lights up his face as he playfully strokes a woman’s cheek, eliciting a shy giggle from her lips before she continues her story. His intense gaze remains fixed on her face, his hand soothingly trailing down her back while he nods, seemingly enthralled by their conversation. It would be a lie to say coming here after a tiring week at work wouldn’t seem like stepping into a dream. Even if it’s all a well-constructed lie, having a handsome guy cater to your every need and listen to you complain without uttering a word is almost fucking idyllic.

Your eyes then wander toward the back of the club, where a small group of hosts is huddled around a circular table, quietly laughing among themselves. Sitting at the center, Taeyeon’s intent gaze oversees her club’s activities while engaged in a heated phone conversation, her scowl deepening with each word she mutters.

You assume these hosts weren’t booked for the night or are still waiting for their clients to arrive. Just as you’re about to advert your gaze, Hyunjin emerges from a door on the left. His hair is meticulously styled, slicked back to reveal his gorgeous face, and his tall figure is dressed in a white button-up shirt tucked neatly under an expensive-looking black blazer.

Hyunjin has always been beautiful in your eyes, but seeing him exude so much confidence stirs up something inside of you.

His mere presence captivates you so strongly you find it impossible to look away, even as his gaze meets yours. A look of utter bewilderment washes over his face as he stills his movements, looking almost startled. You two fall into an impromptu staring contest as if you’re attempting to communicate with your eyes alone until Naeun taps your shoulder, snapping you out of your haze.

“He’s so fucking hot, isn’t he?”

Your brows knit together. “What?”

“The host you’re ogling at,” Naeun giggles, “I saw him on their website the first time we came here, but I was too late so I couldn’t get him to myself. I’m so glad you asked us to come tonight ‘cause I got to order him before he was booked,” she explains, and you feel as if all the air has frozen in your lungs. Hyunjin is the host your friend ordered. “I’m fucking broke now, but I know it’ll be worth it.”

You inwardly grimace at how she talks about Hyunjin, almost like he’s only a shiny toy she couldn’t buy in the past. That, coupled with how booking a host is so casually referred to as ordering, makes you feel a bit nauseous.

Hyunjin eventually walks over to your table, as you knew he would. He’s Naeun’s host for the night, after all. As he slowly strides toward your sofa, his focus remains solely on you. For a split second, his eyes flicker with something akin to sadness before he quickly resumes his usual persona.

He immediately takes Naeun’s hand, kissing her knuckles with half-lidded eyes and a sultry grin. The way he looks at her has the knot in your stomach tightening, aching with the realization that it’s the same way he always looks at you. You were never anything special or significant to each other — you’re well aware of that — but the sting you feel is unbearable for some reason.

Hyunjin sits beside Naeun, and his focus shifts entirely to her. His wandering hands leave a trail of goosebumps from her arms to her bare legs, while his whispered words make her cheeks flush a rosy pink. And it feels as if he’s completely ignoring your presence, which is such a foolish thought you almost feel ashamed. This is his job, but reminding yourself of that every couple of minutes somehow only makes you feel worse.

Because this isn’t a one-time thing, this happens every single time he works.

At some point, while you were too busy engrossed in Hyunjin and Naeun, Hana got a host of her own. With his bleached blonde hair, a constellation of freckles on his cheeks, and a deep, gentle voice, it seems he’s done his job at captivating her. Each host seems to embody a specific persona. From his less-touchy demeanor to the softness in his eyes when he looks at Hana, it’s clear that this guy is going for the caring boyfriend type.

As you remember how available hosts sometimes approach clients themselves, you fight back the urge to roll your eyes. If they’re available, no one has booked them for the night, meaning they won’t earn a single dollar. Their focus will undoubtedly be on finding the wealthiest available patron. Hana came from old money, only working at your company after falling out with her family, but her head-to-toe Chanel attire radiates wealth. It’s no wonder this host so graciously chose to sit beside her.

Eventually, Hana is led to the large bar by her host, and the atmosphere in your little space becomes increasingly uncomfortable for you. Your neglected drink is now lukewarm, leaving a damp spot on the hem of your dress as condensation seeps through from where you rested the glass on your thighs.

Hyunjin leaves a few minutes later, taking Naeun by the hand. He briefly turns to look at you, his gaze now nearly unreadable. Only disappointment — or was it hurt? — flashes in his brown eyes before he walks away to lead her up that stairwell.

You sit alone for what feels like an eternity, the once bustling lounge slowly falling into a deafening silence around you. Jealousy and hurt intertwine inside your brain, spinning around in an endless cycle and making your head throb.

You’re only waiting until you’ve finished your way too expensive Cosmopolitan — far too warm to be enjoyable now — when a figure suddenly sits beside you. To your surprise, it’s a host. His styled dark brown hair is messy as if he’s been running his hands through it, and his black button-up shirt has the sleeves rolled up, exposing the veins running along his forearms. He’s hot, there’s no denying, but your sour mood won’t be solved by some eye candy.

“Seems we’re both alone tonight,” he starts, a smile slowly spreading across his lips.

You simply hum, taking a final sip of your drink before placing the glass on the table. You’re not really in the mood to entertain this conversation, so you uncross your legs, ready to leave.

But your movements halt when his hand gently rests on your knee.

“You seem so lonely here all by yourself. Why don’t you come with me?” He offers, and your eyes narrow. He lets out a hearty laugh. “No need to act so suspicious, I’m just making an offer. We’re both alone. What’s the harm?”

To say you were skeptical would be an understatement. You clearly remember his face from the website as he was right beside Hyunjin, at the number two spot of the platinum tier, his price only slightly less offensively expensive.

“I’m Minho,” he offers his hand, which you reluctantly take after telling him your name. After your awkward handshake, you try to pull back, but he doesn’t let go. Instead, he places your clasped hands on your lap, his thumb drawing circular shapes on your skin as he continues, “I waited all night for my client to show up. I could really use a distraction.”

Of course.

You take a deep breath, and your gaze shifts towards his face.

“I don’t have money to order you, sorry.”

A smile tugs at the corner of Minho’s lips, his hand leaving yours and finding the skin of your thighs. “How about I make this my treat, then? My client has this habit of ordering me and then ghosting me,” he sighs, “Isn’t that cruel? Taeyeon said she won’t let it fly anymore and is refusing to give her a refund for tonight.”

As Minho’s soft touch glides along your skin, his fingers inching closer to the hem of your dress, your mind replays the scene of Hyunjin’s hand on Naeun’s legs. The way he touched her mirrored how he had touched you so many times, and it replayed in your mind like a flickering film. It ignites the flame of ugly jealousy inside of you once more.

“Your treat?” You whisper, and Minho’s face inches closer to yours, your noses brushing together.

“I’d hate for a pretty girl like you to go home unsatisfied,” he whispers.

You’re walking up the gleaming steps of that staircase before you can make sense of what you’re doing. Minho’s hand doesn’t leave your skin for a second, fingers now gliding across your arms as he leads you down a wide corridor. You eye the place curiously, taking in the row of closed, dark wooden doors lining both sides of the hallway.

Minho leads you toward the only door that has been left ajar, and it finally dawns on you what happens on the second floor of The Siren.

The room is not large; a round bed occupies most of the space between the small bar and the dark velvet couch. Following your initial conversation with Hyunjin about this job, he consistently evaded any further questions you asked until you eventually gave up. You always assumed he found the subject boring, much like you did when forced to talk about your own job.

You knew his job as a host meant pampering women, making them feel wanted and tending to their every need throughout the night. It seems your brain conveniently failed to remember that it also implied having sex with them.

“I only fuck them if they’re willing to pay, and I’m expensive.”

You feel a shudder run through your body as those words ring inside your mind. That’s what extra fees meant.

Hyunjin led Naeun up those stairs. It doesn’t take much imagination to know what they were doing at that exact moment.

Minho locks the door behind you, and his strong arms circle your waist, drawing you closer to his body. His gaze drops to your lips, and a smile spreads across his face.

“Is this okay?” His voice is gentle, with no pressure lingering in his words. You know you could say no, go back home, and wallow in your self-pity for the rest of the night.

But you don’t want to do that.

Because you know Hyunjin is currently fucking your friend. And, despite the rational side of your brain screaming that this is his job, it does little to extinguish the searing fire of jealousy that burns under your skin.

So, you allow yourself to fall into bed with Minho.

His touches are almost feather-light, his kisses gentle, and his movements deliberate as he fucks into you.

It feels good, but it’s not what you’re used to.

It’s not Hyunjin.

Hyunjin returned home as soon as he possibly could after his shift.

Any anger was dampened by the sadness and shame he felt because you had to see him at the club. It’s his job, but it’s a job he never truly loved. He feels vulnerable and powerless as a host, a stark contrast to what he feels when camming.

Taeyeon personally scouted him from his livestream. He was twenty and already making enough money to provide for himself. He didn’t need a new job, but the allure of the validation he knew it would provide him was enticing. Compliments and adoration fueled Hyunjin throughout his entire life. He knew it was a bit pathetic, but that was how he was taught to be.

During his training period, Taeyeon and the older hosts instructed him. They taught him how to erase his true self to fit into what would most appeal to clients. That was easy for Hyunjin. He’d already been doing that for most of his life.

He wasn’t tricked into anything. He was given a meticulous explanation of every minute detail of the job and was allowed to set hard limits for anything he wasn’t comfortable doing. Taeyeon treated the hosts like her family, like older and younger brothers she cared for. She provided apartments for those who came into the job with nothing, paid off student debts, and was always willing to listen to their problems.

She would be the perfect boss if not for her love of money.

Every host receives only 5% of any money they make for the club. Hyunjin, as the highest-paid host at The Siren, only makes around $100 per weekend — if he’s lucky enough to have clients booking him for extra services every night.

He knows he’s being exploited but can’t bring himself to quit.

When he first discovered the ranking system at the club, he turned to smoking because of pressure. Naturally, he started at the lowest tier but needed to climb as fast as possible. He was determined to do whatever it took to reach that number one spot. He bleached his hair, splashed out on clothes he didn’t like, and even took up groups of clients per night. Hyunjin had always found comfort in sex. He had complete control of the situation and the satisfaction of knowing he was the reason someone felt good was just another form of validation, like he was loved for as long as the sex lasted.

Sex at the club was never like that. It was a chore, something he did because he had to. It wasn’t anything like camming, and it wasn’t like having sex with someone he actually cared about.

It wasn’t anything like having sex with you.

Seeing you that night only made it harder for him to drag himself up those stairs and do what was expected of him.

Hyunjin got home that night and fell asleep on the couch. He couldn’t be bothered to do anything, especially shower, as the thought of facing his reflection in the mirror was unbearable. Different emotions swirled inside him like a tornado until they ultimately consumed him before he finally dozed off.

He thought he could trust you, thought you knew him well enough to understand why he wanted to keep this part of himself hidden from you. The night he first told you about this job, he put on a mask — like he always did — and put on his best act, playing up his arrogance despite how scared he felt. When you told him that same night he wasn’t anything worth falling for, and that you could be together only until you found something better, he felt as if his heart had shattered for the first time in his life.

That was the night he realized a mask couldn’t protect him from everything. Especially his own heart.

It wasn’t intentional — liking you this much hasn’t been exactly enjoyable. It simply happened. Because you were the only one who ever chipped away at his impenetrable wall and saw the closest thing to the real Hyunjin, yet still chose to stay.

You hadn’t stayed because of his looks; you two never cared about impressing each other.

You hadn’t stayed solely for the sex; you two often got together simply to enjoy each other’s company.

Hyunjin couldn’t be blamed for assuming you had stayed because you knew him. Not the mask he wore or the persona he showed to the world — the real him.

But tonight, even among all the designer clothes and expensive drinks, he felt as if you had just witnessed him at his lowest. And he could only hope you still chose to stay after that.

You’ve barely been awake for an hour when a knock echoes through your apartment. You gnaw on the inside of your cheek, because there’s only one person who could be at the other side of the door.

After your jealousy-clouded brain made the asinine decision to sleep with Minho, you’ve locked away any and every thought into a pretty little box inside your mind. You didn’t want to think about what you had done because you knew the remorse would slowly erode your mind. You certainly didn’t want to think about Hyunjin, as even the faint memory of his eyes from the previous night would dig at your heart until it shattered.

But there was nowhere you could hide outside of your mind.

Hyunjin is quiet as you open the door, and he remains quiet as you two sit together on your couch. Your tea sits forgotten on your coffee table, and you focus on the swirls of steam rising from your mug as you endure his silence.

You force yourself to speak when your tea finally goes cold.

“I’m sorry,” you simply say.

Hyunjin’s hands tug at the sleeves of his sweater, and he sucks in a shuddering breath. “Why did you come to the club without telling me?”

“I was angry at you,” You bite your lip, knowing your reasoning is ridiculous. “Because of the date…” you trail off, and Hyunjin turns to face you, his eyes meeting yours for the first time since he walked into your apartment.

