#both sides not minding their business at all

[planetaryupscaled]

Disenchanted 3: Public Indecency

Male Reader x Karina

Tags: 3k, blackmail, cheat, creampie

The story is not ours, we alternate the original story to match our desired settings.

Ever since the day at the carnival I sensed a change in Karina. It was almost as if her last few emotional links to Jaewook had finally fractured and torn. The consequence to this was our relationship, if you could call it that became stronger.

Karina was less concerned about being married, her go to line anytime we were about to part take in anything remotely physical. It got to the point that she removed her wedding ring every time we indulged ourselves in satisfying our desires for one another. Jaewook on the other hand began falling deeper and deeper into a downward spiral, we met at least once a week to talk through his issues with Karina. Every time his solutions for fixing his marriage became more and more desperate.

“I don’t know how long we can go on like this.” Jaewook said, as we sat at a random bar off the side of the highway.

“It feels like our marriage has turned into a set of a show, like it’s all smiles and waves for the public, but in private, we go our separate ways.” Jaewook followed up.

I sat back, knocking down a shot of whisky, placing my hands on his shoulders.

“Give her more time, it must be tough for both of you.” I replied.

Jaewook shrugged his shoulders, a solitary tear falling down his cheeks.

“We haven’t had sex in weeks, her answers are cold, I dunno how I can fix this...what do I do?” He asked, eyes pleading for an answer.

Hearing this, jabbed sharply at my conscience as it was only a few hours ago that Karina and I had fucked in her car after she dropped the kids off to school. I still had her peach-colored lipstick marks smeared along the length of my cock after sucked me to completion, taking my pent up load down her married throat. It was becoming her thing, swallowing was once a taboo, a no no, but ever since we got together, having me finish in her mouth had always hit the right spot. It gave me a sense of pride, knowing she only swallowed me, only my load satiated her hunger. Jaewook and I polished off another few rounds before I called him a cab to take him home. The situation was getting untenable in the Lee household, only pushing Karina further into my arms, it was the perfect situation form me yet little did I know, things were going to get much more complicated.

—

“Hey, so I had a chat with corporate, and they have green us the green light to roll some sample products out at the local businesses.” Nayoung said, handing me the paperwork granting us more budget for the final push marketing our new lines.

“Hmmm that is a great news...I was thinking, maybe we could do something along the lines of nature, maybe draw upon the ecological and environmentally friendly products we have.” I replied.

“I will run it past the team and get back to you.” Nayoung said with a smile before we heard a knock at the door.

It was Karina, her hair wrapped neatly in a bun, wearing a striking pink number, accentuating her flawless toned legs.

“Morning team.” She said smiling.

“Just spoke to Yeonjun outside, good work on securing more funds for our new lines. I was thinking perhaps, marketing some at the local aquarium, drawing upon our environmental packaging and natural ingredients. They have a save the ocean exhibit on at the moment.” Karina said.

Nayoung looked at me with a smile.

“Looks like you have got your answer Boss.” Nayoung said.

Karina looked at me a little perplexed.

“I was just saying we should link our products up with our local businesses, hammering down on our eco-friendly appeal.” I said smiling.

“Great minds.” Replied Karina, laughing.

“Great...team day it is.” I said.

“Gather the troops, maybe we can all go down there, perhaps get some contacts, throw some ideas around.” I replied.

“You free Karina? You can be our secret weapon in getting them to potentially work with us.” I said.

“Are you planning in using me to further your professional career.” She replied smirking.

“You hit the nail right on the head.” I replied, grabbing my coat and walking towards her.

Nayoung was outside with Sohye and Yeonjun getting ready to go. I took the opportunity to peck Karina on the lips quickly, getting another hit of her womanly scent.

“Minho! People...” She startled.

“Might see...” I finished, kissing her again causing Karina to break out in a smile.

“Cmon, let’s go.” I said, opening the door and leading us out.

The local aquarium was only ten minutes away. The entire walk, Sohye and Nayoung updated Karina on various ideas they had on ways to spread our new lines on social media. I caught Yeonjun checking Karina out on a number of occasions, his eyes flickering towards her long slender legs as we reached our destination. I couldn’t blame him she was a very attractive woman. Nevertheless, I felt myself grow ever more protective over her, as I slowly began to realize, what we had was more than just the physical, I was actually falling for her completely.

My musings of how deep my relationship with Karina was, were quickly interrupted by the murmuring of the public around us. She had been recognized and approached by a number of fans asking for her autograph and picture. Karina dealt with it like a pro, smiling and stopping for photos while I flagged the manager. We spoke for a few moments regarding our impromptu visit and plans we had. The brief chat actually going better than I expected as he invited Karina and I to discuss our ideas in more detail. Flagging down Nayoung, I gave her the company card and told her to take the team out for lunch while Karina and I talked to the manager of the aquarium for a bit longer. He seemed, not surprisingly infatuated with Karina’s beauty, nodding and agreeing with everything she said. It took around fifteen minutes flat to organize a small event in the early part of next week to coincide with the finale of their save the Oceans exhibit.

“And that is why I brought you...” I said, whispering in Karina’s ear.

She smiled, slapping me on the arm as we finished up the meeting.

“Do you guys want me to show you around, we have special piece we are doing on Sea Turtles at the moment, not available for the public yet.” The manager asked hopefully.

Karina paused, looking at me.

“Sure.” I said, seeing Karina glare her eyes at me.

“Was this not meant to be a team day?” Karina said, whispering in my ear.

“Nayoung can look after them, besides, I told them to go around and get some lunch, we can all meet up after.” I replied, as we followed the manager around to the back of the complex.

The rumble of the public gradually dissipated to a low murmur as we made our way into a large open space, surrounded my glass screens, behind which was an endless volume of blue. Giant sea turtles floated gently by, as if waving to us as they circled upwards to the surface flanked by numerous colorful fish zipping effortlessly in and out of the artificial coral reefs.

“This is it!” The manager said proudly.

His eyes still glued to Karina as she stared at the beautiful creatures swimming in the deep.

“So when is this exhibit open?” Karina asked in wonder.

“About two weeks, you guys are the first to see it.” He said smiling.

I could see his eyes travel the length of her body the moment she turned around before his visual perversions were disrupted by a loud bang. It came from the main area down the hallway, with some load shouts. It sounded like there was a bit of a scuffle going down from the sounds of the screaming.

“Shit...what now?” The manager said, in frustration.

“Guys...have a look around and come back the way we came...my team will be in contact with you later this week to tidy up the details.” He said.

“It was nice to meet you...both of you.” He followed up, his face showing disappointment at having to leave the company of the once famous Idol.

We watched him leave before sighing in relief.

“He had such the hots for you Karina!” I said chuckling.

“I could feel his eyes on me every time I turned around...it felt- ughh a little creepy.” She said with a frown.

“Why...does it make you jealous when other guys check me out?” Karina asked closing the gap, gently smiling.

“A little...” I replied, kissing her lips.

“That is kinda cute.” She said kissing me back.

“I know right, it’s a problem the jealousy that is, it causes this really bad pent up tension you know.” I replied sarcastically.

“Oh...really.” She said raising her eyebrows.

“Don’t- don’t even say it mister.” Karina said, placing her fingers on my lips.

I looked at her suggestively, wrapping my hands around her waist as I eased her gently onto the glass of the aquarium.

“Minho...seriously...people...might...uhm...see...ughh...us.” She replied, her voice fading into light moans as my hands caressed her tight body.

“Let’s not pretend you don’t secretly like it...” I replied, kissing her down her body as my hands drifted up her dress.

“I do...ughh but- ohh god...that feels- good.” She replied, her pussy creaming in my palm.

“Just a quick...pump and dump.” I said with a smirk.

“A what...? who do you think you are talking to?” Karina said going bright red.

I kissed her full lips, biting down on her lower lip as I continued feeling her up under her dress.

“Shit...seriously- we...ughhh...might...unhh...get...caught...” Karina moaned.

My hand continuing to squeeze and massage her rapidly dampening pussy, causing her to adjust her stance to allow me better access to her burning sex.

“Maybe- ughh…maybe- a quick...pump.” She whispered breathlessly smacking my arm smirking, as she eased her legs open for me, the pleasure emanating from her slit causing a long groan to leave her lips.

Her purring was getting louder as I pierced her wet folds with my fingers, stroking her deep inside her womanly cavern. She ran her fingers through my hair, gripping my head tightly as I slung one of her legs over my shoulders, pushing her standing leg onto her tip toes. My tongue buried into the far reach depths of her married cunt as she flexed her walls around my face, creaming profusely over my mouth.

“Minho- quick…I need you…inside me...” Karina moaned impatiently, her need to be filled spilling out at the surface, rocking her head back and shutting her eyes.

I gave her folds one long lick, the drool from her pussy now forming thick strands on my lips as I hoovered up her sex for the final time.

“I thought...you were afraid of getting caught?” I said, raising my eyebrows as I slipped my drenched fingers from her glistening slit.

“Ughhh- fuck...I still…am, ohh…i can’t believe I’m letting you do this to me...” Karina replied, her eyes now filling with lust.

“Do you want me to stop?” I asked, petting her throbbing clit with my lips.

“Don’t you dare!” Karina, replied gritting her teeth and pulling me up to my feet.

“You want it?” I asked, taking her slippery tongue into my mouth and sucking down hard.

I could feel the vibrations of Karina groaning into my mouth, spreading her legs for me as I hiked up her dress.

“I love it...” She replied, kissing me back and wrapping her left leg around my waist.

Her hands were searching down my torso, fumbling for my zipper as we kissed deeply, our tongues clashing, exchanging spit as she finally set me free. My cock springing out from my trousers, the top of my shaft rubbing tantalizingly along the bottom of her sex. I could feel the warmth of her slit through her now soaked underwear, a mixture of her sensual cream and my spit coating my length as I rubbed up against her.

“Put it in...” Karina whispered, rolling her head into my hands as I supported her upper back in my right arm.

It was a moment of raw passion as we locked eyes, her mouth agape as I thrust my hips forward, piercing her wet folds with my cock. There was no time to take her underwear off I just wanted to be in her, as deep and as hard as I could, fucking my length up to the hilt till I bottomed out inside her precious pussy. Karina was slick, her hands clawing at my back as we found our rhythm, each pump of my dick bringing her further off the ground as her standing leg struggled to reach the floor.

“Karina...you feel so fucking good...” I moaned into her hear.

“Ughhh- keep going...just...like- that.” She replied, eyes shut tight as I nailed her against the glass.

All you could hear each time I penetrated her married cunt were the slaps of our flesh and a deep thud of her rear slamming hard against the aquarium wall. The coolness of the glass rubbing on her back side as I continuously stuffed her with my meat, stretching her tight pussy with my girth as my tip smashed up on her cervix, deep within her womb.

Karina scratched at my back, her breath now ragged as she was losing control, I could feel the walls of her cunt gradually intensify its grip on my straining cock as I pierced her slick folds. The cream from her cunt now dripping down my thighs as I fucked her full of my cock in the dimly lit aquarium.

“Fuckk...deeper- fuck...me...deeper...” Karina whispered hurriedly in my ear.

She was close, her body was tensing as I cradled both arms around her upper back, protecting the back of her head from what was about to happen.

“You want it deep baby?” I asked, my eyes burning with desire.

She nodded, biting her lip as her orgasm began to build.

“Hold on...” I said, kissing her deeply one more time as the brunette braced her core.

Karina knew what was coming, opening her thighs wider for me to allow for my deeper strokes. Gripping the back of her head I mercilessly pumped my dick deep inside her cunt, assaulting her married pussy with my invading cock as I stuffed her wanting womb with my meat.

“ughh...anhh...fuckk...” Karina screamed, her wails reverberating off the glass as I pummeled her cunt for all I was worth.

“Karina...I can’t hold on much...much longer...” I said, my breath now haggard as I continued to pump her.

“Fuck...unghh- inside...cum…inside me.” Karina moaned, now finding it hard to catch her breath as I began to creampied her inside.

It was like breaking a dam, as a river of warm sticky spunk flowed from my tip, seeding Karina’s married pussy. Spurt after spurt coated her pink womb as her cunt walls sucked on my shaft like a hoover, her thighs shaking as we climaxed simultaneously. Holding me close in her grasp, she swayed her hips forward, fucking more of my spasming cock into her tight cavern, milking my meat to completion as I pumped her full of my pent up sperm. Our sweaty bodies slowed in tempo, my twitching dick still buried inside her as I lowered her legs back onto the floor, my warm sperm leaking from her slit and trickling down her toned thighs as we kissed deeply, my hips thrusting one last time to make sure she took all my load inside her womb.

In the thralls of passion, I thought I spotted another person’s reflection in the glass, turning around in a shock but to no avail.

“What...what’s the matter?” Karina asked breathlessly.

She continued to rock her hips, not letting me disengage as the she reveled in the feeling of my seed swimming around inside her.

“Nothing...thought I saw something that’s all.” I replied, still gathering my thoughts.

“I feel so full...you came a lot” she said smirking as I slipped my member from her depths.

A stream of my cum came pouring out, mixed with her womanly grool and cream. The milky substance leaving a trail of destruction down her legs as the rest splashed on the concrete floor.

“You are so bad...” She smiled seductively, hitting my arm.

She was right, we were a very risky pair indeed, seeking out dangerous situations to satisfy our darkest desires.

“Hey, are you guys still here?” The manager’s voice called out from behind us.

Startled, I quickly buttoned my cock back into my trousers, handing Karina a tissue to wipe up the mess I made down her inner legs. Slightly red faced I turned around waving to him as I approached.

“Lovely turtles.” I said, motioning to the deep blue.

Karina joining me by my side, like nothing happened smiled and thanked the man for showing us around. It seemed to work as he flushed red showing us back to the entrance. She still had a smudge of my spunk on her inner leg which she quickly dispatched before the manager noticed, taking it between her pink lips and swallowing it down discretely.

“Your friends have been waiting a while, they are just outside.” He said pointing to the door.

We shook hands once more and departed, meeting the team outside.

“Where were you guys?” Nayoung asked.

“Eh the manager was a bit of a fan, he insisted in showing us around the new exhibit, we figured it was the least we could do for allowing us to market some of our products here.” Karina replied smiling.

Nayoung smiled giving me a small post it.

“Hajoon our director was here, he left with Yeonjun and went back to the office, he says he wants to discuss something with you guys.” Nayoung said slightly concerned.

“Is everything ok?” She asked.

“I assume its to update him on our progress, but why did Yeonjun go?” I asked.

“Dunno Boss, they were talking about a proposal of some sort.” Nayoung said shrugging her shoulders.

Karina looked at me slightly confused as we made our way back to work. Back inside, Karina went ahead to Hajoon’s office while I fixed my sweaty appearance, washing my face with cold water to gather my thoughts. When I knocked on the director’s door and entered, Karina was already sitting down, her expression looked worried for some reason.

“Please, sit Minho.” Hajoon said, pointing at the chair next to Karina.

Yeonjun was sitting on the side his face slightly piqued at my entrance, taking a seat on the cool leather chair.

Hajoon sighed, pushing out a phone on the table.

“It has come to my attention, that a senior manager and an important member of the board have been...partaking in less than professional activities.” He said.

I gulped hard, sweat now forming on my brow as he continued to speak ushering Yeonjun over to us. Yeonjun air played the phone to the tv monitor on the wall, pressing play. It was hard to make out at first, but when the video came into focus there was no denying what we were watching. It was Karina and I, fucking in the aquarium, you could clearly see her face resting on my shoulder, moaning into my neck as I was thrusting my cock deep inside her.

Hajoon’s face was oddly stoic, like we were in a business deal as he wrapped his fingers.

“You both know what this means, if this was to get out.” He said.

“That sounds like a threat...” I replied, my anger building as I turned my attention to Yeonjun.

“Seriously, leverage?” I said to Yeonjun, who remained looking at the floor.

“Don’t blame him, he was in the right to come to me.” Hajoon said.

Karina was sitting quietly next to me, her hands pressed together as we both listened to how our fates would unravel.

“So, what now?” I asked curtly.

“I can make this go away, delete this video and we can all go about our lives.” Hajoon replied, his voice taking on a sinister tone.

“What’s the catch...?” I asked.

“The catch is… a night with me.” Karina replied, her face flushed in embarrassment.

“What? No, absolutely not.” I replied.

Hajoon smiled, silently surveying us both, he had us dead to rights as he wrote something on a piece of paper.

“As you both may know, I am stepping down soon, the rumors are true.” Hajoon said.

“Now, I like you, I really do Karina, you are hardworking and great for the company... you are also very beautiful.” He followed up.

