#Viewer Surge

[streamersuite]

Stream When Viewers Surge - Data-Driven Schedule Hacks

Streaming at the wrong hour can feel like shouting into the void. Your room is live, the playlist is perfect, but the viewer list refuses to move. Our latest deep-dive crunches tens of thousands of real Chaturbate sessions to pinpoint when audiences actually show up, tip, and follow. The numbers surprised us, and they might overhaul your daily schedule.

In the full report we chart four global “power windows” when traffic spikes by 40 percent or more, plus the hidden lulls you should avoid if you value your time. We also break down regional differences: North America’s golden hour does not match Europe’s lunch crowd, and Asia’s late-night fans demand a different vibe altogether. We even sliced the data by device type to reveal that mobile viewers peak earlier than desktop fans.

Here on Tumblr consider this your cheat sheet:

• Morning momentum: Smaller streams at 09:00 UTC grab high-value tippers before big names steal the stage. • Prime evening surge: 19:00 to 22:00 UTC fuels 55 percent of daily follows. • Midnight rollover: 00:30 UTC has lower competition yet a steady trickle of insomniacs ready to spend. • Sunday reset: Sundays average 18 percent more unique visitors than any weekday.

Implementing these slots can add a full hour of earnings without working longer. That means more time for creating killer content, less time refreshing stats. Want the complete graphs, methodology, and a planner that plugs directly into your StreamerSuite dashboard? Head to the full article now: https://streamersuite.com/blog/the-best-times-to-stream-for-maximum-exposure-based-on-real-data

Read it, bookmark it, and watch your room fill faster than ever. When data takes the guesswork out of timing, every second you go live counts. Plus the post includes a downloadable calendar template so you can map these windows against your personal schedule and stay consistent without burning out every month.

[rydondigitalmarketing]

CGI Ads Production and Motion Graphics, including website development

CGI Ads Production and Motion Graphics

In today's rapidly evolving digital landscape, businesses in Udaipur face unique challenges such as capturing audience attention and conveying their messages effectively. Computer-Generated Imagery (CGI) has emerged as a powerful tool in this endeavor, revolutionizing advertising and motion graphics. For businesses in Udaipur looking to leverage CGI Ads Production and CGI Motion Graphics services, partnering with a proficient agency like Rydon Digital, which specializes in these local challenges, can be a game-changer.

Understanding CGI in Modern Advertising

Computer-Generated Imagery (CGI) refers to the creation of still or animated visual content with computer software. In advertising, CGI enables the production of hyper-realistic visuals that might be challenging or impossible to capture through traditional photography or videography. This technology allows brands to craft compelling narratives, showcase products in dynamic ways, and create immersive experiences that resonate with audiences.

The Rise of CGI Ads Production

The demand for CGI Ads Production has surged as brands recognize the myriad benefits it offers. For instance, a case study by XYZ Research showed a 25% increase in engagement, while an industry report by ABC Analytics highlighted a 15% reduction in costs.

• Unparalleled Creativity: CGI allows for the visualization of concepts without the constraints of reality, enabling brands to present their products or services in imaginative settings.

• Cost-effectiveness: Eliminating the need for elaborate sets, props, or on-location shoots, CGI can reduce production costs while maintaining high-quality outputs.

• Consistency and Control: Every element in a CGI ad is controllable, ensuring consistency across campaigns and the ability to make adjustments without reshooting.

• Engagement: High-quality CGI ads captivate viewers, leading to increased engagement and brand recall.

The Impact of CGI Motion Graphics Services

Motion graphics combine graphic design and animation to create engaging visual content. When enhanced with CGI, motion graphics become even more dynamic, offering:

• Enhanced Storytelling: CGI motion graphics can simplify complex ideas, making them more accessible and engaging for viewers.

• Versatility: They are adaptable across various platforms, from social media to television, ensuring a cohesive brand presence.

• Modern aesthetics: The sleek and polished look of CGI motion graphics aligns with contemporary design trends, appealing to modern audiences.

After understanding the benefits of CGI, businesses in Udaipur can look towards Rydon Digital, a pioneering agency in CGI services, as a premier choice for leveraging CGI Ads Production and CGI Motion Graphics services. As a leading digital marketing agency, Rydon Digital offers a comprehensive suite of services tailored to meet the unique needs of each client.

Comprehensive Digital Solutions

Rydon Digital offers a range of services that complement CGI Ads Production and Motion Graphics, including website development, social media management, and video editing, to create a cohesive digital strategy.

Website Development: 

Social Media Management: Harnessing the power of social platforms to grow brands and engage audiences.

Video Editing: Transforming raw footage into captivating visual stories that leave lasting impressions.

Graphic Design: Providing innovative designs that help brands make memorable impressions.

Search Engine Optimization (SEO): Boosting online visibility through expert SEO strategies.

Innovative NFC Products

In addition to CGI services, Rydon Digital offers advanced Near Field Communication (NFC) products, such as digital business cards and social media stands, which are revolutionizing the way businesses connect and engage.

Rydon Digital employs unique methodologies and innovations in CGI Ads Production, such as advanced 3D modeling techniques and real-time rendering, ensuring high-quality and efficient production.

Rydon Digital focuses its approach to CGI Ads Production on client needs:

Conceptualization: Collaborating with clients to understand their vision and objectives.

Storyboarding: Developing detailed storyboards to visualize the ad's flow and key elements.

3D Modeling and Animation: Creating lifelike 3D models and animating them to align with the storyboard.

Texturing and Lighting: Applying textures and lighting to enhance realism and visual appeal.

Rendering and Post-Production: Finalizing the visuals and incorporating any additional effects or adjustments.

Benefits of Partnering with Rydon Digital include proven expertise, as demonstrated by successful campaigns for clients like XYZ Corporation, which resulted in a 30% increase in engagement and a 20% reduction in production costs. Additionally, numerous other clients have reported similar successes, reinforcing Rydon Digital's reputation for delivering impactful results.

The Future of Advertising in Udaipur

As Udaipur continues to grow as a business hub, the adoption of advanced advertising techniques like CGI Ads Production and CGI Motion Graphics services will be pivotal. Businesses that embrace these technologies will not only stand out in a competitive market but also connect more effectively with their audiences.

Conclusion

Incorporating CGI into advertising strategies offers unparalleled opportunities for creativity, engagement, and brand differentiation.

[unintentionalseductress]

I saw this tiktok video a looong time ago with these two women firefighters who have toned bodies and it got me thinking of a scenario with the l&ds boys.

Imagine MC/Reader fighting some wanderes or working out at the Hunters training center and Tara or some civilian noticed just how well tone she is and decide to make a post or video about her. Now MC/Reader is know as the "Hot Hunter"

I would love to see the boys reaction to MC/Reader new found attention and all the horny comments she is getting.

Hot Hunter

Warnings: mild boner descriptions, some grinding and twerking, suggestive dialogue, mostly harmless A/n: Thank you so much for sending this in @deputy-videogamer! It was fun imagining the men's reactions to this scenario. Hope you enjoy this! Just an FYI this was combined with another similar request for Zayne getting hard at the gym for MC. Not really proofread.

You carefully set up your camera and peeked at the screen one last time before picking up a pair of weights off the rack. Although working out was mostly necessary because of your job, it was more bearable now that you had a buddy.

You glance over at Zayne, who's flexing his shoulders, having finished a set on the chin-up bar. He catches your eye, his lips forming a subtle smile before he grabs the bar and lifts himself up again. You allow yourself a brief moment of indulgence, admiring how the fabric scrunches over his broad shoulders before returning to your own workout.

You're live now and already have viewers coming in. Tara insisted that posting hunter workouts was a great way to get audience engagement since many people are focusing on their health nowadays. You demonstrated some basic exercises and how to position the weights, correcting your form as you did so.

Sweat forms on your forehead as you go through the motions, your toned muscles tightening under the skin as you curl and relax. After a few sets, you decide squats are in order. You replace the dumbells and instead, pick up a heavier kettlebell. Turning so that your audience could clearly see your form and how you were adjusting your feet, you bend, feeling your thigh muscles stretch, and your ass tensing as you went down before slowly coming back up. Suddenly there’s a surge in the audience, the numbers rising up and the phone starts to ping continuously as comments flood the live stream. 

Wondering what could have happened, you’re about to get up but are spared as out of nowhere, Zayne suddenly snatches up your phone. His sharp eyes scan the screen, and there’s tension in the set of his mouth as he reads the comments.

“Zayne?” You ask from the floor, still squatting. He makes his way over to you. 

“Is there a reason you’re recording your workout?” Zayne asks, his eyes still moving over the screen. 

“Oh Tara suggested it. We get a lot of questions about our work out routine since we’re hunters. Why?”

“Well…it appears you may have gotten some…raunchy comments.” 

“What? No way!” Your eyes widen. “What are they saying?”

Zayne’s eyes flick uncertainly to your face before he clears his throat. “Well. Most of them seem to have a fruit.”

“A fruit?”

“A peach, to be precise.” A snort of laughter forces its way from your body. 

“Are you serious? There’s no way!” Zayne resignedly shows you the comments and indeed, every other one seemed to be the peach emoji.

“That hunter ass.” You’re amused as you read another one. “Hunter got the buns and the bakery. Look at that cake. Hunter workouts: the key to having a juicy peach.” The comments keep pouring in, and Zayne’s eyes darken as they get progressively thirstier. One in particular, coming from an anonymous commenter, said, “you can squat on my face miss hunter.” With a huff, Zayne ends the livestream. 

“Hey!” You protest as he pockets the device. “It was starting to get good.”

“I see. So lewd compliments about your rear are ‘good’.” Zayne’s eyes have a glint in them, and sulking, you stand, all motivation for your workout disappearing like rain. 

“I don’t see why those comments had to be so inappropriate.” Zayne bites out as he crosses his arms disprovingly. 

“It’s the internet.” You grumble as you start to put the weights back on the rack. “Who’s polite on the internet?” You back up and bump into a sturdy wall of muscle. Before you can register what’s happening, Zayne’s deep voice growls in your ear. 

“Have I not complimented you enough? Why are you looking for validation from strangers?” Caged between the rack and his body, you squirm, your ass inadvertently brushing against the junction of his thighs. Instantly, you feel him hardening, the warm, firmness of his cock pushing up invitingly against your bottom. 

“Well Dr. Zayne, it looks like you were saving your best compliment for last,” you tease and innocently reach down to pick up a lighter weight, your bottom rubbing provocatively against his erection as you bend over and straighten. You stifle a giggle as Zayne spins you around, biting your lip and looking at him with mischievous eyes. Zayne's hands tighten on your hips.

“This ‘cake’ belongs exclusively to me. We’ve worked out enough. I need to raise my sugar levels."

Rafayel didn’t like working out. He made this very obvious as he grumbled during your daily jog. It’s been 10 minutes and his cheeks are red, locks of his hair out of place, and plastered to his forehead with sweat. His breath comes in pants as he tries to keep up with you. 

“For being my bodyguard, you seem to always find new ways to kill me!” You look back over your shoulder and see him starting to slow down. Taking pity on him, you run in place and allow him to catch up. When he does, Rafayel moans and leans against a tree. “Are we done yet? This is torture!” 

You check your phone and try not to laugh at his state. “This is hardly anything Raf. We still have 2 miles to go.”

“2 miles?!” Rafayel crosses his arms and shakes his head no. “I refuse to believe it. You’re just saying that to trick me into running more than what was promised!”

Rolling your eyes but still amused, you playfully poke his ribs. “I’m really not. C’mon it’s a beautiful day out! We’re getting all this fresh air and enjoying all the greenery-”

“Fresh and green is for bunnies! I’m exhausted. Just let me rest ok?” He drinks from his water bottle and you wait patiently for him, stretching as he does so. Two men who had been sprinting briskly around the path when you had started now slow down as they near. They glance appreciatively at you, grinning at Rafayel. 

“You can run this round with us if you want. Let your friend rest.” One of them says sportingly, glancing at Rafayel’s disheveled state. Rafayel bristles at the implication. 

“Hey! I was just catching my breath!”

“Of course you were!” The other man interjects quickly, trying to quell Rafayel’s ire. “You just looked like you could use the break. She looks like she has a lot of energy! Could run this whole trail before either of us make it to the halfway mark.”

Noticing the ominous shadow starting to grow on his face, you laugh, trying to dispel the tension. “Thanks. But I’m taking a break too. This was probably going to be my last mile.”

“Really?” The first man looks surprised. “With the way you were going, I thought you were going for at least 2 more. Are you a marathoner?”

You shake your head politely. “Hunter.”

“Oh! No wonder!” Both men smile dazzlingly. “Obviously hunters have to stay in good shape!”

“We do,” you say lightly, pretending to ignore Rafayel glowering behind you. “It’s a very physically demanding job.”

“Yeah,” Rafayel pipes up suddenly. “And she has very little time to herself. So we have to get going if it’s not too much trouble.”

Understanding the hint, the men nod at Rafayel. “Well enjoy your weekend then! Feel free to join us if you change your mind.” They run off and Rafayel glares at them. 

“Feel free to join us,” he says in a mocking tone as he watches them sprint away. “We’re never coming back to this park again.”

“Oh Rafayel, they were just being friendly.” You start to power walk and Rafayel follows suit. 

“No they weren’t! Didn’t you hear them? Let your friend rest. You look like you have a lot of energy! They were totally hitting on you!” You snort at his tone because he sounded so adorable right now.

“There’s nothing funny about strange men trying to hit on my girl. You’re already thinking of leaving me aren’t you?” Rafayel pouts, and you stop in your tracks before you fall over laughing. Cupping his sulky face between your hands, you quickly peck him on the lips, catching him off guard, because he’s blushing when you move away.

“I’d never leave you Raf. My breathless little fishball.”

“You can’t just insult me to my face and think it’s all ok!”

“Oh, so many people stitched my workout videos!” You’re lazing on Sylus’s lap as he works out the knots in your shoulders from your most recent sparring session. You wince as he squeezes a tender spot. 

“Ouch.”

“Ouch? What happened to no pain no gain?” Sylus teases you. 

“It doesn’t always have to hurt.” You absently open a random stitch notification and watch as a burly, muscled, man talks into the camera while holding a plank. 

“Ok Miss Hunter! You said you can plank for 10 minutes no sweat! I’m gonna beat that record!” The man on the screen balances himself and the timer on the video starts. The sound of his heavy breathing fills the room and Sylus raises an eyebrow. 

“Sweetie, you know you can tell me if you’re watching adult videos right?” You pinch his thigh, satisfied when he twitches.

“No need to get defensive.” His hands wander to your lower back and he continues to massage you. You watch the video intently. The man who had stitched your video was already starting to lose balance; his forearms were quivering from the effort. The timer continues counting, but right at the eight-minute mark the man groans and breaks position. He laughs and winks at the camera. 

“Maybe you should give me a private lesson Miss Hunter!” he says jokingly before the video ends. The comments section is filled with comedic jabs at the man, saying he better last longer than that in other aspects.

“Pathetic,” Sylus murmurs and you startle, unaware that he had been looking at your phone. 