“So you thought coming to my work would be a good idea?”

You shrug, instinctively looking away as you feel the intensity of his eyes on you. It was just like when you first met him, only it made you ashamed instead of flustered. You missed that initial lightness, but you knew that was long gone now. Sorting out your issues with Hyunjin was necessary if you ever hoped to have a healthy relationship. If every conversation turned into an argument that would only be avoided through sex, there was no point in dragging this on.

“I wasn’t thinking,” is all you can say.

Hyunjin scoffs. “That was kinda obvious.”

The biting tone in his voice makes you rise to your feet, shaking your head. You put as much distance between you and him as possible.

“What? You wanted me to be rational when I thought you were just playing with me?” You throw your hands up as you blurted out, exasperation consuming any remaining trace of pride within you. “When I thought you were having fun acting jealous and proposing dates only to come up with shitty excuses to shut it all down?”

“Playing with you?” Hyunjin mirrors your words, eyes narrowing as he closes the distance you had created. “I thought you knew me enough to know I mean it when I say something. I wanted to go on that date with you, and I was fucking jealous. That night you forced me to listen to you fuck another guy made me wanna punch my fucking wall.”

You open your lips, but no words come out.

You’re embarrassed. Going to The Siren wasn’t the first childish thing you had done out of spite because of Hyunjin. But your anger was never directed at him. It was always you; for allowing yourself to become so attached to him and like him so much that it drove you mad.

Going on that date simply to rile Hyunjin up, showing up at his job because you felt entitled to when your mind insisted you had been wronged — that was all you and your stupid mind being incapable of accepting the fact that you have fallen for the guy you swore would never be of any significance to you.

The guy you so proudly declared unworthy of falling for.

“Are you really not gonna say anything?” Hyunjin lets out a weak laugh, and when your eyes meet again, his expression leaves no room for doubt this time. Sadness swims freely in his eyes while they well up with tears that he vigorously fights to hold back. “I thought you knew me,” he reiterates. “Thought you stayed because you knew…” He trails off, shaking his head.

As he turns to leave, you instinctively reach out for him. After nine months of knowing each other, you hold his hand for the first time.

“I do know you, Hyunjin,” you blurt out, squeezing his hand when he refuses to look at you. “I stayed because I know you. Beyond your rankings, beyond that club, beyond this damn wall you built around yourself. At least a little bit, I know you.”

He takes a deep breath before his eyes lock on yours again. “I feel like you’ve been tearing down brick by brick of my wall.” He’s the one to squeeze your hand this time. “I kinda fucking hate that.”

You attempt to stifle a chuckle, but it escapes your lips nonetheless. Hyunjin smiles.

“I’d love to know you even more, beyond this mask you wear all the time,” you confess. And you’re tired of hiding behind your own mask, so you tell him, “It’s tiring feeling like I only know half of who you truly are when I already like you so fucking much as it is.”

Hyunjin’s eyes widen, surprise eclipsing any trace of his initial sadness.

“What? You like me?” He sputters, and you bite your lips as a smile spreads on your lips.

You cannot believe this is the same Hyunjin whose ego made you want to punch his face.

“Well, no shit,” you chuckle. “Why do you think I put up with you for so long? Don’t you think if I was looking for something better, I would’ve found it already?”

Hyunjin’s lips crash into yours before you can say anything else, his fingertips barely brushing against your skin as he cupped your face.

Your lips part for him, and a low hum resonates from his chest. You wrap your free arm around his shoulder, your hands still tightly intertwined, and pull him closer to you. It’s an awkward position, but neither of you is willing to unclasp your hands.

Hyunjin’s tongue glides languidly into your open lips, making you clutch at his arm as your mind goes dizzy. You had never kissed like this — always too impatient and lust-drunk to savor the feeling of each other’s lips properly.

It sends your entire body ablaze.

He’s pulling away far too soon, tugging at your bottom lip with a small smile.

“I’m not something better, but I’m gonna be,” he mutters against your lips. “For you.”

But you shake your head. “Just let me in. You’re already more than enough.”

In order for your efforts to work, you and Hyunjin established three crucial rules: absolute honesty, open communication, and no fucking until significant progress is made.

You start slowly, with that unfulfilled date that had been the catalyst for you two finally confronting your feelings.

Hyunjin was nervous. The few times he’s gone on dates, his mind was set on wrapping it up as soon as possible to take the person home. It didn’t matter where they went or what they did; every date inevitably led to his bed.

This time was different.

You certainly weren’t expecting to have a picnic on a Saturday afternoon. Your surprise was evident as your eyes widened at the sight before you: Hyunjin, standing at your door with a picnic basket and a digital camera slung around his neck. When you jokingly commented on how that was the most un-Hyunjin thing you had ever seen him do, he nonchalantly shrugged.

As you two sat together under a tree, however, he told you he’s always loved picnics. Growing up near a park, picnics became a family tradition that started when he was just a kid and still happens whenever he visits his parents. The silly smile that was etched onto your lips lingered throughout the entire day. Hyunjin’s closed-off nature made that small piece of information feel like a precious gem you had just collected. It was far greater than any of the pointless conversations you two had in the last nine months.

It felt like watching another brick from his once towering wall shatter to the ground.

Hyunjin quit his job at the club a month after your first date.

He didn’t elaborate on it at first, simply telling you it felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. You had now learned it was best to give him space, as his tendency to shut himself off only worsened if he felt pressured. Deep inside, Hyunjin yearned to share every little detail about himself with you and hear your own stories in return. However, years of keeping everyone at a comfortable distance hindered his ability to open up without feeling vulnerable.

So you only pulled him into a hug, running your hands through his hair as he let out a heavy sigh. You two then set off for your date at a bakery close to your apartments, with the subject seemingly forgotten.

Until Hyunjin suddenly told you the entire truth under a lamppost in front of your building. He whispered that he didn’t want to go home yet, and you found yourselves sitting on the sidewalk as you listened to his story. You weren’t exactly shocked at the information dumped on you, but it still made your heart sore. He was taken advantage of because he longed to feel accepted, to feel loved.

During the elevator ride, you could tell Hyunjin was struggling to hold back tears with every ounce of his strength. You know he was eager to be alone when he pressed a weak kiss to your forehead before heading towards his door. So you reached out for his hand once more and pulled him toward your apartment despite his protests.

That night, Hyunjin struggled to suppress his tears until they ultimately overflowed out of his eyes and down his cheeks as you held him on the couch. Before you knew it, tears unwittingly streamed down your face as well. It was as if your emotions were a mirror image of his.

Another brick down.

You discover Hyunjin’s love for photography by accident.

Everywhere you went together, his camera was draped around his neck. At first, you paid little attention to that detail. His job consisted of being in front of a camera; it wouldn’t be outrageous to surmise he simply enjoyed documenting his daily life. You teased him about it one day as he stopped in front of a flower shop to snap yet another picture. He shrugged, casually telling you he’d been taking pictures since his teenage years, later majoring in photography before dropping out of university.

Unable to tame your nagging curiosity, you urged him to show you his pictures. Nestled deep inside his wardrobe were several boxes filled with photographs he had taken over the years. Most captured the simple beauty of ordinary places and simple things, like the pretty flowers he saw at the shop you walked past, but some showed people candidly laughing while immersed in the happiness of their daily lives in parks or museums.

He wore an unabashed grin on his lips when he opened another box, this one containing around ten developed pictures of you. Among the small pile of photos, one catches your eye: your smiling side profile beaming at a group of kids, a hand shielding your eyes from the sun. You turn the picture around, and the words “First date. I was so nervous, and she was so pretty” are scribbled in black sharpie. Hyunjin groaned beside you, telling you he just jotted down something stupid without much thought. It made you smile like a kid.

“Don’t worry,” he said with a weak chuckle, “I never show them to anybody. None of them are really good, anyway.”

You furrowed your brows at his words, studying his face for any hint of sarcasm. His pictures were beautiful, perfectly depicting how happiness and mundanity often blended into one unbeknownst to people. But Hyunjin noticed, with his camera always ready at the right time for the perfect shot, even with things as small as a snapshot of your first date.

“They’re amazing, Hyunjin,” you told him matter-of-factly. “This is the kind of thing you’d find in art galleries. I can’t believe you keep this talent hidden.”

He shrugs your words off at first, taking a photo in his hand and studying it for a few seconds. His lips curve into a small smile, shyly at first, until his face is beaming as he looks down at his work. You can’t help but smile along, noticing how his cheeks blushed for the first time since you met him.

Another brick down.

In two months, you and Hyunjin went from meeting only at your apartments to going on weekly dates and from pointless bickering to actually understanding each other. The more he opened up, the more you found yourself being vulnerable around him as well.

You learned Hyunjin’s confidence was truthfully a part of him; he simply played it up to a maddening degree to protect himself. He is a confident man, but he’s certainly not the egotistical idiot you once believed him to be.

Your suspicions about him secretly being a softie were also confirmed as you witnessed him cry nearly every time you watched the romance movies he sheepishly confessed to loving. At first, he would sniffle, rubbing his eyes and clearing his throat, before excusing himself to the bathroom. A few movies later, he allowed himself to openly cry in front of you for the second time. He’s proven to be a certified crier since then, often laying his head on your chest and silently shedding tears while you played with his hair.

At the end of the day, Hyunjin was a flawed, complex person like any other. He wasn’t always soft and sensitive, but he wasn’t only a cocky and smug little shit, either.

You found you loved both sides of him equally.

Your rules proved to be exactly what you needed, as you only felt closer to Hyunjin each passing day.

But a particular rule became your number one enemy after a month.

Your pent-up sexual frustration seemed to escalate with each passing day, fueling an increasing desire to just say fuck it and climb on top of Hyunjin. It certainly didn’t help that he was even clingier now, long limbs always tangling with yours when you lay on the couch, or his warm body pressing against you while you were cooking. Not to mention that you listened to him livestream every weekend. You opted to wait in his living room — because watching him would just be masochistic — but it felt like you had been transported back in time. Sitting alone for hours and listening to him moan was still as torturous as the first time it had happened. Even if you touched yourself to the sound of his voice, it was never enough.

You knew what you needed, but you have been essentially blueballing yourself for a month now.

As you two lie on your bed, watching another sappy romance movie, you can feel the heat rising inside your body, like a thermometer reaching its peak. You were fully expecting Hyunjin to cry, but this movie turned out to be far more erotic than romantic. His persistent need to have his lips on you — be it with a kiss or with lazy nibbles on your neck — also certainly doesn’t help your suffering.

You power through as you watch the love interests making out while Hyunjin lightly presses his lips to your neck, his body all but caging you against your bed. But the moment the couple heads to the bedroom, hastily undressing each other with heavy pants and sighs, you absentmindedly part your legs. Hyunjin is hovering above you before you can make sense of what’s happening, your laptop carelessly thrown to the side. His body pressed against yours, fitting perfectly between your thighs, as his darkening eyes bore into you.

“Hyunjin,” you have half a mind to say, “Our rule.”

He simply nods, and goosebumps ripple across your body when you feel his hardening member brush against you.

“We made progress,” he states with a grin. “You even let me into your room now.”

“It’s not enough to justify fucking again.”

As much as you were desperate for it.

He swallows slowly, nodding and bending his face to yours. “But our rule says no fucking,” he reasons. “If I make love to you, then it won’t even count.”

“Love?” You whisper, and the thermometer shatters as he presses a long kiss to your open lips.

“Yeah,” Hyunjin smiles between kisses, brushing his lips against yours. “Love.”

It’s not a clear confession, not a beautiful I love you whispered between kisses — but you know Hyunjin, and the sincerity in his voice says everything.

Your fingers clutch at the fabric of his shirt as you pull him even closer to you, and he promptly presses his mouth against yours, his tongue teasingly gliding across your bottom lip. Each roll of your hips ignites the heat within you like scorching lava, your desire swallowing you entirely after so long of craving this.

His tongue presses against yours, effortlessly taking control of the kiss, capturing your bottom lip with his teeth before releasing it and traveling toward your jaw. He sucks the sensitive skin into his mouth with a hum, drawing out a whimper from your lips while he moves down the column of your neck. Smiling against your collarbone, Hyunjin alternates between harsh nibbles and soft kisses, leaving blooming rosy spots on every inch of your skin. He travels toward your chest, his hands slipping under your shirt and brushing your skin before tugging off the fabric.

Hyunjin’s hands cup your breasts, your nipples tightening under his attention, and his lips move down your body, placing kisses from your chest to your stomach. His hand eagerly kneads the soft skin of your chest while the other pinches your nipple, rolling the sensitive nub between his fingertips.

“I missed this,” he whispers, voice muffled against your skin, and you let out a shaky breath as a response when his fingers toy with the waistband of your sweatpants. “That was a stupid rule.”

“Shut up.” You let out a breathy laugh. “It was a great rule, it helped us make progress.”