“I was actually going to offer this in exchange for...your body, but Yeonjun with his evidence had made it too good not to accelerate.” Hajoon said calmly.

“When I retire, I will transfer my shares to you Karina, giving you 30% of the company...in return for a night with you.” He said.

“As part of this deal, Yeonjun will also want a night with you, in return, he will delete the video once we finish… our transaction.” Hajoon said coldly.

I nearly punched both of them right there, before Karina grasped my hand.

“Don’t...” She said exasperated.

“I’ll do it... I’ll do it as long as you are there with me.” She said, a tear tricking down her face.

There was a deft silence in the room, I had no idea how to react to that before Hajoon spoke up.

“See, an amicable solution.” Hajoon said.

“After this Yeonjun, I am firing your ass.” I said, my voice laced in venom.

He shrugged his shoulders smirking.

“It’s totally worth it.” He said, pointing at the television as Karina and I fucked on screen.

“See you both soon...” Hajoon said, showing us the door, a wry smile spread on his wrinkly old face...

[starsofang]

Change of Heart

hitman!simon x f!reader / part 7

previous part

tw: NSFW, MDNI, don't wanna spoil but just be aware!

When life has completely and utterly failed you, you hire a hitman to take you out, too afraid to do it yourself. Instead of killing you like you had planned, he strikes up a deal with you, and you're too stubborn to bail out.

Good things don’t last. And both you and Simon were about to have a cruel reminder.

Simon stuck around after the two of you had shared the intimacy of a kiss. He didn’t let it go farther than just that, and neither did you. In fact, the rest of his time spent cooped up in your apartment was rather quiet and calming, despite the events that had taken place.

There was still fresh blood on his hands. He had let Ghost take over his senses and consume him in a blind rage, only to return to you as Simon, rage simmering into a flutter of calm. 

Simon felt like he was lying to you. And truthfully, part of him was. You didn’t know about the realness of his job or what he did. You didn’t see the knives he embedded in unexpecting men and women, or the droplets of powdered poison slipped into their glasses at parties. You were blissfully unaware of the true nature of his being.

Simon couldn’t exist without Ghost, but Ghost could certainly thrive without Simon.

Ghost could also live without you. No – he’d have to live without you, at some point. Simon just didn’t want to.

He was being selfish and he knew it. He was taking advantage of a woman who had no business being involved with him, yet his heart was unable to let you go and finish the job, the job he’s always been destined to do until death did he part.

Simon had been lying to you, and now, all of it was crumbling down on him.

Price’s text stared back at him from the brightness of his phone screen. It was like staring into the eyes of death, causing his chest to fill with a sickening tightness that made it hard to breathe.

“We need to talk. You know where to meet me.”

So he left you. He made sure you were fast asleep in the comfort of your bed, sheets pulled up to your ears, and he selfishly allowed himself a minute to stare down at your snoozing figure. So peaceful, you were, eyes fluttered shut, eyelashes fanning beautifully across the tops of your cheeks. Your mouth was parted with puffs of air exhaling from your lips, ones he had pressed kiss after kiss against the night before.

Selfish.

The streets were busy as he walked, yet the impending doom that hung over him like a storm cloud muted the sounds and circled him in a bubble. He didn’t hear the chatter of people passing by, nor the cars that revved and honked from the roads beside him.

It was a cruel silence as he went, like his mind was shutting down all aspects of life in a cruel reminder of the ones he’d taken away.

Price resided in a remote apartment complex, one that showed just how much he worked for what he did. Killing people, just like him, but taking on a role on the side of watching over him as well as Gaz and Soap. Brothers they were, all of them, and now Simon feared he was fucking up the dynamic by being greedy.

“Ghost,” Price greeted as he opened the door. Simon gave him a curt nod and entered the residence, following behind Price.

The man in question was silent when he made way to the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of tea. He offered Simon none in return, and Simon knew it was his subtle way of showing disappointment.

“Let’s chat,” Price mused, gesturing with a hand for Simon to join him in the living room.

Simon sat with his fists on his knees, back straight as a board, as Price sat in front of him in a much more relaxed state, leaning back and resting an ankle on his knee. He sipped at the tea, eyes boring into Simon’s.

“You fucked up, Simon.” Straight and blunt, cutting right to the chase. It stuck into Simon like a bee sting. “Killin’ a man outside of a job. Killin’ him of your own free will.”

Graves. The memory of his body, stabbed ruthlessly in his kitchen, his blood puddling the floor in a red mess, staining Simon’s skin an ugly crimson that he spent lifetimes scrubbing off. Mutilated, mangled, completely unrecognizable, all from Ghost’s doing.

“What the fuck were you thinkin’?” Price roared, displaying the layered frustration he had kept abay up until now. “This is your job, Simon, our job. You kill to get paid, not kill for your own pleasure.”

“I know.”

“You know, and still did it.”

“I fucked up.”

“Damn right you fucked up, Simon,” Price sneered. He stared at Simon with a look of anger, before it simmered down to one of muted frustration, a heavy sigh leaving his lips. He pressed his fingers to his eyes, squeezing them shut, before dropping his hand back down. “You need to let her go.”

“Who?” Simon asked, and Price scoffed.

“Don’t be coy. Gaz told me everythin’. Had Soap follow you around when you killed that Graves guy, saw you go back to your little bird’s place. You know who I’m talkin’ about.”

Fuck.

He’d been sloppy, all because of you. Simon never, in all his time of being a hitman, missed the feeling of watching eyes following him around. He never missed the hairs on the back of his neck standing up at the feeling of something or someone watching, observing, never missed the shiver running down his spine in a cold chill.

“This isn’t a fuckin’ game, Simon–”

“I know–”

“--yet you’re playin’ it like it is. This is a civilian’s life we’re talkin’ about, and not only did you kill Graves without payment, but you haven’t clipped your damn bird of her wings like she wants.”

Every single word was a harsh slap to the face, and Simon hated to admit that Price was right. He had rejected the job offer you’d given him from the very beginning. You wanted to die, you wanted to seek safe haven, yet he took that away from you. He wanted to save you, wanted to show you that life had meaning in its own ways, yet where were his reasons to stay?

Simon was a fucking hypocrite. Both to you, and himself.

“You know what you have to do, Simon.”

Simon stared at Price with eyes narrowed in confusion. He studied the firm lines that littered Price’s face, the way his mouth tugged into a frown, nearly covered by his facial hair. The tea he nursed was now growing cold in the presence of his lap, one hand curled around the handle with a white-knuckled grip.

“You can’t possibly ask me to do that,” Simon scoffed.

“I am, and I will. You either let her go and forget she exists, or you kill her off like you were intended to do in the first place. If you can’t handle it, then I’ll have Soap do it. Your choice.”

Price was giving Simon an option, though really, it wasn’t a choice at all. Either way, Simon would lose you, and he’d be forced to toss you aside like worthless garbage, or be forced to see the life drain from your eyes.

He fucked up, big time. He shouldn’t have brought this upon you. How selfish could he be?

Ghost was the person he was destined to be. Ghost was who he truly was. Up until he met you, he was content with that. He was the best of the best, and performed his job like it was a mundane task. Simple. Easy.

You slowed him down. You broke down the walls he’d so carefully built, brick by brick, all because you were a direct clone of who he used to be before he tread down this path of sinful bloodshed. He was an idiot to think he could have you without suffering the repercussions.

You didn’t deserve that, nor did you deserve a man like him – so broken and bruised, his heart too shattered to glue back together, not even by the tenderness of your own hands.

Maybe death really was the best ending for you. But Simon was a greedy bastard and couldn’t allow a world to spin without a piece of you occupying it.

“I’ll let her go,” he finally agreed. His tongue felt as if it were sharp as knives, slicing the gums of his mouth open with every word. Metallic saliva coated his tongue, filling his mouth with vials of blood. “I’ll cut off contact. Erase her number, forget she existed, so long as you don’t lay a hand on her.”

Price stared at him with an unreadable look. It was like he was pondering, examining, trying to crawl his way into Simon’s little mind and take a gander on what he was thinking. It was intrusive, invasive, and Simon looked away.

“She knows too much,” Price replied, tone much softer and sympathetic than before. “None of us want to hurt her, and her bein’ involved will only risk her safety. I’m happy you found somebody, Simon, I am. But you knew what you were gettin’ into. We can’t fraternize with the innocent, or else somebody else will just end up killin’ her instead of us.”

Simon scowled beneath his mask, crossing his arms over his chest in a defense mechanism. He didn’t want to admit that once again, Price was right, and Simon would’ve been the asshole that would’ve eventually gotten you killed or hurt.

Good things weren’t meant for people like him. You weren’t meant for people like him.

You were a flower in a blooming field of color, while he was the parasite that ate away at your soft petals.

Simon left Price’s with a sour taste in his mouth. It was bile rising in his throat and threatening to combust. It tainted his tongue with sickening acid, and no matter how much he tried to swallow it down, it grew stronger.

He lost track of how long he’d stared down at the messages on his phone, all from you.

“Hey, Si! Where’d you go?”

“Tell me when you have to leave for a job next time, dummy.”

“I’ll pick up some food for you later when you come by!”

Every message was a slice in the arteries of his heart. It filled him with aching pain, one nothing could ever smooth over. You were the bandages that held him together, and what was he? The bastard who took advantage.

He couldn’t let it end like this. He couldn’t click the block button on your contact, he couldn’t walk away like he should. Not without seeing you one more time – because that’s all he was. Selfish, selfish, selfish, a word that echoed in his mind on repeat like an irritating buzz.

Simon’s legs moved on their own accord, already mapping out the path towards your apartment. He knew you’d be home, he knew you were waiting for him to return like normal for his nightly endeavors in your presence.

He moved in earnest, strides long and swift, passing by people on the street without a second thought. He kept his eyes trained forward, not letting a single distraction stop him from seeing you.

Just one goodbye. That’s all he needed.

Making it to the front of your door, he found himself slamming his fist along it, the booming knock filling the hallway. He never knocked, it wasn’t his thing, yet here he was, mind so cloudy that it was the first thing he thought to do.

When the door opened and he saw your ruffled expression, he released a sharp exhale, one he thinks he’d been holding the entire run here. His chest visibly relaxed, shoulders slouching, hand dropping to his side once the door was tugged away from his knocking.

“Simon?” you asked, lifting a hand up to grab hold of his shoulder in attempts to keep him steady while he caught his breath. “You– are you okay?”

“I–” he sputtered, swallowing down the lump in his throat. Simon stared at you before pushing his way into your apartment, slamming the door behind him and locking it up tight.

Millions of thoughts raced around his head, and all of them revolved around you. Not a single thought went unnoticed by your being, and they fluttered around anxiously, like butterflies rapidly flapping their wings and crossing over one another.

“Simon,” you called out again, and he snapped his head to look over at you. Your face was filled with concern, eyebrows pulled together, lips pressed in a thin line. His eyes shifted down, watching the way you frowned. Even when you were taut up tight, you still made him feel dizzy at the sight of you.

Simon’s body moved on its own accord. It was like he lost complete control, instincts taking over.

He tugged off his mask in a frenzy, letting it fall to the floor, before he surged towards you and took your lips in his. The kiss was feverish, desperate. It had your body jolting backwards at the sheer force of it, but when you regained your composure, you quickly fell into his kiss like a helpless puddle of goo.

Limbs entangled with one another, his arms bracketing around your waist and holding you as if letting go would cause you to disappear forever. Your chest was pressed flush against him, leaving you no room to wiggle out, but you melted into him with ease, uncaring of the sudden display of need.

It was dizzying, staggering. It left your mind a fumbled mess.

“Si–” you attempted to croak, word getting cut off as he sunk his teeth into your bottom lip. “What’s going on?”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, sweetheart,” he breathed, nuzzling his face into the span of your jaw, lips brushing faintly against the skin. “I just need you. Please.”

You sucked in a shaky breath, hand coming up to tangle in the short locks of hair on his head. They were soft against your palm, and you smoothed them down.

“How–?”

“All of you. Please, sweetheart, just– you trust me, right?”

Selfish.

“Of course,” you mused. You felt him smile against your neck.

“Then please.”

“...Okay, Simon,” you whispered, because how could you deny the very man who did nothing but care for you to his best ability? Who saved you when nobody else was there to pick up the pieces and mend you together with the craftiness of their hands? “Okay.”

Simon breathed a heavy sigh of relief before pressing needy kisses along the expanse of your throat. Your head lolled to the side to allow him more access, mouth parting to release quiet gasps of surprise.

Every movement of his was unlike anything he’d done. He was always so calculated, so accurate and careful, yet this time, he was sloppy and unsystematic. It was as if he were only allowing his mind to take over, rather than logistics and realism.

The two of you moved in a clumsy dance, with him guiding you back towards the space of your bedroom with his arms unwavering around you and his lips continuing a messy attack on your neck. When you somehow made it past the door frame and into the comforting safe haven of your bedroom, his hands slipped down to the hem of your shirt, lifting it up over your head in a hurry.

“Is everything okay, Simon?” you asked worriedly, and he smiled at you, a tinge of sadness lingering at the back of his pupils.

“Just want to spend time with my pretty girl. Can I do that, sweetheart?”

You blinked at him when his hands came to a standstill against your hips, thumbs lightly brushing over the supple skin. His expression was so soft, one he only reserved for you and nobody else. The lines along his face were smoothened into a tender look, and you couldn’t help but admire it with a smile.

“You always can,” you assured, missing the way Simon winced.

Simon rushed forward once again, and your mouths met in an uncoordinated mess of teeth and tongue. It was hot and heavy, demanding and eager, and it showed in the way he lightly pushed you back to rest on your bed.

One of his hands pressed into the mattress next to your head while the other glossed over your side, cold fingertips causing goosebumps to rise. You shuddered, resting your own hands on each side of his jaw, tangling yourself and getting thrown into his web of affection.

“Wanna touch you,” he rasped, fingers sliding down to the hem of the pajama shorts you had yet to change out of, toying with it but not daring to pry until your say so. “Please.”

You sucked in a breath before promptly nodding, and that was all he needed to slip his fingers past the waistband, dipping his fingers into the warmth of your cunt. He was greeted with sweet wetness, and he let out a quiet groan into the curve of your neck, pressing a messy kiss there.

The pads of his fingers scooped up a bit of your slick like candied nectar, before rolling it around your clit, causing your legs to jolt in surprise. Air filled your lungs, burning at the expanding of your chest, before being released in a blissful form of a sigh, eyes fluttering up at him.

“M’gonna take care of you, sweetheart, I promise,” he murmured against your neck.

Simon’s fingers continued to toy at your clit with a feverish motion, circling at a messy pace. It wasn’t steady, but it didn’t matter – it felt good, and it brought butterflies to swarm in your stomach, blooming at the newfound feeling.

He was so gentle in the way he treated you, yet balanced it out with subtle desperation that had your toes curling as he worked wonders against your cunt. He’d circle your clit, before dipping down to tease at the wetness that sopped out of your hole, just to slide back up to continue the torturous prodding against your sensitive nub.

“Fuck, Simon,” you breathed, voice cracking.

“Yeah?” he hummed, his voice laced with sultry sweetness to it. “That okay, pretty girl? Wanna ruin you, fuck.”

“Please,” you pleaded, and the shakiness in your tone had him kissing you once before sliding his lips down. His fingers slipped out of your shorts, and before you could protest, they tugged down the fabric, soft against your legs, before he dropped them on the floor.

His hands gently spread your legs, and without a single hint of warning, you felt the warmth of his tongue press flat against your clit while his finger eased inside of you. Stars burst behind your eyes and you let out a strangled noise, hand frantically grasping on to his hair and gripping.

It was like the heavens were opening in the clouds above, shining warm rays of light all over you and heating you up from the inside. It was a delicious feeling, the way he sucked and slobbered all over your cunt like a man on a mission, his finger fucking inside of you with earnest.

Messy sounds filled the room combined with your pitiful whimpers and gasps of his name, and they only egged him on further.

If this was the last time he’d ever see you, he’d make it count. Your pleasure was his, and nothing else mattered.

One finger quickly became two, and he created a rhythm between fucking you with his fingers and swirling his tongue around your sensitive clit. The stimulation had you keening, already teetering on the edge of insanity. Your mind was blank and void of anything but moans of Simon’s name.

“Come on, pretty girl,” he breathed into your cunt, making you whine. “Come on. Cum on my fingers, know you can.”

His voice sent vibrations straight through your body, and your back arched with a wail, thighs clamping around his head in a death grip. They shook with the aftershocks of your climax, but that didn’t stop him from swallowing down every bit of you until it became too much.

He only released you when your fingers tugged on his hair, and when he sat back, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Simon smiled at you, eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas, pouring over with nothing short of admiration and awe.