“It’s hard to plank Sylus.” You say discipliningly. “It took me 6 whole months before I could hold for 10 minutes.” 

Sylus doesn’t reply but his hands still as you open another stitch. A man giving off jock vibes fills the screen. “Ok! Miss Hunter said she could complete this whole circuit in 12 minutes! I’ve set up my workspace exactly the same way. If I beat her time, then I’ll ask her out to dinner! Wish me luck guys!” You watch in amusement as the guy starts his workout, puffing and grunting as he does so. 

He was behind 2 phases when the timer rang and he stopped, flopping to the floor. “Whoo! This kicked my ass! Looks like I didn’t beat her time. But hey, maybe Miss Hunter will take pity on me and ask me out herself?”

Your notifications ping suddenly and you check them, surprised to see Sylus’s name popping up several times. “What are you doing?” You open one of your workout videos, then stifle a laugh as you see the replies Sylus has been giving to the commenters.

“You’re too fine to be working out alone.” Sylus: “Oh, don’t worry. She’s got me right there to spot her.”

“Are you a fitness trainer? Because you’ve got me wanting to follow your every move.”Sylus: “She’s not taking clients, but I’m sure a good mirror could help you with that ‘following her every move’ thing.”

“You’re perfect. The body, the confidence, the vibes—everything!”Sylus: “As her boyfriend, I agree!” 

You’re way too beautiful to be single.”Sylus: “Good observation. She’s not.”

Exasperated but also entertained, you straddle Sylus’s lap, nuzzling into him like a cat. “Is the big, bad leader of Onychinus jealous of some strangers on the internet?”

“Not at all kitten. But I think it’s fair to warn them that my gains aren’t always necessarily in the gym.”

Tara holds her phone up as she captures you demonstrating how to effectively use a punching. You perform some basic karate moves, the slaps of your hands and feet kicking the bag filling the gym at the Hunter’s Association. 

“Wow! These comments are so nice!” Tara encourages you as you wipe sweat from your brow. 

“Are they?”

“Yeah! This one lady is saying you’re inspiring her to workout again! Another one says your arms look so sleek and toned! AND!” Tara practically squeals with delight. “This one guy is asking if you do personal training sessions!”

Tara giggles and winks at you. “Maybe you should quit your job and become a fitness instructor instead!” As she continues to film you, more comments flood the inbox, some questions, others compliments. 

“This is the hot hunter I was telling you about! And he’s tagging his friend!” Tara can barely control her enthusiasm. You’re trending everywhere are #hothunter!”

“Who’s calling her a hot hunter?” Out of nowhere, Xavier steps in leaning over Tara’s shoulder to watch the screen. His eyes darken at the comments.

“Xavier!” Tara quickly puts the phone away, looking shocked. “I wasn’t expecting you to turn up.”

“Who’s calling her a hot hunter?” Xavier repeats. His tone is light but you can see the beginnings of a threatening spirit starting to take hold of him. 

“No one! Just…some random person on the internet, it’s nothing serious! I mean, as her boyfriend, you have nothing to worry about!” Tara rambles, clearly sensing the ominous cloud hanging over Xavier’s head. Xavier reaches out to angle the phone and reads the influx of new comments. Tara glances over at you awkwardly, unable to break free from Xavier’s grip. 

After a long moment, Xavier releases the phone and then walks over to the punching bag you’d been demonstrating on. More pings resonate from the phone as more comments come on the screen. “Don’t stop now,” Xavier prompts Tara who looks apprehensive. “Please. Tell me what they’re saying.”

You look at Xavier tentatively and reach out to hold his hand. “Xavier. It’s just people on the internet posting comments. Everyone hopes for engagement nowadays right?”

Xavier doesn’t reply and continues to fix Tara with a stern look. Swallowing, she reads a few comments. “Who’s the guy that just walked in? He’s hot.” She glances nervously at Xavier. 

“Continue.”

“Is the new guy a hunter? Is he the hot hunter’s boyfriend? Is Mr. Hunter going to show us some workout moves too?”

“Hmm.” Xavier considers, then looks directly into the camera. “Greetings everyone. To answer your questions, yes, I’m a hunter too. I’m the hot hunter’s mission partner and boyfriend.” Your cheeks heat up and you push Xavier, trying to get him to cool off.

“I do have a move I’d like to show everyone watching.” Xavier continues to speak, unfazed by your subtle gestures for him to stop. He catches your hand and gently leads you away from the punching bag. He withdraws his hunter’s sword from its sheath, and it gleams under the lights as he does so. 

“Hunters are trained to disarm threats as quickly as possible. Advanced weapons like my sword here are very effective.” Swiftly, Xavier raises his arm, and in one neat swipe, cleaves the punching bag into 2. Stuffing falls like cottony blood from the tear. Xavier brandishes his sword at the phone.

“That’s what happens when I try to protect my girlfriend. Pretty cool huh?” There’s a smile on Xavier’s face that’s charming, yet somehow menacing at the same time. For a brief second, the comments section goes silent. Then it starts bursting with fresh words.

“I want him as a boyfriend! So possessive I love it! Can Mr. Hunter possibly make more videos with the hot hunter?” You read them in your head and sigh.

“Well Xavier, you’ll probably be trending this week as #mrhunter.” You let out a startled gasp as Xavier firmly grips your upper arm and leads you away from the gym. 

“Good. The fewer eyes on you the better.”

© unintentionalseductress original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

@brekkersgf @ladyparamount @otomegamesforlife @shddyboo @supernaturalbaesduh @sweets-kozume @theimmortalbuns @venussakura @erebus-et-eigengrau @who-mentioned-rhys-larsen

[scoupsakakitty]

Knock Knock | idol!s.coups x idol!reader | angst

The cool night air brushed against Y/N’s face as she walked through the dimly lit streets of Seoul, her phone held up as she went live for her fans. The city buzzed softly around her distant car engines, faint chatter, and the rhythmic sound of her footsteps on the pavement. She’d just finished an intense dance practice, her muscles aching but her spirit still lively as she interacted with her fans.

Her smile, however, didn’t fully reach her eyes.

Every now and then, her gaze flickered nervously over her shoulder, her footsteps slowing slightly. Her breath hitched, though she tried to mask it with small laughs, brushing off the tension with casual comments. But her fans weren’t blind.

“Why do you keep looking back?”

“Are you okay, Y/N?”

“Is someone following you?”

She swallowed hard, forcing a shaky smile. “It’s nothing,” she whispered, her voice thinner than usual. But her eyes told a different story wide, alert, and filled with fear.

She kept walking, her heart pounding faster with each step. The feeling of being watched grew heavier, like a shadow clinging to her back. Eventually, she stopped mid-sentence, glancing back one more time, her face tense.

Then she spoke, her voice firm despite the tremble. “I just want to say this,” she began, her fingers tightening around her phone, “it’s not okay to follow idols. It’s not okay to make us feel unsafe. Sasaengs are not fans.”

The chat exploded, filled with worried messages, but Y/N didn’t linger on the topic. She sighed, trying to shake off the fear as she approached her apartment building. She entered quickly, locking the door behind her with trembling hands. She leaned against it for a moment, taking deep breaths before forcing herself to smile again for the live.

“Anyway,” she said, her voice lighter than she felt, “let’s talk about something else.”

She chatted about rehearsals, upcoming schedules, random funny stories anything to drown out the lingering fear in her chest. But then—

Ding dong.

Her doorbell rang.

She froze.

Her face went pale, her breath catching in her throat. The chat exploded again:

“Who is that?”

“Did someone follow you home?!”

“Y/N, don’t open the door!”

A few seconds later knock, knock, knock.

Louder. More urgent.

Panic surged through her veins. She stood up, her phone shaking slightly in her hand as she approached the door cautiously.

The live glitched for a moment, pausing briefly as her phone started ringing. She flinched at the sound, staring at the caller ID. An unknown number. Her heart sank.

She declined the call, but it rang again almost immediately.

When she finally answered, her voice was barely a whisper. “Please… just go away.”

Her hands trembled uncontrollably. She didn’t even realize her live was still going viewers watching every terrifying second.

Eventually, she grabbed her phone, her face filled with fear and exhaustion, and ended the live without saying another word.

Seungcheol had been watching the live from his apartment, his heart pounding in his chest. The moment the screen went black, he didn’t hesitate.

He was already grabbing his jacket, his keys jingling in his shaky hands as he rushed out the door. His mind raced with worst-case scenarios, panic clouding his thoughts.

Please be okay. Please be okay.

It took him less than 15 minutes to get to her apartment, speeding through the empty Seoul streets, his heart beating louder than the car’s engine.

When he arrived, he didn’t even bother with the elevator. He sprinted up the stairs, his legs burning but his fear pushing him forward.

When he reached her door, he banged on it, his voice raw with worry. “Y/N! It’s me! Open up, please!”

The door creaked open slowly, and there she was.

Her face was streaked with tears, her eyes red and puffy, her body trembling like a leaf in the wind. She didn’t say a word just looked at him with broken eyes, like she was holding herself together by a thread.

Seungcheol didn’t hesitate. He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as she broke down, sobbing into his chest. Her fingers clutched his jacket desperately, like he was the only thing keeping her from falling apart.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, his voice shaking. “I’m here now. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

She couldn’t stop shaking.

Seungcheol kept whispering comforting words, running his hand gently through her hair, trying to steady her breathing. He felt her tears soak through his shirt, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was that she was alive, that she was here.

But then—

Flash.

A sudden burst of light from outside the hallway window.

Seungcheol’s body tensed instantly. He turned his head sharply, just in time to see a figure disappearing around the corner a camera still faintly visible in their hand.

His jaw clenched. His heart raced with a different kind of fear now anger.

Without a word, he guided Y/N back inside, locking the door securely behind them. His mind was racing. The photo. Their secret. The world would know.

Y/N seemed to realize it too because she mumbled through her tears, “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry. This is my fault. Now they’ll know. Your career—”

“Hey,” Seungcheol interrupted, cupping her face gently, forcing her to look at him. His eyes were soft but filled with determination. “I don’t care about any of that. You hear me? I don’t care if the whole world finds out. The only thing that matters to me is you. That you’re safe.”

Tears welled up in her eyes again, but this time they weren’t just from fear they were from relief.

“I’m staying here tonight,” he whispered, pulling her back into his arms. “I’m not leaving you alone.”

Later, as they lay in her bed, Y/N clung to him tightly, her body still trembling with the remnants of fear. Seungcheol held her close, his arms wrapped around her protectively. He whispered softly, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on her back.

“It’s okay now. I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

She eventually drifted off to sleep in his arms, her breathing slow and steady against his chest. Seungcheol stayed awake for a long time, watching over her, his heart still heavy with worry but also filled with love.

Because nothing else mattered.

Not the photo.

Not the rumors that would come.

Not the world.

Just her.

————————————————————————————-

[sukii77]

streamer megumi

Modern AU (there's a part 1 too)

streamer!megumi who’s used to the streams where it's mostly just him and the game, but suddenly, during one of his sessions, his viewers start commenting about you in the background.

viewer1: “Is that Y/n in the background?” viewer2: “I swear I see Y/n! Are they joining the stream?” viewer3: "I need more of them in the stream.”

You catch the comments but don’t say anything. Megumi notices the increase in messages and frowns. “Ugh, they’re really that interested in you?”

streamer!megumi who, after a few more minutes, turns to you and says, “Hey, they want to see you in the stream. Wanna play?” He sounds half-serious, half-reluctant.

“Play?” you blink at him. “I don't play games much...”

He shrugs nonchalantly, still playing his game. “They want it, and you’re just sitting there. Come on, it’ll be fine.”

streamer!megumi who gets a little excited when you join the game, even if it’s just for the stream. “Come on, I’ll teach you the basics, it’s not that hard.”

streamer!megumi who looks surprisingly good when he's explaining something, very straightforward. “Just press this button to attack”

streamer!megumi who, when you mess up a move in the game, lets out a tiny sigh but doesn’t say anything. His followers notice and they tease him for being so patient with you.

streamer!megumi who notices the sudden surge in viewers as you join the stream.

viewer1: “Wait Y/n’s actually playing?!” viewer2: “omg they’re so cute I’m dying” viewer3: “HELL YEAH!”

streamer!megumi who gets a bit distracted, momentarily losing focus on the game to give you a light shoulder bump. “Not bad. Maybe you should play more often.” And for once, he sounds genuinely impressed, even though he tries to hide it.

[heartfullofleeches]

fake pizza boy yan developed a concerning taste for seeing darling eating his cum after that first encounter and starts bringing a variety of menu items with “ranch dips” and “vanilla shakes”. plenty of visual material to keep the supply up for his next “delivery” and he is definitely not spiraling into crisis just because the only thing that gets him hard for his other shoots is the mental image of darling stuffed full of his—

(Slapping these two together since they have a similar premise)

Yan Adult Film Star Pizza Boy + Reader [18+]

[Masterbation, Food Play]

-

"Come on..... Come on....."

Twenty minutes till deadline. Since the beginning of his career he stuck to a strict schedule. A simple routine to get the ball rolling as he dipped his toes in the new venture. Now that he had so many eyes on him and his content, Brie was able to take more breaks in between filming, but at this point it had been almost two weeks since he posted anything at all.

He tried everything. His hands. Toys. Videos. Brie even thought about buying pills at one point, but gaining an erection wasn't the hard part of his situation. His viewers were into a lot of things - but if there was one thing that really got their wallets open for him it was when he painted the nearest surface to him with a heavy load of his release. His donations would be flooded with comments from his hands how they wished to be his desk or pillows - or for the opportunity to lick said object clean.

Kind of like how you licked your fingers clean on the day he first met you.

The brief flicker of your face in his mind made his aching length jump in his spit stained palm. The encounter he had with you was all that he could think about anymore. He was obssessed - The innocent confusion as you opened the front door, the genuine gratitude in your expression as you handed him some cash for all his troubles and the free meal. Brie would pay anything to see you sample his sauce again. The way your eyes lit up as the flavor registered on your tongue-

"Mmh....."

What he wouldn’t give to have those lips wrapped around him. If you liked what he gave you so much what better than to get it straight from the source, right? The slick sound of friction grows louder as his hand moves quicker - eyes scanning every corner of his room for more fuel for his fantasies. He wish he had kept the photos he found of you online on screen, but he feared loosing that knot of pleasure twisting at his insides if he took his focus off the task at hand for any reason.

His eyes fall on the drink cup from the takeout he picked up earlier in the day. A boring Styrofoam cup with no clear ties to any restaurant would be the perfect container to bring you another item off the menu. The peach tea he had earlier would be a dead giveaway for any tampering. He needed something thicker, ideally with a creamy texture.

A milkshake.

Who wouldn't enjoy a nice, refreshing shake after pizza? You surely had to be thirsty after eating all that bread. Brie fisted his cock to the image of you on your knees beneath his table - hands gripping the meat of his thighs as your mouth hung open awaiting your treat. You'd look so cute under him like that - his fans would absolutely love you-

A surge of jealousy strengths his grip. Nobody should get to see you like that but him. Those perverts could fotk over their life savings and it wouldn't be enough for Brie to share you with them. Maybe the occasional stream with the two of you couldn't hurt - your face held against his pelvis as he stuffed that pretty throat so nobody could see anything but his cock slipping past your perfect lips.