“Fuck progress,” Hyunjin groans, tugging your sweatpants off.

He wastes no time hoisting your legs over his shoulders, causing you to shudder and goosebumps to ripple through your body when his lips close around your clit without warning. His tongue licks long stripes up the length of your slit, his fingers spreading you open so he can lap at your arousal with a low hum. Hyunjin’s thumb rubs circles around your clit as his lips find your inner thighs, sucking and biting at the skin, leaving another blushing trail of his yearning for you.

His tongue delves into your wetness, savoring you with tantalizing, pleasure-filled groans that travel through your cunt. The insistent throb between your thighs intensifies, your hand tugging at his hair and your hips rolling into his touch as you arch your back. Hyunjin’s fingers dig into the skin of your thighs while you reach your peak, his teeth pulling your clit gently as you come with a broken cry.

Your cheeks are flushed, and your eyes are heavy with lust when he looks at you, his firm grip keeping your legs over his shoulders.

“You still think that rule was great?” Hyunjin gives you a lopsided grin that almost has you rolling your eyes, only he presses one last kiss to your sensitive clit, rending you unable to do anything but mewl and tug at his hair. He chuckles, pressing his lips to your inner thighs once more, his eyes still locked onto yours.

You needed him closer, his strong arms surrounding you and his scent enveloping your senses until you felt dizzy. The mere thought of his cock has you clenching, arousal trickling down your slit, and you tug at his hair harshly with a whine.

Hyunjin climbs over you again, tugging his shirt over his head in one fluid movement and crashing his lips into yours, the taste of your release swirling in your mouth as your tongues meet.

“You’re so fucking needy,” he chides. You simply hum, his thick length brushing against your core as he leans down to kiss you again.

“You’re one to talk,” you smirk, breaking the kiss and rolling your hips up into his erection. Hyunjin scoffs, his hands capturing your wrists and pinning them over your head, his eyes darkening as he looms over you.

There’s no more push and pull between you two during your daily lives, but it’s something you hope never fades away during sex. You’re sure Hyunjin’s need to have control, coupled with your taste for riling him up, will make sure that never happens.

But Hyunjin has no intentions of making you beg tonight — not after so many weeks of making himself cum to the thought of your pretty cunt, knowing that damn rule kept him from actually having you.

He tugs his sweatpants out of his way, one hand still pinning your wrists to the mattress. You bite your lip at the sight of his cock hanging heavily, tantalizingly close to your sopping cunt. Hyunjin strokes himself hastily, clearly having grown impatient, precum dribbling from the ruddy head of his cock and easing the glide of his fist.

The swollen tip slides against your wetness, and he lets out a shaky breath, pressing his forehead to yours. The delicious stretch as he presses inside has your hands instinctively reaching out to him. But his grip on your wrists only tightens, keeping them in place as he leans into you, stretching you further with a hiss.

“Fuck, I missed being buried in your cunt,” Hyunjin mumbles, and you moan as his teeth nip at your earlobe. “Always so tight, like you were made for me.”

He sheaths himself inside of you completely, and you arch your back with a groan as his cock twitches inside your sensitive spot.

“Made just for you,” you choke out as Hyunjin slowly thrusts into you, agonizingly slow and deliberate movements making you dig your nails into your palms. “Hyunjin,” his name dissipates into a whine as he pushes his cock in and out of you languidly.

He chuckles against the shell of your ear, and you wrap your legs around his torso, rolling your hips faster against him. The drawn-out moan that escapes his lips has your cunt clenching and leaking more arousal around his length.

“D’you still like the sound of my voice that much?” He hums, and you nod with a sigh. His slender fingers wrap around your throat, squeezing lightly. “Yeah? Like it when I moan in your ear?”

He finally picks up the pace, pulling back before snapping his hips forward. His lips swallow your moans as he kisses you once, his hand finally releasing your wrists and digging into your hips as he pumps his cock into you. He leaves a trail of wet kisses along your sweaty skin, tracing his tongue along the marks he left earlier.

“You’re mine,” he groans against your skin. “Been dying to say this for so fucking long.”

You gasp at his words, your body jerking when he slips his hand down to circle around your swollen clit. “‘M yours,” you whine, “Fuck me like I’m yours. Please—”

Hyunjin groans, your words igniting a fire within him, and his hips fall into a ruthless pace, pistoning his cock into you while his fingertips expertly stroke your clit. The hot coil of desire in your stomach tightens, finally breaking as your climax surges through every fiber of your being, a million stars bursting behind your eyelids.

“Fuck, you always feel so good,” Hyunjin rasps out, his movements shifting into a messy tempo. “Gonna fill you up, okay?”

You nod with a whimper, your overstimulated cunt clenching around his cock as his thrusts remain unrelenting. With a low grunt that ripples through his chest, Hyunjin’s hips slam into yours, his cock twitching and his grip on your throat tightening. He paints your insides with a final testament that you were his.

He stills on top of you, pressing featherlight kisses to your cheeks and lips, his cock softening inside of you as you stay that way for a while. When he pulls out, his fingers promptly smear his cum over your cunt as it leaks out, two digits thrusting his release back into you with a contented hum.

“Can we still fuck now that I found something better?” You ask him with a grin, and he laughs, burying his head in your neck.

Your mind is wholly clouded with bliss — both from your orgasm and the feeling of love that courses through your veins. You inwardly laugh. Hyunjin fucking you in your bedroom had definitely not tainted it. He had basically transformed your bed into a sanctuary.

Hyunjin helps you shower, gentle hands wash and caress your body before coaxing your third orgasm out of you under the soothing cascading water. He makes you a cup of your favorite tea the way you love it — which he made sure to memorize — and insists you two finish watching the forgotten movie before going to bed. It feels awfully domestic, and it would be a lie to say you hated it.

That night, you fall asleep beside Hyunjin in your bed for the first time; inside a little sacred space you are slowly building with him.

It was never your intention to be his. You were certain Hyunjin was the type of man who would never allow himself to be vulnerable, to truly fall in love with someone without his ego getting in the way. By keeping him at arm’s length, you believed you were guarding yourself from inevitable heartache.

Behind his cocky smirks and self-assured words, an amazing man hid himself out of deep-seated fears of rejection, unworthiness, and not being loved for his true self. Each day, he allowed glimpses of himself to shine through the cracks in his fortress. He became an enigma you were dying to unravel because you knew he was worth it.

Because you knew him.

And unbeknownst to you, Hyunjin has been yours all along. From the moment you walked into his apartment with a scowl and frustration-filled words, it was as if his heart became wired to crave you. He was simply hoping and waiting for you to become his as well.

♡ taglist: @bloom-ings, @linocz, @farahia, @mirbokk, @jisunglyricist, @jazziwritesthings, @seungseung-minmin, @yourcvndx, @hynjinnnnnnnie, @vlctorriaa, @yongbokkiesworld, @kiensecent, @redstayrosie, @wormieieie, @soonie1010, @dessianna1, @minimin1993, @idontlikecoffeeortea, @ashleighland, @oddracha, @sushiinmidnight, @lailac13, @badmaeda, @hynjinniesworld, @iheartjazz444, @cypher-girlx, @isagerada, @leviathanlee26, @sailor--sun, @binniesbabygirl

[mxjackparker]

People who do online sex work (like Onlyfans or camming) who specifically talk shit about prostitutes from the perspective that they think it's too intimate to fuck strangers are so weird to me. Are we tainted by physical touch, whilst far more people viewing them fuck is fine?

Online-only workers might be above us hookers in the whorearchy, but people still hate them for being sex workers. Solidarity would do them some good.

[i-cant-sing]

Pinterest is my fav app, so heres a few pics that reminded me of my ocs:

Dr Eros and reader, and he's such a gentle bf who wants to help u with everything and anything, no matter how tired he is.

Theodore pulling reader on his lap (after quickly closing the tab that had surveillance cam footage of her room/apartment) and now chilling playing silly little games🥰

Magnus and reader he worships (what u thought was a romantic gesture was actually just Magnus putting an ankle monitor on you because he can't risk u running away and his cult chasing you and hurting you again.)

Dimitri catching reader escaping once again, and sure he laughed at first, because you're just absolutely adorable all out of breath, but then he saw you had hurt your feet from running barefoot and now he's not chuckling anymore because how dare you hurt yourself??? Don't you know that you don't even belong to yourself? Stop. Moving.

Halim and reader sitting in his big haveli (where all of his family loves together), and now Halim is finally at peace because he's finally married you (after you literally ran away and his family had to chase you for a whole year and drag you back to him because no one makes the youngest Shah- the baby of the family sad).

It's giving Lucifer taking care of reader in hell after she unalived herself because one of his demons tortured her and she's too naive and thinks that only Lucifer could lover her "tainted and impure" self.

Mehmet and reader walking home as she tells him about how all her problems just mysteriously resolved on their own (Mehmet literally spent the past 2 days making sure all your problems were personally taken care of, including the creep from the bus stand who used to stare at you too much- well, now he's blind. God works in mysterious ways)

[starboye]

reader showing up to rafes party late but then asking topper where rafe is and he says hes upstairs so reader walks into rafe fucking another man cause he thought that was the reader (hes on drugs)

it wasn't your fault you forgot what time it was it was just really hard to find an outfit to where so you took a little minute (more like a little hour) to get to the party

once you got that you searched the whole place for rafe but couldn't find him so you approached toppper who seemed to always have an eye on the man when you weren't around

"hey top"

"look who finally showed up, wassup"

"do you know where rafe went"

"yeah to his room high as hell"

and with that you were walking up to his room but as you got closer you heard the faint sounds of creaking and moaning, was this mother fucker really cheating on you so you burst into the room to see rafe plowing the ass of some random dude

"rafe!!!"

"i know y/n just one more minute m'so close"

"rafe cameron!!!"

"and you fucking cunt can get out"

you ordered the dude out and he went knowing full well you'd drag him out if he didn't, you turned rafe to face you, his eyes droopy and worn out like he'd been partying to hard

"hey who the fuck are yo-"

"y/n? wait so then who was i fucking"

"wait was i fucking some random guy"

all the thoughts cam flooding in at once and you quickly realized rafe was to high to even realize he was fucking someone else and you were cracking up laughing at it to the dismay of a still high yet embaressed rafe

"well i still need to get off"

"ew no your dick was in some other hole"

rafe was now unable to cum after fucking the whore of a guy for like an hour, you were just hoping for his sake the he doesn't come back for more or you'll kill him, but for now lets get your high boyfriend in the shower to wash off his tainted dick.

[kitwalker02]

When Time Means Nothing

Joe Goldberg x Reader

Warnings: It's Joe Goldberg so obviously kidnapping stuff, drug use, injury, masturbation, literally wanting this man to break every bone in my body

Summary: Takes place in that three hour time gap when Joe went to get moonjuice while on acid. He gets a sudden urgency to begin his life with you and is willing to do whatever it takes…after all, broken bones heal quicker than broken hearts.

You wanted to trust Joe Goldberg.

You fell for him the moment you saw him, but you would be lying if you said his life was an open book, that he had no secrets.

You loved him but it would be a lie to say that you trusted him.

First, you found the keys. Then it was the storage room.

And then you found the cage.

But the worst of it was the cage wasn’t empty. A bed was inside, a desk, books, souvenirs...used tampons. It had been lived in and was ready to be lived in once more.

You could only wonder how you were ever going to face Joe again.

Unfortunately, you wouldn’t have to wonder for very long. Joe had his own suspicions of you and caught onto your snooping quickly, following you to the storage unit. Damn, nanny cams.

“Don’t say anything. Don’t look at anything. Just…come here.”

But it was all too little too late. Something grave and unspoken passed between your shared terrified gaze…you knew something now that you could never unlearn.

Now it was up to Joe to be able to trust you or kill you trying.

He took your phone and held your hand, backing you into the oversized glass box, whispering empty promises the entire time of coming back for you, trusting you…loving you.

Not even twelve hours later, he was cuffing you to a table with a sure plan of escape. One that, within the next sixteen hours, involved never seeing you again.

You were left alone and abandoned, your heart was heavy with rejection and your wrist was raw from tugging at the time-sensitive handcuffs.

“There is no self override.”

You rolled your eyes remembering Joe’s words, finally halting your movements. Glancing at the timer on the cuffs, you saw that there was less time ahead of you than there was behind. Who knew what that meant for Joe Goldberg and where he was at by this point?

He hadn’t believed you when you tried to convince him that you were different. That you loved him and that this recent dark discovery did nothing to taint the perfectly imperfect way in which you saw him.

Well, of course, Joe didn’t believe you. Why would he? He had caught you snooping after all.