You laid on the bed, breathless and sated, a sheen of sweat covering the expanse of your skin. It glimmered in the dim light of your room, and he pressed delicate kisses along the salty sweetness, making his way up your body.

“So good, sweetheart,” he cooed. “Told you m’gonna take care of you.”

You could nothing but nod dumbly, eyes half lidded as you watched him reach down between your two bodies to fiddle with the buckle of his pants. It clanged together, filling the air with glimpses of what was to come next, and when he got it undone, he wasted no time in tugging them down until he was bare from the waist down.

The sight was beautiful. His cock was hot and heavy between his legs, a slight shine over the flushed tip from precum, and you felt your mouth begin to water.

This was Simon in all of his glory, and only you had been the lucky one to see it. What an honor.

“So pretty,” Simon breathed, causing your gaze to snap up from his cock and to his face. His mouth was parted as his large hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it lazily while he looked at you. His breath fanned over your mouth from the close proximity. “So beautiful. You know that, don’t you, sweetheart?”

Your mind turned to mush at his words. You squirmed against the bed sheets, shyly looking away from him. His free hand came up to gently grasp your jaw, drawing you back to look at him, and his smile knocked the wind out of you.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he repeated, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips.

The feeling of the head of his cock lining up with your entrance had you gasping into his mouth, and he smiled against you, eyes unwavering from yours as he stretched you open.

It was an ecstatic feeling, one that filled you to the brim with elation. It burned inside of you with flickering flames of want.

He continued to push, and push, until he was flush with you, fully seated inside of your warm, slippery heat. There was a scratch that only Simon could itch, and he knew this. It was why when he began to move inside of you, he started off slow before burrowing into a needy pace filled with smothering desire.

Simon rested his forearms on each side of your head, hovering over you while his hips snapped into you, greedily taking everything you had to offer. It sent you into a puddled mess, mouth hung open as throaty moans escaped every time he took more and more. Your fingernails dug into his biceps, grounding yourself as much as you could with the way your body jolted back and forth from the force of him fucking you.

Fucking? Is that what it was? It felt much more meaningful than that. Simon kissed you with sentiment, thrust into you with aching longingness, praised you like a goddess in the sky and you were his saint.

His groans and grunts filled your ears like lovely symphonies, each note sending goosebumps to rise along your arms and neck. It was a beautiful song, filling you with the wonders of emotions. You couldn’t get enough.

“My pretty girl,” he sighed. His own words seem to turn him on further, as his pace increased, becoming an aggressive slap of skin with every thrust. His cock dragged mercifully along the walls of your cunt, his leaking tip hitting the spongy spot and causing your body to go lax as you took and took. “What are you doin’ t’me?”

“Simon,” you whimpered, and he chuckled out a breathy laugh. With his forearms still resided on the sides of your head, his fingers interlocked on the top of your head, holding you firm against him and keeping you in place.

“So fuckin’ good t’me. Don’t deserve you.”

You clamped around him, causing him to groan. His pace was becoming messy and sloppy, but no less relenting.

“I’ll make sure you’re cared for. Won’t ever have to worry ‘bout anythin’ with me around,” he whispered, and you weren’t fully processing the words. To you, it was mindless babble that you simply took in through the hazy state of your mind, nodding eagerly at every empty promise.

The two of you were growing restless, your bodies building a molten core of unleashed pleasure that threatened to erupt at any given moment. It was hot and scalding, burning the pit of your stomach.

“You gonna cum, sweetheart?” he asked, almost mockingly. You cried, fingernails digging into his biceps so harshly, the skin nearly broke with pebbled drops of blood. “Yeah? Go ahead, I’ve got you.”

Your own body was betraying you, and you succumbed to the burst of bliss, chest pressing up against his, needy cries singing from your lips. Your eyes spotted with hints of black, the stimulation becoming overbearing.

Simon didn’t allow himself his own pleasure until you had yours, so when he felt you clench around him in a vice, he let himself go, spilling into you and flooding you with milky warmth. It coated your insides like a beautiful painting, filling you with douses of his undying affection.

He slumped on to you, face buried in the crook of your neck. The two of you laid there in comforting silence, catching your breaths and processing the new intimacy formed between you.

While you were riding on a cloud of euphoria, Simon was being dragged into the deepest pits of hell.

Selfish.

What a horrible person he was. All he had to do was let you go, but he did even worse than he had done before.

This was worse than killing men and women. This was worse than killing Graves out of rage.

He was going to leave you behind, make you feel like you meant nothing more than a calculated fuck, and he was going to burn in hell for it. All because he fell in love with you, all because he couldn’t kill you.

When Simon helped clean you up and buried you in your blankets, he waited until you were asleep, sedated and happy. Your frown lines were smoothed over with a look of peace and ecstasy, and he traced along the flush of your skin until he knew it was time.

He carefully made his way out of the comfort of your bed, movements slow as not to disturb you. He gathered his clothes, sifting them on with a hint of resentment for his own actions, and he left.

Just like that, he left.

Simon blocked your number without so much as a goodbye text, or an explanation, telling you that you did nothing wrong. He didn’t tell you that he was the issue, that he was the one in the wrong. Didn’t tell you he fell in love with you, and now he was facing the consequences for it.

He typed out one final message to Price, hoping to satisfy the bastard for what he forced him to do.

“It’s done.”

[theladybrownstarot]

Pick-a-card : Wholesome June 2024 monthly Reading for you !

𐙚 Here's my masterlist for more !

𐙚 Make sure you like/follow/reblogg for more pacs like these!

Pile 1. Pile 2. Pile 3.

𐙚 Pile 1.

Namaste pile 1 ! Let's get with your reading :-

The first phase of june will result of completion and new start of something very good , you will be in flow and stability with yourself in all aspects , also , you will be focused and aligned with your destiny's path . Any increment in income , promotion and a god time to buy a house can be seen .

The second phase, is about meeting your friends , some other collaboration and celebration of any kind of milestone , you may travel from your home to somewhere . There's a possibility to make new friends or you may get people of your kind and needs . Very harmonious vibes are coming from the second phase .

The third phase of your june may lead you to meet your soulmate or you may connect with someone from your past , a good time for business partnership and implementations of new plans can be seen .

This month you people will be able to break your chains off from negativity inside and outside you , there maybe a break of something which you didn't want to happen but everything that will be happening this month will be for your good only .

𐙚❀˖° Monthly Advice : worrying to much will attract more things to worry sbout .

have you been overly critical ?An apology may be in order.

stop second-guessing yourself .

raise your karma by doing something good for someone else.

Declutter your life and prioritise what needs to be , start to oragnise first and then start .

𐙚❀˖°Prominent placements and planets : and Pisces, jupiter , saggitaurus, aries , scorpio , cancer , 3rd house , 4th house , moon in virgo .

𐙚 Pile 2.

Namaste pile 2 ! Let's get with your reading :-

The first phase of june for you may start with over-thinking , confusion and fear but you can and will get out through this for sure , don't take take a lot of stress on yourself also that you are being advised to sleep properly or we say be mindful about your mental health .

The second phase , you will enjoying a lot don't worry also that the things you were fearing will actually start to favour you or we say things will be turning in your favour . The only thongs you need to proceed is with faith within yourself and do what needs to be .

The Third phase , you may face some sort of disappointment or you will start to become defensive and protective about yourself both at the same time ,you may come across some obstacles- a test from universe which you will pass . One thing that do not always belive that you are right listen to other's side also .

𐙚❀˖° Monthly Advice : Heal yourself by loving your life more .

Stop worrying and start believing more.

Start doing things with proper intention and mindset .

Start loving your enviorment more .

You will get love when you will give love .

𐙚❀˖° Prominent zodiacs and placements: moon in capricorn, mars in aquarius, scorpio ,Pisces, taurus ,virgo , moon in 3rd/4th house .

𐙚 Pile 3.

Namaste pile 3 ! Let's get with your reading :-

The first phase of june may continue with some same common problems you had later where you will be hopeful again by leaving it behind . I see people healing or connecting with their emotional aspects like you are understanding yourself and situation around you because of which you will grow emotionally .

The second phase of june Be aware of any traitor around your circle or known , also i see that you are able to get best mental clarity and are able to leave rooted toxic system behind , you are getting rid from the things you always wanted . You are facing and making the move rather running away from it .

The third phase of june you may get into into some confusion and inner conflicts again as you are diving deep inside you , you are meeting your shadow self by provoking it through doing those things which triggers it . You are using your intuition and are solving your problem in a flow .

𐙚❀˖° Monthly Advice:Be bold and make the first move .

Follow your heart and your emotions.

Avoid recklessness or moving too fast .

Come into your power; the time for action is now!

Bappa mourya is with you !

Have some good time with your friends .

𐙚❀˖° Prominent placements and planets: Pisces, scorpio , cancer , gemini , libra , aquarius , moon , 8th house , 12th house , mars and saturn .

──⭒─⭑─⭒────⭒─⭑─⭒──

©️ @theladybrownstarot 2023 all rights reserved. Any stealing Or copying of work will be a punishable offence.

[cobaltperun]

Mad Love

Bottom Cairo Sweet x Top female (G!P) Reader (Smut, minors do not interact)

Basically Genius 7.5

Story Masterlist

Word count 4.4k

You would be lying if you said you were okay with Cairo’s recent visitor, and sure, you were jealous, but more than that, you were worried about her. Why did he insist on spending so much time with her and being that close during classes? Sick fuck… Well, problems for Monday, for now you wanted to give her the letter mistakenly left at your address and seeing as she was clearly dressed up for something leave her to it. You pulled the letter out of your jacket and noticed the way she smiled, as if she was expecting it. “The mailman left this at my parent’s place. I think he doesn’t like coming all the way over here,” you tried to joke, to release the tension you were currently feeling as you stepped closer to her. One of you was already wet from the rain, so Cairo getting wet as well wasn’t needed.

You handed the letter to her and, even through your glove, you felt as if lightning passed through you. Fuck, you needed to leave before you did or said something you couldn’t take back, besides, she looked so stunning you had to stop yourself from staring. “I’ll leave you to whatever you dressed up for. You look, never mind, I should go,” you turned, she most certainly didn’t dress up for you. And that, as much as you hated to admit it, made you jealous.

She wouldn’t be yours. No matter how hard you wanted her to be. Then, before you could fully realize what was going on she was grabbing you and pulling you back to her, the phone and the letter falling from her hand, and you somehow managed to catch them both. But, while you were busy catching her things you dropped your umbrella and she took your helmet off, tossing it to the side carelessly, and you would have complained. “Hey! Watch the hel-“ you did try to complain, but then you saw her eyes, you saw her lips and suddenly it didn’t matter that you helmet was somewhere on the grass, or that your motorcycle was getting wet as the rain started falling even harder. “Cairo,” you breathed out her name as if that was the last word you ever wanted to say and pressed your forehead against her own. She was going to get wet like this, her hair was already a bit damp.

“How do I look?” she asked, and you shivered as her fingers went from the bottom of your jacket to your collar and you watched as the raindrops glided across her bare arms. You watched as her dress got soaked in the rain, and you just put her phone and the letter into your pocket before pulling her closer. You needed to have her close, to feel the fabric of her dress, to touch her skin, to hold her.

“Like the most tantalizing poem ever created and then given flesh,” you spoke, feeling like no amount of oxygen you breathed was enough as your lips brushed over hers and you pleaded through your eyes for the permission to just kiss her.

And she gave it to you. “Satisfy those desires then,” she spoke, and you could no longer resist her, you pressed your lips against her, feeling like the two of you fit together like pieces of a puzzle that was broken apart a long time ago. Your tongue brushed against her lips and she eagerly opened her mouth, eagerly pressed her own tongue against yours and neither of you cared that the rain was turning into a downpour. She was in your arms, she was kissing you, you could touch her, run your fingers through her wet hair, you could pull her closer. It wasn’t enough with the gloves on, and you just took them off, tossed them carelessly aside and sighed into the kiss as you felt her skin against your bare hands.

It wasn’t enough yet. Just kissing her wasn’t enough, you gasped, filling your lungs with oxygen as you got lightheaded, intoxicated by her. You tugged at her soft hair, your heart skipping a beat when she leaned her head back with the quiet moan. “You’re a need I can never satisfy,” you confessed, kissing her neck and memorizing each sound her erratic breathing produced. “You’re a dream I can’t wake up from,” you went lower, kissing her left shoulder as her fingers unzipped your jacket. “The only melody that can fill my silence,” You bit her lightly, inducing more soft gasps as she pushed your jacket down, as her hands slipped underneath it and clutched your shirt.

Suddenly, she moved her hand to your chin and lifted it up to kiss you again with even more intensity than before. Her tongue slipped into your mouth, rough and desperate, and you felt a string of saliva breaking apart as you separated. “You’re the desire that inspires me,” you admitted, looking into her eyes before her lips found yours once more.

“Then be inspired, my madness. Take me in all the ways you desire,” madness, that was exactly what all of this was, and if you were her madness, you’d gladly accept that role. And you would take her, as long as she doesn’t stop you, you were going to take her, And her whisper, as she said that, fuck your jeans were getting uncomfortably tight. “I’m yours, every part of me, in every way you want me. Love me, Y/N,” she sighed, and you latched your mouth onto the side of her neck, aiming to leave a hickey that would last for a while, that would let everyone know she was all yours.

“You know I’ll stop if you tell me, right?” you asked her when you separated your mouth from her neck and she just returned the favor, biting your neck and leaving a deep mark on it, and damn, you had no idea you liked it mad.

“Do I look like I want you to stop?” she asked, slipping her hand into your pocket and pulling the letter out. “This is for you, the letter, the dress, what’s underneath it, all of me,” she told you, causing your eyes to widen at that revelation. She planned this, well, maybe not everything, but your arrival, she most definitely planned on that. And that turned you on even more.

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” you lifted her up bridal style because you weren’t sure how else to carry her with the ridiculously hot dress she had on. You lost your shoes somewhere along the way, though you were sure they were lost inside the mansion.

Cairo ripped the letter open. “You want to read what you’re doing to me? Take me to the bedroom and you can read all about it,” she pulled herself up and moaned right into your ear and your entire body felt like it was on fire. You weren’t sure how, but you managed to get to her bedroom, but your patience was already at its limit, and you pressed her against the closed doors.

You took one glance at the letter she was offering you and chucked it to the side. “I’m busy, tell me what you wrote,” you suspected it before, but tugging the straps of her dress while the two of you shared desperate, breathless, kisses, confirmed she wasn’t wearing a bra. You groaned into the kiss, feeling her soft breasts under your touch. You cupped her breasts, felt her nipples get hard under your thumbs, and you needed more.

“Fuck!” she hissed as you pressed your thigh between her legs and her eyes widened as she felt the bulge in your pants. “Strap?” she gasped as she took your elbow guards off and threw them to the floor or somewhere in the room.

“No,” you rasped, taking the jacket off and letting it fall to the floor, not caring one bit for your or her phone at the moment. You had her in your arms, you were kissing her, leaving hickeys all over her neck and shoulders. You bent down a bit, kissing each of her nipples as she slipped a hand down to cup your cock through your clothes and you bit back a groan.

“Fuck, I need this inside me,” she rasped, unzipping your jeans and slipping her hand into your boxers to feel your already fully erect cock and you felt relief as she gently pulled it out of your clothes. She looked down, her smile widening as her thumb rubbed the head of your cock. And then she pushed you back until you walked into her bed and fell back.

She bit her lower lip and pushed her dress the rest of the way down, baring her naked body for you to see. “I want you to take me,” she got on top of you, and you could only watch, still surprised that she had nothing underneath the dress. You took your shirt and bra off as she pulled your jeans and boxers further down and licked her lips as she grinded her naked pussy on your cock and teased both of you.

“Damn, Cairo,” you groaned, throwing your head back as she stopped grinding on you and wrapped her hand around you. “A bit gentler,” you hissed when she squeezed a bit too hard.

“Sorry,” she pecked you on the lips, her smile apologetic and a bit sheepish. “Is this okay?” she asked as she slowly moved her hand up and down along your shaft.

“Yeah, the letter,” you sighed, clenching your eyes shut and reaching for her.

“Relax, let me make you cum,” she whispered in your ear and used her other hand to keep your arms above your head, and you let her, enjoying the warmth of her body pressing against yours and her hand around your shaft.

“I’m burning up, drowning in my desire,” she began sensually, slowly, making dramatic pauses as she began whispering right in your ear, and you clutched the sheets beneath your hands. “I’m alone, longing for you, your hands touching my body, exploring every bit of me, your lips marking all the different paths between my breasts, my lips, my pussy, anything you want. It’s all yours,” she moaned softly into your ear. “I want to touch myself as I write this for you, I want to quench the thirst within me, I want to cum with my fingers deep inside my pussy while I scream your name. I want to lick my fingers and pinch my nipples, to imagine it’s your mouth, your teeth, your tongue.”