"Ah.... Y/n...." It's the first time he's said your name. The first time he's let his imagination run this wild. He makes a mental note to cut it out during editingthe. Brie swipes the camera off his desk, angling it better towards his lap and the empty floor below him. He then makes a grab for the empty cup - popping off its lid as he positions the container between his legs. They tremble - barely holding into the styrofoam without crushing it as Brie spits - whimpering as he coats his girth in another layer of his saliva. For a fleeting moment he can perfectly picturing the warmth dripping down his cock as your own - and that's all it takes for him to come undone.

Brie cries out your name with a shakey breath, clutching the edge of his desk for stability as his upper body lurches forward, pouring ropes upon ropes of his spend in the general direction of the cup. It's too much- With it being so long since the last time he came, this hard - tears stab at the corners of his eyes as he shutters, nails peeling chipping at the polished finish of his desk. He misses his intended target at first go, thighs glistening with cum as he hurriedly fixes the cup to catch the remainder.

Brie takes a long pause to catch his breath before wipping off his camera lense, posing with a shakey thumb up as he holds the cup for all to see.

"Shake's ready- Guess it's about time I make another delivery~"

-

"And here you are, one milkshake on the house. We're always trying out new things in the kitchen and like to reward our loyal customers by letting them sample new items first."

Swirling your straw through the thick slurry, you take another sip with a satisfied hum. "Hm. You said this was salted caramel, yeah?"

The delivery boy snaps back to attention - seemingly lost in thought as you gulp down the shake. "Y-yes. That's right- Your thoughts?"

"It's pretty damn good, actually. Been getting kinda hot these past couple of nights so this is just what I needed right about now."

Brie bites down hard on his bottom lip as you place the cool styrofoam against your bare neck, condensation running down to your chest.

"I forgot to ask the last time I can, but my boss finds it really helpful if I get some pictures of satisfied customers to put up. Would you mind if I took a couple of you right now?"

[captainmalewriter]

Streamer Gifts

Enzo was relatively new to the streaming gig. When he first started streaming, he didn’t really think anyone would tune in to watch him play video games. However, as he continued streaming, his following slowly grew over time. Before Enzo knew it, he had built up a small online community who enjoyed watching his live reactions and witty sense of humor. He had grown to love live streaming and couldn’t imagine life without it anymore.

One day, while Enzo was playing the latest indie horror game on live stream, he noticed his viewers suddenly shot up from 74 to 511 within minutes. 

“Woah! Welcome everyone,” Enzo chuckled as he paused the game to look directly into his face camera. “Happy to have y’all here! I stream every other day and we just laugh and play games here. If you like the vibe, be sure to drop a follow and join our little family!”

After he gave his usual little spiel, Enzo continued playing. As the live stream continued, a few of Enzo’s new followers began dropping digital coins for him. Digital coins basically functioned as a tip jar. They were a way for people to support their favorite streamers. Enzo couldn’t help but smile every time his bell went off whenever someone dropped him a few coins. Coins were never expected but always appreciated.

“Thank you so much for the coins guys, I really appreciate y’all!” 

The coins trickled in slowly at first. After enough coins had been gifted, Enzo found himself physically reacting to them for some reason. A sudden warmth began spreading around his extremities. 

Unngh…

Enzo let out a slight moan as he beat the next level. His face quickly contorted into a confused expression. He had no idea where such a genuine moan came from but decided to just ignore it and keep playing. Meanwhile, his new followers began sending him more and more coins. He had a steady flow of gifts coming in now. It got to the point where he had to turn off the bell notification because it was going off constantly. 

But aside from that, Enzo grew increasingly flustered with every gift. He tried suppressing his sensual groans, but they practically forced themselves out of his mouth.

Ughhh… fuck!!

Enzo paused the game. He had no idea what was going on with his body. He was warm everywhere, and he felt an inexplicable pressure building up inside of him. Enzo held his aching bicep with one hand while the other pawed at his growing junk— all while still live on camera with an audience. 

Ohhh…! Mmmm…

One of his followers dropped another 100 coins, which zapped Enzo with another electric shock full of sensual pleasure.

Awwwgh!!

Enzo realized what was going on. The coins his new followers were sending weren’t just any ordinary coins. There was something wrong with them, like they were cursed or something. Enzo had somehow become biometrically connected to the fake streaming currency for some unknown reason. Whenever someone gifted him one of those bad coins, his body would physically react by moaning. Enzo had no idea how to stop it, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted it to stop. He had become hooked on the intense bodily feelings the bad coins were giving him. His skin had become hypersensitive. With every touch, Enzo felt a new jolt of sensual pleasure shoot throughout his body. It felt good… And it left him craving more. He couldn’t contain himself. He needed more.

In an attempt to garner more coins from his followers, Enzo began leaning into it. He turned off the silly horror video game altogether and instead began rubbing himself down in front of his camera. His followers loved it! A surge of bad coins came pouring in. The sudden wave of erotic pleasure was more than Enzo could take. He fell back against his gaming chair with his eyes rolled back until they were clear white.

Aghhhh!! Ohhhhh FUCKK!!! Nrgghhhh awwww…

His muscles were straining and swelling from all the electric stimulation. They grew bigger and bigger until Enzo’s clothes could no longer contain them. Enzo stretched and flexed his biceps as his shoulder span grew wider and wider, causing the fabric of his sleeves to burst right off. Enzo preferred to keep his pits clean and shaved, but the sudden electric pulses stimulated his hair growth. Within two minutes, his pit hair grew back in without a problem. By the end of it, Enzo had gone from being an ordinary video game streamer with an average build to a hairy jock with a ruggedly handsome face and impressive biceps too.

“Aaaaghhhh FUCK! Whewww that feels so much better!!” Enzo shouted as he stretched out his new muscular body.

Enzo made a show of himself flexing his guns on camera. His hundreds of fans were poured in with plenty of comments thirsting over his new body. Enzo chuckled as he read a few comments of people describing how they’d worship his arms and hairy pits in incredibly vulgar detail. 

“Thanks so much for all the love y’all, I’m glad y’all like what you see here! Be sure to drop a follow, and I’ll see y’all in the next stream! Who knows, maybe I’ll wear something… A little special, just as my gift to all of you.” 

He winked while pulling on his shirt, giving his adoring fans a cute little nipple slip, then closed out the live stream. 

Meanwhile, all of Enzo’s strange, new fans were busy discussing whose livestream to take over next. Once they decided, they all hopped on at the same time and began gifting him coins. That streamer was overjoyed to see his livestream finally blowing up. However, as more and more coins came in, he found himself feeling… Bigger, stronger, and good all over his aching body.

[2crtz]

⊹₊⟡⋆ MY KNIGHT, SHINING.

CHARACTERS: capitano x f!readers

WARNINGS: sfw. SYNOPSIS: with flower arrangements showing up at your doorstep from an anonymous sender, you’re curious who this admirer was and why they are being so secretive.

WORD COUNT: 1.699  A/N: i disappeared for 6 months and came back writing for my man. nothings changed

Watching the knights gleaming in their armor in preparation for their jousting battle, you've been captivated by the clamor of blades sharply hitting against each other.

Standing on the sidelines, your eyes fixed upon the men dressed in steel, your heart raced, sending a surge of adrenaline through your veins as their blades shyly miss their opponents vital points.

One knight had captured your sights, infiltrating your thoughts. He stands out from the rest, tall and proud even among his opponents. The undefeated, the one whose strength seemed a shadows of the Gods, The Captain.

Seeing him face his rivals, effortlessly using his strengths to take them down left you utterly infatuated in this dangerous sport. You cleared your schedule to watch him, canceling plans and devoted your time for him.

When you weren't spending majority of your time out watching knights, you found solace in your quiet home library, immersing yourself in romance novels. Other times, you were out with friends.

As you were rereading a favorite novel, a sudden knock at your front door shattered you from the fantasy world in your head, abruptly pulling you back to reality. Closing the book and walking to answer, you found that no one was standing there.

Confused, you slowly shut the door, but something caught your eye. Opening it fully once again, you noticed the bouquet of flowers sitting on your doorstep. Bending down, you carefully pick them up.

Inspecting the strange gift, you found no note or any hint who might've sent them.

"Who could've sent me these?" you murmured to yourself, carrying the bouquet to the kitchen to place them in a vase. No one had shown an interest in you before, which made this gift all the more puzzling.

No matter the reason, you happily accepted the present with a smile and displayed them in the windowsill for all to see.

────

The flowers continued to show up, week after week, always on the same day and at the same time. No name was ever attached, just a mysterious gift, leaving you to wonder who could be behind them.

It got to the point that you've began to stalk near the window, waiting for the person to show. One day, you got close enough to catch the delivery man.

"Do you know who sends these?" you asked , carrying the flowers.

The man merely shook his head, his expression neutral. "I do not. The sender requested to remain anonymous."

There goes that.

At this point you doubted you'll ever know who sends you these beautiful arrangements.

────

As the season transitioned to spring, you found yourself confined in your home most days from the pollen. Allergy season proved to be utterly rude, causing you to miss out on your favorite activities, in particular, the one that involved knights.

However, the flowers did manage to brighten your days. But it wasn't until this particular arrangement arrived that you finally saw a note tucked underneath the petals. As you read the words, your eyes widened, and your heart skipping a beat.

The note read-- "I have missed seeing you in the stands"

A viewer? Commentator? or even-- no, it cannot be.

A knight?

Who else could possibly see you in the stands? Without any solid evidence, you could not pin-point who in the world might've written you this, or even sent these flowers all along.

With the thought of figuring out who've sent you your presents, going to the fights was the key to your mystery.

By the end of the week, you found yourself in the stands, eyes keen and mind clear of solving the missing piece of this puzzle. The weather in Khaenri’ah was warm on this day, nothing but a slight breeze to cool off the bystanders, waiting— anticipating— for the knights to ride out on their houses.

As the day went on and the fight coming to a close, you sat in your seat disappointed that you could not find who have sent you the flowers. Perhaps all you needed to do was ask the knights, however the thought sent shivers down your spine.

There was no way you could face the knights without fan-girling.

The crowd grew thin, only you and some who were chatting amongst their friends. You stared off into the sky, tired of this mystery. This person had to make themselves known or you’ll lose your mind.

Standing up from your seat and walking out the arena, your footsteps were loud— and sounded clucky?

Those possibly could not be your steps. Peering your head over your shoulder, you saw a figure, all in black whose height reached the heavens.

It was a knight, but not any knight— it was him.

Your eyes widened as his figure grew larger in your sight, his pace quickening. “Miss— please wait.” his tone was deep, causing multiple reactions to occur within your body.

A confusing feeling of confusion and delusion brewed. Why on earth would The Captain follow you, and is he the mystery sender?

My admirer…?

In no possible simulation or alternate universe.

You paused in your step and turned your body towards him, not being able to face him. “Yes?” your tone was quiet, barely capable of finding your voice.

The slowly he approached, towering over you. “I hope you enjoyed the show.”

Looking up at him, a slight smile growing. “Oh, yes. It was very entertaining. I am quite fond of the sport.”

He chuckled, eyes lowering to the floor before back into yours. “Yes, I am aware.” Oh, so he's aware that you're into the sport?

You continued to ponder over the thought of the if. What if he is him.

Capitano took note of your pause and decided to speak up. "I hope you liked the flowers. It had become slightly difficult finding new flowers to gift you."

And just like that, you felt your heart skip another beat, the air that was once help hostage in your lung being forced out of you, and you stood there, feeling like you were living in a dream.

With your lips parting slightly, tongue finding the courage to move and respond to him, you felt yourself speechless.

Never once have you thought a man would have you search for the right words, but how can you? The man before you had been in the silent chambers of your mind, always lingering, haunting your every thought.

The silence stretched between you until you felt your words stumbling out. "The flowers, they were your gift?" Eyes looking everywhere but his helmet. How blessed you felt for the barrier between you.

"Were they not to your liking?"

"No-- I mean yes, but why?" Your voice wavered, not wanting to misinterpret this, to spin a false narrative. The last thing you wanted was to be painted as a fool.

The knight answered without hesitation, his voice a low rumble. "You have captured my attention." He lowered his head, as if he amused himself. You could almost hear the unspoken laughter in his voice.

Beneath that metal helmet, you imagined his lips curling upwards, etching his face with a smile.

"Watching you in the stands," He began, tone dropping, "that gleaming look in your eyes, on the edge of your seat as you witness every clash of my sword, is what drives me for success." When he lifted his face, all that were visible were his eyes, one glowing a cerulean gleam.

Your gaze traced the broad lines of his armored form, lingering on the way his weight shifted subtly towards you. You studied him, watching every movement, until you noticed the faint twitch in his gauntleted hand, fingers flexing as if they ached to close the distance between you.

The realization sent a flush in your face, he burned to touch you, to feel you beneath the tips of his finger.

"If I may," he murmured, tone slipping into something warmer as his fingers reached to the hem of his helmet. With deliberately long upwards tilt, revealed the curve of his lips, exactly how you imagined. "would you do me the honor of granting a knight his good luck kiss?"

A laugh escaped you before you could stifle it. "Your next match isn't until tomorrow."

"Practice kiss." He leaned closer to your face, his voice getting softer. His scent infiltrated your senses, causing a short high, getting you addicted to his presence.

His lips barely ghosting yours, pausing before he could place them upon yours. "My dreams have become reality from this moment alone." He confessed, words grazing your mouth like a prayer. Covered hands slowly brought to the lining of your jaw. "I would strip every garden in this kingdom bare if it meant I have even a drop of your affection."

"Then make your dreams a reality." This newfound confidence buzzed within you, words that were bolder than you. You tilted your head upwards, an invitation for him.

"Gladly."

No hesitation. No knightly decorum. Just a starving man ready to devour his meal.

His kiss was soft, not a crushing demand of a warrior, but one that was devastatingly tender.

The fairytale that you've created in your head was slowly unraveling in reality. The journey of figuring out the culprit, stalking them down, and rendered the search futile was what you had expected, but being kissed by The Captain, Capitano, the man who's strength shadowed the gods, was not.

And yet, you found yourself relishing his taste. You barely had time to melt into the kiss before the warmth of his mouth slowly drew away, leaving a cool absence.

The steel of his helmet was slid back into place, shielding his smile from you. He took a step back, standing large before you. The dying sunlight glinted off his armor like a promise.

"Be in the stands tomorrow. I intend on finishing our unfinished business." His voice carried the weight of a vow.

And like that, we was gone, leaving you breathless while your skin still humming where he'd touched you. The words coiled low in your stomach, bringing a child-like smile to your face. Tomorrow, you'll watch your knight crave another victory for you.

do not edit, modify, or republish.