Desperately wanting to ease your lonely heart, you thought back to your final interaction with Joe. You didn’t see the harm in attempting to entertain yourself due to the current circumstances and, with just a pang of guilt, you slipped a hand between your thighs, thinking back to the way Joe had looked down at you as he explained the cuffs. His expression and tone were so condescending, a defense mechanism he had used with you before instead of getting emotional. In your mind’s eye, it all further ignited the fire in your lower belly, remembering the way he crouched in front of you and grasped your wrist. Tightening the cuff you had put so gently on yourself. His calloused fingers were wrapped so firmly around your wrist, the veins in his forearm prominent as the grip of the cuff became almost bruising.

With your eyes closed, you could still feel his grip, the heat of his body so close to your own and his warm breath rafting over your face…

Suddenly the garage door was opened.

You ripped your hand from under your skirt as the screech and slam of the door being forced up brought you right back to your less-than-ideal present.

That was until you saw him…

Your heart started pounding, you easily recognized Joe as he stumbled into the storage unit, clumsily pulling the door shut and almost falling to the concrete floor from the force of it.

“Joe?”

You called out to him, but he didn’t seem to hear you as he pushed a few curly strands of hair out of his face that had fallen in his struggle.

You tried again, “Joe! What are you doing here?”

You struggled against your restraint as Joe began to approach you. His steps were slow and uncalculated, and he watched you through unfocused eyes, mouth slightly agape as he concentrated on getting one foot in front of the other.

“I thought you were leaving…” You reached your hand up to him and Joe grasped it weakly, stumbling into a crouch before you. He shook his head slowly, breathing somewhat heavily. You smiled at that, but your grin quickly fell when you noticed something in his hand and you couldn’t help but flinch when Joe brought a large white flower between your faces. He held it so close that the dainty white petals grazed the tips of your noses.

“I couldn’t stay away.” It was a struggle for him to get the short sentence out and you furrowed your brows at his slurred words and dilated pupils. “Joe…are you fucking high?”

Staring at you in disbelief, Joe shook his head roughly. “What? No!... Yes, but-“ He shuffled closer, ignoring the disapproving look on your face.

“Listen….You.” He said, dropping his voice a few octaves as he spoke the last word. He brought the flower closer to you, tucking it behind your ear with clumsy fingers. “I can’t stop thinking about you. I want a life with you.”

You didn’t answer right away. You couldn’t. Your heart swelled at the confession. That was all you could ever want. But Joe took your silence as a bad sign and his face dropped. “Do you want that with me?”

You didn’t even try to stop the huge grin from splitting your features. Tangling your fist into the soft tendrils of hair that rested at the base of Joe’s skull, you tugged him forward for a messy kiss, that was borderline painful as your teeth clanked in your eagerness.

Joe barely reacted, not quite registering your lips on his until you pulled away. You placed another wet kiss on his cheek before resting your head on his shoulder, your hand leaving the back of his head to instead wrap around his shoulders. You clutched at the dark dress shirt he wore, holding him to you in a tight embrace.

“I want that more than anything, Joe.”

Slowly, Joe’s warm hands came to rest on your back, the gentle action brought your body that much closer to his and you could feel his heartbeat in his chest against your own. Your hearts were in sync.

Just as you began to relax for the first time since you wandered into here, Joe abruptly tore himself from your embrace, instead slamming his hands down onto your shoulders, holding you roughly. “We have to get you out of here. Now.” He told you urgently, his eyes were wide, panicked.

You were taken aback by his sudden outburst and frowned at Joe. “Well, that’s great and all but we still have another-“ glancing down at the little red numbers ticking away on the cuffs, you released a sigh, “six hours.”

“Fuck that.” Joe scoffed, bringing his forehead to rest against your own. “Time means nothing when you’re in love.” He had to cross his eyes to maintain eye contact with you and you couldn’t help but smile at how innocent he looked in that moment.

“Okay then, Romeo. Did you get a key or something? Because you said it yourself, there is no overriding the system, remember?”

Rolling his eyes at your lack of imagination, Joe moved his hands to grasp the forearm of your trapped hand. “No. No, key.” He slurred softly, eyes not entirely focused as he stared at your wrist a little too hard, trailing one hand down to intertwine his fingers with your own. “But I know a little trick.” He looked up at you with a toothy grin, closing his right eye awkwardly in what you assumed was supposed to be a wink but came off as something of a twitch or a really slow, one-eyed blink.

“What trick?” You asked hesitantly, looking at him confused.

Joe cleared his throat dramatically, obviously excited by your question as he tightened his hold on you and shifted himself closer. “Well, I read…somewhere…once, that if you break your thumb you can slip the cuff right off.”

Your eyes widened in horror. He wouldn’t-  “That is so…cool, but we aren’t going to do that, right? I mean, what is six hours in the grand scheme of things?”

Tsking at your reluctance to trust him, Joe shook a finger at you before grasping your thumb in a fist. “That is where you are wrong. A lot can go down in six hours.”

You tried to pull out of Joe’s hold, but between the handcuff keeping you to the table and Joe’s tight grip, you didn’t get very far. “Woah, woah, woah. This is a terrible idea! I mean, you’re not even sober right now, Joe! And besides…it’s going to hurt like a bitch!”

Staring up at you through glassy eyes, Joe addressed you seriously. “I know it’s going to hurt but, you have to trust me, I have never been more clear-headed in my entire life. And besides-“ A sudden desperation washed over Joe’s features and your heart went out to his unexpected display of vulnerability, “it’ll hurt a lot less than dying. I’ve got blood on my hands, Y/N, and I’m not going to lose you too. I won’t lose you.” Your free hand came up to caress his cheek in an attempt to comfort him. “I’m not going anywhere, Joe Goldberg.” Taking in a shaky breath, you swallowed hard. “And…I do trust you.”

Releasing a relieved sigh, Joe gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. “You can scream as loud as you want.” He informed you, gesturing around the room. “I made sure the walls were soundproof.” You gave him a nervous smile, not wanting to think about why that was something he thought of. “How thoughtful of you.”

“And I’ll be quick.” He continued, making two quick clicks with his tongue. “In and out.” You honestly wished he’d shut up already. You swore he’d said more in the last ten minutes than in the entire time you’ve known him and every word he said did less and less to ease your anxiety.

“On three?” Joe asked, waiting for your nod of approval. He instructed you to take a deep breath with him before turning what was left of his attention to your hand. “One…” You leaned your head onto his shoulder, holding onto him tightly and doing your best to relax your hand within his own. “Two..” You bit down on your lower lip, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to prepare yourself for what was to come when a sudden hot pain shot through your hand, setting your bones on fire. You couldn’t stop the scream of agony and surprise that tore through your throat.

“God damn it, Joe!” You shouted, making him flinch. “You didn’t say three!”

But Joe ignored you, saying nothing as he hurried to guide your hand out of the cuff. You yelped when the metal accidentally grazed your now dislocated joint. You buried your face further into the crook of Joe’s neck not being able to stop the hot tears as he wrapped his fist around your thumb once more before jerking your finger up. Your jaw dropped at the resounding pop it made as your thumb slipped back into its socket.

Joe supported your now injured hand in his own as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling your shaking figure into a tight embrace.

“It’s done. And you’re safe just like I promised.”

You sniffled, rubbing your tear-stained face into his dress shirt as you clutched his back, returning the embrace. You couldn’t help but be impressed with how efficient Joe had been with the whole thing but you were never going to tell him that, opting to be pissed off about the entire situation.

“Let’s, please, just get the fuck out of here. I think I need an ice pack.”

Joe gently pulled you off of him so he could look into your eyes, bringing a hand up to caress your quivering jaw as tears continued to roll down your cheeks.

“We are going to get the fuck out of here…forever, but first, there’s this script I need to finish.” Your eyes widened in bewilderment. What was he on about now?

Joe shook his head when your frown deepened at his words. “No, no, no. Listen! It’s going to be great…and the best part is, you won’t be in the sequel.”

[henry7931]

Head Swap Short: My Dad’s Body At The Pool

Trevor:

God this is embarrassing! I just know all of my friends are going to make fun of me.

I broke my leg about a week ago and I’ve been in bed for days now. I felt like I was going to miss most of the summer.

All of my friends texted me about coming to the pool today and I knew I had no way to go with the current state of my leg.

That’s when my dad stopped by my room and asked me how I was doing. I told him how bummed I am about being to go hang with my friends. That’s when offered to do a head swap with me.

Dad packed me a bag, we swapped heads, and I hurried to the pool.

As I started driving down the road, it felt kinda cool having my dad’s body on. He taller than me and pretty strong.

When I got to the pool, I headed to the locker room and started opening up the bag dad packed. I looked inside and saw only a freaking towel and a speedo!!!

But I’ve already made it this far, I looked around the locker room and saw that no one was around.

I pulled off my dad’s shorts only for his massive dick to come flopping out.

“Oh god! Everyone’s going to see his bulge.”

When I got outside I saw my friends… I took a deep breath and walked over confidently in my dad’s body.

“Holy crap Trevor! Is that your dad’s body?” said my friend Phillip.

“Yeah, it was the only way I could come.”

A couple of the guys laughed about the speedo for a little bit. But all around they thought it was kinda cool that I had my dad’s body on.

Even one of my friends Cameron told me he thought my dad was a dilf.

I’ve had a thing for Cameron for a while now but he’s never shown interest in me (at least until now). He even asked what I was doing after the pool. We ended up getting food after and went back to his house to hang.

We went up stairs and he started flirting with me hard.

“Bro, I don’t mean to be weird but it’s so hot seeing your cute head on top of your dad’s beefy bod.”

“You think haha,” I say back to him.

“Yeah man, I wouldn’t mind seeing it again all undressed,” he says winking at me.

I blushed and said, “I guess I can show it off again.”

I pulled off my dad’s shirt and shorts, all the way down to his underwear.

“Damn…” he says to me.

We go to his parent’s guess bedroom and I hop on top of the bed.

“Trev, I’m so turned on right now. I don’t know how to ask you this but could I rub your dad’s body over?”

“Sure man!”

Cameron goes down to my dad’s big feet and starts rubbing them. It feels pretty good, I guess my dad’s hasn’t had anyone rub his feet in awhile.

All of the sudden, Cam does something that surprised me. He starts licking my dad’s feet.

I watched him be enthralled with them. It was so hot seeing a hot guy my age be so into something I’d never expect.

Cam, crawls up to my dad’s crotch and starts rubbing his inner thighs. I’m surprised that he hasn’t just gone for my dad’s junk yet.

My father’s dick is completely hard and leaking on his underwear.

Cam reaches up and twists my dad’s nipple which made me squeak a bit.

I’ve looks right at my dad’s crotch and back up at me— like he’s taking for my permission.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about it, I knew this wasn’t a boundary I was going to be able to come back from.

I nodded my head and Cameron pulled my dad’s briefs off. My father’s 11 inch hairy dick was now in my crushes hands.

He fondled dad’s big hairy balls and planted his noise right into dad’s taint.

He kisses his cock head a couple of times before he forced dad’s dick down his throat.

I ran dad’s hands through Cam’s curly brown hair while he gave me the best blow job ever.

Cam ran his free hand all over dad’s body, I was coming close.

“Cam I’m about to cum!”

Cam takes all of my dad’s load down his throat.

He says to me, “I want you to jerk me off with your dad’s big manly feet.”

I giggled and said, “okay!”

I used dad’s feet to stroke cam’s 8 inch dick listening to him moan. Cams feet were positioned right near me to touch. I rubbed them and while watching Cam get so much pleasure from a foot job.

Cam let out one last scream of a moan as he squirted all over my dad’s feet.

I watched him lick every inch of cum off of them.

He crawled up to me and we laid in bed together while I cuddled him.

“So are you bringing your dad’s body to the pool tomorrow?”

I grinned at him, “Now I am!”

[lnbeep-art]

"A favor for a favor."

It is the Year of the Snake, which means Cam gets some love and attention before the month of MerMay for once... In this house we love an enemies to lovers dynamic, even if only Ari sees him as an enemy. Cam's just the trickster who likes the attention, negative or positive. Doesn't matter when he thinks he's in control of a situation.

Bonus little short story in the "Read More" below! Lots of lore building for the world, size stuff in the halfway mark. Consider it a companion piece to this.

TLDR: Ari finds a way to wound primordials and gods, but at the cost of it cursing him. Cameron offers to help alleviate it at no expense, just because he likes him.

Ari’s arm had morphed into a black and stinging limb, spreading farther and farther toward his chest. How much longer before the curse would claim his heart? 

Time and time again he’d tried to rid the curse, but not even his half-divine blood empowered his magic enough to extract it. He considered himself a relatively competent healer, and he had lifted quite a number of curses from others before during his wandering through the mortal realm. Was this curse simply out of his depth? A wall he’d slammed into in his current ability level?

Ari clicked his tongue, dropped his unmarred hand, and let the pink magic in his palm fade. 

No, he thought and grimaced. The curse just didn’t want to leave. Just like that other presence that haunted the recesses of his mind, waiting to make due on the mark bitten in his skin. 