You couldn’t keep your hands to yourself, you had to touch her, your hands gripped her sides, and you moved them up, all the way to her firm breasts. “Keep going,” you demanded, your eyes finally opening to look her in the eyes, to take in her lustful gaze.

“I want you to play with my breasts, to squeeze them, press them together, to show me they are enough for you, to make me whimper and beg for the sweet relief only you can give me as you pull my nipples,” you did everything as she spoke, her breath shaking just a bit more with every command you listened to.

Cairo needed more, she craved your touch. It felt so good to feel your hands on her breasts, but she was greedy, she wanted more, she wanted to feel your cock inside her. Fuck, you were big, and hard, and desperate for her touch, and she basked in that desperation, she felt her pussy growing wet as she told you all her desires, as she imagine how it would feel to be pounded by you. “I want you to play with my nipples until they get sore,” she paused, inhaling sharply as you tugged a bit harsher on her nipples. “And then I want you to soothe them with your mouth,” you were yet to do that, she wasn’t in the position for you to easily do it. “And when you’re done with my breasts, when you are satisfied, I want you to move lower, to spread my legs and look at me. My pussy is soaked right now, I want to touch it, I need to. The thought of everything you could do to me is driving me insane. I’m not touching it though, it’s like I’m edging just for you, hoping you’ll come and fuck me soon. I want you to do it, I want to feel you bending me over, making me kneel on the bed for you. I want you to push my legs apart, to spread my pussy, my soaking wet, untouched pussy, and devour it. Be rough, be gentle, be whatever you want to be, just make me cry your name. Make me take it as you fuck me, hard and rough, or soft and sensual, whichever way you see fit as long as your fingers are inside me!” she’s never been as focused on sounds as you were, but she couldn’t deny how wet the sound of your labored breathing was making her. She watched you, falling apart with your cock in her hand.

“I want to be ravaged by you, until I’m a broken mess, until my virgin pussy takes shape of your fingers. I want to fall apart on your fingers, your tongue,” she could feel your cock twitching. “I desperately want to be yours, to feel my virgin pussy clenching around your fingers, to feel your tongue on my clit. I want to be eaten. Devoured. Taken again and again, on my knees, on my back, my side, against the wall, or on the floor, or maybe you want to on the table. Do you want me to cum all over our book?” she whispered, nibbling on your ear as you moved from her breasts and hugged her, your fingers digging into her skin as your precum leaked. “Hmm, Y/N? Do you want to leave marks on my body, visible to anyone caring enough to look? I want that, I need everyone to know I’m yours and that you are mine. Ruin me however you want, wherever you want,” her breath hitched, pussy gushing as she imagined you taking her but not just anywhere. She imagined you bending her over the motorcycle, while the engine was still on and staking your claim on her, spreading her open and splitting her on your hard cock, and then coming deep inside her. Then she’d get dressed and, with your cum still inside go on with her day. “Come and take me, I’m desperate for you, I’m madly in love with you,” she finished repeating what she wrote to you and went down, licking the head of your cock and feeling it twitch.

“Cum for me,” she whispered against your cock and took it in her mouth. She went down, trying to put as much of it as she could in her mouth, and she moaned, wondering how it would feel inside her. She wasn’t entirely sure what she was doing, but you weren’t complaining as her tongue circled the head of your cock.

“Cairo,” you moaned eventually. “I’m about to cum,” she sucked harder, wanting you to finish in her mouth. “Cairo!” you cried out, warning her one last time before you came into her mouth. She watched as your cock softened slowly and swallowed, proud of her efforts for her first blowjob. “Fuck,” you sat up, breathing deeply as you looked her in the eyes. “So, about the things you mentioned in your letter,” you grinned, pulled your jeans and boxers off completely and lifted her up. She wrapped her arms and legs around you and curiously looked you in the eyes as you went over to her table and laid her down on top of it. You spread her legs and your mouth twitched as you watched her pussy lips spreading a bit.

“I’ll be taking you now,” you said, she took control for a while, but she wanted you to devour her, and that was what you were going to do. You hunched over her and pulled her swollen nipple into your mouth. You sucked hard, twirling your tongue around the small nub.

As you did that you slipped your hand against her pussy and teased her, just gently rubbing her pussy lips and occasionally tracing a finger between them. “Take what’s yours,” Cairo encouraged you, breathing heavily now that she was the one getting all the attention.

“Tell me more,” you pleaded, desperate to hear more from her. “What do you want me to do right now?” you switched your attention to her other nipple, sucking it gently.

She knew what she wanted, she wanted to feel that engine roaring beneath her while you pounded into her from behind. “Fuck me on your motorcycle!” she cried out and you had to pause,

“You know what, I might just do that one day,” you smirked when she gasped, seeing as she likely didn’t expect you to agree in any way shape or form, “But, first,” you slowly slipped a finger inside her and began gently pumping it in and out, she was so damn tight, but she was aroused, wet, and after just a bit you could slip your finger in easier. “I’ll just fuck you like this,” you went down on her and took her clit into your mouth as she whined and whimpered. Her hands went to your shoulders and the back of your head as you ate her out.

“More, please, Y/N,” she cried out, her walls clenching even tighter as you added another finger inside. The table shook beneath her as she rocked her hips against your face and fingers, but you just kept going. You were driving her mad, she never felt anything close to this, the sensations of your wet tongue on her pussy, the fingers reaching deep inside her, the fact that you were doing it on her table where she wrote the letter, when she had to resist touching her soaking wet pussy. “It’s happening,” she whined, the pressure she only read about in the books that threatened to explode within her, the extasy she could only imagine up until now, it was happening, she was right there. “I’m coming!” she gasped, her eyes widened as you massaged her between her asshole and pussy with your free thumb. “Y/N!” she screamed your name, coming hard and arching her back, pushing against you just so she could prolong the contact, her very first orgasm, made even more special since it was given to her by you. You kissed her thighs, massaged her gently, and she felt herself calming down gradually. It took her a moment, but she began coming down from her high, still sensitive when you pulled back, observing the results of your work. If she didn’t feel so good she would complain about the cocky smirk on your face, but she wasn’t fully satisfied and she already began squeezing her breasts, pushing them together and rubbing her legs together. “Keep going,” she demanded and reached out for your cock as she did so. It wasn’t fully hard yet, but you were getting hard, and her grabbing it definitely wasn’t slowing the process down. “Take me,” she demanded, pulling you in and once again teasing her entrance with your cock.

“Mhm,” you kissed her lips quickly and then squeezed her thigh. “Get on your hands and knees,” you ordered, surprised slightly when she obeyed right away and presented her ass to you.

Cairo wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but you inserting two fingers into her from behind instead of your hard cock wasn’t one of those things. “I want to stretch you out real well,” you explained as Cairo began fucking herself back on your fingers. You didn’t even have to move them, she was eagerly doing all the work, and you only wished you could see her face at the moment.

 “Oh! Oh, Y/N!” she moved her hips back, pushing your fingers deeper into her. “More! Fuck me!” her hands gave in, and she dropped to her forearms as she kept fucking herself on your fingers.

“You want to be mine?” you asked her, though her letter and everything she was doing made the answer fairly obvious.

“YES!” she shouted, her movement growing erratic as you watched her trembling in pleasure.

“You’re all mine, Cairo,” you assured her and pulled your fingers out so you could rub her clit with them. “And I’ll fulfill every single desire you have, I’ll make you cum any way you want,” you assured her as she cried out from your fingers teasing her clit as you felt desperate to hear more of her cries of pleasure.  

She writhed, close to her second orgasm of the day as you ghosted your lips over her pussy, occasionally peppering kisses all over it. It felt so good, and she made sure to moan to let you know, but she needed more. “I need your tongue inside me!” she gasped, begging you to do more. You went down on her, your tongue penetrating her as her pussy throbbed.

And amidst all those sensations she felt your once again hard cock pressing against her thigh. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” she cried, digging her fingers into the wooden table as she arched her back. She felt like she was burning up, like a torrent of fire engulfed her. “Y/N!” she screamed your name as she came, her entire body shaking and mind processing the pleasure she never experienced before as the second orgasm hit her even harder than the first. She lifted her head up, realizing there was a bit of drool on her forearms now, she turned around and just began breathing heavily to catch her breath.

You watched as her face morphed into pure bliss when you lifted her up and brought her back to bed as her body slumped against it. “Did I tire you out?” you teased as you kissed your way up from her stomach to her neck, but she tilted your chin up with the tips of her fingers and captured your lips in a kiss. It was quick, but it lasted long enough for Cairo to grasp your cock and stroke it a few times.

“Take me,” she whispered against your lips, and you smiled, fully intending to follow her demands.

“Got a condom? Or are you on a pill?” you asked.

“No, but, I want to feel you inside me, raw, I want you to cum inside me, to fill me up, make it drip out of my pussy all night long. We’ll deal with it in the morning,” she told you softly, though there was a bit of uncertainty in the way she held onto you. It wasn’t that she worried about doing it raw, she was worried you’d say no.

“As you wish,” you gently stroked her cheek, getting lost in her eyes, the frantic, desperate need to make love to her, the adrenaline pushing you faded for the most part, and you wanted her to have the best first experience you could offer her. “I’ll go slow,” you promised as you spread her legs and teased her entrance.

“Only at first,” she countered as you slowly pushed in, pausing as she breathed deeply and adjusted to your cock being inside her. She wasn’t the only one who had to adjust, though. Her pussy was vastly different from her hand and mouth, it squeezed around your cock, and it took a lot of effort not to get overwhelmed by how tight she was, and damn were you glad you already came once.

She was tight, warm, and clenching around you so hard you struggled to move, and she groaned with a large smile on her face. “It doesn’t hurt, fuck it doesn’t hurt, I feel so full!” she moaned, encouraging you to start thrusting into her. “Take me,” she pleaded as she slowly started to move alongside you, meeting your thrusts almost halfway there and moaning even harder as you slipped a hand between the two of you and began rubbing her clit.

Your thrusts picked up speed and so did her cries of pleasure and you had the opportunity to listen to her most exquisite moans she let out. “More, please fuck me more!” she begged, and you complied, speeding up a tiny bit more. You wanted her to cum again, before or right after you, it didn’t matter as long as she came again.

She felt so full, so stretched out and happy that she was doing this with you. “Faster,” she begged and as you sped up, as your thrusts became harder and faster, she realized she got what she wanted, she got her madman’s love. How else could all of this be described? The way you were desperately loving her, the way you were fucking her now, it was just rough enough for her liking. You weren’t ramming into her, jackhammering her pussy in the glorified ways so many of her books depicted, but your every move was filled with passion and desire, and she felt it deep inside her.

“Fuck, Cairo,” you were close again, just a bit more and you’d fill her up, she could feel that, she could feel your cock throbbing inside her, and it just made her clench around you even harder. And then, as her pussy squeezed your cock you came deep inside her, your cries of pleasure mixing with her own. She came again as she felt you filling her up, fulfilling her desires, and you were both spent, that much was clear.

You weren’t spent to the point of being unable to be there as she came down from her high, Her body shuddered as you softly massaged all the sensitive spots and Cairo purred relaxing under your touch once more, you peppered her with soft kisses and she absentmindedly gave you a towel from the drawer next to her bed. You cleaned her up, kissing her softly on the lips as your breathing calmed down. And then, after you truly were done for the day, the two of you fell asleep with Cairo in your arms.

Taglist: @deimaisgail @bee-keeping @marvelous-disaster @jmwetterlund @tekanparadiae

@alexkolax @ioveyouyouloveme @aaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh @autorasexy @lifeforsimp13

[sukunasdirtylaugh]

tags: ex!husband gojo x reader, gojo and reader both have a 3 y/o, flashback to making out, slight angst, satoru's father being on our side (maybe?), mentions of children, satoru slightly jealous, satoru and reader co-parenting

wc: 2.3k

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

You want the ground to eat you alive when you see your ex-husband, satoru making pancakes with your daughter as he once promised the night before. Saori, your three-year-old, is innocently unaware of the sexual tension from last night; mesmerized by the array of toppings in front of her.

“I, uh...” you feel awkward for intervening during this father-daughter moment. “If you need me, I’ll be taking a shower.” you add, “be good with papa, saori, ok?” when you see the two of them nod, like spitting images of one another, your cheeks tighten. making you turn your heel to the bathroom.

“make a heart for mama,” you hear your daughter giggle as your ex-husband's voice instructs, making you sigh as you’re already at the bathroom’s door.

(flashback from last night):

You don’t know what pulls you in, but you kiss him. hungrily. feverishly as your lips move against his as if he were yours, something you had decided to allow yourself to have. just this once. Satoru instinctively kisses you back, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist so as to not let you go. as if you would evaporate into thin air like smoke. he had to keep you with him, couldn’t let you leave. he didn’t want you to, not with the way you kiss him, the way your pretty fingers glide along his undercut just the way he likes it as your fingertips tug on his hair making him see stars. Your ex-husband takes the chance to press you against the wall. placing his thigh between your own, he allows his hands to travel up and down your sides, making you shiver ever so slightly as you pull him closer. the familiar heat and throbbing sensation within you pull him closer, not caring if you’d burn in the process. “Satoru...” you sigh against his lips. I want you. It’s a game of tug and pull, your mind urging you to him as he does nothing to pull back. and suddenly, you're reminded where you are. who you’re with, why you’re here, and the situation between you both makes you feel all the shame you would. you can't do this. you can’t call him yours, can’t murmur those three words, can’t do what you’d imagine in the late hours of the night. not when he's this close and this real to you. he wasn’t yours, and the realization was as bitter as your departure. “I have to go,” you exhale, pushing him away. no matter how weak your push was, satoru is off of you in an instant. pupils blown and lips swollen as he watches you walk away. heart and mind throbbing as he’s too dizzy to do anything. he’s frozen. unsure of what’s happened between the two of you. so he lets you go. even if he doesn’t want to let you. you force yourself to walk to your room where your daughter peacefully sleeps, closing the door behind you as you lean against it. eyes shut as you wrap your arms around you, releasing a small sigh of what feels like mixed want and possibly regret. what the hell did you just do?

When you return from your shower you find your daughter happily aid her father in setting up the table.

“mommy!” you daughter calls you, ecstatic over the pancakes set in display on the table, “say good morning to daddy!” and for a moment you want to slap yourself for educating your child so well. teaching her to always greet everyone with kindness. waving to satoru feels like a royal obligation before he simply waves back, resuming his attention to your daughter, explaining the different toppings he’s sorted out on the table. he whispers something to her. "... and have mommy choose her own toppings, 'kay princess?"

princess. you suddenly feel hot as you look away. grateful your daughter and ex-husband were too busy on the plates to notice you walk towards the kitchen, oddly reaching for a cold glass of water instead of coffee.

"everything okay?" you nearly jump, noticing your husband walk behind you. he reaches for a tablecloth inside a nearby cabinet.

"y-yeah, just a bit dehydrated." you explain, "your father's party will be inside, correct?"

"yes." satoru replies, "he mentioned something about having an indoor bouncy house. probably for all the kids coming."

"I didn't know you could do that, have them inside, I believe. bouncy houses were normally always outside when I was a kid. that or establishments would have them indoors."

"yeah, well I guess we'll just have to wait and see. I'm pretty sure my dad just made the arrangments inside so saori won't get sunburn. the weather forecast for today says it'll be warmer than usual."

"yeah," you chuckle dryly. "must be why I need more water." you awkwardly raise your glass a bit before looking over your shoulder, watching how your daughter neatly picks her strawberries, decorating them around her plate. "she seems to be having fun."

"yeah," your husband turns as well, "that's the goal, isn't it?"

you nod.

"we should probably join her." you say, walking past him, "wouldn't want her to feel too alone, would we?"

"are you still trying?" satoru is suddenly pulled from his thoughts by his father who holds his daughter, smothering her in affection while your ex-husband watches you across the room laugh politely at something higuruma, his father's soon-to-be lawyer, says. too close for his liking.

"yeah," he murmurs, slightly annoyed. he quickly offers you a carefree, reassuring smile when you turn to see him, eyes looking for your daughter as you stand across the room. relax, he tells you with his smile, she's fine.

your motherly stare and sigh makes his stomach swirl, shortly before you've returned to converse with hiromi while satoru turns to his father. "sorry, what did you say?"

"I said," his father enunciates, "this is my favorite grandchild."

"well, she's your only grandchild."