[endlessapples]

Summer's Paradise | 3 The Heat

xia yizhou | caleb x reader

synopsis:

Waking up in a different world where you have to pretend you have amnesia to get by is one thing. Waking up in a different world where you're married to a complete stranger and have to pretend you have amnesia is another.Yet, this stranger seems to know you well. Too well. And with everything this world seems to be hiding from you, he's the only one you can bring yourself to trust.But when distrust wedges itself between you and your newfound connection with this stranger-turned-husband, you begin to doubt if you can ever find a way to leave this world and return back to yours.

tags: smut (mention of masturbation, slight voyeurism), amnesia, eventual forced imprisonment, transmigration, yandere!caleb, dark!caleb, domestic fluff (weirdly enough), manipulation, themes of forceful confinement, slight angst, married!au

word count: 5.6k

1 the warmth | 2 the smoke | 3 the heat

Dr. Zayne has the same exact voice as he did in this body’s memory. You reach out for the remote and turn the volume up.

“Is there any advice that you would recommend to our viewers?” the male anchor beams. The young doctor sitting next to him gives a dry smile.

“Yes, make sure to focus on incorporating regular exercise into your daily routine. Health is not something that you can easily regain once you have lost it,” the doctor—no, Dr. Zayne, you clarify in your head—speaks.

Well, one thing for sure is that the co-anchor was right. Dr. Zayne is handsome. While Caleb is boyishly gorgeous, this Dr. Zayne is a mature type of good-looking that attracts attention, even if he tries to stay on the periphery.

“Now, I suppose this really isn’t the main purpose of this interview, but our viewers are just dying to know. Do you have a special someone that might be watching today’s show?” the anchor presses on.

Anyone would have been uncomfortable with the sudden prying. You lean forward, waiting to hear the answer.

Dr. Zayne looks at the camera, and his lips flatten into a straight line. But even though anyone could have interpreted his look as mild annoyance at the personal question, somehow, a part of you saw it for what it was: sadness.

“It seems if I were to have someone like that to me...well, it would seem that person might have gone somewhere far away.”

For some odd reason, you have a weird gut feeling that he might be talking about you. But what did he mean by that? You were alive and well. Did the two of you fall apart? Or even worst, was this relationship between the two of you just some weird figment of your imagination?

The anchor nods his head then. Based on his awkward expression, you’re certain that it wasn’t the answer he had been looking for.

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

Dr. Zayne doesn’t even acknowledge the statement. He just gazes away, as if his mind is on a different matter.

Good, you think, a surge of protectiveness boiling in you. That’s what you get for asking an unprofessional question!

“Well, that concludes our interview with Akso Hospital’s Dr. Zayne Li. We’ll be talking about the current rise in Wanderer appearances when we come back and safety guidelines that can help you keep yourself and your family safe.”

When the tv flicks to commercials, you sit there deep in thought. Wrapping your arms around your legs, you prop your chin on your knees.

And then, you go searching for your phone.

You find it charging in the bedroom. You are certain that it wasn’t you who had plugged it in. Most likely Caleb had done so while you were asleep.

You unlock the phone. And then you open a browser. You hesitate before searching for the incognito feature—luckily, it exists.

Akso Hospital Zayne Li.

Articles mentioning his name pop up. It’s in your brief scan of those articles that you see more images of him appear. You even stumble upon a fan page for him by medical students.

One comment reads: I prayed to Dr. Zayne before my exam and got a 100! Tears of blood streamed down my face lol.

Another comment reads: The one time I didn’t pray to Dr. Zayne and I failed my exam...After that I learned my lesson...!

You laugh at that. Well, you could see why a desperate student would pray to him for help. He does seem like the type that would garner a cult following.

And then an idea pops up in your head. You go into your contacts. Maybe he’ll be in there?

But there’s only one number.

Caleb.

Disappointment seeks its teeth into you. Were you just delusional then? Did you make up that memory?

Your head begins to hurt again. You roll a knuckle over your forehead, closing your eyes. Whatever, this isn't for you to figure out. Whatever issues arose between your current body and this mysterious Dr. Zayne was for the original soul to figure out, whenever fate decided that it had enough fun throwing random souls into alternate universes and decided to switch the two of you back your rightful places.

And even somehow importantly, was your only friend Caleb? Sure, you didn’t have many friends in your world—most of them had moved on with their own things after university, and now your socializing primarily consisted of mundane chatter with coworkers twice your age. Did you have no friends here too?

You think of the picture of the you of this world, beaming at the camera with an ease that you could never find yourself carrying.

You scrunch your nose at the thought. For some odd reason, it doesn’t sit easy with you.

Your phone buzzes then with a message.

Did you eat breakfast yet?

You pause. The congee and youtiao are still outside in the living room, basically untouched. You type out a reply.

I got the delivery...but I think I got too invested in watching tv...Why did I look down and it was suddenly cold?

Right after you send the message, his reply comes in quickly.

You can’t skip breakfast.

An apple emoji ends his message, and it looks up at you with a disapproving stare, one hand on its hip. You can almost imagine him in the same position, ready to scold you. You let out a giggle.

Another message pops up from him.

What were you watching?

Your smile slips. Should you ask him?

Your fingers hesitate over the screen for a brief moment. You purse your lips and then type your message out.

Just some news. Heard it’s supposed to be warm this afternoon :D

You sigh and hit send.

His reply is quick: Are you sure you still want to eat hot pot today then?

Your nose wrinkles, and you frantically type out another message: Of course!

Okay...I’ll bring us to our usual spot then. You just wait.

Another message whooshes in.

I gotta go now. I’ll see you soon.

Three dots pop up on his end. And then it disappears. No message comes in. What was he going to say? You shut off your phone. Your stomach grumbles then, a protest that you hadn’t eaten breakfast. Whatever, you’ll just heat up your breakfast.

🍏🍎

Caleb comes home at exactly 2pm. When you go up to greet him, you see that strands of his hair are stuck to his forehead in sweat, and on instinct, you reach up to brush them away.

He stiffens then, slightly. You realize what you did too late and hurriedly pull your hand away.

He grabs your hand then, his hold gentle. “Didn’t mean I didn’t like it. But don’t I smell gross?”

You relax at that, letting out a laugh at that before teasing, “Maybe a little.”

He does an exaggerated sniff of himself and then feigns backing away from you. But his touch is still on you. He’s needy. “Whoa, let me take a shower then. And then we’ll go.” There’s a teasing glint in his eyes.

You laugh again and then take a step closer to ruffle his hair with your other hand. His eyelids lower, and you might’ve seen an imaginary large tail from him thwacking around. “You know, you didn’t have to rush home so early. I’m sure the matters at the Fleet were more important.”

A little part of you is glad that he came home early. Sure, you had always been the independent type—the kind that could spend days by yourself with no one checking up on you, and you were fine with it. But you had gotten accustomed to having Caleb around almost every hour.

“They’re not that important. Not when it comes to you. They can handle some time without me there anyways,” he murmurs, reaching out to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you closer, “Snakes always find a way to entertain themselves in the dirt after all.”

You frown. You haven’t heard this kind of language from Caleb before. Sure, he didn't seem like he quite enjoyed his work at the Fleet, with the way his lips always seemed to be pressed in a disgruntled line, but to this extent? “Is it really that horrible there? Can’t you change your workplace?”

He takes a whiff of your hair. “Did you shower earlier? Smells nice.”

You can’t see the expression he’s making, but you have a feeling he’s changing the subject, and you let him. You let Caleb get away with a lot of things. And in this case, maybe work contracts are near impossible to get out of. It’s the same with your real world. Right?

You huff out an exaggerated sigh then. “Mm-hm. And it looks like you should hop into one now. While you shower, I’ll get changed. I’m itching to get outside.”

He laughs and nuzzles your skin one more time before letting go, reluctantly. “I’ll follow your orders, Captain.”

He comes back out when he’s done to you lazing around on the sofa. You had changed into a yellow sundress pretty quickly, and it had been boring waiting for Caleb to be done with the shower. You’re almost about to doze off, and he snaps you awake with a prod on your cheek. You let out a dazed murmur, wiping away the drool at the corner of your mouth, before a familiar scent hits your nose. It’s apple-y and fresh and well...familiar. You think of the green bottle in the shower then and squint your eyes at him. “Did you use my body wash?”

He grins playfully. “Uh, you mean our body wash right. We always use the same stuff. Now come on, time’s a-ticking and I’m getting hungry.”

You roll your eyes at him and feign to roll away from him and onto your side.

“Whoa!” you let out a shriek when you start floating in the air. Your legs are splayed out awkwardly, and you fumble to keep your skirt over your legs. You whip your head back to glare at him. When you notice that his gaze can’t seem to leave the bare skin of your thighs, your glare intensifies.

Right, you forgot that the people in this world had fucking superpowers or Evols or whatever the fuck they called it. And Caleb’s happened to be gravity. Of fucking course. You remember him using it at the hospital when you had almost dropped something and he had stopped it from falling.

What was your superpower then? And could you use it against this man, as much of a menace he is?

He’s already set you in a seated position before you can let out a spiel of curse words fly out of your mouth. Your cheeks are puffed out in annoyance as you begin to wag an angry finger. “Hey, hey, foul play-!”

He lets out a laugh, interrupting your burst. And then he’s grabbing your foot with one hand and tucking it into a pair of sandals that he got from who knows where. Even though you let him, you give him another glare as he fixes the straps in place. When he’s done, he looks up at you and gives you a boyish grin. “Ready to go?”

You have half a mind to continue to be angry at him. But your breakfast really had not been that great when you heated it up and the thought of hot pot—something familiar and comforting—was making your stomach grumble and you really were itching to be outside. And you have a feeling that he might use his Evol to have you float after him to your destination.

Then it seems like he’s remembered something important. He fishes through his pocket and pulls out a sparkling band from his pocket. Your heart lurches at the sight. It’s the ring you hid. Or is it? You see that it’s sparkling new, unlike the one that you had found. “Where’d you get that?” you force the words to leave your suddenly dry throat.

He glances up, and your eyes meet. “Just got it back from the shop today. I guess you already forgot what I told you yesterday.”

You purse your lips, heart thrumming nervously in your chest, as he beckons for you to give him his hand. You move stiffly, and before you know it, the ring is already on your finger. It glints at you, almost mockingly.

“Now everyone will know we’re married.” He dips his head down and presses a soft kiss against the ring. There’s that look again in his eyes. Your heart stutters in your chest—not out of anxiety this time but out of something else. Something you can’t quite understand yourself.

You hop to your feet before he can do anything else, and in a flash, you’re by the front door. Turning back to him, who’s still kneeling on the floor in a daze, you jut your chin towards the outdoors, feigning a mocking grin. “Hurry up, or I’m gonna leave you behind!”

You run off, his laugh echoing behind you, and as you’re about to turn out of the neighborhood, you feel a tug from behind. He’s caught up to you easily.

“Do you even know where you’re going?” he asks.

“Uhhh...” You sheepishly smile. “No.”

He grins before reaching out and grasping your hand. Looping your fingers together, he tugs you to the left. “Can’t have you getting lost. Come on, follow me, Pipsqueak.”

You let a disgruntled murmur out, but you don’t even attempt to take your hand out of his grip. As he tugs you along, you pause and gape. As similar as this world is to yours, this world is also different. The streets are crowded at this time with families and couples and student friend groups, even though this would usually be the time where everyone is away and busy. Despite how high-tech all the buildings surrounding you are, you still let an impressed oo when you stumble upon a vendor selling sticks of candied hawthorn.

You turn and give pitiful eyes to Caleb, tugging on the hem of the casual jean jacket he’s thrown over his clothes.

“You’re going to ruin your appetite.”

You glance at the sparkling crystalized exterior of the candy, fighting back the urge to drool, before turning back to tug on his hem again, more insistently this time.

The vendor, an old man, lets out a guffaw at that. “Come on, young man, you should spoil your beautiful wife.”

You flush at that. A glance at Caleb shows that his ears are tinged red as well. And then a mischievous idea creeps up in your mind.

Before you can stop yourself, you’re pressing up to his side. You notice his eyes flick down towards the gape in your neckline and then flick back up, and his face turns even more red.

“If each of us eat half, our appetite won’t be ruined. Hubby, buy it for me.” You use a coquettish tone that would normally have you throwing up a bit in your mouth (and you do, just a little). But for the sake of your target (a snack), you are willing to do almost anything to have it.

In a flash, the stick of candy is already in your hand, and Caleb has already paid for it. You take a large bite, in awe at the crunch. It’s both sweet and tart. Delighted, you beam up at Caleb. “Thank you, Caleb.”

He nods, and his hand is back around your free hand. You beckon the half-bitten hawthorn up at him playfully. “Wanna try?”

He looks frantic, and you almost feel bad for messing with the guy so much. But then he takes a bite and chews it. “It’s good.”

“Are the two of you recently married? It looks like you’re in the honeymoon stage right now.” the vendor comments. You turn, and your mouth opens, about to answer, when it clamps shut. Right, you don’t know. You don’t know because this isn’t your place. Is it possible to feel like the other woman when the woman in the relationship and the other woman are both...you? You wilt a bit at the thought.

Caleb answers. “We’ve been married for just a few months.” His hold on your hand tightens, and you almost wince, before his hold becomes gentle again. “But even in twenty, thirty, fifty, seventy years, I still will be more than happy every day as long as I’m with her...Even in another word or in another life.”

The vendor looks at him in surprise before letting out a laugh. “Young man, how romantic! Well, I hope the two of you have a prosperous marriage!” He then winks at you. “You have a good catch.”

You bashfully nod at that.

Caleb speaks again. “No, I’m the lucky one.” He pauses. “I worked hard to be with her.”

You feel Caleb’s gaze on you. The skin of your neck prickles with heat, and you know you can’t look at him right now. You tug him away from the stand quickly after bidding a quick thank you to the vendor.

And then you realize you don’t actually know which way you’re going. Again. You turn back to him, your eyes averted. “Um, where’s the hot pot place again?”

“You’re asking me? I thought you were leading the way,” his tone is teasing. You’re about to make a quip back when you hear a shrill scream.

“Wanderer! Help!”

You look up, startled. A crowd rushes in your direction, and before you know it, Caleb’s grasp on your hand has loosened. And your hawthorn candy has fallen somewhere, most likely crushed underfoot.

When you gather your wits, you take a quick look around at your new surroundings. And realize with a rush of anxiety that Caleb is gone.

🍏🍎

You’re lost. Hopelessly lost.

As you grope for your phone, you realize with a groan that you had left it in Caleb’s pocket earlier because you didn’t have pockets. At least one thing was majorly consistent between the two worlds—the lack of functionality in women’s clothing.

You have two choices: stay where you are and hope he finds you or go and try to find him yourself.

But the idea of staying out in the open when there’s a wanderer around...well that doesn’t sit right for you either. A part of you itches to go and find where it is.

Before you can stop yourself, you’re already wandering off. Even though it’s entirely foolish and impulsive and you don’t have any weapons on you, you can’t stay still. Not when you’re almost certain that you could somehow solve the issue. 

Key word, somehow.

If only had your gun.

The thought scares you the moment it enters your mind. You hadn't even played with the toy guns back in your world, but here, your fingers itch to find something usually tucked into your side that's missing.

You think back on it—really, you should just go hide and wait for it to be safe and hope that Caleb finds you.