Pulling his sleeve down, Ari sighed, then mussed up his bangs in frustration. When he glimpsed his reflection in the mirror, he saw it again; the golden twin snake tattoo on his shoulder. Surprisingly, it was not the same shoulder which bore his curse, although he would have been remiss to ignore he had two arms where marks miraculously tainted them. When he’d first received the snake tattoo, his skin had been raised and irritated. Now, it blended in like any of the other golden decals he’d paint on his body. At times, however, the mark would glitter as if brimming with the sun god’s light itself. 

A few robes and overcoats were all Ari required to hide the blight. The challenge came instead when he’d returned to the Summer Court. Like bloodhounds, the High Order of Summer Elves’  long-lived lives could detect primordial stench on him. “It was just a product of seeing the Luck Devourer face to face,” Ari had reassured them at the time. He was a being born from the gods themselves, the first of their kind. Of course his comparative power and essence would linger on Ari, especially when he’d had his claws on him. A split moment was all it took. 

That explanation allayed their suspicions, and he’d had no further questions since. This time? They might unearth the secret faster unless he vanquished Cameron himself. Until then, Ari would not allow the order to relieve him of this duty.

“You’re welcome to try smiting me as many times as you like,” Cameron’s words echoed. “I’m sure you’re itching to cover up this blunder of yours, aren’t you? Same time next week then?”

Ari growled under his breath and clenched his good hand. Arrogant bastard. Why couldn’t he have just stayed smote? 

Several sunrises had passed since Ari’s visit to Zahn and the Solona Ocean depths, pushing ahead on the rumors of Cameron’s whereabouts. The primordial had spoken as if he knew Ari’s return was immediate, but Ari refused the serpent that satisfaction. Why? Let him stew. Exchanging words was no greeting Ari wanted to partake in, but his twin sabers would be the best “hello” he could give. One for the primordial’s tongue, the other to carve off his shoulder’s mark with his own blade. 

It had likely vexed Cameron—the fact of how long Ari had waited to cross his shores again—and the thought delighted him at least a bit. However, that was not his sole motive; some of the mortal realm’s regions had the best libraries known across the realms, holding ancient wisdom from the war. Accounts of those who had managed to slay lesser monsters, and stories of champions who had felled ones even greater than Cameron. Knowledge like that was often difficult to come by, if only not to disrupt the current balance of their post-war world.   

Yet if he read between the lines long enough, a method would reveal itself to him. He had to find it. How many centuries had elapsed of Cameron spiriting away interesting finds, transforming them into nymphs to belong to his underwater dominion? The Order of Elves had failed to wrangle him in, and they were eager to repay the torment he’d enacted over time. It had been the gods’ mistake to leave Cameron surfing through mortal waters, unbidden and uninhibited. More would see injury in the reign of his whims.

Their greatest question had always been Cameron’s aim. In their lengthy diatribes, the oldest elves on the order stated primordial beings’ actions were devoid of reason; they took because they wanted, and they intended to keep whatever they possessed. Cameron’s kinship to dragons meant, of all the discorded primordial beings left to walk among the realms, coveting and hoarding burned stronger within him. Maybe he felt he deserved what he took because the pantheon had given his kind the shorter stick. It was why the Order found his greed insatiable. 

Eldritch horrors, primordial beings—they went beyond mortal reason. Cameron’s true form should have been incomprehensible, yet the Luck Devourer’s features were instead easy on the eyes. “Beautiful,” as many stories depicted him. And it was that beauty that Cameron lured in to surround himself with. He had created sirens from his desires to roam the seas. That was one interest most recorded of Cameron; what other reasons he had to act with the freedom he pleased was lost on Ari. Truly as mysterious and deep as the Solona Ocean itself.

When he’d laid on the shore of Zahn’s capital, Rimerock—spit out by Cameron’s promise and left to catch his breath—he’d been struck with the wonder: what side did he fall on? Was he of interest to Cameron because he was beautiful, or because he amused him? The curiosity had vanished just as quickly. After all, it wouldn’t change the mark Cameron etched on him. And with how vibrant the color was against his skin, pulsing intermittently, he certainly hadn’t forgotten Ari either. Unfortunately. 

He had no intention of becoming another item on the Luck Devourer’s lengthy menu, and he would not allow a mark he could not remove, nor a curse that refused to lift, to best him. There must have been a detail they’d yet learned, Ari told himself. A clue from the unturned stones. 

That was when he’d found it. A spell which enhanced the sword, cutting not bone and marrow, but what mattered to any divine being. Their essence. To kill a god, you killed not the god itself but the many threads of belief tethering them to the realms. And since Cameron thought himself one, the same method would work just as well.

What felt like molten fire surged through his arm and Ari winced, clutching it. Was this his punishment because he’d ignored Cameron’s call? Times like these, Ari almost wished he had not vowed to be his own battery. Mother Nature’s blood was his own, which allowed Ari to use his own power to supplicate his cleric needs. A half breed, Cameron had called him. 

I’ll show you ‘half breed,’ you snake. 

The ratta-tatt of knuckles wrapping against his personal chamber’s door distracted him. Ari’s long ears twitched, and after adjusting the billowing sleeves a second time, he answered, “Come in.” 

The sound of nails clicked against the tile floor, and Ari caught a flash of pink and white wings in the mirror. Varys? he thought. What was the messenger of love visiting him for? It wasn’t that the two were unfriendly—hard to dislike Varys when he was his sister’s confidant. But love did not stop, so Ari and Varys rarely spent leisure time together. 

“I thought you might still be here,” Varys said, and as he spoke, his gaze snagged on Ari’s arm. Instinctively, Ari tensed, which only made Varys sigh. “I wasn’t going to say anything since your business isn’t my business, but I can smell the stench of that as far as the palace gates. It’s getting worse, isn’t it?”

“How long have you known?”

A tired expression darkened Varys’ features. He snorted. “I know that it’s newer than the other trinket you have on you.” Varys tapped his own shoulder, the one that mirrored Ari’s primordial eyesore. “But you probably didn’t think I knew about that either.”

The archangel rank Varys held slipped Ari’s mind at times. The man often took the form of a werefox human instead of that of an angel, wielding digitigrade paws; furred, clawed hands; pink paw pads the color of blush; and the ears and tail of a fox, always alert. With the many tales mortals spread about Ivory and her herald of love, Varys had always said he’d play into the role of vixen. It seemed he quietly enjoyed it too. Ari thought it suited him. 

However, Varys was less keen to display his angelic lineage. Sometimes he brandished his wings in full view, and other times he hid them. Yet whether they were visible to the eye or not did not erase the angel in him. If anyone could sense evil on another, it would have been a holier being like Varys. And it had been Ari’s mistake in thinking he would stay completely under the radar. Had Ivory not noticed either? Unless she’d specifically asked Varys to pay Ari a visit, as was always the case for his equally busy sister. 

Ah, Ari thought. Varys’ visit made sense now. 

Ari turned to his work desk, clearing off the notebooks with their half-turned pages. He’d already demolished four of them in the past week, all filled with scrawls and his condensed versions of raving madmen, who believed they held the key to erasing divine creatures’ existence entirely. He scowled down at the notebook—how the light red cover became more stark under his pitch black hand. “I’m handling it,” he said. 

Varys crossed his arms. “Are you?”

“I will be. It’s his work, isn’t it?” As Ari spun to look at Varys, he paused at the way Varys’ brows furrowed. “...can you not tell?” 

Varys hesitated. “It’s old—I know that much. But it doesn’t exactly work like that, Ari. I’d have to know the caster well to know that it’s their magic.” He pointed a claw at Ari’s arm. “And both are relatively the same age, so the nature of your curse is foreign to me. …Have you thought of asking Cordelia about it?”

Ari’s mouth ticked downward. No matter if he was a son to Mother Nature or not, he would not burden the goddess with trivial problems he could solve on his own. It was the same reason he hadn’t sought out Ivory. “No need,” Ari said, his hand clasping the notebook and then the satchel hanging off the desk’s corner edge. He slung the strap across his shoulders and tucked the notebook inside. “I’ll be taking a short trip to Zahn. Ask the nymphs to prepare the Gate for me.”

Although Varys’ gaze needled his back, he didn’t bother blocking Ari’s exit at least. Slid away from it, in fact. “And what will you tell your court?”

Ari glared at the twin snakes on his left shoulder. “I have nothing to say to them until I’ve finished what I started.” Once he reached the Gate, he would ferry himself across the realms. If that monster wanted his visit, then he would have it. 

… 

… 

…

…

The midday sun captivated Zahn in its amber hue and sparkled like fairy lights across the horizon, the capital of Rimerock especially. Saltwater and ocean spray left a refreshing sea flavor in the air. As both a mineral city and vast trading port hub, Zahn’s nation thrived beside the great Solona Ocean. It was one of the most prosperous nations the mortal realm had to offer.

Yet neither trading ports nor the mountain peaks interested Ari. Instead, he stayed the course until he reached Zahn’s coastal edges, where the gap of water between Solona Ocean and the Blue Tides was tightest. Here, ships and creatures and scores of people had been aptly devoured, either to reappear in another region, or plane, entirely—or to never be heard from again. No mortal dared test the waters during a thunderstorm. 

Maybe this space of water had another name once. Now, it was known only as The Swallows.

Below the rocks, the rapids swirled and swirled to form a vicious, hungry whirlpool, one whose radius spanned as wide as a small village. The last time Ari visited, he’d been armed with a boat and first-timer’s bravado. He almost missed that naivety. Now he had a broken promise on one arm, and a time limit on the other. 

Light caught his periphery; the snake mark, brighter now as he stood at the water’s precipice, vibrated against Ari’s skin. When he retreated a few steps, the glow dimmed. Ari scowled at it before turning his gaze toward Rimerock again. Like newborn infants, the waves beside the docks cradled the boat’s tiny shapes. People were lucky to return intact at all, much less with their boat accompanying them. Surely no one could complain about a lost boat when they knew the risk they lived beside.

Ari took a single step toward the docks when a voice, coming distinctly from his left side, whispered at him. “Jump,” it said.

He froze. In spite of the region’s warm air, a chill accosted him from the top of his neck all the way down, tracing his spine. It was how he would have imagined Cameron’s claws raking his back if given the opportunity. 

More voices compounded upon the first, coupled with a mounting pressure in his cursed arm. Ari grit his teeth against the pain.

“Jump jump jump jump!” 

“Blessed child of the Fey.”

“Champion!” 

“Trust the process. Give yourself to the ocean, and it will guide you.” 

“Surrender!”

“Down down down!”

Hissing, Ari covered his ears. Had he finally lost it? The path he’d chosen specifically avoided any sirens’ games, but perhaps he had made a mistake. Sirens did not stray far from Cameron, because he loved them so, but not a single tail or melody carried over the waters. Now that the voices had quietened, only Ari in his silence remained, and the roaring whirlpool in front. That vortex could have easily wasted twenty ships alone. 

The water rolled closer, lapping the shoreline.

This was insane—he shouldn’t consider this. Not when it was undoubtedly another of Cameron’s tricks coaxing him to his demise. While the primordial released him initially, nowhere did that suggest he’d be as kind the next. So was this what Cameron wanted? For Ari to drown? Willingly? 

Ari squeezed his hands into fists, head inclined as he scorned The Swallows. His magic begged for release—spiked through him as a reminder not to forget what he possessed. Finally, Ari touched his throat and closed his eyes. 

Expand. 

His lungs ballooned with a thin layer of magical film, and three slices of the same pink glow cut across the sides of his neck. The first encounter with Cameron happened so hastily that Ari hadn’t enchanted an aquatic blessing unto himself before. Now, if circumstances necessitated he return home, the risk of drowning when he spoke was minimized. 

“Fine,” Ari said, the word a hiss between his teeth. “But I’ll make this your mistake.”

He plunged. 

When he resurfaced, arms akimbo and keeping him afloat, the current drew him toward the whirlpool. It was slow at first—taunting—until it yanked him. Ari’s heartbeat jumped like the waves. Why were the currents not taking him on a spin cycle? Rather, his body cut straight through, the single path available being the beeline toward The Swallows’ epicenter. And only a void greeted him at the end of that long, twisting cyclone. 

The voice returned in his right ear, deeper in its inflection this time—and steadier. Almost a tiger’s growl in his ear. “Closer.” 

It didn’t sound like how he remembered Cameron’s voice. What in the world was that? 

Once Ari reached the center, his body plummeted no differently than a ship torn apart by the waves. His yells became trapped in the bubbles flying from his mouth. The magical slits along his neck opened, extracting oxygen from the ocean and circulating it into his body. It was what allowed him to open his eyes sooner.  

Underwater, Mother Nature had dropped her bucket of paint to smear color that the surface’s sunlight could still capture. Except the color came not from an artisan’s tools, but scales. Fish—fish as far as the eye could see; eels, tuna, bass, mackerel, blue sharks. Yet none dared approach the cyclone containing him. He swore he saw a green light glint off of their scales too, but it could have been caused by his shoulder. The snake tattoo’s light had become so intense the farther he fell that it was the only light possible to see the fish. No natural sunlight could penetrate the depths of The Swallows. 