"I know, and I should blame you for these shortcomings. I thought I'd have another by now. it's one of the things that is wrong with your generation, your perception of divorce. when I was your age, marriage was forever. through thick and thin. not this." and satoru can only sigh, reminiscing of times where he too thought forever was with you.

(flashback):

"sounds like somebody loves me." "somebody does," satoru grins, tightening the grip around your waist as the two of you lay in soft sheets, away from the world in a last-minute romantic weeklong getaway trip. he smiles, "and somebody said yes to marrying me. lucky girl." "is she?" the humor in your tone makes him laugh. "I don't know... I think she's very brave to do that, sacrificing herself, what a hero." he chuckles, "maybe... maybe she deserves a statue? a medal?" "a bracelet would be just fine after that ring you just got me." you grin. "silver or gold?" "oh, you know me. white gold obviously." "I know. I just love that look in your eyes when I do that to you." "do what?" "mess with you." "you're so mean." "I know, but you love me." "unfortunately," he dramatically gasps at your word, making you stifle a laugh. "I'm kidding, satoru. just... be nice for the rest of the night. will you?" "can do, princess," he grins, "want me to get you that new purse you saw at the mall the other day?" "you don't have to buy my feelings, you know." "I know, but I like making you feel like you can get anything you want. especially from me." he kisses the top of your head, "that's my job." "and mine?" "to love me, of course. and to feel loved." "anything else?" he hums. "maybe give me a baby. if we're both ready, that is." "you really want one?" "with you? of course. not to mention you'd look beautiful all swollen..." he kisses your cheek, "...sensitive..." he kisses your chest, squeezes your hip, "godly... and they say women have a pregnancy glow." "mmm... what if I don't have a glow? what if I'm all-" "impossible. you already have a glow. always. pregnant or not. besides, how could I not worship you when you're carrying my child? you're doing the most important job of all, and I'd love you regardless. baby or not." "you're doing too much satoru." "mm... that's because I love you." "you do" you whisper, cupping the back of his head, fingers between his locks as you pull him closer, "so so much."

(flashback):

"do you think we'll last forever?" you ask, softly above a whisper in the comfort of your shared bed. it had been 3 days since your arrival to tahiti, a week-long romantic getaway where satoru proposed on your first night of arrival. too lovesick to wait. as you're laid at his side, satoru takes your hand and kisses your fingertips, lazily at the back of your hand. "why do you say that?" he tries to mask his tone with humor, "already having second thoughts after I proposed?" "no, no. not at all," you blush, "I just... I worry, is all, satoru. you know how things happen." "you know they can't go wrong. not when I love you like this," he says, rising up to place soft kisses behind your ear, "not when I've proposed already. even my dad knows, you know. so it's serious." "he... he does?" "of course," he holds back a laugh, "he mentioned marriage the minute you left, first time he saw you." he chuckles, "even the stars might be in our favor. everyone might as well be." you hum, holding him close as you nod, mindlessly basking in the warmth he gives you. "are you having second thoughts?" "no... just... worried for the future." you admit, "sometimes... I feel like I'm dreaming when I'm with you. like I'm bound to wake up and all that I've grown to love will one day disappear." you chuckle nervously, "sorry. it's the nerves." "we'll be fine," he reassures you, "and don't apologize. this is probably my fault for not reassuring you enough. so why don't you lay back and enjoy yourself while I make my future wife feel good, yeah?" he kisses the crown of your head, "it's about time I please my girl, mm?"

not much happens that day. saori's grandfather treats you kindly as possible, and as much as you try to deny it, you suspect he's upset with satoru over something. you worry it must be about him staying over with you, or the fact that he has a girlfriend and he stayed over his ex-wife's. you worry his father might see you differently, but the man treats you all but the same. taking time to ask what saori's interests have been now that she's older. satoru's father makes a mental note, keeping his granddaughter's interests as ideas for future gifts. the man held some likeness to satoru; he loved giving gifts. it was one of the few things that tied father and son alike.

"how has he been with you, now that you're co-parenting?" your father in law asks. from a distance, you watch satoru nod at something nanami kento, the finances leader department chair, says. the two of them were moderate friends. you'd known since he was invited to your wedding. it wasn't until after your divorce that you've stopped speaking with him. your social groups have all shifted as a result.

"he's been fine," you tell him, "we... we try to be flexible about it. I don't want us to be like most stereotypical divorced parents. making our child choose one or the other or imposing damaging habits," you say, feeling yourself go on autopilot as you hold your daughter. she seems to be wanting to take a nap. "satoru and I try to make it work."

"forgive me for asking," your in law gently intrudes, "but... what of his mistress? has he-"

"-he's been doing his best," you tell him. "he... I don't really get into his other personal affairs, but..." you bite the inside of your cheek and swallow, feeling dryness in your throat. "he seems to be serious with her."

"and... do you mind?"

"I worry about saori." you tell him. "all I care is about her. I just..." you sigh, trying to find the right words, "I just worry about her one day feeling like she was the spare child, or her feeling cast aside." you furrow your brows. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do as a mother, and I don't know what satoru plans to do either." you pause. "I just don't want to overwhelm him, I suppose. with work, being a dad, and navigating a relationship, I..."

"you worry about making him feel like he's got too much on his plate."

"yeah." you exhale, "the last thing I want is to distance us more than what we are." following your eyes, your in law speaks.

"I understand your concern. from what I've known, my son was always in love with you, and I'm certain he still carries some of that love for you and your child. my question is, would you consider starting fre- oh," your in law pauses, surprised to greet his son. "you've returned."

"it's almost 3." satoru says, turning to you, "saori's nap time. has she...?"

"she wants to, but she's kind of struggling with the ambience of so many people around her..."

"I can take her to bed," your ex-husband suggests, "my dad has a private room above this floor. we can have her rest there."

"then I'll go with you," you say, standing as you carry your daughter. "I'm a bit tired myself, if that's alright."

"no, yeah." your ex-husband thoroughly nods, motioning you to join him, "I'll show you where, yeah? I suppose I could also use the minute. this room feels a bit stuffed," and when you turn to face your in law, you note he's already gone. wondering if he's left to talk to another executive or grant his son a minute alone with his ex-wife in hopes of...

"just follow me," he says, and you do.

[bunny584]

For I Have Sinned ୨୧ Chapter III

“Abstain from sinful desires, which wage war against your soul.” 1 Peter 2:11

Priest Geto has unfaltering faith in his hands. They have traversed deadly straits. Blossomed gardens. Taken and given life.

Can he trust his hands to mold you for another man?

Pairing: Geto x Female reader

Art credit: Grartss on tumblr/insta

A/N: someone needs to peel me away from I wanna Be Yours x Artic Monkeys and the third scene. That song fits TOO perfectly to my ears. I hope this chapter edges you just as much as it did me.

Previous | Next

CHAPTER III: Courtside

Duchess, 

Allow me to apologize. It was inappropriate to end our session so abruptly. 

You have been on my mind. It will serve your marriage best for you and the Duke Ahriman to pursue individual counseling prior to pre-marital counseling. 

I cannot guide you to love one another, your hearts will make that determination. But I can help unravel your layers; to allow for independent growth. Having a strong sense of self, above all,  is paramount for successful matrimony.

Think on this proposal. If you both accept, we will proceed. 

Warmly, 

Suguru Geto

Suguru Geto. 

His name tastes just as rich as it reads. 

Elegant. 

Too ethereal to be bound by ink and manila paper.

A name like that is meant to be said out loud. Shouted from the mountain top. Meant to be worshipped. 

Praised. 

“Darling? Are you decent?” Ezra calls from the other side of your heavy chamber doors. 

You flicker down to your robe. Technically you aren’t. But your continued attempts to avoid your betrothed — conscious or not — remain futile. 

Especially, today. Your formal introduction to court. The future Duchess Ahriman. You will be fused to Ezra’s side for hours on end. Grateful to have been bestowed the honor. An honor you will spend your life upholding. 

Pro Deo et patria. 

For God and Country. 

“Yes, I’m decent.” Hoping whatever he needs can be addressed from behind your barrier. 

“May I, my love?” 

A bitter scoff glides down your throat, but your words seep sweet. “Yes of course!”

Arella, who is diligently arranging your formal attire on the golden rack, fetters over to welcome the Duke.

Instinctively, your hand tightens the silk knot as he steps into view in your mirror. Ezra’s emerald gaze is warmer than the Grecian sun. Excitement buzzing off of his boyish grin and short strides to your vanity. 

The Priest’s letter finds its away into your pocket, just as strong hands land on your shoulders. 

Ezra didn’t notice. And why would he? The letter isn’t illegal.

“How are you feeling?” Like plush Evergreens withstanding all seasons, Ezra peers into you and roots you in place.

He’s unwavering, your fiancé. He doesn’t yield so easily. 

“Are you ready for tonight?” 

“Not like I have a choice in the matter.” 

Almost instantly you regret the response. The Duke offers you a pained smile and tender kiss on the crown. 

A sudden gust of wind brings the bouquet of fresh Dahlias to everyone’s attention. Ezra rubs a soft petal between his fingers. 

“These are outstanding, darling. Who brought them to you?”

Before a half truth drips off your tongue, Arella speaks up, taking stride toward where you sit. 

“I picked them this morning. From the garden.”

She grazes over your empty, half parted mouth.  Planting her own kiss on your warm canvas.

“We should get ready for the ball, yes little Dove?” 

Ezra’s good natured laugh overflows. He raises both palms in feigned retreat.

“I suppose that is my queue. I’ll take my leave.” Your handsome fiance keeps his word. Shutting the heavy doors behind him. 

“Arella!” Your head whips around to face your beautiful handmaiden. 

She is swanlike. Coordinating the intimate pieces of your gown. Not another word on her lips but a whole diary on her face. 

“Why did you lie for me?” Your hands steady her busy ones. 

Arella’s voice is small enough to fit through the cracks in the walls. 

“My allegiance is to you and only you, little Dove.”

 · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · 

“Under His Eye, Father.”

“Under His Eye, Rhea.” 

“Blessed Be The Fruit, Father.”

Of course. The greeting used when women are trying for child, the handmaiden chose to use with him. Suguru offers a polite, but pointedly distant smile.

Since his arrival to the compound, there hasn’t been a shortage of high court handmaids and the women they tend to ‘greeting’ him in a similar way. 

Well within the unspoken rules of engagement, but a message served loud and clear. 

“May The Lord Open, Seren.”  Suguru returns the pleasantry as scripted. 

The pretty maiden smiles like a Cheshire kitten. Taking her position in line behind the clergymen. Suguru keeps his gaze ahead. Remaining neutral in the midst of hushed giggles and whispered praises. 

His index finger wires beneath the formal collar. Tonight is the first of a long line of celebrations he will have to stomach. 

A commemoration of a new contract between families. A new marriage of countries. A long awaited treaty as precarious as the peak of Mauna Kea. 

And as the appointed Chaplain he is tasked with praying over each event. Handing out blessings to the soon-to-be-wed and those that wish them no harm. 

He’s already exhausted.

The processional begins and all extraneous chatter settles to the ground. Just in time for you and the Duke to step into view. At the height of the sprawling staircase, there you stand. 

Regal. 

Breathtaking.

Not a single strand out of place. The rigid corset digs into the small of your waist — accenting the feminine swell of your hips. Sage satin drips off the rolls and hills of your mind-altering lines. 

Curve and dip. 

Curve and dip. 

Your figure could render the most veteran fishermen seasick. 

Then your eyes collide with his and Suguru nearly falls backward. Knocking more air out of his lungs than any sea storm ever has. Ten times more deadly than the waves he rode along Drake’s Passage.

The infamous strait holds legend amongst seamen, old and new. The lethal dance between the South Atlantic, Pacific and Southern oceans gives way to the notorious Ship’s Graveyard.

At 60 degrees south of the Equator, Suguru’s father tweaked his usual saying before he dove off their vessel. 

“Below 40, there are no laws. Below 50, there is no God. Don’t go trying to find One, Son.” 

Suguru strips his eyes away from you. Currently plunging well below 60 degrees south, he will drown in you if he keeps gawking up like that.

Focus, Suguru. 

Lines from tonight’s production begin circulating in the Chaplain’s mind. Every moment rehearsed down to the breath. The night is already stifling. And he still has to look you in the eye and bid you a lifetime of love and prosperity with Ezra Ahriman. 

He’ll have to repent for the lie tomorrow. 

Patent leather dress shoes echo a path into the ballroom. Suguru and the rest of the priesthood fall behind the last line of noblemen. His stomach suddenly plummets lower than its usual residence. 

Public speaking isn’t the issue. 

A room full of eyes trained on his every word has never shaken his nerves. 

The problem is the air around him suddenly deciding to shed its layers. 

Leaving one, thin strip of sustenance left for Suguru to breathe in. While he rehearses the lies he has to spew in front of a congregation. 

Half of which is so forbidden. Basking in the thrill of lusting after a “Man of God” bound by law — biblical and not — to remain pure in the face of temptation. It’s thrilling for that half of the congregation. 

Then there’s the other half.

Seeing him for the foreigner that he is. 

The other. A man with eyes more inclement than the worst of Heaven’s rainfall. Who bares tattoos of a past life. Acting as if that part of himself is so far lost at sea.

That half of the congregation is counting the seconds until Suguru can be properly burned at the stake. Words he reads directly from the Bible sound like lies to their ears. 

Which half of the congregation do you reside in?

“Father, I have a hard copy of your speech if you want it.” Noel whispers, just a few paces away from entering the ballroom.

And Suguru is so fond of the boy. The little brother he never got to grow up with.

“I think I have a handle on it, Noel. Thank you.” The Chaplain flashes a brief smile his way before taking in the last gust of oxygen. Praying that it gets him through the dreaded speech.

Violin notes reverberate in sync with Suguru’s footsteps toward the podium. You are somewhere behind him. Probably 20 paces or so. Polite about your wave. Genuine about your smile. Convincing the masses that you are one of them. 

The decades your home country spent in war with them mean nothing. 

Welcome home, Duchess.

Suguru’s deft fingers wrap around the microphone. 

“Welcome in.” He starts. It takes nothing for the room to come to an obedient silence. Listening intently. Taking in every word.

“Please, may the congregation rise? To give and receive blessings this evening.” Suguru prompts the room, a gentle up-flick of his wrist, raising all to their feet. 

“I’d happily kneel, Father.” A muffled comment from the pretty handmaiden that made a point to greet him a few moments earlier. 

Normally, Suguru wouldn’t entertain it. But something about this being his first formal engagement strips his usual restraint. 

“Such a dedicated servant of the Lord, Seren.”The Chaplain glances over to the blushing crowd of women at his right. 

Seren’s outburst crumbles to nothing under his pointed gaze. And a collective chuckle fills the room.

That should be enough to stifle any additional outbursts. 

Here he goes. 

“To the Duke Ahriman, and the Duchess-To-Be.” Suguru tilts his glass of water up at the noble pews — everyone else holding goblets of red wine.

Beauty and grace lock his eyes into place. Coaxing words out of his parched throat. He couldn’t deny you his voice if he wanted to.  

“I pray the Lord brings you unwavering love,” A lie whipped sweeter than cream rolls off his tongue. Suguru’s eyes float from you to the Duke. An eager smile on his face. 

But, what is the expression you’re currently wearing, Duchess?

Are you desperate to come up for air, too?

“A never ending fountain of peace.” Suguru continues to bless the ‘happy’ couple. With eyes that can see with inhuman clarity below the level of sea that receives penetrance from Helios.

The Midnight Zone may as well be daybreak to the Chaplain. And those same sharp eyes see something other than joy in your face. Something other than peace. 

But he continues his script, nonetheless. 

“An unconditional well of prosperity.” Suguru shamelessly sips from your tantalizing presence. If someone whispered to him that you two were the last beings on earth right now, he’d believe it without question. 

The finishing lines cause physical pain.

“And most importantly, to an Ahriman heir.” Suguru chokes out. “For God and Country.”

The room erupts in near uncontrollable cheer. 

“For God and Country!”

“For God and Country.” 

You mirror the Preist’s words and he memorizes every twitch in your lips. Every intonation of your voice is burned into the most permanent part of his mind.

Festivities flicker past Suguru’s short term memory. The night is a complete daze. Hundreds of courteous smiles. Dozens of handshakes. A handful of empathic stares and one all-consuming gaze that halts the Father in his tracks. 

How are you allowed to exist when lust is apparently a sin?

The answer to that never comes.

Boisterous music. Drunken celebration. Complete disinhibition comes in full force instead. 

Suguru wires around the women flinging themselves into his embrace. 