And then you hear another scream in the distance. It sounds inhumane, like it's from some creature. Before you know it, you’re already running towards the direction of the sound in classic horror-movie-character-who-gets-killed-in-the-first-act style.

You pause outside of the alleyway where the scream had originated from. There’s no sound of a scuffle inside it, not any that you can pick up at least. But instead, two voices are speaking. And you recognize one of them. You peek in, cautiously. And immediately press yourself back out.

Caleb’s back is to you. From your brief glance, you can see that he’s speaking with another man, if that term is right. The man seems almost snake-like, with green hair and words that spill out of his mouth in a cruel sss. And there’s bits and pieces of something smoldering around the ground.

You identify it almost immediately, as if on instinct. It’s a protocore.

Even as close as you are, you can’t clearly hear what they’re saying.

“Wanderer...Attack...Plan...Whose idea?” You pick up these words from Caleb.

“Fool...plan...that girl...sssupposed...dead...Immoral!”

And then you hear a loud crash, as if someone’s body was flung against the brick wall. You peer back in urgently. The green snake man is gone. Save for a pile of crushed trash cans and for the fact that the protocore fragments on the ground are gone, there’s no evidence that he was in there in the first place. And fortunately, Caleb looks unharmed.

You realize that he’s turning back. Your mind races with thoughts on what to do.

Quickly, you take several steps back before propelling yourself forward. You let your body crash into his as he emerges from the alley.

“Caleb!” you let out a gasp, hoping that whatever emotion is showing on your face looks close to relief. And you are relieved, save for your confusion at whatever the hell that interaction was, “There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you!”

He looks surprised to see you. And for a moment, suspicion prickles in his eyes. In a second, that emotion is gone, and he’s looking at you in relief, scanning you to make sure you’re unharmed. “I’ve been looking for you.” His voice is even, showing no indication that there was anything happening. “I’m sorry to dash your hot pot dreams, but we should head home until the wanderer situation is resolved. I’m assuming the restaurant is closing down for the day because of the news.”

If you weren’t on edge, you might have not spotted his eyes glimpse around like he’s checking to make sure there’s nothing around.

You wonder, almost aimlessly, at how bizarre it feels to be lying to this man and to know that he too is lying to you.

But for some reason, you let him lie to you. You have no choice. He’s the only one you can trust. And you want to trust him.

You weakly smile. “Yeah, Caleb. Let’s go home. Maybe you can make those chicken wings again? And we can try again another day?”

He relaxes a bit. For real this time. But the tension is still there in his shoulders and in his grip as he clasps your hand again. You feel the band of your wedding ring pinch, just slightly.

Your smile almost slips from your face.

Home. For you, that word too is a lie.

🍏🍎

You and Caleb don’t speak any further about the wanderer incident. Instead, there’s an evening routine for the two of you, one that you find yourself settling in easily. You flick on what you had termed our show earlier. Caleb has the pieces of a model kit spread on a table. The two of you jokingly bicker when he starts to hog the project, and you pretend to settle in a huff next to him on the floor (but really, you were more interested in watching partly the rest of the episode and partly him focusing in on the airplane model—something about a man locked in on a goal...well, you had to admit it was very attractive).

In fact, he’s maybe too attractive. He’s changed his clothes earlier to a plain blue shirt and sweatpants, and the necklace is hanging around his neck, dangling into the collar. But for some reason, something simple on any other man looks model-like on him. Before you can stop yourself, you’re pressing closer to him, trying to not drool out of your mouth.

He’s not really noticing your sudden shift, not when his fingers are moving at warp speed to piece together the model. Something that should take a week to put together is effortlessly coming together in just over an hour. You look at his fingers. Really, you shouldn’t be this hot and bothered.

You let out a puff of air, blowing a strand of your hair out of your face. And then you settle a coy hand on his thigh, leaning into whisper into his ear. “You sure you don’t want any help?”

He stiffens under your touch. You see his Adam’s apple bob up and down. “Hmm,” his voice is thick, “And how do you suggest you help?”

You let out a soft hum. And then before you can stop yourself, you’ve pushed his chest back so that his back is against the front of the sofa and swung yourself across his lap so that you’re straddling him. He’s looking up at you, with an almost pitiful look in his eyes that makes you want to tease him further.

“Why don’t you tell me?” you tease, reaching out to cup his jaw with a hand.

And then his eyes sharpen, hungry. They flick down to your lips and linger there. His hands settle around your waist, the heat of his palms searing into your flesh. You lean down, your lips almost a breath away from his and...

The doorbell rings. You throw yourself off him, landing on the carpet next to him with a soft thump. He narrows his eyes at the door.

“I’ll check who it is. Why don’t you take a bit of a break in our room?”

You nod. There’s an edge to his voice, one that he gets whenever it was associated with the Fleet. Whoever it was on the other side of the door—well, whoever it was, they didn’t sound like good news. You’re already closing the door behind you when he opens the front door.

You hear the intruders move into the common room. Caleb’s voice follows them, muffled through the door. “If there’s anything urgent for us to discuss now, it should’ve been a call.”

“Colonel.” A voice speaks. Your ears prickle at the sound. Even though it should be unfamiliar, a part of you almost feels like you’ve heard it before. There’s a tingle behind your forehead, and you close your eyes, trying to focus in on it. “We just wanted to check to see how you were faring. After the incident that happened one year ago and hearing about the amount of leave you’ve taken these past few weeks, we wanted to be...cautious.”

Another voice speaks. “Well, it seems like you’re busy.” It pauses, for a very long time. “Do you have someone else here?”

Your breath gets caught in your throat. You stiffen, afraid to be caught, even though there’s no way for you to be seen. You remember, almost belatedly, that you had left your pair of sandals outside by the front door.

Caleb speaks, his voice low. “No, as you can see, it’s just me here.”

The second voice speaks. Its voice is hushed. “I apologize for the personal question. We’ll take our leave now.” There’s another pause, brief this time. “You know, we never were really able to express our condolences about last year. W--.”

“Time passes. We all learn to deal with it in different ways. I appreciate the concern, but it’s getting late,” Caleb interrupts.

You hear their footsteps creak on the floorboards and then the sound of the front door closing shut.

You back up away from the bedroom door, searching for something to focus on. But before you can do anything, the door opens.

Caleb walks into the room. There’s a stiffness to him. He feels unstable, and his eyes seem murky, like he can’t even see what’s in front of him. And then he sees you.

You step forward, cautiously.

Before you can say anything, he’s advanced towards you. You can’t fully read the expression on his face, but he looks agonized, like a wounded animal. You take a step back, tentative. And then another one. But he keeps chase. Right before he can close the gap, he stops himself. His fingers flex next to him, and you see that his chest is puffing out ragged breaths.

You step forward, this time. “Are you...,” your voice is soft and uncertain, “Are you alright?”

He lets in a shaky breath. “Please,” he exhales. You look up at him, hesitant, and then nod.

And then his mouth is on you. He’s dragged you so that the two of you are pressed firmly together. His hands press against your hips, and his fingers are already traveling up under your shirt. You let out a whimper as he nips your bottom lip, opening up your mouth in invitation, and his tongue enters your mouth.

Something wet splashes against your skin. You stiffen underneath his touch. Is he crying?

His fingers are up against your back at the clasp of your bra. You tremble at the heat of his palm against the sensitive skin of your back.

You’re suddenly moving too fast. You can’t breathe. You reach up and press Caleb’s chest away, but he seems like he isn’t even here with you anymore. You push again, more firm this time, and try to back away. Your right leg twists. You’re falling back, knocking against the wall of plushies.

He breaks away from you just in time to catch you. But it’s too late for the collision—the plushies come tumbling down in a cascade.

You look up at him with teary eyes, your cheeks flushed. “Caleb,” you breathe in air roughly, “Are you alright?”

There’s that look in his eyes again—like he’s seeing you, but at the same time not seeing you. There are dried tears on his cheeks. He’s distraught. And then his gaze clears. He’s seeing you, properly this time.

“I’m...,” he takes a step back, dragging his hand down his face in defeat. “I’m sorry. I...can’t trust myself with you right now. I’ll...I’ll sleep outside today.”

He turns his back to you and is already on his way out of the room.

You reach a hand out. “Caleb, please. Wait, please just explain to me--.”

The door clicks shut behind you.

You drop to your knees, winded. Your head is beginning to hurt again, and that awful pain is prickling again in your chest. And then you catch a glint, one that exactly matches that of the ring around your finger.

You flick your gaze to the door. Did he see it?

And then you hang your head down, burying your face in your hands, and let out a sound that sounds like a fragile mixture of an exhale and a sob.

You can’t keep doing this, can you?

🍏🍎

You wake up, alone in the bed, in the middle of the night. You don’t know how you got to sleep, but you did. When you had stepped out in the living room earlier, hoping to talk to him, you had found that Caleb had disappeared. In that state?

You had called him, but each time, he had let it go to voicemail. You had tried to wait for him, but it had gotten late, and before you knew it you fell asleep.

But now that you’ve heard a sound in the common room, you hastily hurry out of bed. Sure, the middle of the night is never ideal for a conversation, but at least you have to make sure that he returned back safe and unharmed.

You’re about to open the door when you hear a soft murmur through the door. A gasp of your name. A soft, husky whine. And then you realize, your cheeks furiously burning, what exactly he’s doing on the sofa you were sleeping on earlier. You close your eyes, trying to imagine the sight on the other side of the door.

Caleb, his cheeks rosy, with his hand around his leaking cock. Caleb, with his head tilted back, murmuring your name in desperation. Your head is dizzy with your own imagination.

And then you hear a soft grunt and a sigh.

There’s a heat prickling in your gut, not unfamiliar. You force yourself to snap out of it.

You know what, you’ll try talking to him tomorrow. Not now, when the image of a flash of his abs as he strokes himself to completion keeps popping up in your mind.

You hear the floorboards creak under his feet, and then the door of the guest bathroom closing. You hurriedly lay back down in the bed, burying your tomato-red face in the pillow.

You shut your eyes tightly, your heartbeat racing in your chest, as you hear him emerge from the bathroom...and walk by the bedroom door.

You relax, relieved that he didn’t decide to come into the bedroom. Though the bed did seem a little too large and cold without him there, the idea of him, his body heat, after everything that happened today and tonight...well, you just didn’t quite know what to think about it.

You roll onto your other side, reaching out for your phone. The website that you had left on pops open, and Dr. Zayne’s face appears in front of you again.

You click on the Akso Hospital website link. Searching through the directory of doctors, you find Dr. Zayne’s unsmiling picture easily.

Whatever had been referred to as last year’s incident and whatever had caused you to remember this Dr. Zayne (real memory or not), you couldn’t help being curious about. Who knows, you might be of help to the you of this world, whenever she decides to return.

Maybe in finding out more about this Dr. Zayne, you might have an idea of what exactly brought you into this world.

You take another glance at the bedroom door.

And then you hit contact us.

An error pops up the moment the number pops up. You try to press the contact us again, and the screen freezes, not letting you open the page. But when you try to search something else up, your phone acts normal, like it's supposed to.

After several failed attempts, you turn off your phone and set it to the side, frustrated.

You’ll try again tomorrow. And if it doesn’t work then, you’ll just keep trying again and again. But for some sinking reason, you have a feeling that the end result will be the same as it was today.

Futile.

A/N: apologies for the delay! lots happened (including food poisoning...yikes!), so we're steadily recovering... but the pace for this story is definitely amping up in this chapter! I actually wrote half of this chapter pre-food poisoning and the other half post-food poisoning, so hopefully it's not disjointed...I hope you guys stick around for the rest of the ride :D

[richardgrimes]

We're gonna have a surge of viewers tuning in to see the woman that was thrown into an asylum and I would like for them to see a journalist. ANNA TORV as Helen Norville in THE NEWSREADER 🎥 Season 3

[beausling]

PUSSY STAINS ON MY STAFF

quick little drabble thing cus i’m having these thoughts n feelings and i really just need to get them out there..

warnings: pure smutty filth, porn without plot, sub!dean, puppyboy!dean, dom!fem!reader, mommy kink, bouncing on it, jackin each others shit, rubbing things together n gettin it all sticky, thigh riding, nipple sucking (f & m receiving), pet names (mommy, puppy, pretty boy, etc.), not proof read cus they never are, uhh i think thats all but idk my brain is Soo soupy rn

all work is mine, please do not steal/plagiarize, repost anywhere, or translate without my permission. likes and reblogs are welcome and appreciated!!!

18+ CONTENT, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, VIEWER DISCRETION ADVISED!

you desperately held back your own moans, just so that you could hear dean’s pretty whimpers as you rode him into the sun.

his big hands scrambling for purchase, touching you anywhere he could reach; your hips, your ass, your thighs, your breasts.

but you couldn’t hold back anymore as he surged forward, sucking one of your hard nipples into his mouth. it always made your brain go fuzzy, turned you into just as much of a mess as he was.

an idea sparked as your fingers threaded through his short locks. where you would normally grip on and shove him harder into your chest, this time you pulled him away, looking down at him with dark, heavy lidded eyes as a smirk pulled at your lips.

“mommy, please, let me-“ dean began begging, but you cut him off. “i wanna try somethin’ new,” you said, slowing down in your movements. “that okay?”

he just nodded in response, like an eager little puppy, so desperate to please.

you fully stilled your hips, slowly rising off his dick with a groan and letting it slip out of your sloppy cunt. his whines of protest filled your ears.

“shhh, s’okay, puppy.” you cooed softly, “‘m gonna make you feel so good. can you lay back f’me?” he immediately obliged, shifting slightly to lay comfortably against the pillows.

you moved once he was in position, one knee going between his legs while the other stayed beside his hip, leaning down and pressing soft, wet kisses up his tummy, to his chest, his neck, before going back down, all the while he was squirming underneath you.

“stay still, pup.” you command gently, warm breath fanning over his slick skin as your lips moved across his chest, stopping at one of his nipples.

you glanced up at him through your lashes, a grinch-like smirk gracing your face before you stuck your tongue out, and began laving at his pink, puffy nipple, watching his reaction; the way his eyebrows furrowed, and his mouth fell open — it told you all you needed to know.

dean was enjoying this.

you licked rougher, more insistently, nipping gently at the sensitive flesh and sucking it onto your mouth, listening to him gasp and whimper.

his pleasure had always been your pleasure, so hearing and seeing how he reacted to what you were doing made your stomach flutter.

you sucked harder, hips dropped down on top of his thigh as you moaned around his skin, grinding against him without even realizing it. this was just too good. you couldn’t get enough.

“mommy,” dean whined, one of his hands finding its way into your hair and grasping at the long locks. you simply moaned back in response, your eyes fluttered shut as you got lost in all the different sensations, rubbing your wet folds all over his plush thigh and making a mess.

soon you moved over, giving the same attention to the other nipple. and dean was absolutely losing his mind — head thrown back, eyes rolled to the back of his head, back arching slightly.

one of your hands drifted down between your bodies, fingers wrapping around his still hard cock and beginning to slowly jerk him off, feeling him twitch in your hand as his body shuddered.