Had seconds passed? Minutes? Hours? His descent some several hundreds of feet below sea level pressed on, and eventually, the tendrils of light on Ari’s shoulder lost the fight against the ocean’s darkness. Even when he knew he’d thrust his hand outward, his fingers remained invisible to his eyes. It was only a matter of time before every bit of his senses faded.

However, Ari caught a sight in the distance: two green spots, electrified by the flecks of yellow in them. Split by those slit pupils. Watching, and waiting. Sharp white fangs hung underneath those eyes in a curved shape.

“Found you,” the familiar voice sang in his head just before his consciousness cut short. 

Ari had actually jumped. The audacious elven prince had actually done it. 

If a naga could be on the edge of their seat, Cameron had mastered the balancing act while his attentions were otherwise trained on Ari. He needed no mind-reading tricks to know Ari hated every bit of the decision—the prince’s frame had been riddled with tension and barely restrained frustration as he stood over Rimerock’s coast. In that state, he appeared so easy to ruffle—how could Cameron resist poking him? After all, what better game was there to play than the game of chicken? 

Yet life could still give Cameron surprises, apparently, as he’d watched the elven prince dive feet first into the waters. Cracking that stubborn self-respect Ari held impressed him enough to greet the elf personally. Not many held the honor. 

His uncoiled tail stretched on for miles as he moved through the scattered sands, making treasure ship bottles and coinstacks rattle. Trinkets he had collected over the centuries, dating every age of progress the cycles underwent. It was no palace like the pantheon, but it was his home—this little demiplane tucked in the corner of the mortal realm’s bounds. 

And now, as he bore down on Ari, the delight of finally putting eyes on him again simmered. Cameron tilted his head. “That’s a shame,” he murmured, eyeing Ari’s right arm. “Seems someone else got to you before I could, hmm?” 

Their time apart had created idle hands out of Ari, and during the absence, the elven prince had poked his nose where it did not belong. Old magic encased him, centralized in that blackened arm of his, and steadily tore through his essence. Cameron could taste it on the tip of his tongue—an acrid flavor, but all too familiar. Perhaps the prince assumed his half-divine blood would protect him, yet he failed to understand it only hastened the process.

Cameron had been so bored waiting for him, and when he finally returned, it was with a time limit on his life? Truly a travesty. At least the blessing he’d stamped onto Ari remained. He eyed it with a pleased hum.

Blessing of the trickster; that was what mortals called his snake tattoo when bound to him temporarily. The mark itself was fairly harmless, a way of saying Cameron had his eye on someone he liked well enough and had piqued his curiosity. It wouldn’t pain the wearer, and once Cameron stayed a permanent thought on their mind, he removed the mark and let nature take its course. If he wanted to become a god as well, belief in what he could give and accomplish was tantamount to his influence. He didn’t want to remain confined to Zahn alone. He wanted to travel the lands like the old days.

However, his blessing did come with a caveat. It was how Ari had found this new magic, but also where he had picked up his curse.

As his fingers encroached on the small figure, Ari immediately sprung to his feet like a jack-in-the-box. A bladed sickle appeared in the fey’s grasp and lanced forward. Cameron tutted, withdrawing and staring at fresh laceration where Ari had struck his fingers. 

“Straight to business as always, I see,” Cameron said. He pouted. “Really—after all this time, and not even a hello?” 

“What do you mean ‘someone else’ found me?” Ari demanded, keeping the blade level with Cameron. He backpedaled a few paces, glanced at the serpentine tail surrounding him, then slanted Cameron with an unamused glare. It must have been Ari’s default expression. “You won’t keep me here like the rest of your nymphs, Luck Devourer.” 

Cameron sighed and shook his head. The first words to come out of Ari’s mouth, and they were so vitriolic. Regardless, a smile curled on the corners of his lips. Ari had been silent as stone the first time they’d met, aside from when he’d cast his spell. He would take goading him to speak as an achievement. “You’ll come around.” 

Ari scoffed and jutted the scepter forward. “Talk. Or the next won’t let you staunch the bleeding.” 

Yes, Cameron thought; thanks to the time Ari had kept busy, he’d discovered some nasty tricks. Bleeding from a cut a mortal had inflicted had always been part of Cameron’s theatrics. It wouldn’t take long for him to wave his hand and dispel the wound with no blemish to find on his skin. That was the consequence of primordials, the gods had said—they made their first creations a little too powerful. 

Honestly? Cameron didn’t see the problem with it. What was the harm in having regenerative capabilities? They were a piece of the gods and titans that helped create them. Of course they should be entitled to that influence. And mortal beings only sought to attain the same power. Ironic, wasn’t it? If nothing else connected primordials and mortals, the color of their blood did—dark, red and vivid. 

This magic wasn’t nearly as humorous as Ari smiting him, but no matter. 

He turned his hand and fingers over, letting the trickle caress his arm too. Once enough time had passed, Cameron reversed the blood, sucking it back into the wound and closing the cut on his finger. When he turned back to Ari, his pupils thinned. Sweat had accumulated on Ari’s face, and though he tried to conceal it, his shoulders bobbed. He was panting. 

Cameron dropped his elbows on either side of the man and balanced his chin on his interlaced fingertips. “I can ease the burden you bear, you know. All you have to do is ask.”

“You mean the burden you put on me?” Ari rolled his shoulder, the one containing Cameron’s snakes, to better face him. “Don’t bother. I’ll do that myself when I cut out your lying tongue.” 

Cameron laughed. “I thought you were supposed to be the expert, love? All that research and you don’t know the difference between my mark and another’s?”

“Please. Spare me your lies, Luck Devourer. You leave this on my arm—” Ari tossed his hand toward his left shoulder “—and suddenly I’m magically cursed three and a half weeks later. I’m just supposed to believe that’s all a coincidence?” 

The elven man had wit, he would concede that. Most wouldn’t have drawn that conclusion. But he wasn’t wrong so much as he wasn’t right either. 

Cameron’s lips curled. Dropping one of his hands from his chin, he crept his fingers toward Ari. The gesture didn’t go unnoticed, however, as Ari sidestepped his hand, blade trained and poised to inflict another bite. 

“Do you think finding that research was coincidence too?” Cameron asked. “Equivalent exchange, my friend. Fate needs balance at some point, because the worst life can change for the better, while the opposite is true. The same applies for luck. Eventually you’ll run out of good luck, and all that’s left is the worst of it. Do you know that that is?” His voice fell to a whisper. “Karma.” 

Ari’s eyes widened and Cameron regarded him impassively. Karma was under Cameron’s eldest brother’s control, and no one wanted to gain Rayne’s ire—not even Cameron himself. A bitter reminder of how many leagues apart they were now that Rayne had ascended to control the storms and left behind his own kin, changing from primordial to the god of retribution. Cameron hated him for the loneliness it had brought. 

But perhaps the one memento Rayne had left had been the magical stopgap, preventing any divine beings from destroying primordials. Few gods wanted to reignite the Divisionary War—none such who hadn’t already been exiled, stripped of power, or banished to the outer realms.

Cameron had never been much invested in the war, finding it more fun to collect warriors, clerics, and warlocks who wished for something, or someone, to grant them powers. To take matters into their own hands and change. Was it really his fault if change meant both good and bad deeds? 

So, all of the gods had banded together to create a failsafe, one that would come at a cost. That was the exchange to end the war, and what led to Rayne’s ascension to begin with. The knowledge to kill a god’s essence was out there, but it was a race to the goalpost to reach it in time. 

And now Ari was cursed by that knowledge. All this because he couldn’t bother to visit sooner. If he’d stuck to simply smiting him, his good luck wouldn’t have soured nearly as quickly. 

Again, Cameron’s hand neared Ari, undeterred by the elf’s retreating footsteps. It wasn’t like he had very far to move—not with Cameron’s tail looped around the space. “It’s not my magic that’s eating away at you, little wanderer. As long as you carry that curse, you can’t even begin to make good on your promise,” Cameron said and smiled. “Unless you’ve given up trying to keep me out of the mortal planes? I surely hope not. You were just getting somewhere!” 

Ari clutched his head. “Stop talking.” 

Yet Cameron saw the thoughts churning behind Ari’s eyes in the way he stared at the ground. Risk. Each mortal, and demimortal, Cameron had crossed underwent the same weighing process. Were all of his words a lie? Or was there truth in them? Underestimating either side by even a hair could dramatically tip the scale. It made the tip of Cameron’s tail wiggle.

“My offer still stands,” Cameron added patiently. “Do so, and the curse won’t trouble you any longer.”

“And make it that much easier for you to put another one of your things on me like the last time?” Ari spat. “I’m not your fool to toy with, Cameron, and I’m not giving you another opportunity.” His hand glowed pink. “I’ll—”

All at once, Ari’s body seized up. The man dropped onto his knees, but despite his collapse, his black fist remained clutched on the handle of his scepter. Humming, Cameron leaned forward, close enough where his breath could tease strands of Ari’s brown hair. The sleeve covered a significant portion of Ari’s arm, but he noticed the nerves beneath the silk convulsed. It gave off the smell of soot and tar, markedly divine and twisted. 

For good measure, Ari took a swipe at Cameron, yet the blade did not connect. The one thing Cameron would not allow him to touch was his face. 

“You may have found the secret to wound me, but you’ll cut your own life short before you cut me,” Cameron said. “Why do you think you’ve been cursed? You could kill me, but you’re discovering it’s not so easy, aren’t you?”

“I’d rather die than accept your so-called ‘help.’”

“And yet you came to me, willingly, and chose this path for yourself! Make no mistake—I’m flattered, truly. But you didn’t have better things to do than put me on trial? That really hurts my feelings, you know. I’ve been minding my business.”

Ari growled quietly, and the sound of it made Cameron chuckle. The longer this went on, the greater his intrigue. Some of Ari’s peers were equally mouthy, but they’d crumbled faster under his ministrations. Ari, however, was stubborn. He might actually have let himself perish instead if it meant taking Cameron down with him.

Placing a claw-tipped finger against Ari’s blade, Cameron restricted him from lifting it a third time. He felt the blade twitch and wiggle under his nail from Ari’s effort to free it, then heard the slow-building sizzle the longer his nail touched. 

“Is your pride worth more than your life, Fey champion?” he asked softly, enough so that it made Ari’s ears twitch. He upturned his other hand’s palm to Ari and leaned over him. “Do you want it to end here and now when you’ve been the closest one of your circle?” Ari stared at him, and although he glared, shock belied those fiery pink eyes of his. Cameron tilted his head. “Did you think I didn’t know who you were, prince? I study all of my guests. The interesting ones anyway,” he added.

“Your tricks—”

“I speak only the truth this time.” The space around them shrunk bit by bit as Cameron added more coils to wrap around them. The shhff of sand carried across his entrance room. “I know my brother’s magic, well enough to know how to undo it too. Do you really wish to die with failure in your heart? That doesn’t seem befitting of the summer elves’ prince, wouldn’t you say?”

Those rose quartz eyes of Ari’s stayed locked on Cameron’s hand, distrustful and scathing. The only sound permeating the room then became that of sliding glass. Cameron’s zoetrope had shifted to display yet another realm of the fey. That didn’t matter now—he had the fey he’d been watching here with him now. No need to see Ari through a glass any longer. 

The tip of Cameron’s tail wiggled again when Ari reached his hand out, hesitated, then connected with one of the large fingers before him. His expression spoke nothing short of frustrated. Giving no room for second thoughts, Cameron slid his fingers underneath Ari’s body and into his palm, where he held him to his eyes. 

“A wise choice, love. Now let’s get this curse off, shall we? You’ll be untouched…mostly.”

“Don’t call me that,” Ari snapped. His gaze was transfixed by the dark wisps rising from out of his sleeve and into the air, coated in a green layer of mist that matched Cameron’s eyes. His heavy breaths slowed. “What do you mean ‘mostly’?”

“There’s more than just Rayne’s magic in this, I’m afraid! Such a thing happens when the whole of the pantheon wants to show off their skills.” Cameron hummed. “You’ll have to figure out the rest on your own. But at least you won’t die, so what’s there to sulk about?” He gingerly traced his nail against Ari’s head, stopping at his chin and tilting it to meet his gaze. “And I get to see more of this pretty face.” 

Although Ari shoved his finger away, the faintest hint of red stained his cheeks. “This doesn’t change anything else—know that.” 

Maybe not now, Cameron thought. But luck and fortune's favor were his specialties. 