No matter the intention, he wants no part of it. In fact, if he could make it home to steal a few hours of uninterrupted sleep he would consider the night a roaring success. There’s no telling how many seconds, minutes, hours have passed since the start of the celebration. 

Not until his eyes find you swallowing more  than a mouthful of red wine at the edge of your seat. Avoiding eye contact with everyone in the room as if the clouds are your native home. 

“Blessed be the fruit, Duchess.” An inebriated noble nearly trips into your arms. 

You narrowly miss his impact. The flame in your campfire gaze ascends high enough to singe the crescent moon. 

“May the Lord open.” Each one of your words sharper than swords made of dragonstone. 

Suguru starts to make his way over to flailing man, to rip him away from you at the very least. 

But you are more skilled than he is in still waters. Beneath your fiancés nose and a host of prying eyes you find an exit to slip past. 

The Chaplain’s feet move before a knowing smile tugs on his lips. 

Suguru knows exactly where to find the woman who doesn’t want to be found. 

 · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · 

Saline seabreeze intertwines with your loose mane. Erupting goosebumps along your exposed décolletage. Expanding the lungs imprisoned by your steel-boned corset.

Breathe.

The moon is curved and high. Super-terrestrial hands knead the low tide crashing along the cliffside. 

To what end?

Your mind searches for a finish line to the marathon. Desperately seeking refuge from the journey with no endpoint. Traveling further than Pheidippides, who ran hundreds of miles from the battlefield to the citadel to deliver news of victory. 

All before dropping dead. 

A chuckle more bitter than the goblet of wine escapes you. 

You would travel further just to be home. Even if it meant instant death in return.  

“For God and Country.” Sharp words through terse lips. “For God and Country.” 

Thick, unforgiving fog fills your brain space. Heels echo through the chapel garden, pebbling the stone path to the rocky edge. Red wine powers your clumsy stumble. Chasing an ever elusive clarity. 

The marathon continues.

“What if…what if I don’t serve your God.” You hiss at the stars above. 

Resentment more potent on your tongue than the spirits you ingested tonight. Before rules of conduct blare through your drunken haze, rolls of sage satin fill your balmy fists and you take a seat on the ground. Legs dangling over the edge. Enticing the dangers below. 

“For God and — what if I think your God is deaf and dumb and…and—“

“And He loves you all the same, Duchess.”

Oh, that voice. 

That voice that smells like honey. And tastes like a dream. And sounds like lilac. 

No.

Violet. 

Like the eyes of its owner. 

“Suguru!! I-I mean Father. Shit. I’m sorry.” Bitter resentment is replaced with sour regret. 

Did you really need that last serving of truth elixir?

The Chaplain lets out a deep, velvet chuckle. It runs smooth along the curve of your flushed cheeks. He takes a seat on the ledge. A full hand width or two away and yet, his presence kisses you in the way sun rays do, when they tuck in for the night.

“You must think I’m a petulant woman, Father.”  Shockingly sober words, thanks to the company beside you. 

Another rich, truffle laugh. You cant help but notice his prominent Adams Apple gliding down the muscular column of his throat. 

“My name sounds like a ballad when you say it.” Irises softer than an oil painting cement you in place. 

“Please use it.”

Because it is, Father. 

His name is a ballad. A sonnet. A monologue in its own right.

A love letter. 

“And what of my name, Suguru? When will you use it?” 

Sobriety flutters away as quickly as it cloaked you in the first place. Cobalt winds lift the hem of your dress. A sheet of goosebumps along your bare thighs now on display. 

From the glacial breeze? The damp earth beneath you?

…Or is it the way the Chaplain’s Adam’s Apple and gaze descends?

“When I’ve earned it, Duchess.” 

Long, deft fingers reach over to re-drape the  satin over your knees. You swallow a gasp before it erupts. 

Of course he fixed your dress. It’s where your hem belongs. Especially around a man who has taken a vow of celibacy. 

No, no. 

Especially as a woman who is engaged. Spoken for. Under the God he serves and the law you abide by. 

“I trust you’ll have enough..” Suguru’s lips curl up at a thought reserved for himself only. 

And somehow, the perfectly centered dimple  on his appled left cheek comes to your attention for the first time. 

“Enough what?” You probe, sinking in the cavern you’ve discovered. 

“Conviction.” Volcanic eyes trail up to the moon. “To tell me the exact moment when I’ve earned the privilege.”

Suguru gives you ample space to bathe in him while he bathes in moonlight.

It’s uncanny. 

How the Priest exists in two different places at once. Down here, with you on the cliff edge. He’s tangible. Thick locks in a poetic cascade down his back. Limbs nearly twice as long as yours, beckoning creatures that only break the surface of Leviathan’s playground to wreak havoc. 

Sure, he’s down here. 

But he’s also up there. 

Somewhere in the ether. Traversing altitudes well above the average, simple minded being. High enough for the Gods to confess their sins. Because Suguru is the only one worthy enough to forgive them.  

“You’re staring, Duchess.” His voice holds a grin, and that grin has fingers. 

Cruel, torturous fingers that pet and stroke and tease your throbbing core until it’s plush. Your cunt is more intoxicated than you are.

“Eyesight is not a sin, Father.” You retort, crossing your legs before any more arousal leaks from your warm sex. Your gall entirely fueled by Arella’s quote imbedded in your mind. 

“Suguru.” The Priest corrects.  His sleek, jet black brow elevates. You must be an amusing drunk. 

“Suguru.” You acquiesce with a bashful nod. 

“So demanding.” 

He gifts you his left dimple once more. A feature that is rapidly soaring through your mind’s construct. Undoubtedly the only boyish thing about the stallion of a man next to you. 

Straight from Poseidon’s steed. 

“Very.” He agrees. “Only when the time calls for it.” 

And what time would that be?

“The Dahlias I sent, did you enjoy them?” Suguru deftly redirects the conversation like a captain navigating treacherous waters. As if he heard the blasphemous thoughts starting to brew. 

“They are gorgeous.” 

Stifling heat emanates from your cheeks. You were so fond of the bouquet that you felt compelled to lie to your betrothed about the source. 

“Good.” His eyes capture a moon ray and holds it hostage. 

“And the letter?”

“I loved it!” A slurred confession. “I’ve re-read it more times than I can count on my fingers and toes.” 

How does his laugh sprint down your spine the way that it does? 

Unraveling you bit, by bit. You would stay drunk and stupid if it meant you could keep drawing that addicting sound out of his full lips. 

“I was referencing the proposal in the letter, Duchess.” 

Suguru’s eyes drop to your bottom lip, now rolled under your teeth. Not even a second passes before he flickers back out to the sea. And you’re grateful for the privacy to darken like Pinot Noir on a corkscrew. Both hands cup your reddened cheeks. 

“Yes, of course.” You wave, a matter-of-fact, of course. 

“I’ll do whatever you ask of me.” 

That response draws something new from the enigmatic Priest. 

Raven locks lift off his back from the speed at which his gaze recoils back to you. Lightning strikes the volcanoes in his eyes. A clenched fist and tense arm drops between his legs. 

Is he…steadying himself?

You can’t quite name his expression.  Wine or not, you’ve never seen anything like it.

It’s dark. Ominous. Full of bloodlust. 

And you’d gladly offer up a vein. 

“Pardon?” He rasps, completely fixated on your lips. As to not miss a single word of your answer.

Your hips roll around under his unrelenting stare. “I-I mean, you know best. I will do whatever you think is best for my marriage.”

Suguru barely hears your repeated answer, judging by the way he briefly makes eye contact, before re-settling on your mouth. Heat swells in your puffy cunt. Already hugging your thin, sodden undergarment. 

The Priest offers no words. 

Just a heady, quiet that pins you to the ground. And your mind, suddenly promiscuous, wonders if this is what it feels like to be beneath a man’s weight. Caged in by muscular arms. Scalded by fiery eyes tracing inch by inch. 

Not that you would know. 

Not that you know anything about making love. Or men. Or loving a man. 

“Will you…can you teach me how to love a man?” The tips of your ears threaten to melt off your head the second your sentence is complete.

Another shocking blow to the Father. His lips hang open in disbelief. For one, two, three seconds before he zips back up. Concealing his thoughts behind a courteous but very present steel barrier. 

“I—“ He starts carefully, averting away. “Surely you don’t need to be taught—“ 

“But I’m pure, Father.” You counter. Searing into his angular profile. “I’ve never…I don’t know how to—“ 

Cool fingers gently tilt your chin upward. To brand his correction into your memory. 

“Suguru.” The Chaplain’s voice glides lower than your inhibition. 

Something says that he won’t correct you a third time. 

Despite the temperature maintaining the same degree, a sharp jolt of pleasure straightens your spine as your nipples pebble against the silky fabric. You gnaw your cheeks to keep from physically squirming.

“S—Suguru.” You repeat. Subservience wets your drooling sex in a way that makes you want to keep following commands. 

Suguru’s tone rubs the folds in your brain smooth. 

“Good. Quick learner.” A pleased grin blooms across his lips. “I’ll start with focusing on you.”

The two of you slowly peel away from one another. Crashing waves replace the heady silence. 

Well, silence other than your heartbeat rattling between your ears. In your periphery, the Chaplain is now peering outward, at his true home. The coast is clear to return your greedy eyes back to his acute, feline features. 

Just enough of his mane is tied back to reveal a pretty mulberry dusting his high cheekbones and pointed nose. 

A pleasant surprise to know the demigod warms like the mortals he walks amongst.

“You’re blushing, Suguru.” Girlish satisfaction heavy on your tongue. 

Another decadent chuckle pets your womanhood. And this time you have to swallow a moan.

“As are you, Duchess.”

“Darling? There you are!” Ezra’s voice is just as, if not more sobering than his footsteps approaching. 

Too soon. 

Time bows at Suguru’s feet. The concept doesn’t exist around him. Someone, be it Arella or Noel or now, your soon-to-be husband, someone always has to physically draw you back to the present. 

Reality never comes on time. Always too late. Or in your case, always a little too early. 

The Chaplain is on his feet in seconds. He swiftly lifts you from the edge and sets you on solid ground. Leaving you dizzied and breathless on the surface. 

Guilty and red-handed beneath it. 

“Oh sweetheart,” Ezra paws at the soiled fabric, concern etched into his face. “Your dress is completely ruined.”

“I’ll live.” You’re sharper than intended. Surely, from the spirits still thrumming through your veins. 

Ezra falters like a wounded puppy. And it tugs on your tattered heartstrings.

“Thank you for the concern, Ezra.” You soften, thumbing his cheek. Purposefully avoiding the violet beams aimed at your face. And shoulders. And hands. 

As if the Priest is daring you to keep provoking his searing gaze. 

But your fiancé unravels under your rare display of affection. He eagerly leans over to kiss your forehead. Meanwhile your hand desperately magnets to your side. 

“Sorry for leaving so abruptly Ezra, I—I had a bit too much to drink and I needed air then—“

“Don’t give it a second thought, my love.” 

Your fiancé is gentle with you. Little strokes along the small of your back. And maybe…just maybe your reaction time is dulled because for don’t immediately flinch away.

“Individual counseling starting early then?” Ezra jests. Pristine jade eyes dance between you and Suguru. 

The Priest offers a smile about as warm as the Siberian tundra. 

“Hardly. Just ensuring the Duchess is out of harm’s way.”

Like your fiancé did with you, you flower under the pad of Suguru’s thumb. A brief swipe, to remove a stray saltwater droplet. But your skin scorches all the same. Unreasonably missing a touch that lasted all of half a moment. 

Ezra clears his throat and drops his broad, but not nearly as broad, shoulders.

“I received the memo from your office staff, Father. Please accept this as my formal agreement to proceed with individual counseling.” He reaches out and Suguru takes his hand firmly. 

“Duchess,” Suguru beckons without breaking focus on Ezra. 

“We will be begin your sessions in three days. Meet me around 8:00 AM in our garden. Yes?”

Our garden.

You are a dirty woman. 

The way your core aches at his meaningless, frivolous, harmless words. 

“Y-yes. I will be there.” A half-baked attempt at maintaining neutrality. 

Your agreement earns you Suguru’s left dimple again. You toss your gaze elsewhere before your knees commit treason. 

“Duke, is there an activity you enjoy?” Suguru probes Ezra. 

“Sailing.”

“Sailing…?” Suguru lifts an incredulous brow. Blatantly amused by his automatic response. 

Granted, you don’t know your future husband that well, but he’s never made mention of any maritime activities.

Meanwhile everyone in this country, two countries over, possibly your home country knows that water belongs to the Chaplain. The element bends to his will. 

“Are you certain about that, Duke Ahriman?”

“Yes, Father. We have quite the fleet. I think you would be impressed.” 

“Understood. You and I will set sail before Sunrise the day after tomorrow.” 

The men exchange pleasantries as they do. Ezra intertwines his loving fingers into your reluctant ones. He ushers the long night to a welcome end.

Five steps into your path home, a blistering heat snakes up your spine. Fanning your shoulders like high noon during summer solstice. 

You don’t have to do it. 

You know the source, already. 

But you do it anyway. 

Over your left shoulder, you find the Naval Prince strolling along the unstable rocky ledge with as much grace as he does flat terrain. Eyeing the tide. Searching for the perfect entry home. 

Suguru’s trident reflects stark against the moonlight. Upper body completely shed of clothing, lower body with a long, black compression garment. Heavy locks now woven in the same singular braid you met him with. Dark overhead skies somehow illuminating the ridges and shadows of his sculpted arms, and back…and chest. 

A glimpse of heaven. 

…is staring right back at you. 

Possessing you.

“Enjoy your swim!” 

The words string together without your consent. Ezra lands his attention on you, startled by the sudden crack in silence. 

And the demigod shakes his head.  One part disbelief, two parts fond. 

“Enjoy your dreams!” Suguru calls back before turning his trident to you. His night has just begun.

You walk away with your betrothed, cloaked in soiled satin and guilt. 

Were you in the wrong? Maybe so.

But your heart didn’t choose Ezra. Not yet. You aren’t sure if your heart has even chosen you. 

Arella’s gentle wave from the patio welcomes you home. Sleep suddenly descending on your heavy lids. 

At least you’re safe, here in your mind’s haven.

For now. 

     · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · 

“Fuck.” 

A tormented hand swipes the bead of moisture tickling a path down Suguru’s temple. 

0345

Obscenities seem to spill from his lips a little too easily these days. And his usual coping mechanisms are falling a little too short. 

The chaplain drags the hem of his sleepwear down to his thighs. 

Each bone, muscle and tendon is utterly spent after tonight’s swim. Every part of his body except the thick rod that springs free from its cage. 

Glistening with beads of lust. Taunting him. Making a mockery of his code of conduct. 

Thou Shall Not Covet Thy Neighbor’s Wife.

“Really?” Suguru scoffs and screws his eyes shut. His nails dig into the abused sheets to keep from gripping his cock and tugging himself numb. 

How convenient. 

The Holy Book of Answers and all of its rules makes no mention of how to survive the likes of you. 

How does one circumvent murky waters when Thy Neighbor’s Wife is Aphrodite’s reincarnate? 

Suguru’s heavy, oversized length pulsates. Its blushing head lays flush with his abdomen, a few inches past his belly button. Leaking pearly arousal onto his damp skin. Still not fully air-dried from the second icy bath since returning to his quarters. 

‘I’ll do whatever you ask of me.’

You dangled your submission in front of him. 

Him, a red-blooded man. 

A ravenous, touch starved, cunt-drunk beast of man. And you sat there. With your dizzying silhouette. And puffy lips. And pert nipples, pebbling from his gaze alone.  

Did you think he couldn’t see? 

How you pressed your mouth-watering thighs together? With wide, gorgeous eyes. Desperately trying to deny yourself the indulgence. 

What if he asked you to spread your legs then and there, pretty girl? 

What if he asked you to watch his fingers pet that weeping little cunt of yours? Watch how much honey he could coax out of your needy opening. 

Because you were. 

So fucking needy.

Suguru could see it from a mile away much less sitting next to you. Tensed legs. Short gasps. Studying his features when you thought his attention lapsed. 

‘Can you teach me how to love a man?’

“Oh, sweet girl,” Suguru rolls over to settle a plush pillow between his thighs. The cool, soft cotton rubs blinding friction against his aching length. 

This is wrong. 

Immoral. 

He’s a filthy, disgusting, pervert.

Suguru lurches his hips forward in a deep thrust against the cushion. A shattered groan pushes past his clenched jaw. 

It’s a disgrace, the way saliva pooled in his mouth and cum drooled from his cock when you unveiled your purity. 

Suguru’s hips rut faster. Brutalizing the pillow. Animalistic sounds bubble out of him. 