“wanna make you feel good, too.” you heard him murmur, and seconds later his hands were gripping tightly onto your hips, lifting them up off his thigh before slipping two thick fingers between your soaking folds.

your head lolled to the side, mouth coming off his chest as you let out a loud moan, hips twitching into his hand as he pressed down on your swollen clit, making fast circles. that made your hand move quicker on him in return.

“pretty boy,” you crooned, “feels s’good — you always make mommy feel so good. my good boy, perfect little puppy.” you babbled on in praises that you knew were sure to get him to release faster, still making it a point to take care of him, prioritizing his pleasure.

you went on and on that way, kissing, nipping and sucking at every piece of skin you could reach, murmuring soft praises in his ears, and moving your hand swiftly over his cock until you felt it start to twitch and pulse more persistently against your soft palm.

“you gonna cum, pup?”

“yeah,” dean whimpered, his hips canting up, chasing down his orgasm.

“c’mon, cum for mommy — all over my hand like a good boy.” you murmured against his stubbled jaw, pressing kiss after kiss to his skin. “cum for me, puppy.”

that really did him in. hips stuttering and his body tensing up, eyes fluttering and face scrunched up in bliss, back arching as he let out a loud, whiny groan, thick ropes of sticky white shooting out from the tip and dripping onto your hand, getting all over his tummy, and a bit on yours.

and his undoing was your own. shifting your position so that you were straddling him fully again, slotting his sloppy dick through your slick folds and grinding into him, creating the most sinful sounds. your clit bumped against his tip over and over again, breathy moans spilling out of your parted lips, going after your own high.

dean let out another loud whine, “i know. i know, pup.” it was clear he was becoming overstimulated. “jus’ a lil’ bit more. you want mommy’s cum, too, don’t you?” seeing him nod eagerly through your bleary gaze, and whine again.

a huffy groan of frustration left you, lifting your hips and lining him back up with your entrance, quickly skinning down and bouncing at a rough pace. planting one hand behind you and arching back as you moved, your other fingers found your clit and rubbed in tight circles, that familiar heat making itself known, low in your belly.

your own orgasm crashed over you faster than anticipated, body going rigid while that coil snapped, your walls clenching, before you gushed around dean, a loud, gasping moan tearing out of your throat.

it was always pure ecstasy with him.

falling into his chest once you finish, dean wrapped his strong arms around your waist, hugging you tightly to him as he pressed a kiss to your hairline, while you kissed all over his cheek, the corner of his eye, his temple.

“you did so good.” you praised softly against his skin, wrapping your own arms around him, nose nuzzling the side of his head. his hands ran slowly up and down your back, laying there silently in the aftermath for a moment.

“so, we found out two things today…” he mused, voice raspy from all the noise he’d been making.

a confused hum came from you in response.

“you, like sucking nipples…and i, like having my nipples sucked — apparently.” he said in a slightly sardonic, teasing tone, sending you into a fit of giggles.

my first actual fic in A MILLION YEARS.. hEllOOO😧🔥

also my first time myself writing like FULLLLL smut.. SO PLEASEEEEE don’t crucify me if it’s really bad like AT LEASTTT I TRIEDD😭

꩜ tags: @soldiersgirl @jasvtsc @deanswidow @titsout4jackles @jensenacklesballsack @bluemerakis @dirtylittlesinkrat @callsignwidow 🎀 comment to be removed from the taglist, or here to be added !!!

[deliciousangelfestival]

Change of Heart - 1 | Bucky

Character: Bucky x Female! Reader

Theme: Angst, tragedy, romance.

Summary: The interviewer asked her a provocative question:

“If you were offered a million dollars, would you leave your partner?”

Without hesitation, she replied with a smirk, “Give me one dollar, and I’ll leave him this second.”

True to her word, she walked away, leaving the man stunned and searching for answers. Now, he’s desperately trying to find her, grappling with the haunting question—why would she leave him so easily?

And is there more to her departure than a single dollar could ever explain?

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5.

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

By the way, I publish my book Arrogant Ex-Husband and Dad, I Can't Let You Go by Alina C. Bing on Kindle.

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Time changes everything. Interviews used to take place indoors, in studios, or in booked hotel rooms. The questions were serious—focused on economics, politics, or other weighty topics. Back then, only experts or public figures were deemed worthy of being interviewed.

But now, thanks to social media, interviews can happen anywhere. They’re no longer the domain of reporters or TV stations. Instead, anyone with a phone, a camera, and a microphone can conduct an impromptu interview in random places.

These spontaneous interviews often gain far more attention than their polished, scripted counterparts on TV. On the streets, people are asked silly, lighthearted questions, and their candid, often hilarious answers resonate more with viewers. They feel authentic and relatable, unlike the carefully curated responses of experts.

Some people never imagine their offhand comments will make them go viral. Take the girl who became famous overnight for her absurd response to a random question—she jokingly told someone to spit. It was ridiculous, but human nature is unpredictable. The absurdity drew millions of viewers, and just like that, she became an internet sensation.

Today, another viral moment is taking over the internet. The current trend? A simple, loaded question:

“If you were offered 1 million dollars, would you leave your partner?”

Many people, interviewed alongside their partners, responded with sweet or heartfelt answers. But one woman gave a response that stopped everyone in their tracks:

“Give me 1 dollar. I’ll leave him this second.”

And the interviewer handed her the one dollar.

Her comment sparked chaos online. Most people laughed, seeing it as a joke and sharing it for its sheer absurdity:

“LMAO, this girl is my spirit animal!”

“She’s not wrong, though. 😂 Relationships are overrated!”

“The audacity! 😂😂😂”

However, not everyone found it funny:

“This is what’s wrong with society—no loyalty anymore.”

“Imagine being her partner and seeing this. Yikes.”

“If this is how people think these days, I’ll stay single forever.”

But there was one man who didn’t find it amusing at all.

He replayed the video, his expression unreadable, though the tension in his jaw betrayed his anger. The room was silent except for the faint hum of his phone’s speaker. His piercing gaze flicked to the woman sitting across from him as the video looped again.

Bucky Barnes hadn’t paid attention to what was happening online. As the CEO of the Lena Group, a leader in car and chip manufacturing, his schedule left little time for distractions. It wasn’t until his secretary and his mother mentioned the viral uproar that he decided to investigate.

Watching the clip now, he felt a surge of disbelief. Shock. Anger. He had worked tirelessly to build his empire, and yet here she was, casually dismissing him with a joke to a stranger.

“So,” he said, his voice cold as he set the phone down on the table, “you think I’m worth one dollar?”

She didn’t flinch under his icy glare. Instead, she calmly lifted her teacup, taking a slow sip before setting it back down. Her movements were measured, deliberate, as if his words carried no weight.

Meeting his gaze, she tilted her head slightly, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. “Now that I think about it,” she said, her tone casual, “70% discount sounds fair.”

His grip on the phone tightened, his knuckles turning white. “What’s the meaning of this?” he demanded, leaning forward, his voice sharper now.

Her expression didn’t waver. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m tired, Bucky. I’ve had enough.”

The room felt heavier, the unspoken words between them thickening the air.

His jaw clenched as he let out a heavy sigh. “You’ve got to be joking.”

His eyes searched your face for any hint of humor, anything to suggest you didn’t mean it. But there was none. Only calm resolve.

He looked at you—the woman he had married two years ago. The truth was, this wasn’t an ordinary marriage. It was what people called a contract marriage. But to Bucky, it was just business. Marriages forged to benefit two businesses had existed for ages, after all.

The so-called marriage contract was simply a guideline—a formal agreement to ensure both parties understood the terms, what was acceptable and what wasn’t. Many people chose contract durations of three or six years before going their separate ways. But Bucky had kept it simpler: a one-year contract, renewable if his wife agreed.

The reason he opted for this arrangement was to avoid the casualties of love. He’d seen it firsthand—his parents, who had started with love, had eventually torn each other apart, not literally, but close enough to leave scars on everyone involved. It was enough to make Bucky swear off traditional marriage altogether.

But his grandfather had other plans. “If you don’t marry, you’ll never inherit the company,” his grandfather had declared, determined to ensure his legacy stayed within the family. Having watched his son—a serial adulterer—destroy the family’s reputation, the old man had become obsessed with the idea of keeping his grandson grounded.

Bucky, however, had no interest in marriage. He had no desire for emotional entanglements or the drama that came with them. Yet his grandfather’s ultimatum left him with no choice. If he wanted to lead the company, he had to marry.

That was when he turned to a matchmaker agency, one well-known among his wealthy peers. It wasn’t cheap, but the agency had stellar testimonials, and they assured him they could find the perfect partner.

And they did.

That’s where he met you. You, too, were looking for something unconventional. You weren’t interested in traditional marriage and came from a good family background, which made introducing you to his parents remarkably easy. Despite his parents’ separation, you navigated the introductions with grace, impressing his mother and, surprisingly, his father.

The wedding happened quickly. You were the ideal partner—easygoing, understanding, and undemanding. When the first year of the contract ended, Bucky asked if you wanted to continue. You had simply smiled and said, “Yes.”

To him, that was enough.

Two years had passed since then, and he thought everything was fine. You never complained, never asked for anything more than the life you had agreed upon. He thought you were content. He thought you were okay.

But now, standing before you on the last day of the contract, he couldn’t reconcile the image he had of your quiet satisfaction with your answer in that viral video.

He stared at you, confused and hurt. “Why did you say it?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. “Why give that answer? I thought everything was fine.”

You didn’t flinch. Instead, you glanced at your watch, casually checking the time. “I’m not,” you said, your voice calm, almost detached. “At 12 a.m., our marriage contract will be over. By tomorrow morning, I won’t be here.”

His mouth opened as if to protest, but no words came out. He reached for the black tea you had placed in front of him earlier, taking a sip. It had gone lukewarm—neither hot nor cold, a temperature he despised. It mirrored the hollow, uncomfortable feeling gnawing at his chest.

Finally, he set the cup down with a dull clink. “We’ll talk tomorrow,” he said, his voice firmer now, though tinged with weariness.

You said nothing in return, merely turned and walked away.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

The next morning, when he woke up, sunlight was already streaming through the curtains. His eyes flicked to the clock on his nightstand—10 a.m. He sat up abruptly, his head spinning slightly from the sudden movement.

He rarely ever slept this late. For years, he had trained himself to wake by 5 a.m., no matter how little sleep he’d had the night before. Even on his most exhausting days, he never overslept. At most, he might sleep in until 6 or 7 a.m., but 10? Never.

Rubbing his temples, he tried to piece it together. What had made him sleep like this? He thought back to the night before, to your calm words, to the tea…

His hands froze mid-motion. The tea.

A surge of realization hit him. You drugged him.

He swung his legs out of bed, his movements sharp and full of urgency. Throwing on a robe, he stormed out of the bedroom, his voice cutting through the quiet house. “Where is she?”

The housemaid appeared, her expression hesitant and unsure. “She left, sir. Early this morning.”

His jaw tightened as he ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “And she didn’t say anything? Not a word?”

The maid paused, then held out a small item. “She left this, sir.”

He grabbed the velvet box from her hand, his chest tightening as he opened it. His breath caught at the sight of your wedding ring nestled inside.

For two years, he had worn his own wedding ring daily, thinking of it as nothing more than a piece of jewelry. But now, staring at your ring, it felt heavier than it should, as though it carried the weight of your departure.

Inside the ring box, you left the same crumpled dollar bill. It sat there like a cruel punchline, mocking everything he thought both of you had built together—a final, silent reminder of just how little she thought he was worth.

He set the box down on the table, his eyes scanning the room. When they landed on the wardrobe, he froze. It was still full. You hadn’t taken a single thing.

His mind raced. Where could you have gone? How did you vanish so quickly?

He reached for his phone, dialing his security team with shaky fingers. After two rings, someone picked up.

“Where is she?” he barked, his voice tight with frustration, the tension unmistakable.

The security officer on the other end hesitated. “Mrs. told us… madam wanted to meet her.”

His brows furrowed. “My mother?”

“Yes, sir. She’s in another state.”

That meant only one thing. You had gone to the airport.

“Did she take the private jet or a commercial plane?” he demanded.

“Commercial, sir. It was a last-minute trip, and we hadn’t prepared the jet.”

Bucky’s grip on the phone tightened, his knuckles whitening. His jaw clenched as frustration surged within him. He wanted to scream, to lash out at the sheer incompetence of his team. You fucking idiot. The words pounded in his mind, but he bit them back, forcing himself to stay composed.

“Who bought the ticket?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

“It was Mrs. who purchased the ticket herself.”

Bucky exhaled sharply through his nose, his patience wearing thin. He wanted nothing more than to explode, but he kept his voice steady. “Find out where she went.” Without waiting for a response, he ended the call.

Immediately, he dialed his mother. The line connected after a single ring.

“Hello.”

“I’m glad you called,” she said briskly. “Do you know what’s going on right now?”

His grip on the phone tightened. “Did you ask her to meet you?”

“Me? No, I—”

He ended the call before she could finish. That ruled out her involvement.

His mind raced as he considered the possibilities. If you had boarded a plane, he could easily track your destination. But the other option loomed: that the airport was a decoy. You had used his mother’s name as an excuse, ensuring your movements would go undetected by his security team, who clearly hadn’t been following you as closely as they did him.

Bucky’s phone buzzed. The confirmation from his team came through, and the news made his blood boil.

“Mrs. bought a plane ticket but didn’t get on the plane,” the head of security reported.

“Did you check the surveillance cameras?” he snapped.

“Yes, sir. We’ve reviewed the footage. There’s a woman with a similar appearance to madam who rented a car at the airport.”

Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose, his frustration mounting. He sucked in a breath, exhaling slowly to keep his temper in check. So, it’s option two. You’re still in the same state.

“Great,” he muttered under his breath, pacing the room. He could feel the tension radiating through his body. “At least you didn’t go far.”

Without wasting another second, he barked into the phone, “Chase the car. Check every schedule she might have left behind, and contact her friends. I want updates—fast.”

Ending the call, he threw the phone onto his desk with a sharp clatter. Running a hand through his hair, he leaned against the desk, staring out the window as the weight of the situation pressed down on him. For someone who always had the upper hand, this was new territory. And he hated it.

Bucky sat in his office chair, staring at the empty ring box on his desk. His mind swirled with unanswered questions. Why had you suddenly left without a word? Both of you had been such a good team—practical, efficient, and untroubled by the complications that plagued most marriages. At least, that’s what he thought.

If he could, he would turn back time and relive the past few months, examining every moment you’d spent together. Had he missed something? Made a mistake? Or had something happened that he was completely unaware of? The uncertainty gnawed at him, a feeling he hadn’t experienced in years.

His phone buzzed, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“We found her. But…”

“What?!” he barked, standing abruptly.

“It’s not Mrs.,” the security team clarified hesitantly.

A chill ran down his spine. “Then who is it?”

“It’s her friend, sir.”

His stomach tightened, and for the first time in years, Bucky felt a flicker of fear. He thought he was closing in, that you were still within his reach. But now, you were out of his watch, slipping further away with every passing second.

“Secure her. I’m going to meet her,” he ordered, his voice cold and sharp.

“Yes, sir.”