[darlingdreadwrites]

cam 2

pairing: Edward Nashton x GN!Reader

part: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

summary: Edward has been watching you for a while – his obsession with you growing. When he spots you working at a bookstore, he almost forgets how to function.

contains: mentions of a shrine (a box with pictures of you), reader working at a bookstore, obsessed edward

warnings: mentions of masturbation, dub-con, stalking, use of religious imagery

word count: 2.2k

masterlist

a.n: if i continue this, it'll be with an afab reader but i wont specify a gender

Edward spent most of his nights watching you since he found your webcam feed. You had quickly become the best part of his day over the following weeks. You were there for him when he was at his lowest, and he found comfort in you. Not that you knew, of course. Edward would rather wring his own neck before he let you find out that he was watching you. You’d hate him for sure – call him a creep and alert the authorities. Even though the thought of being berated by you was just as tantalizing as the ones of you fully accepting and praising his depravity. But he couldn’t let himself destroy one of the most significant things of his life. And in the short amount of time that he’d “known” you, you were quickly climbing your way up to the top of his priorities. You have to pace yourself, he would remind himself, printing out yet another picture of you to keep safely in a box. That was yet another thing that filled Edward both peace and shame.

It hadn’t taken him long to find all the public information he needed to know about you. He had found a social media account of yours and he had to remind himself not to keep his jaw unhinged for too long. He already thought you were so beautiful – so perfect – naturally, but seeing you dolled up was doing devastating work to his self-control.

But Edward was a good boy - he would reassure you of that in his head every time he watched you. He fought to steer clear of anything that would scandalize you – you were too pure, too good for him to succumb to the temptations of his flesh. He kept his interactions and intentions as innocent as he could. I mean, could you really blame him though? He couldn’t exactly control it when your pretty face would flash in his mind at the wrong moment. Or if one of your pictures just happened to be close enough for him to see. But he would never choose to simply use you to pleasure himself – again.

Oh, how he hated himself on those nights. He’d be curled up in his bed afterward, kissing and crying over your stained picture until it tore apart in his trembling hands. He lovingly, reverently held it as a holy relic, his lips pressing to the image with desperate, silent apologies. Ink wasn’t too cheap – he’d have to be more careful with tainting your pretty pictures. At least he was grateful for having enough space on his computer to store hundreds more.

The chilly evening air had Edward tugging his worn jacket tighter around him. He had only moments ago clocked out of his dreary day job, the fluorescent lights burned yet in the back of his mind. His shoes splash through puddles as he passes the dingy rain-splattered windows. He urges his mind to stay confined to one thing while he passes people on the streets of Gotham: his next project.

The city was alive and less than welcoming, a breathing beast in all its grimy facades. A sheet of charcoal hung above, and only a few embers of dying sunlight were allowed to peak in. The sound of his breaths were swallowed by the persistent hum of the city – the distant wailing of a police sirens, the roaring traffic, and the murmurs of people with their heads hung low. His mind was a narrow tunnel, leading him to a local bookstore.

Focus, focus, focus, he reminds himself, trying desperately to shove away the image of your smile. The infectious kindness that shot like an electric current through the pixelated screen of your webcam feed. Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to dwell on you for too long; he had to get back to being serious – to be serious about his work as the Riddler. His life’s work would be at the forefront of his priorities, he hoped you didn’t take offense.

The bell above the door jingled as he steps inside and removes his glasses. Wiping them with his sleeve, he blindly made his way to the aisles containing books on poisonous plants. His pulse quickens as his eyes scan the shelves, not noting anything to be amiss. He was too engrossed in his search for texts that would aid in his obsessive need for justice – the kind only his attacks and puzzles could solve. But, from the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of movement behind a counter.

Edward’s chest tightens, each breath coming out shallow and strained. He was sure all the blood in his body rushed to his head, making it feel inflated and light. The frantic drumming of the blood pumping through his veins seemed to drown out the quiet tune playing from a dingy speaker overhead. A wave of nausea cruelly rolls through him as he takes in the sight of someone manning the cash register. You.

You, in your work uniform – a black blouse branded with the bookstore’s name and dark jeans. You, with your smile – one he thought he’d only ever see behind a screen. You, kindly helping an elderly woman in all your pure benevolence. His heart practically beats out of his chest when you lift your head, and that’s when he gets a harsh wake up call.

Panicking, Edward ducks behind a shelf, almost sending a pile of books to the ground before grabbing and steadying the rack. That was sure to get your attention, he knew it. You would walk over any second now and kick him out of the store.

“No, no, no,” he mumbles silently, a high-pitched whimper slipping through. “Not now, please.”

He fights the urge to flee, telling himself that it would look like he had stolen something – probably making him something unforgivable in your eyes. He silently prays until he realizes that… you don’t know who he is. You don’t know that he’s been watching you for some time. He sighs, a small, relieved smile spreading on his face. A sudden giddiness makes him almost dizzy. He was originally here for two books, but he thinks that he would only get a one-minute interaction at most. He wanted more of that – more of you.

Finally setting his eyes on the books he needed; Edward rushes to grab an unused basket on the floor. His hands shook, none of the titles were even registering in his mind, but he wasn’t in a state to be selective. He begins to stack a couple of books that he believes would help his research. Fingers twitched against the spines while he grabs at whatever is in front of him. He was blind, lovesick man in your presence – even if you were merely in the same building. The simple fact is that in just a few moments, he would make himself a part of your life beyond a screen. You didn’t know him, but he swore on all the goodness that he ever had in his miserable life that he loved you.

He cringes when he finally looks down at the basket and feels the heavy weight of it. It was a chaotic mountain that had him worrying about the cost of it all.  He promises himself that, if he can’t find use for them, he could return them. His smile stretches at the thought of seeing you again. He was getting ahead of himself; he had to get through meeting you now.

He approaches the counter with jerky steps, his knuckles turning white as he clutches the basket’s handle. He is too focused on your face to even notice – or care – about the way the plastic pinches the skin of his palm. His nerves were killing him, every step felt like he was dragging closer to the edge of a cliff. He swallows and it feels like sandpaper, so he turns his focus to the counter.

Your soft eyes and welcoming smile overwhelm him; he couldn’t face you. For a moment, he just stands there, clutching the handle of his basket. Finally, he awkwardly shoves the basket onto the counter, causing one of the books to fall. You catch it just in time with a small laugh.

“I’m s-sorry,” he mumbles, letting his eyes bravely dart between you and the haphazard mountain of books. “I-um.. just these… please.”

“You sure this is all?” you say playfully. It takes him a foolishly long time to realize that you just talked to him – joked with him. All he could manage was a pathetic, breathy giggle. His mind had, unfortunately, been elsewhere, preventing him from fully appreciate your charm. He would need to move some money around in his bank account later.

He keeps his head down as you scan each book, a blush creeping up his neck. He prays silently that you don’t see his trembling hands before he shoves them in his pockets.

You smile warmly at him as you announce the cost of his order, and Edward gives you a shaky grin in return. He pulls out his wallet, pays, and stumbles away from the counter with two heavy bags in each hand.

“Have a wonderful day,” you chirp behind him.

He’s barely holding himself together, his obsession deepening with each step he takes. He feels as though he’s floating back to his apartment, no longer caring about the hunger he felt earlier. No senses mattered in that moment, only the way your words repeat melodiously in his mind.

Edward, in his obsessive reverie, wouldn’t allow himself to sleep until he saw you again. He sat in his dimly lit apartment, only the soft hum of his computer breaking the silence. Rain taps against the window in a steady rhythm, trying to break his concentration on his thoughts of you. It wouldn’t work, he wouldn’t let it. He wanted his mind to be consumed by you.

The encounter at the bookstore was stuck in his head like a film on a loop. He kept every vivid detail in check, occasionally allowing some self-indulgent particulars to bleed in. You’d bat your eyelashes at him, touch his hand like you knew what you were doing to him. When he stammered, you had slightly tilted your head. He grunts, not wanting his fantasies to fully taint his very real memory of your interaction. He wanted to cling to each moment, analyze every word, replay it, dissect every nuance. Piece it all together until he thought it was tangible. But that notion had only come from the way his cock pulsed uncomfortably in his pants. He ignores it tonight. Greed was a sin, and he wouldn’t let it consume him. Finding your webcam in a sea of all others was a delicious divine punishment – one he had abused with muffled moans and tearful apologies. But finally seeing your blessed flesh in life, breathing the same air as you, and resisting the urge of satisfying himself… that was his penance.

Your smile… it wasn’t just out of practiced kindness. It was meant for me, he thought. That thought sent a shiver through him as his hands grip the arms of his chair. He felt exhilarated and terrified.

“It had to be fate.” He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. “Out of all the bookstores in Gotham… you were… You were there.”

The emotions were so overwhelming that he had to lean back and rub his hands over his face. The image of you persists, much to his dismay and yet to his delight. It couldn’t just be a coincidence. It couldn’t be. You two were meant to meet today. The universe had set it into motion.

Edward rolls his chair closer to his computer with a shaking breath. His fingers hover over the keyboard, hesitating for only a moment before gaining access to your webcam. You had just turned your computer on, the grainy light from your screen lit up your tired face. Seeing you again eased some of the tension in his body slowly. His lips curl into a gentle smile and he wants desperately to congratulate you on surviving your job. Watching felt like communion, his own sacred and intimate practice.

He whispers under his breath, words meant only for you. But he knows you can’t hear him. “You look so tired today. I hope I made a good impression on you.”

He traces a finger over the screen, as if by some miracle he would be able to touch the glow of your face and feel your warmth. He was a little disappointed that you were only going to check a few emails before retreating to your bed, but he understood why you only graced him with a few minutes. You were tired and he would respect that – respect you. You deserve to rest.

Before standing up from his desk, he reaches for a picture of you he had printed out earlier. He holds it close to his chest, settling onto the worn mattress on the floor. He rolls over on his side and closes his eyes, imagining your voice bidding him goodnight.

“Soon,” he murmurs into the dark of his room. “We’ll meet again soon.”

[wrestlingarsenal]

"Cowboy" Bob Orton in green trunks with matching kneepads dominates a jobber named John Bonello, who decided to wrestle in a snug red speedo. Bonello's tight-ass lycra has everyone's attention, including the ringside camera guy, who always seems to find himself positioned directly at Bonello's posterior, zooming in on that taint area between his thick thighs.

(I may have cropped these GIFs a bit to exaggerate the Bonello Ass-Cam effect, but still, check out the match and tell me this videographer wasn't craving some thick red Bonello cake...) The match is from a Mid-Atlantic Championship Wrestling episode recently posted to YouTube.

Later we see Orton take an interest in those stretchy red briefs, even hoisting the jobber up with a fistful of spandex only to drive a knee into his gut. Orton must've known that Bonello's trunks were on every viewer's mind -- the object of our attention. So he decides to fuck with the audience by pulling and grabbing the forbidden fruit, teasing a possible wardrobe malfunction.

If Orton wasn't yanking on this jobber's red speedo, he was dragging the submissive loser around by the hair. Sexually suggestive domination for sure! The greedy camera guy also got a shot of Orton crack in the following pinfall:

From a Mid-Atlantic Championship Wrestling episode recently posted to YouTube.

Damn Orton - don't kill him just for looking a bit prettier in his trunks than you!

[dalivanmagritte]

FIC REC : CHOI SAN (SAN)

favs

in the quiet places (fav, FLUFFY FLUFF, smut)

no smut

kill them with kindness (angstish, fluff, TENSIONS)

chicken noodle soup (fluff)

classics (smut)

filthy lips, loving touch (smut, fluff)

it's sweatpants season! oh my! (smut)

sweet farmer (smut)

save a horse, ride a cowboy (smut, cowboy!au)

knots (smut, masseur!au)

soft san (smut)

a lesser man (smut, fighter!au, boxer!au)

kalla (smut, BDSM)

i see red (smut)

dilf (smut)

roommate (smut, roommate!au (duh))

handy (smut, handyman!au)

his princess (smut, badboy!au)

howling to your moon (smut)

better late than never (smut, husband!au)

give a little pow pow on the baby maker (smut)

after all, you're my wife (smut, mafia!au)

stay focused (smut, office!au, university!au)

at your mercy (smut)

the hidden pleasure (smut)

pussy slapping (smut)

inexperienced (smut)

i hate how bad i want you part.2 (smut, CEO!au)

be my americano (smut)

workout (smut)

san as your boyfriend (fluff, smut)

cam boy (smut)

alternate universe (magics, gods, royalty, etc...)

limitless (smut, fluff, angst, knight!au, royal!au)

warrior (smut, historical!au, shifter!au, werewolf!au, royal!au)

let me protect you (smut, angst, victorian era!au)

demon cat boy (smut, catboy!au)

shut up and drive (smut, mafia!au)

imp!san (smut, imp!au)

hollow's eve (smut, demon!au)

vaya con dios (smut, religious!au, photographer!au)

*739 (smut, sex worker!au)

kinkuary day 1 (smut, royal!au)

underwater (smut, greek mythology!au)

the big bad wolf (smut, fluff, angstish, hybrid!au)

catch me if you can (fluff, hogwarts!au)

the champion (fluff, angstish, hogwarts!au)

from the shadows (fluff, hogwarts!au)

darling, his darling (smut, angstish, royal!au)

incubus: coming of age (incubus!san, smut)

to taint your soul (smut, incubus!san)

baby baby (smut, ABO!au)

synthetic heartbeat (smut, IA!san)

with another member

heists and celebration x wooyoung (smut, thiefs!au)

slow it down x wooyoung (smut, mafia!au, boxer!au)

crazy form x wooyoung (smut)

descend to depravity x seonghwa (smut, demon!au)

morally gray (and tw)

an imprisoned nighttale (pirate ateez, kidnapping!au, angst)

twisted (smut, stalker!au)

[soangelbaby]

ৎ୭ masterlist . . .