“Fuck…fuck no..don’t..” Pathetic pleas contradict the pace he humps the fabric. Chasing the whirlpool of lust in his groin. 

Demons in hell couldn’t concoct the vile things his mind is showing him. The intricate ways he wants to violate you.

A moral stain for the church 

The priest tilts up on his knees. Fucking the pillow in earnest. Picturing its your precious, dewy center that he’s defiling. 

He could teach you, gorgeous. 

He could shape your untouched core to fit his cock like a sleeve. Perfectly molded to his veins. Slotting into your warm, wet, noble sheath with ease. 

He would have you sit on his lap for your first lesson. 

His swollen length buried inside you to the hilt. He wouldn’t thrust, not yet. Your body would just clench and squeeze and leak around his intrusion. Suguru wouldn’t retreat out of your cunt until you were begging him to. Teary eyed and drooling from every single opening. 

He could teach you. Break you. Turn you into a pretty little cockdumb puppet at his touch.

“God..nngh fuck.” Opaque fog fills his head and lungs. 

Sordid moans echo against the walls. Reflecting his sinful behavior, but Suguru is too intoxicated to care. He curls around his swollen cockhead. Feverishly jerking his abused sex. Grinding so pitifully into his hand. 

Suguru drops his head. Mumbling your name in full before spewing himself empty into his grasp, the sheets, his pillow. 

Shame warmer than the mess of cum he’s currently laying descends. Filling the fuzzy corners of his brain. 

Is he really so weak?

“Be stronger than this.” The priest hisses angrily.

Unable to lay in filth for another second, Suguru rockets out of bed. Pulling his sheets, folding his sins away. To be cleansed in the next load of laundry.

A third, icy shower serves the same purpose for him a few minutes later. Glacial droplets soak the length of his mane, again. His manhood hangs away from his body, bucking every couple moments. Threatening to steal his virtue for a second time. 

He’ll be a better man when the sun rises. 

A tired sigh escapes his lips. At least Suguru is safe, here in his mind’s haven. 

For now.  

E/N: Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Chaplain, you really have to get a handle on those pesky hands of yours. 🤭

Taglist: @blkkizzat @hayakawalove @rotteneyess

[bonniepop]

title: of rumors & wrong assumptions parts: 1 / 2 / 3 character: iwaizumi hajime words: 1,800+ warnings: more violence towards oikawa's person. notes: i totally forgot to fill this up lmao

—

the following days at school were hell.

well, not really. but they felt like it.

“he keeps glaring at me,” you whimper, sitting across oikawa, trying to hide yourself by curling inward and having him shield you.

you were both hunched over your shared library desk, completing your partner lab report on your iodine clock experiment, two tables away from iwaizumi’s as his class settled on the other side of the library. oikawa had mentioned that they were working on their research for english.

truth be told, iwaizumi had been glaring at you since last week whenever you were with your lab partner in any capacity. whether you returned a greeting, asked a question, passed by him in the hallway, or simply just as looked in oikawa’s direction, iwaizumi’s glare was soon to follow. it was hard to miss the way his eyeballs practically singed the back of your skull in their endeavor.

“who?” oikawa looks over his shoulder. “oh, he’s not glaring. that’s just his normal face.” he wiggles his fingers at his best friend, who is clearly unamused. 

"you mean looking like he wants to kill me is normal?"

oikawa turns back to you. "i think the crease in between his eyebrows is genetic; his dad has it, too. but it looks good on him, doesn't it?"

gay, the voice in your head pipes up. instead of responding, iwaizumi simply narrows his eyes at oikawa for a second before looking back down at his own notes and proceeding with his work.

“so when he looks like he wants to kill me, that’s normal?” you ask, picking up the experiment manual and dragging it closer.

“yeah, but don’t take it personally.” oikawa smiles. “he looks at me that way all the time!” he returns to your work, peering over the experiment manual and copying the text unto a sheet of paper.

“you have really nice handwriting,” you comment after a few beats of silence, watching him neatly loop and cross and curve his characters.

“thanks,” he says with a smile. “when i was in middle school, my mom made it a point to train me and my sister in penmanship.”

“sounds like torture.”

“helps with volleyball,” he shrugs. “steady hands and all that.”

“you sound like you're making this up.”

"why on earth would i do that?" the volleyball player rolls his eyes. "anyway, real or no, it’s better than that thing you call handwriting,” he disparages, shooting your notes a pointed look. "what's worse than chicken scratch?"

“hey!” you snap, bundling your notes in your arms. “it is not that bad, and also, mind your own business. i make decent grades with this chicken scratch, you know!”

“i’m surprised our teachers can even read that.”

“oh, fuck off,” you say, giving him the finger. 

he laughs and changes the subject. “anyway, did you hear?” he leans in closer, raising an eyebrow. “people think we’re dating.”

you flush, but you can’t help the look of disgust that mars your features. “i know. it’s so gross.”

the teasing expression on his face falls and he straightens. “hey!” he cries, and some students around you turn their heads to look. “i’ll have you know that i am prime real estate!”

“shut up,” you hiss, yanking him down to divert attention. “first of all, you're not my type. second of all, you play volleyball, not baseball. baseball is clearly superior!"

"says you! i'd rather shine in a sport thanks to my sheer physical prowess, not because i'm good at hitting balls with sticks."

you shake your head. "you know, girls don’t like it when the guy’s ego is as big as the moon.”

“i’m just being honest,” he defends. “volleyball is the superior sport."

"i read somewhere that volleyball is just an extreme version of don't let the balloon touch the floor."

"then baseball is just hitting a piñata that's a moving target.”

“a more impressive set of conditions.”

“we're going nowhere," oikawa declares, waving the conversation away. what is your type, then?”

“not you,” you answer with a straight face.

“be serious!” he leans in conspiratorially. “i bet i know who your type is.”

you roll your eyes. “sure you do.”

he smirks. “it’s iwa-chan, isn’t it?”

your heart thunders in your chest and your belly flip flips around. “maybe,” you say, trying to play it cool. “or hanamaki. or matsukawa. anyone but you, really.”

he gapes then huffs, offended. he folds his arms over his chest. “you’re just saying that to get a rise out of me, and i won't fall for it.”

“i like guys who at least pretend to be humble about being good-looking.”

that makes him smirk. “so you think i’m good-looking?” he says a little louder, and you take your manual and smack his arm when you notice the students around you obviously trying to eavesdrop. “ow!”

“shut the fuck up,” you hiss.

oikawa scoffs as he rubs his arm, and you can feel the heat of iwaizumi’s familiar glare on the side of your head 

you chew on your bottom lip. “how’d you know, by the way?” 

“know what? that iwa-chan was your type?”

“no,” you insist, intent on changing the subject, because the embarrassment that you might’ve been obvious would’ve killed you. “that people think we’re—eugh—dating.”

he frowns. “hey. i’m not that bad a boyfriend.”

“didn’t your last girlfriend dump you?”

“i don't see why that's relevant,” he says stiffly, ignoring your jibe. “anyway, some of the lower year girls asked me if it was true,” he says, uncrossing his arms and pondering.

“oh my god, it spread.” you run a hand over your face. “what did you tell them?”

“i didn’t get a chance to answer. iwa-chan hit me in the head with a volleyball before i could.”

“what?” you nearly slam your hands on the table. “so people actually think we’re dating? why didn’t you answer?!”

“because they were bothering us during practice,” iwaizumi answers, suddenly standing next to your table, and you nearly launch yourself out of your seat in shock.

“iwa-chan!” oikawa greets, motioning for him to sit. the chair scrapes against the floor as the vice captain of the volleyball team takes a seat next to you, of all places. “have you met my lab partner?”

you’re too terrified and nervous to speak, but iwaizumi answers for you. “yeah," he grunts in agreement, then grunts out your name. “you’re a friend of tomo’s.”

you nod, words delayed. “yep. i’m a friend of tomo’s.”

“oooh, common friends,” oikawa teases, then jerks and smacks his knee beneath the table. people swivel their heads and chortle when they find the volleyball captain rubbing his leg beneath the desk, face scrunched up in pain. “ow! don’t hit me!”

“don’t be stupid,” iwaizumi grunts. he props his research materials on the table opens his notebook, silently getting to work.

you tap oikawa’s wrist with the pen in your hand as soon as his tears subside. “hey, keep writing!”

“would it kill you to say ‘please’?” he grumbles, pulling the report close and continuing. you work in relative silence, dictating notes for him to include in the report and answering any questions about values and measurements.

you completely forget that iwaizumi's even there, until he sighs and puts down his pen. he cracks his neck and stretches.

“you okay, iwa-chan?” oikawa asks.

“yeah,” he responds, voice low and raspy and it sounds so good that you bite back a whimper. “english is hard.”

you purse your lips in thought. would it be presumptuous of you to help? but maybe you could be useful, and if he really needed help… it might also make him like you more, and lessen all the glaring whenever you were within five feet of his best friend…

“um, can i see?” you decide to ask, and with a nod he slides his notes over to you. “what’s this?”

“translation,” iwaizumi responds gruffly. “can’t figure out what this word means in this sentence. doesn’t it mean the direction, as in 'turn left'?”

after a few scans, you nod, finally understanding. “ah, yes, but here,, ‘left’ is the past tense of ‘leave.’ like, when someone forgets something or leaves something behind.” with your pen, you point out words. "see here? 'she left her phone.'"

iwaizumi looks sort of scandalized. “what?”

“yeah, here, look—”

unbeknownst to you, oikawa’s watching as you explain it, taking in the way his friend leans forward and the extra attention he’s devoting to you as you speak. 

iwaizumi shakes his head. “so ‘left’ means the direction," he motions with his hand, "but also the past tense of 'leave'?” he flips back on his notes. "past tense, past tense... ah, verbs that have already happened?"

“yeah,” you explain. “most english words have their past tenses end in 'd', but irregular verbs—like this one here—they don't follow that rule.”

the captain lights up. “you speak english? you’re not in the english class.”

“um, yeah.” you blush, pulling back and straightening. “my, uh, my grandparents lived in america for a time, so i kinda learned from them.”

a disturbing smile spreads across oikawa's face. “fascinating," he says, sounding not unlike a snake with a plan. "maybe you can help iwa-chan here,” he says with that weird, slimy smile, reaching across the table to pat his friend’s arm. “he’s studying to take a the college entrance exams in the states! he’s not that smart at english, so you should help him!”

said friend was looking at the hand with disgust, which made your lip twitch. “don’t touch me,” he spits.

“aww, iwa, it’s okay. she knows you can be nice to me! you don’t have to hide your true self.” oikawa suddenly jumps away in fear when the wing spiker flexes for a punch, and you hide your snort behind your hands. 

oikawa whimpers, pathetically collecting the papers in front of him. “you two are mean! you deserve each other.”

iwaizumi flushes and glares. “hey. don’t be like that.” he turns to you. “sorry, he’s really inconsiderate about people’s feelings.”

you blink in surprise and raise your hands up in surrender. “no, it’s okay! no, ah, no feelings hurt here. he’s been annoying me all afternoon, so. yeah.” 

confusion makes itself known on iwaizumi's face. “annoying you? aren’t you… you know... um—”

your belly twists unpleasantly, and you force a laugh to hide your embarrassment. “oh, the, uh. the rumor.” you shake your head. “no, we’re not… that.”

when the laugh isn’t returned, you blush and clear your throat, looking down at your chicken scratch in embarrassment.

"oh. but i thought..." he trails off, and you shake your head without looking at him.

a few seconds later, he clears his throat to cut the awkward silence. "okawa, may i speak to you for a moment?” iwaizumi goes, already getting up.

oikawa's tongue is poking out the corner of his mouth as he concentrates on his notes. “wait, i'll just finish—”

“now,” iwaizumi bites out, grabbing his captain by the collar. he looks at you and bows. “give us one second.”

your lab partner is dragged away, and you can hear the mumbles of the students around you. you slump over in your seat. not again.

[beomiracles]

「 WATCH MY SIX 」 PART ONE

DREAM RECALL if asked the question — you would describe Hueningkai as beautiful. Not necessarily sexy or even handsome, simply; beautiful. You think it was his beauty that attracted you to him from the start. The day he introduced himself, the day it all began. 

pairings stalker!hueningkai x afab!reader warnings stalking, harassment, mentions of severe injury, brief description of self inflicted injury, non-con photography (these warnings apply for part one)

#serene adds ✎... this is my first attempt at writing something stalker-ish but I hope it's appreciated still! any feedback is immensely appreciated :3

The first thing you noticed about Hueningkai was how tall he was, easily towering over you in an almost intimidating manner — The second thing that caught your eye was his smile, he had an almost boyish-grin that made his eyes crinkle up in the most endearing way. Third, was the small mole on his left cheek, entrancing you as it moved when he spoke, smiled, and laughed. 

If asked the question — you would describe Hueningkai as beautiful. Not necessarily sexy or even handsome, simply; beautiful. You think it was his beauty that attracted you to him from the start. The day he introduced himself, the day it all began. 

It was your first day of college.

“Hi, I’m Hueningkai”, he introduces himself. You glanced between his friendly face and outstretched hand. You shake it, “hi, y/n”, you give a small smile which he returns with one of his own and you find your gaze lingering on his rosy lips. “First day?” he asks as he eyes your awkward stance. You nod, “that obvious?” Kai chuckles before shaking his head, “your empty bag”, he then comments and you glance down toward your very much vacant book bag. “Oh” you sheepishly chuckle and he grins, that endearing grin that you would grow to love. 

You had been eager to make friends and Hueningkai had seemed like the perfect first candidate. You find out that he’s in his third year, majoring in computer science and you listen eagerly as he shows you around campus. Kai was charismatic, and a great tour guide, making everything seem both fun and intriguing. 

“What are your plans then?” he wonders as you walk down the large hallways. “Well…” you begin as you keep your eyes on the way your feet move forward, “I’m hoping to get my degree in business.” Kai hums next to you, “business, you wanna start your own?” You shrug, “perhaps…” In truth you wished to open a small business of your own, but whenever you had shared your dream of a small cafe you had been greatly humbled, thus you decided to keep such ambitions to yourself — at least for now. 

Kai glances in your direction as the two of you continue in silence. You found that he stared at you a lot, you didn’t mind, in fact you felt almost flattered that such a beautiful man had even introduced himself, let alone offered to show you around. Upon your arrival at the student council’s office, Kai leaves your side, excusing himself by saying that he had class to attend. You thanked him for his kindness and he flashed you that smile of his  once more. 

Your first day progressed without much difficulty and you found yourself making a lot more friends than anticipated. As the last bell rang, you had formed a small group of four, and for the first time in a while; you felt hopeful for the future. Having exchanged numbers and settling on a day to all meet up outside of school, you bid farewell to your new friends as you make your way toward the subway. 

You had barely made it off campus when a familiar voice called out for you. It’s with an excited smile that you turn around to face Hueningkai as he catches up with you. “First day treating you well?” he asks and you nod, eager to begin telling him about your day as the two of you walk down the busy streets.  

You tell him about your new professors and show him your schedule. He listens with great interest as he comments on your unfairly good timetable. “Just wait until your third year”, he huffs and you giggle. Kai took most of his classes in a separate building to yours, making it difficult for you to meet up during the day, you couldn’t hide the disappointment flashing across your features at the thought. 

“I’ve made quite a few friends as well” you add as you swing your book bag in front of you cheerily. Your mind racing with scenarios in which you would introduce him to your small group. At first Kai doesn’t answer you, his silence makes you glance in his direction, the once radiant expression on his face had morphed into a gloomy one, his lips pressed into a thin line. You frown, did something happen? You could’ve sworn that he was grinning just mere seconds ago. 

“That’s nice”, he finally says in a monotone voice and you awkwardly nod. The warm summer air suddenly felt as cold as a December night. The two of you walk in silence for a few minutes, your mind plagued with ways to break it. Finally the subway comes into vision and you feel relief flooding your system. You turn to him with a small smile, “well I better…”

“Can I have your number?” 

His question shakes you off path as you blink up at him. Your number? Had the beautiful man asked you the very same question this morning your answer would have been definite. But the previous stale silence surrounding you had been more than uncomfortable, so you hesitate. Soon he grins as he tilts his head to the side, something about that small smile, makes your knees buckle and you caved. 

He saves his number on your device before handing it back to you, “same time tomorrow then, sunshine?” He gives you a small wave before leaving you by the bustling subway, you don’t even have the time to form a reply before he’s gone, vanished. 

That night you went to bed with a tingling sensation in your chest. 