"Prepare the car," Bucky ordered, his voice cold and demanding.

"But, sir, you have a meeting at 2 p.m", his assistant replied, hesitant.

Bucky shot him a sharp glare, his jaw tightening.

The assistant quicklu nodded. "I'll reschedule it, sir," he muttered avoiding Bucky's piercing gaze.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Minutes later, Bucky arrived at a quiet café where Grace was waiting under the watchful eye of his security team. The moment he saw her, he recognized her immediately—your friend, the one who had attended your wedding. Grace was the only person you had trusted with the details of this marriage contract.

Bucky approached the table, his expression unreadable, but his clenched fists betrayed the storm brewing inside him.

“Where is she?” His voice was steady, but there was an edge of desperation he couldn’t fully mask.

Grace avoided his gaze, staring down at the steaming cup of coffee in front of her.

He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. “I could raise my voice at you, but I won’t. Grace, please. Tell me where she is.”

Grace finally looked up, her expression guarded. “As far as I know, last night was the last day of your marriage. Today, she’s a free woman.”

Her words hit him harder than he expected, and for a moment, Bucky’s mask slipped. He stared at her, bewildered, the weight of everything sinking in. What had he done to make you leave? Had he overlooked something so significant? And why did Grace seem to despise him so much?

Before he could respond, his phone buzzed again. He stepped aside to take the call, his jaw tightening as he listened.

“Sir, we’ve reviewed additional footage. Mrs. used Grace’s ID to purchase another ticket. She’s already on the plane.”

Bucky’s grip on the phone tightened. His gaze snapped back to Grace, who was now watching him warily.

“Grace,” he began, his voice sharper this time. “I’m asking you again. Where is she?”

Grace shook her head, her tone calm but firm. “I don’t know.”

His frustration boiled over. He leaned forward, his palms flat on the table as he stared her down. “Don’t lie to me, Grace.”

She didn’t flinch. “I’m not lying. You don’t know anything about her.”

Her words struck a nerve, leaving him momentarily speechless. He straightened, trying to collect himself, but his mind was racing. Don’t know anything about her? He hated the implication.

“She trusted you,” he said, his voice low. “You were the only one who knew about the arrangement, the only one she confided in.”

“And that’s why I won’t betray her trust now,” Grace replied evenly.

Author Note: Do you found this interesting? Would you like it to be continued?

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 19: The One Where I Perform Mis-Directed as a Three Act Comedy, Act II

“Before you started the bumpers cars act, for the record unless you’re eight years old trying to make your dolls kiss, smashing your teeth together is not an ideal approximation of romance.”

“And [Hattie’s] gaze fell to [Anthony’s], felt as if somehow it was attached to his, as if there were filaments between them hooking together every time their glances connected.”

“Maybe there had already been the faintest glimmer of this horrifying attachment even then. His first steps on a map to a very unexpected destination but somehow it still felt as if there’d been no warning at all. As if a thousand insignificant moments and incidents had quietly woven together until one day he’d turned and he’d fallen and he’d been caught by a net of those impossibly unbreakable threads which he hadn’t realized existed.”

“…[Anthony] was not a touchy-feely person… But when he and Hattie, when their characters had kissed each other into the wall, he’d almost purred against her like a damn cat.”

“It was a closed set this morning so thankfully a very minimal number of crew personnel…On the flip side, the team reserved this level of set closure, basically a skeleton crew, for only the most explicit scenes and semi-nudity.”

“But she never had to worry in the past about being more involved in the dance than she ought to be. Not once had she arranged herself in a castmate’s arms and felt as if they were doing something truly, genuinely intimate…"

“Quite clearly the issue here was her scene partner and the potential for an amped up repeat of what had happened last time. Hard nipples, damp thighs, and a heart trying to burst out of her chest, all from a fully clothed screen kiss. This time, they’d both be all but naked, writhing on a bed, gasping, grinding, sighing.”

“This mattress feels very sturdy.”

“The moment Iris bounces him into the mattress in episode 8..."

“If millions of people were going to watch her ride Anthony like a mechanical bull…”

“Stevie pointed at the ornate mirror near the bed. Her gesture a spectacular symphony of sarcasm. ‘As your pre-seduction routine appears to involve a great deal of hair flicking and smokey glances at yourself, have at it.’”

“Are you looking for something?”

“‘Falling buckets,’ Hattie said. ‘Or collapsing bedframes or beams coming loose…’”

“…when the floorboard beneath [Anthony’s] boot performed a preemptive strike. The wood tilted inwards, just enough to throw off his footing…and his full body weight surged forward. She could see later in hindsight that he had attempted to both shield her head and not crush her underneath him…"

“Anthony landed on his knees with a painful grunt but had barely hit the floor before he was at her side, touching the back of her head and her shaking shoulders. She just had time to register a little too much cool air on the backs of her thighs, then he was smoothing her skirts down protecting what remained of her dignity in an automatic gesture.”

“’Gentle, this bit,’ [Stevie] said. “Romantic, soft.”

“But in the ways that mattered, especially in the context of an intimate scene and the scripts that they all dreaded most, he’d been surprising. If she wanted to expand into the territory of actual truth, he’d been the most confusing, unsettling, and fun scene partner she’d had in four years.”

“They were still holding hands. They realized this simultaneously and let go immediately.”

“’She’s my baby,’ [Cassidy] explained as she turned the key in the ignition. ‘The first thing I ever treated myself to with my own money, and she’s been with me for the whole crazy ride.’ She patted the gear box fondly. ‘I could never part with Penelope.’”

When discussing the underdog love story on Leicester Square, Hattie commented, “If she were a viewer, she’d be shipping them hard.”

While Anthony and Hattie were looking at gravestones, one caught Hattie’s eye…

“The dates here coincided with the time period of Leicester Square… Below the words was a symbol of a V-shaped flying dove. At first glimpse, it strongly resembled two raised fingers.”

While reminiscing about growing up, Hattie recalled, “...her mother reading aloud to her from a battered old copy of The Magic Faraway Tree.”

“’Do you remember the day we first met,’ [Hattie] asked suddenly."

“In all honesty, no. His early days on various TV and film sets had all blurred into an archived jumble of long hours, interchangeable costars, despised hotel living. As difficult as it was to imagine now, he had no distinct memory of the very first time he had ever seen Hattie. Although, he might have a vague recollection of earrings shaped like miniature garden gnomes. He did, however, have a crystal-clear memory of the first time he’d actually seen Hattie with all that the emphasis on that word implied.”

“She’d obviously read the ‘no’ in his expression, and her smile widened.”

“’It was a Tuesday morning at Malvern Abbey.’”

“And now she felt excessively wrong sharing close whispering breaths with Patrick especially with Anthony sitting on a folding chair a few meters behind the camera awaiting his queue to slip in for the daydream portion of the scene, and currently watching their every move. His pose was typically lazy, one boot crossed over the other, his fingers tapping on the arm of the chair, but he hadn’t looked away from them once. Something in his demeanor had the usually easy-going Patrick antsy as hell, probably the twitching eyelid.”

“’A definite improvement,’ Stevie’s voice came from behind them, very dryly. ‘And if we’d actually started shooting yet, we could probably call it a day.’”

[unbfacts]

In the United Kingdom, a phenomenon known as "TV pickup" occurs when large numbers of viewers simultaneously switch on electric kettles during television program breaks, causing significant surges in national power demand.

[crowsofdarkness]

Camboy!Bill Skarsgard- Bill sends you a gift and wants you to use it while on facetime with him-Part Eight

-pics not mine.-

Pairings: CamBoy!Bill Skarsgard x Viewer!Reader

Summary: Bill isn't ashamed of the work he does, showcasing his body online for anyone willing to pay. His number one rule was never to make a connection with anyone who either sent him messages or paid for private one-on-one video sessions. That was until you decided to request a certain private session.

Content Warnings: 18+ smut which includes Bill having an only fans page, masturbation, phone sex, virtual sex, and language.

Authors Note: this is a limited mini-series, just a bunch of blurbs that take place in this universe. i'm not sure exactly how long this will be. tags will be open for this if anyone is interested! TWO CHAPTERS LEFT AFTER THIS ONE.

Tags: @loushaw131460 @hatterripper31 @felicity-lemons-thoughts @malenoradgn @unlimitedlust @voidofsunlight @muchwita @amidthechaos

CamBoy!Bill masterlist.

“Bill, what is this?” I asked, a slight waver in my voice as I peered down into the box which was currently holding my new gift. 

His wolfish smile appeared bright on my phone screen. “Well, since we’re going to meet in person, I thought to send you something to get prepared.”

My face reddened almost immediately when I opened the box he sent me. I knew what it was yet I wasn’t sure why he was sending it to me. 

“Wait,” I blinked away from the large object inside of the box to gaze at my phone which was perched up against my pillow. “You sent me a dildo to get prepared for when we meet?” 

“It’s true to the original,” Bill winked. 

“T-to what original?” I asked, now my crimson blush streaking down from my cheeks to my neck. 

“My cock.” 

My heart was beating so loud in my chest, I could hear it in my ears. Why did Bill sending me a dildo that was true to his cock, in size and girth, turn me on so much? My cunt ached with the need to try it out. 

 “You sent me a dildo that is a replica of your cock?” 

He placed his thick arm behind his head to prop himself up more on his bed while holding the phone with the other. “So you can get your pretty pussy ready for my actual cock.” 

My lips parted in an O shape as I tentatively took out the dildo, which also was true to skin color, and weighed it around in my hand. It was long and thick, but just enough that I could wrap my hand around it comfortably. Images of me using it flashed in my mind and instantly I felt a surge of heat blaze through me. 

Things between Bill and I have been wonderful, even though we were doing the whole long distance. We still haven’t chosen an official date for when we would meet mostly because I didn’t have the funds to buy a plane ticket. We did agree, however, that I would fly out to him. I was extremely nervous, hell I still am. I was going to fly out to Bill where he would pick me up and I’d stay at his place; if I was comfortable with it. 

I was. 

We talked all day, everyday. Our connection grew immensely these last couple of months, and I wanted to spend every second with him when I arrived. I would stay for about a week before having to fly back home. I wanted to stay longer however I couldn’t afford to be off from work for more than six days. 

“So, you want me to fuck myself with it?” I asked Bill, somewhat surprised at how I didn’t blush at my words. 

The time we spent together, albeit virtual, he helped immensely by bringing me out of my shell. And the virtual sex? Hot as fuck. My skin ignited to life with the ideas of how our sex life would improve once we finally met. 

Well, so I hoped. I would actually die if our sex life became mediocre once we met. 

Bill nodded with a fox smile. “You’re going to fuck yourself with it while I watch.”

I tweaked my brow. “Just watch, huh?” 

“Fine,” he rolled his eyes with a playful sigh. “I’m going to fuck my doll and pretend its your cunt.” 

Internally, I frowned. “I wish that doll was true to my pussy.” 

Heat flashed in his eyes. “Trust me, angel. If there was a way I could do that, I would have.”

Bill had this silicone “doll”. It wasn’t really a doll, more so mold of the lower half of a female body; pussy and ass. He’s used it quite a few times on his stream, something that was extremely popular with the viewers. I wasn’t a viewer anymore because Bill sent me content for free. I felt terrible being subscribed to my boyfriend's sex pages when he sends me better content for free. He’s actually sent me plenty of pictures and videos of him using this doll and every single one was hotter than the last. 

It took a bit but after some time, Bill was set up on his end while I was on mine. He suggested I use some lube to help the dildo slide in easily. I was on my bed, spread legs towards my headboard which my phone was propped up against, my head close to hanging off the edge. 

Bill was set up almost the same with his phone against his headboard facing him as he propped himself in front of the silicone pussy. I let his soft words urge me on as I slowly pushed the dildo inside of me, nearly cursing at the size of it. I quickly bit on my bottom lip as the pain speared inside of me. 

“Take it slow, angel. Go at your own pace.” 

Letting out a deep breath, I eased my body more into the mattress while pressing the final few inches inside of my cunt and let out a low moan of pleasure. I felt so good, so full. 

“This is how your cock is going to feel?” I asked in a breath. 

Bill grunted. “Mine’s going to feel even better because you’ll feel every pulse and vein.”

“Fuck,” I moaned, now moving the dildo in and out of me in a pace I knew I liked. 

The wet sounds coming from not only my room but my phone as Bill ruthlessly fucked the silicone pussy made my head spin in desire. Every so often, the echo of a spank would sound, causing me to bite the inside of my cheek, pretending he was smacking my own ass. 

“Taking my cock so well.” 

“You feel so fucking good gripping my cock, angel.” 

“God fucking damnit, Y/N. I can’t wait till I can feel the real thing.” 

“I can’t wait to watch you come undone underneath me.”

“Bill,” I whined as my pussy spasmed around the dildo. 

My orgasm was close, cresting so fucking high, it felt as if I was dancing on the clouds in the sky. The bottom of my belly warmed and my body pricked with tingles all over my sticky skin. 

“Say my name again,” Bill demanded, his voice heavy with lust. 

I turned my head slightly to the side, still fucking myself with the dildo, to see him fucking the silicone pussy deep into his matress and I found myself jealous it wasn’t me.  Sweat gathered on his mustache but he made no effort to wipe it away, afraid that if he stopped his thrusts, he would lose his own orgasm that was about to tear through him with a scream. 

“Bill!” I moaned again, this time louder when my own release washed over me in a warm rays of sunshine, the bright light from it blinding me. 

“You look so fucking beautiful coming apart on my cock, angel. I can’t wait to paint you with my cum,” he let out a deep, guttural, moan, before his abs constricted for a second, then he spilled inside of the silicone pussy. 

We both took a few minutes to come down from our high before I tossed the dildo on the bed next to me, making a mental note to clean it, and reached for the phone. Bill was laying down with a sad smile on his gorgeous face. 

“What?” I asked. 

He shrugged. “I wish you were here with me right now.” 

Now it was my turn to frown and I pulled my blanket close to my chin, easing deeper into my bed. I was still naked and somewhat sticky from my arousal and the lube between my legs, but I didn’t want to stop talking to Bill to go shower. 

Oh please, you’ve facetimed him before while you were in the shower and he jacked off to it. 

“I know. But I can’t afford-.” 

“Let me buy your ticket, angel,” Bill cut me off before I could finish. 

“No, Bill. You’ve already spent so much money on me,” I shook my head, not wanting for him to drop another large amount of money on me. 

I looked into how much it would cost for me to fly to him and it wasn’t cheap. 

His voice was soft as he called my name. “Will you let me do this, please? I want you right here next to me. I want to be able to fall asleep with your head against my chest. I want to be able to wake up with my face buried in your neck. Or your cunt.” 

A bright red hue covered every inch of my body at his words. I wanted to disagree because the guilt was strong but seeing how adorable he looked with those large hazel sad eyes quickly had me crumbling. 

“Okay,” I agreed, not being able to hide my smile. “We would need to figure out what days-.” 

“Check your email,” Bill interrupted, again. 

I blinked. “Bill, what did you do?” 