⋆˚ ༘ ೀ⋆ my valentines day writing event .ೃ࿔*:･

ଘ clark kent ….

pervert!clark

head

bestfriend!neighbor

breath for me ; red!clark

taking it all

new limits ; red!clark

tainted by you ; red!clark

facials ; red!clark

ଘ tom welling …. nothing to see here yet !

ଘ charlie baker …. nothing to see here yet !

ଘ jensen ackles ….

on cam

need your kids

player’s prayer

ଘ jason teague .… (smallville) nothing to see here yet !

ଘ vinnie hacker …. nothing to see here yet !

more upcoming…feel free to request !

[skyfallscotland]

The Empyrean characters as songs, based on ✨vibes✨

Violet: Eye of the Tiger — Survivor

Tairn: Bad to the Bone — George Thorogood & the Destroyers

Andarna: Back in Black — AC/DC

Xaden: Bette Davis Eyes — Kim Carne

Sgaeyl: Blue (Da Ba Dee) — Eiffel 65

Liam: Another One Bites the Dust — Queen

Rhiannon: Heaven is a Place on Earth — Belinda Carlisle

Sawyer: Holding Out For a Hero — Bonnie Tyler

Ridoc: Ice Ice Baby — Vanilla Ice

Dain: Every Breath You Take — The Police

Brennan: It’s My Life - Bon Jovi

Cam: 9 to 5 — Dolly Parton

Sloane: I Shot the Sheriff — Eric Clapton

Lilith: The Final Countdown — Europe

Melgren: Superstition — Stevie Wonder

Imogen: I Love Rock n’ Roll — Joan Jett & The Blackhearts

Garrick: The Horses — Daryl Braithwaite

Bodhi: Leather Jackets — Elton John

And for my delulu girlies, Naolin: Tainted Love — Soft Cell

[esthercore]

Honkai Star Rail

͙͘͡★ Multi (HSR Specific)

✮ Sweetness Overload!! (HSR Men and Cute Stuff they do!) ✮ HSR men and the chocolate end of ice cream cones ✮ HSR Men & Aftercare ✮ Cumoisseur ✮ Anon's thought on sub!men ✮ Bottom Ratio growing on Ether ✮ HSR Men & the Garlic test ✮ Wife you up ✮ Baby trapping

͙͘͡★ Multi (Blurbs)

͙͘͡★ Series:

✮ E-Whore [GN! Cam Boy/Girl Reader x HSR's Simps )] : Jing Yuan | Dr Ratio ✮ HSR Men & The bully trope: Aventurine ✮ HSR Men as Yanderes: ⋆ Part 1: Argenti, Aventurine, Blade, Boothill, Dr Ratio ⋆ Part 2: Caelus, Dan Heng, Dan Feng, Gallagher, Jing Yuan ⋆ Part 3: Sunday, Jiaoqiu, Welt, Gepard, Sampo

❤︎‬ ⋆˙ Argenti

✮ Masochist

❤︎‬ ⋆˙ Aventurine

✮ The shine in his eyes ✮ No frens :( ✮ Yandere Aventurine x Talent Motivation Department - employee reader ✮ Rings ✮ Poly ABO w/Alpha Ratio x Beta Reader x Omega Aventurine (they were both tops) ✮ His love is painful ✮ Are you feeling happy? ✮ Hold him, will ya ✮ Thoughts on him (1+ Sunday) (2) (3)

❤︎‬ ⋆˙ Blade

✮ Fucking the Enemy (+Kafka) ✮ Sex with him ✮ WTF did bro mean ✮ A man you suffer with ✮ Cages ✮ Self deprecating Blade x Enamored Lover

❤︎‬ ⋆˙ Boothill

✮ Overstimulation? ✮ A cute but wrong headcanon from the past ✮ Dick extension

❤︎‬ ⋆˙ Caelus

✮ Yan & Clockwork

❤︎‬ ⋆˙ Dan Heng

(soon)

❤︎‬ ⋆˙Dan Feng

(soon)

❤︎‬ ⋆˙Dr Ratio

✮ Dilated Pupils ✮ Yan! Ratio likes to study you ✮ Oral fixation treat

‪‪

❤︎‬ ⋆˙ Gallagher

✮ Yan! X Double Suicide

❤︎‬ ⋆˙ Gepard

(soon)

‪‪

❤︎‬ ⋆˙Jiaoqiu

✮ Knotting ✮ Eye Contact Kink

‪‪

❤︎‬ ⋆˙Jing Yuan

✮ Somno ✮ Falling for a short life species

❤︎‬ ⋆˙ Luocha

(soon)

❤︎‬ ⋆˙ Moze

✮ My gap moe assassin can't be this cute!! (Fluff) ✮ Yandere Moze and breaking in

❤︎‬ ⋆˙ Sampo

(soon)

❤︎‬ ⋆˙ Sugilite

✮ Thoughts on him

❤︎‬ ⋆˙Sunday

✮ Egg ✮ Robin, Songs, Family ✮ Yan!Sunday getting the wost bf award ✮ No frens :( ✮ [Ask] Yan!Sunday Breaking Reader ✮ Your White Gentleman ✮ Mating Dance ✮ Crying In Public ✮ Savior Complex ✮ Cages ✮ Preening his wings ✮ Punishment! ✮ Tainting Sanctity ✮ Dick too big ✮ Oral fixation treat ✮ Anon on Yan!Sunday punishing 10/10 writing ✮ Yan!Forcing Male Darling to Crossdress ✮ Thoughts on him (1+Aventurine) (2) (3)

❤︎‬ ⋆˙ Welt Yang

(soon)

My heart, I never feel I never see I never know Oh, heart And then it falls And then I fall And then I know

[secrets-and-streetlights]

Getting Clues from Hunter the Parenting Chapter 4.1

(Vampire Superpowers, Exploding Elderly, etc. )

Before this post gets wildly off topic, the Orge Poppenang team has been putting out SO MUCH good shit. It includes MAGE STUFF and you should WATCH IT.

Also don't read this before watching 4.1 or you'll SUDDENLY EXPLODE.

I've listened to the audio log a few times now and thought it'd be useful to take notes and figure out what powers could have be used by the chapter house murderer. From the pinned comment (pictured below) on the video we know that the powers discussed will be relevant to the mystery.

There is no way that all powers will be relevant unless Caine is there, but I plan on re-watching all chapter house stuff with these notes in mind.

Disciplines and Powers

The majority of the Hunter Huddle's discussion is about Disciplines. For this post I'm assuming that Dr. Waters is right in her assumption that the Ghoul is actually a true Vampire. She could be wrong, especially since there was a discussion of Draughts in ep 3.7.

However, this post is already long enough so lets just assume she is right for now.

So, episode 4.1 mentions a lot of Disciplines. Potence, Dominate, Obfuscate, and Blood Sorcery get their own Topic sections. Protean and Presence are mentioned offhand but I won't focus on them as they didn't get the Topic treatment.

I will try to list out all specific Powers mentioned, using V5 sources only. Note that some powers can be found from multiple sources (For example, Chimerstry is found in both the Companion book and Player's Guide). I will list its most recent printing.

Powers will also be listed in the order they were brought up in the Hunter Huddle. If you think I got a power wrong or have your own ideas let me know!

Potence

"Juggling Dumpsters, innit?" - Prowess (VtM Core, p. 264)

"Or ripping someone apart.." - Lethal Body (VtM Core, p. 264)

"..leap into the air, yes?" - Soaring Leap (VtM Core p. 264)

"..to create ripples in concrete" - Earthshock (VtM Core p. 265)

"..people go breakshit berserk" - Spark of Rage (VtM Core p. 265)

"..make any part.. as violent as their fist" - Subtle Hammer (Players Guide p. 79)

"..to make their finger snaps with the force of a bullet train." - Unsure. Possibly Flick from v20?

"Halt the flow of a raging river" - I'm stumped with this one. Big-D makes several allusions to Koldunic Sorcery (elemental sorcery), but then it wouldn't be included in the Potence Topic.

Dominate

"..issued simple commands.." - Compel (VtM Core p. 256)

"puppeteer entire crowds.." - Mass Manipulation (VtM Core p. 257)

"bury suggestions so deep it erases a host's personality" - Implant Suggestion (Players Guide p. 74)

"hey, Markus, kys" - Terminal Decree (VtM Core p. 257)

"..suggestion buried in our psyche.." - Submerged Directive (VtM Core p. 257)

Obfuscate

"turn invisible" - Various. Looking for specific powers.

"Couldn't see him on security cams" - Ghost in the Machine (VtM Core p.262)

"Impose a false-self" - Mask of a Thousand Faces (VtM Core p. 262)

"sounds can be silenced" - Silence of Death (VtM Core p. 261)

"conversations cloaked" - probably Cloak the Gathering (VtM Core p. 263) as its two Nosferatu talking in the example image.

"daredevils.. specialize in ..illusions" - Chimerstry (Players Guide, p. 76) as it is associated with Ravnos

"Obfuscate reality itself" - Dementation (VtM Core, p. 256) as it is associated with Malkavians

"staying completely still" - Cloak of Shadows (VtM Core p. 261)

Blood Sorcery + Rituals

"laser heat vision" (mentioned during Obfuscate Topic) - Some form of Koldunic Sorcery (Blood Sigils p. 61)

"Extract it from a range" - Theft of Vitae (VtM Core p. 274)

"gain unnatural insights from it (blood)" - A Taste for Blood (VtM Core p. 273)

"utilize it (blood) as a weapon" - Various. Probably Baal's Caress (VtM Core p. 274)

"cauldron of blood" - Cauldron of Blood (VtM Core p. 274)

"vitae-tainted flora" - Coax the Garden (Ritual, Cults of the Blood Gods p. 55) or Viscera Garden (Ritual, Blood Sigils p. 65)

"Hexes, curses" - too broad to assign specific rituals to

Paths

D also talks about Paths a bit. These are a V20 thing that I'm not as knowledgeable on. I'm not going to consider them for any theory crafting cause, to quote the Houdini-killer himself, "Thaumaturgy is too vast to be useful!"

Now that we've gone over the powers, we can begin to speculate what clan the Vampire could be. There is some talk of vampires learning Disciplines from each other, but D makes a point to say its unlikely. For now I'm going to assume that the Vampire hasn't learned any Disciplines outside of their natural 3.

Clans

I've outlined the Clans that have overlap between the four Topic Disciplines. I'm ignoring Disciplines gained from Predator Types and clans with only one Topic Discipline for my own sanity.

Banu Haqim: Blood Sorcery, Celerity, Obfuscate Lasombra: Dominate, Oblivion, Potence Malkavian: Auspex, Dominate, Obfuscate Nosferatu: Animalism, Obfuscate, Potence Tremere: Auspex, Blood Sorcery, Dominate

Now for theory territory. What clan is likely to be in there? I've listed my thoughts from most to least suspicious.

1.) Malkavian - I suspect Malkavian the most mostly because it fits into my "Spit is a Fera and killed Fatigue under duress" theory. They would also assumedly have Obfuscate (my theory for how Occam got choked out) and Dominate. Also the Dementation art was cool.

2.) Tremere - With Tremere being a dominate power in the area and being (almost) name dropped in 4.1, yeah there is a good chance there is a vampire wizard running around blowing up the elderly. Possibly Kevin's replacement?

3.) Lasombra - I don't think its likely, but D has talked about fighting Lasombra throughout the whole series. Could be foreshadowing. HtP takes place in 2007 I think, so a bit before the Lasombra officially joined the Ivory Tower.

4.) Banu Haqim - As cool as it'd be, I think there are too many Tremere in power for a Banu Haqim to be working for the Camarilla (assuming the Vampire is actually working for them). Same as Lasombra as I'm pretty sure the clan wasn't officially part of the Ivory Tower yet.

5.) Nosferatu - I love the stinky rat people. However, we just had a Nos big bad (Pytor) so I doubt we'd have another one. It'd be awesome if I was wrong.

6.) Honorable Mention to Ravnos for being referenced directly.

So yeah those are my initial notes and thoughts that'd be useful for rewatching previous chapters. I don't know how to properly end a post so uh. RRAAHH GO WATCH NORFOLK WIZARD GAME TOO