He repeated his words a few more times, until I agreed with a sigh. With our facetime call still up and active, I checked my email and damn near fell through my bed. Bill already bought my plane ticket. According to the time he sent the email, he bought it hours ago. But that’s not what had my heart lurching into my throat, excitement coursing through my veins. It was the departure date. 

I was flying out to meet him in two days. 

“I wanted to have you fly out tomorrow but I thought to give you more than a few hours to pack and get ready,” he said when I brought our phone call back to full screen. 

“I can’t believe we're finally going to meet,” I said, still in disbelief that this was finally happening. 

We talked about it for so long, I was afraid it would only be that; words. I never thought we would actually get to this moment. 

Bill wore a wide smile as he ran a hand through his hair. “Get ready, angel. I’ve got our whole week planned and I’m never going to let you go once you arrive.” 

Somehow, I didn’t doubt that he would never let me go. 

[ryiju-muunie]

Boyfriends Brother (200 follower special)

18+ viewer discretion is advised

fem!reader/Suguru Geto Warnings: infidelity, shower sex, p in v sex, creampie, exhibitionism, masturbation, semi public masturbation [someones in the room and they're unaware], finger sucking, standing up sex, Geto is hung its canon, tattooed!Suguru Geto, perverted!Suguru Geto Word count: 3129 DESC: You like the thrill of almost getting caught with your boyfriends brother

This is what won the poll and I took some very creative liberties when writing :3

You were always attracted to Suguru. In some weird way, you found him more attractive than his brother, the brother you were dating. You met your boyfriend a few months prior in a bar, nothing special. The two of you hit it off and began to date. But he never made you feel anything like this. Sure, he was conventionally attractive, but you never lusted after him. You never felt a surge pulsate between your thighs when he was near, and you sure as hell never got wet off of his voice alone. Not to mention, your boyfriend was kind of a dick. He drank a lot, looked at other women a lot, and objectified you a lot. Yeah sure, you hit it off, but you felt trapped after the five-month mark. You didn’t have any desire to stay with him and he couldn’t care less, you were his personal maid and fuck toy. Suguru was different than him. 

You first met him at a party your boyfriend forced you to go to. He smacked your ass and crudely announced, “This is the hot piece of ass I was telling you about, Guru!” Your boyfriend's brother stared at him blankly for a moment, before turning his eyes to you. They were naturally sultry and narrowed to take in your form. He took in your uncomfortable smile and tensed shoulders, and he sighed. A hand ran up to mess with his hair, undoing it from its bun. You watched as his neck tattoo and ear gauges got covered by his thick black hair, cascading onto his shoulders in a choppy fashion. 

“It’s very nice to meet you,” Suguru extended his hand and took yours without hesitation. You saw instantly how much bigger he was than you. His height towered over your frame and your hand was engulfed by his own. Even though he was practically huge, he shook your hand delicately. As if you’d break with one rough touch. 

Something took over your body and you turned to your boyfriend, to look at him with innocent eyes, “Baby, can you get me a soda?” You’d never been the devious type or even the type to consider cheating. But something new crossed your mind. You didn’t think about sleeping with him like that, although you did note how utterly ethereal he was. He was perfect, down to every mole or the crook in his nose. 

Your boyfriend rolled his eyes in a way you knew wasn’t teasing and walked off, to find the bar top to get you two a drink. Once he was gone you felt yourself relax, your shoulders drooping and a breath escaping your lips. You went to apologize for his behavior, but at the same time you spoke so did Suguru, stating the same thing. He paused mid-way and blinked once, “...Why are you sorry? He’s my brother, I should be apologizing for his upbringing… lack thereof.” The raven-haired male crossed his arms in an annoyed way that made you let out a faint giggle. He was right, your boyfriend had horrible manners. At first, it too made you laugh, but then it became an embarrassing pain. Your heart thumped loudly against your chest and made your ribs tighten, not to mention you felt that familiar pang in your legs. Over a joke? Really?? Well, he was hot, and he acknowledged your boyfriend's abhorrent behavior. That was truly hard to find for you. Someone who was on your side. Someone who saw you. God, it was hot. You were never the cheating type, always becoming toxically loyal to your partners. But there was something about him. You found yourself attracted to him. That’s when your small crush began on Suguru. 

Obviously, you started to see him more and more. It was like your boyfriend had been hiding his more attractive brother from you for the first few weeks, but now you couldn’t get rid of him. Over the next few weeks, he frequented your boyfriend's apartment, and then your shared apartment when you moved in. He’d always make small talk with you, and more importantly, make you feel seen. It wasn’t just one thing to feel attracted to him, you actually liked being around him. He was funny and sensitive; All of it was making your crush ten times worse. The crush was originally mainly and only surface level, but soon you imagined what it would be like to wake up with him next to you instead of your boyfriend. You imagined running your hands through his hair and wishing him a good morning. Kissing his eyelids until he groggily looked at you, before smiling. Your fantasies would always start wholesome, then turn dirty within seconds. You wanted him to worship your body and fuck you senseless, making you stand as you took his big, filthy, cock. He had to be large, there was no way he wasn’t. Just from the sheer size of his body, you knew he was packing. You wanted him to C-hook your mouth with his index finger, slamming down your throat and making you choke on it as you came. 

You blinked a few times and took yourself out of the vivid fantasy, making your underwear stick to your folds. Suguru was at your apartment, playing video games with his brother. They sat at the foot of the bed while you watched from your desk, while you were supposed to be doing homework. You couldn’t focus, looking at Suguru’s chiseled back and his mop of hair. They were in front of you, so they didn’t see your hand snake down the front of your shorts, which were just your boyfriend's grey boxers. Your fingers brushed against your clothed clit, against your sopping panties. You inhaled quietly and bit back a moan at the sensitive sensation. You had never been this bad before, to fuck yourself to Suguru with him in the same room as you. Normally, it would be late at night or in the shower. But now … you felt so desperate to get off. You held the back of your hand to your mouth and bit down, to stop small noises from escaping as you rubbed your pussy. 

“Goal!” Your boyfriend shouted, grinning at his brother, “Bet you can’t beat that, Guru!” Suguru went to speak, turning his head, but his eyes locked with yours. Just as you came, seeing your eyes flutter to the back of your head. He stared for a moment before shoving his brother's head and replying with a standard response you didn’t hear. You were too busy, filling with dread. He just saw you fuck yourself and he just saw you orgasm. What’s worse, is he saw you weren’t staring at your boyfriend either. You were staring at your boyfriend's brother. It was over, you were going to be outed as the perverted soul you truly were. No one had ever made you debate stealing their clothes and touching yourself to the smell of them. Not even your boyfriend.

Suguru got up and cleared his throat, “Is it okay if I shower? I’m feeling a bit greasy,” he looked over at you and then winked. He … winked. You felt your heart squeeze and your hand pulled itself out from your underwear, two fingers glistening from your wetness in the low light. Your boyfriend nodded and his brother walked back to the door, passing by you. He leaned over your frame and grabbed your hand by the wrist, letting his fingers engulf it. He smelled purely of nice cologne; Mixing with the air, it made you feel hazy. Maybe he wasn’t exactly as straight-laced as you had anticipated. And maybe when he saw your display he realized he had a chance. That’s what you hoped for. 

Your legs slowly clenched together, squeezing as he brought your hand up to his mouth. “Spread them, pretty girl,” he mumbled, eyeing your slicked fingers with a lustrous stare. You bit back a whimper and spread your fingers apart. Suguru brought your wet middle finger into his mouth and inserted it, closing his lips around your knuckle. He started sucking, closing his eyes, and groaning softly at the taste. You could see he was already hard and you could see him have to restrain himself from taking you then right there. It turned you on, for the fact your boyfriend was right in front of you two none the wiser. All he knew was you were doing homework and his brother was showering. But you weren’t doing your homework and Suguru wasn’t showering. He was busy licking up and down your middle finger, drinking up your holy liquids like it was a prayer. He finally pulled back, leaving a trail of saliva from the bottom of his lip to your fingertip. He let go of your wrist and used that hand to signal you to follow him silently, making sure your boyfriend didn’t notice. 

You stood up instantly, following him quietly. At that moment, you cut any romantic ties you had with your boyfriend. You felt nothing but contempt for him, keeping you trapped in a relationship based on the promises he always took back. At that moment, you were completely and utterly done. You didn’t need your boyfriend anymore when you had a real man who could ravish and please you, romantically and sexually. The two of you made the quick walk to the bathroom connected to the master bedroom, letting the door faintly close behind the both of you. In seconds his hands were on your hips, tracing them lightly with his fingers. Even his dirty touches were polite as if he didn’t want to break you.

“Fuck… I’ve wanted this so bad,” Suguru practically moaned, “He doesn’t deserve you. He can’t please you like I can,” his hands slowly trailed down until they grazed your ass. His large palms smoothed your skin and then squeezed, just to hear you gasp and feel you shudder.

“Suguru…” You whined against his touch, pouting your bottom lip when he kept squeezing your ass cheeks, “This is so.. Wr-” You couldn’t continue your sentence, as his lips found yours and pulled you into a heated kiss. The air felt so heavy and thick between the two of you, with your bodies pressed together in pure harmony. His mouth sucked and cradled yours, making you try your hardest to keep up. Suguru was such a skilled kisser, he was making it a bit hard. You whimpered into the kiss and pressed your hands onto his back, digging your nails into his shirt.

“Fuck right or wrong,” he breathed against your open mouth, as you attempted to find his own again, “No one deserves you. Not him,” his lips brushed against your temples, “Not even me…” With that, he was kissing you again, hungrier. He needed you so badly it was causing him physical pain. His hands were now trailing inside your shirt, undoing your bra. He needed you out of these useless clothes and he needed that now. Suguru was straining against his tight pants to just be inside of you, for any kind of release. Fuck… your mouth would’ve felt so good if he just let your plush lips wrap around his cock. 

“Hey, Guru??” You both heard your boyfriend shout. As quickly as Suguru was kissing and holding you, he was pushing you into the shower and closing the curtain. You fell against the tile wall and hissed at the sensation, pushing yourself up. You heard the door open and your boyfriend asked, “Yo, where’s the gf? I wanted a sandwich.”

“I think she said one of her friends invited her out. She’ll be back later,” Suguru lied, straight-faced and through his teeth. How could he do that to his brother and not look the littlest bit guilty? I mean, he was a piece of shit so he didn’t feel too bad. But this was still wrong. Oh so wrong.

“Oh,” you heard him reply a bit deflated, “Do you mind if I shave then? I was growing out the beard but I don’t think it’s a look.” You heard Suguru reply with a hearty laugh and then the door closed. You looked down at your clothes and began to strip, pushing them to the side of the shower. You could always pick them up later and put them in the washing machine, he’d never know. First, came your shirt and bra, then your shorts and panties. You heard a bit of shuffling behind the curtain and the raven-haired male stepped into the shower, avoiding opening the curtain too much. He gave you a sly grin and began to take off his own clothes. It was hot, seeing him remove his shirt and looking at the ink lining his skin. Dragons, snakes, spiders, webs, anything you could think of he probably had on his chest and arms. You couldn’t resist and one of your hands touched the snake in the shape of a heart along his bicep. His skin was so silky and smooth, you could’ve cum then and there. He looked over at you with a different expression, almost a deer in headlights. A small blush spread from his temples down to the apples of his cheeks, and a genuine smile appeared on his mouth. The one where his eyes crinkled and closed. 

“You know, I think she’s gonna leave you if you only call her the gf instead of her name,” Suguru called out, tossing his clothes over the curtain. Without giving his brother a chance to respond, he turned on the water to one of the hottest settings. You let out a faint gasp and felt as he pushed you up against the wall, pressing his mouth to yours. You didn’t even get a chance to look at his dick! You bit back a loud moan and kissed him back, as water pelted both of your fronts. Two burly hands pressed your wrists on either side of your head, forcing you to endure the passion from his mouth. It turned you on in a way that felt like a fire was brewing inside of your core, burning and building, waiting for more stimulation. His hands would feel better than your own and you both knew it. Just like how your mouth could satiate his own burning craving for a release.

“Yeah, right,” you could almost hear your boyfriend roll his eyes. But his voice was fading in and out of your hearing, half from the shower water and half from his brother sucking against your bottom lip. “She couldn’t leave me if she tried. My dicks too good.” Speak of the devil, you felt Suguru’s cock rub against your thigh. You didn’t take the time to even check if it was okay, pulling away and putting your hand against his cock, positioning it at your entrance. He watched you with half-lidded eyes, before biting his bottom lip. You felt so warm and wet, basically being asked to be defiled. 

“Yeah, you fuck her soooo good,” Suguru replied as he thrust into your pussy, biting back a groan and shuddering at the sensation of you clenching around him. He was big and he didn’t give you time to adjust as he began to fuck you, deep and slow, making sure to press his balls against your cunt, pulling out, then slamming back in. You gasped and pushed your head back against the tile, rocking your hips to the sensation. “I wonder if she’d like me more,” he spoke as if he wasn’t balls deep in your wetness. Suguru grabbed one of your legs and slowly began to lift it up to his hip, wrapping it around him. It was all to get the better angle to fuck you even deeper. You deserved the best he could ever give.

“Wh… why do you say that?” You heard your boyfriend sound a bit … jealous as he continued, “She’s with me for a reason, dude.” You went to open your mouth to whisper something to the man fucking you dumb, but his tip touched your heavenly spot. He was hitting every curve and ridge correctly, fucking you like a princess. To him, you deserved the best fucking he could give, even if he was forced to be quiet. He didn’t want you to be quiet at all, he wanted you to cry as you came every time. But these circumstances were a bit strange, even though the thrill turned you on. You could be caught at any second and completely outed as a perverted cheating creep, but you hadn’t been caught yet. That’s what made your stomach tingle every time he fucked his leaking cock into you.

“Just a hunch,” Suguru mumbled, letting a groan slip out. You arched your back as you felt his penis rub against you in a way you fucking loved, feeling yourself getting closer to the edge. He used his free hand to stick his fingers in your mouth, making you choke on how long and large they were. You grinned and sucked on them as if your climax depended on it, which it felt as though it did. You were so close and this was so hot, and he wasn’t stopping his thrusts for anything. He was just so hot. Nothing had ever turned you on this much in your life. Typically the only thing that felt good was the orgasm with your boyfriend, but everything felt good with Geto. Your mouth hung open and your tongue writhed around his fingers, whimpering as you finally came. You were too loud at that point, but you both didn’t care. He fucked your wetness right back into your battered cunt, making you feel all the more sensitive as you road your high and clenched your walls around his cock. You heard some rustling behind you and then felt his thrusts reach their peak, pumping ropes of cum into your abused pussy. Suguru let out a moan as he did so, again being way too loud. He didn’t stop, thrusting again and cumming even more. 

You were so sensitive you were about to orgasm again, but you paused. Maybe he was too loud, or the smell of your sex was overpowering, but you saw the shower curtain shift. One of your hands went to tap Suguru but another orgasm took hold of you and instead of words coming out, a loud moan did. Shit. Suguru froze and heard the curtain fully open behind him and you both felt the shower stop. It was silent as you stared face to face with your now ex-boyfriend. 

“I can ex-” You began but he cut you off.

“...Get out.”