Kai kept meeting you before school every morning, he walked you to class and met you after to walk you to the subway. Everyday was the same, and you quickly found yourself adapting to your new routine. Kai was easy to talk to and he listened happily to whatever topic you found yourself stumbling across. All but one. You had wished to introduce him to your friends but everytime you brought the idea forward, he would find an excuse to avoid it. 

Even whilst dropping you off at class, he would quickly excuse himself before your friends had the chance to approach. After school he would wait by the gates, a safe distance from your small group. You wondered why he was so adamant about not meeting them. 

And so as you walk to class that morning, you will yourself to bring the subject up. Clearing your throat awkwardly, you immediately garner his attention as he glances toward you, “I was thinking…maybe…you would like to join us on friday, we’re going bowling”, you ask hopefully as you keep your gaze on the floor. He walks silently beside you, an impassive expression painted across his face, seemingly unreadable. “Who’s ‘us’?” he then asks and you give a small shrug of your shoulders. “Me, Sun hee, Nari and probably Eun too”, as you list the small party the expression on Kai’s face twitches slightly. “I might be busy friday”, he then states and you let out a quiet oh. 

You thought that it was probably just an excuse to not go, yet you let it be, not wanting to pry. You liked Kai a lot, and you didn’t want to ruin things by pushing him too far. Though your friends kept asking about him, it was of course not surprising as you talked about him almost every day. You just couldn’t understand why he didn’t like them. 

That Friday you went out just like you had planned. Despite the absence of Kai you managed to have a great time. So much that you almost forgot how upset the whole situation had made you. 

“Another strike?” Eun yells as your ball hits all its targets once more. Your name on the scoreboard moves up to the top, surpassing Eun’s with ease. You give him a teasing grin as you take your seat next to Nari. After flipping you off, Eun turns to help Sun hee with her turn. 

“How long until they start dating you reckon?” Nari mutters beside you as she takes a sip of her drink. “I’d give it another two weeks”, you mumble as you watch the way Eun places his hand on Sun hee’s waist to help her get into position. “Maybe one and a half”, you then say and Nari smirks, “wanna bet?” Out of everyone you and Nari had become the closest, it happened naturally as the two of you took almost the same classes and therefore spent the majority of your days in each other’s presence. There was also a certain force that pulled you toward Nari, you admired her honesty and confident character; part of you thought that it was perhaps what you lacked. 

“Speaking of which”, she then drawls as she sets her drink down, “where’s your date?” Her words instantly bring color to your face and you shake your head, “he couldn’t make it, and he was not my date” you state to which Nari grins, “sure he wasn’t.” 

She’s silent for a moment before adding, “he’s busy often.” Biting your bottom lip, you nod, “he’s got a lot of school work”, you lie, you hate lying. Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to tell her that he probably didn’t want to meet your friends, that you had almost pleaded for him to join you at least once. “Computer science is no joke”, Nari agrees as she gazes ahead. You were sure she could see right through you, Nari was smart.  

You swallow. “Maybe next time? I’ll ask him”, you mumble and Nari nods, “you better, I want to see the guy who takes up all your attention, barely leaving any for me”, she teases as she gives your shoulder a playful push and you smile as you sip on your own drink. 

That night you got your first of what would become many messages. 

Having just got out of the shower, a towel wrapped securely around your body, you’re in the midst of drying your hair when your phone chimes with a notification. Thinking it was probably just Nari asking if you got home alright, you brush it off — though a small part of you thought, hoped, that it might’ve been Kai. 

Ever since you had brought up the question of meeting your friends he had been acting…distant. And you meant it quite literally. Whenever he walked you to class or the subway his gaze seemed far away, his thoughts seemingly occupied as he hummed and nodded along to whatever subject you rambled on about. Could it be that he had come to his senses at last? 

Finally your curiosity got the better of you as you tossed the towel used to dry your hair on your bed and walked over to your drawer, which your phone rested on top of. Upon tapping the screen you’re greeted by a single message, and it’s from…

An unknown number? 

That’s strange, sellers never left messages, and what other reason would an unknown number have for contacting you? Though the uncanny numbers on the screen were far from the most terrifying thing. It was the message itself, reading out one short sentence. 

“You looked good tonight.” 

It was strange, you had the numbers of everyone already. Who was this person? Because it certainly wasn’t any of your friends, more importantly; how did they get your number? Sun hee had admittedly become slightly drunk, but not drunk enough to give out your number to a stranger. 

“Who is this?” Your fingers hesitate over the send button as you contemplate your decision. In the end your curiosity won you over once more. You send it. 

It is immediately read. 

Your eyes widen as the three familiar dots pop up on the bright screen, indicating that the person was typing. You watch the dots move up and down for at least a minute before they vanish completely. Whatever they were typing out, they had deleted again. 

You waited that whole night for a reply, but it never came. All that was left was the small text:

Read 12:38am. 

That following week you receive yet another message. Chatter fills the large cafeteria as students crowd the many tables. Your own table is no different as your friends engage in different subjects. You found it hard to share their enthusiasm as your mind kept wandering back to the previous weekend. Kai hadn’t texted you once, and neither had he walked you to class today. Had you done something wrong? 

“Hey! Sleepyhead!”, Eun calls out as he snaps his fingers in front of your eyes, startling you. “Almost thought we lost you there”, he chuckles and you give a half-assed smile back. “What do you think about dinner at Nari’s on friday?” he asks and you nod, “sure…Friday's good.” You really didn’t feel like going. 

Eun claps his hands excitedly, “great! then it’s decided!” Immediately he drifts onto a new topic and you automatically zone out. Though a light tap to your shoulder shifts your attention to your right, “ask you friend if he can make it”, Nari whispers as she wiggles her eyebrows in a suggestive manner. 

You bite your lip as you consider her words. Truthfully, you didn’t want to invite Kai once more only to be turned down by him. Perhaps he was starting to find your persistence annoying — maybe it had been his reason for not texting you all weekend. Despite your uncertainty you give Nari a small nod and she grins. 

The familiar buzzing of your phone has you instinctively reaching for it. The unfamiliar set of numbers flashing on your screen however, causes your stomach to drop through the floor. It was the number from last week, once again the sender had only left one message, and no signature. 

“He’s quite annoying isn’t he?” 

You frown, were they referring to Eun? You glance around the crowded cafeteria, but it was seemingly impossible to make out if anyone was watching your table. How odd. The message hadn’t been very precise, it didn’t have to imply that whoever sent it was currently in the room with you; yet you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand as a shiver ran down your spine. 

These texts would continue to make an appearance throughout the following weeks. Ranging in variety; sometimes they were long, sometimes short, sometimes they targeted people you knew, sometimes they were questions.

“What did you have for breakfast today?” 

“You look pretty today.” 

“Does she ever shut up?” 

Sometimes they were outright creepy. 

“I’ve been thinking about you all day. I always do, but today was even harder for me. I miss you a lot, I wish I could see you more often. Don’t you want to see me too?” 

It had crossed your mind many times to block the number. Yet you always found yourself hesitating — was it curiosity or just stupidity? You weren’t sure. But the mystery behind the sender intrigued you greatly and you spent the vast majority of your free time wondering who it could be. Briefly you had considered Eun, but he liked Sun hee, and honestly didn’t strike you as the type to harass someone like that. Then there was the guy from your English class, you couldn’t quite remember his name but he often if not always insisted on sitting next to you; and when he didn’t, you could feel his burning gaze on you. But how would he have gotten your number? You hadn’t given it out to anyone except your friends and Kai.  

It had to be someone from your school, at least so you thought; who else would be able to study your whereabouts so closely. Besides, the sender never indicated knowing anything about your life outside. But as time passed you grew both paranoid and uncertain of your existing guesses. 

Your final straw drew to a line on the 19th of September, by now the messages had been terrorizing you for almost four weeks. But it wasn’t until now that they suddenly morphed from a mere pest to something utterly terrifying.   

It was late at night when the message was received. Curled up on your couch, your eyes mindlessly glaze over the moving screen of your Tv, the movie doing little to catch your interest. Your phone buzzes on the cushion next to you, without as much as a thought you pick it up only for it to almost immediately slip out of your hand. 

“The Conjuring? I didn’t take you for a horror enthusiast.” 

Your eyes flicker from your phone to your Tv screen, undoubtedly playing that very movie. What the fuck. But that would mean…your neck snaps in the direction of your window, nothing. Still it did little to ease the worry in your chest as you quickly got up to close all curtains and rattle your door once more.

You thoroughly checked every inch of your flat, in closets, behind old moving boxes, you even went as far as checking under your bed. The place was empty, yet you felt watched.  That’s when you decided to block the unknown number. And this time, you didn't hesitate. 

Two days passed without much noise and soon you found yourself falling back into your old routines, it was comforting — spending time with your friends and most importantly, with Kai. He had explained his absence with being out of town to visit his sick grandma, it had been an emergency but he kept on apologizing for not reaching out and promising to make it up with lunch. You felt stupid for even doubting him in the first place as you reassured him that it was all forgotten. 

“You got any plans this weekend?” he asks as you make your way to class together. “I well…I’m sort of meeting my friends to go see a movie on Saturday…” you mumble as you reach the door to your first class. Kai’s jaw clenches as he lets out a small sigh. Inside the classroom your eyes immediately find your small group of friends, Nari notices you first and waves you over as she mouths the words “is that him?”, you give her a small nod and she smirks. 

“You should come”, you then say as you turn to glance up at him. Kai’s gaze shifts from your frame to the table your friends currently occupy. His expression flashes with annoyance before his attention returns to you. “How about Sunday?” he asks and you blink in confusion. “I…I’m free Sunday, but…” — “good, I’ll see you after class.” Without another word he turns and walks off, leaving you stunned as you shift awkwardly in the doorway. 

As you take your seat amongst your friends, Nari quickly turns to you. “Well?” She tilts her head to the side as she looks at you expectantly. You shrug her off as you bring out your notebook and a few pencils, “well what?” She lets out an exasperated groan, leaning closer, “I mean, what was all that about?” You shake your head, “nothing..” It was obvious that Nari didn’t believe you, yet you were thankful that she chose not to pry further. 

Class began and the day rolled on in a most uneventful manner, that was until your last period of the day. Your professor had been rambling for the past forty minutes without as much as a break and you felt your eyelids grow heavy. Next to you, Nari had doodled all over her previous notes, now she only tapped her pen against the paper in a monotone manner. 

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, usually you would ignore it during class, but today was an exceptionally boring one. You bring the device out as your tired eyes squint down toward the screen. It’s another unknown number, you frown, you thought you blocked the last one. Your heart immediately picks up its pace as you realize that the sender had sent not one but  two messages this time. 

With trembling hands you unlock your phone as you tap on the message. It’s a…photo. You turn the brightness up as you bring your phone closer to your face, it’s a girl, she looks to be cooking something, you can’t clearly make it out, the blinds covering the window makes for a narrow view. Upon further inspection you realize that it’s…it’s you. Your heart sinks as your eyes follow the outline of your relaxed frame, blissfully unaware of the pair of eyes bestowed upon you. 

The second message only read out a single word: 

“Pretty.” 

The sound of your heart's rapid beating rings in your ears as your eyes remain glued to the screen. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the… “What’s that?” Nari wonders as she peeks over at your screen, curious about what’s got your attention. She frowns as she takes the phone from you, bringing it just as close to her face as you had. “What the fuck, is that you?” She exclaims, earning a few glances from the students around you. 

You don’t answer her as you try and will your hands to lay still against the desk. Tears threaten at the corners of your eyes as you try and comprehend the situation before you. “Babes what the fuck”, Nari mumbles and you give her a pleading glance, “please let’s leave.” 

You find a secluded spot outside, and as Nari goes through the previous messages sent by the unknown number, you lean against the wall in an attempt to calm yourself. “This is fucking insane”, she mutters as she scrolls through the 50+ messages in your inbox. “Are they talking about me?” she frowns as she shows you the screen. 

“Stuck up bitch. Only cares about herself. Why bother hanging out with her?” 

You shake your head as the first tears fall, “I don’t know…” you sniffle and your friend’s expression goes from a glaring one to a worried one. “Fuck, babes this is serious, we need to contact the police.” Shaking your head once more you sob, “what can they do? I have no clue who it could be”. 

“They know where you live for god's sake!” Nari exclaims as she runs a hand through her dark hair frustratedly. “You think I don’t get that? That I don’t get how bad this is?” you cry as you slide down against the stone wall. Nari is by your side in seconds as she wraps her arms around you in a warm embrace. “Alright, it’s okay, we’ll figure something out, I’ll stay with you, or you can stay with me, I won’t have you be alone okay?” You meekly nod as you hug her tighter, grateful for your friend. 

You text Kai to let him know that he won’t be needing to wait for you that day, that you will spend some time with Nari. Her apartment is bigger than yours, holding not one but two bedrooms. She makes your bed for you, lets you borrow her clothes and cooks dinner for the two of you. Telling you that it’s nothing when you try over and over again to help her or in any way thank her. “You would do the same for me”, she says as she hands you a bottle of soju and takes a seat next to you on the couch. 

“So, what do you reckon our next step is?” she ponders and you take a sip of your drink. “You don’t think they’ll stop, do you?” Your voice is far from hopeful as you look at her with a tormented expression. Nari shakes her head as a small pout forms on her lips, “how long has it been going on for?” 

“A month”, your voice is barely above a whisper yet your words ring out through the silent apartment. It felt almost unreal to think that the same person had pestered your life for a whole of four weeks, not giving up despite your clear disregard of their advances. How much longer would you have to endure this? And what if something dangerous happened? 

“You need to go to the police, love, what if they do something to you?” Nari mumbles, having seemingly read your thoughts as she studies your bleak expression. You knew that she was right, “alright, I will”. 

That night you lay in the guest bedroom of Nari’s flat, staring up at the dark ceiling as the minutes ticked by. No matter how much you tossed and turned you never seemed to find comfort enough to sleep. And like clockwork, your phone flashed with yet a notification, flooding the dark room in an eerie light.  

You try your best to ignore it as you flip over on your stomach, burying your face into the pillow. But as the screen turns black it is but a mere three seconds before your phone buzzes with yet another notification, followed by a third, a fourth, a fifth… 

Frowning, you sit up as you grab the small device in your hands. What the fuck, you mumble as 9+ unread messages from that same unknown number fills your screen. Hesitantly, you open them. 

“Why would you tell her about me? About us?” 

“Dirty bitch has nothing to do with it.” 

“Is that why you’re not at home? You’re with her aren’t you, that whore.” 

“You shouldn’t have done that, why did you?” 

“Are you fucking stupid?” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“You’re not stupid.” 

“She is. Good for nothing useless fucking slut.” 

“Come home again.”

“I miss you.” 

As you stare at the screen in pure disbelief, you scoff. It was one thing to harass you, but going after your friends, that was where you drew the line. In your worked up state your fingers work quickly as they type out a reply: 

“Fuck off.” 

With that you turn your phone off completely before shoving it under your bed to finally get some sleep. 

The next day you didn’t leave for college, you told yourself that you weren’t paranoid but something held you back from leaving, that thing being Nari. “They got their eyes on you in school too!” she says as she gets ready to leave, “this is the only place where you’re safe.” Inclined to disagree, because in truth you hadn’t felt safe for the past month, yet you listened to your new roommate and did as she told. 

The day moved slowly as you aimlessly wandered around Nari’s flat. You cleaned, prepared dinner and rewatched your favorite Disney movies. But as you glance at the clock it hasn’t even hit four yet. You’re in the midst of giving yourself a manicure when your phone buzzes. It was probably just Sun hee or Nari and you wait for your nail polish to dry fully before getting up to check your mobile device. 

Your stomach drops as you recognize the number on the screen, yet another picture had been sent. But this time it wasn’t you, it was Nari. Sitting in class, leaned over her desk as she wrote in her notebook, dark hair falling over her face but you knew that it was her. A few seconds later you received a second picture. It still captures your friend, though this time she’s outside, most likely heading home. Why was she alone? She usually went with Sun hee so why weren’t she with her right now? 

“Leave her alone.” Your message doesn’t go through, you frown. You send five more, none are delivered and panic slowly sets in. You frantically search for Nari in your contacts, the phone rings, once, twice, three times, but no reply. Fuck, pick up, pick up, you mumble as you press the call button once more, this time you’re sent straight to voicemail. 

The unknown number sends yet another picture, this time it’s taken from behind her, and close, too close. After that the pictures roll in like rainfall, photo after photo, all growing in intensity as Nari becomes aware of the danger about to close in on her. 

You refuse to look through all of them, skipping your way to the last one. It’s still Nari, except she looks horrible. Blood trailing from her forehead down the sides of her face as her body unconsciously lay on the ground. You let out a horrified cry as your phone slips from your hands, colliding against the wood floor with a loud thud. 

This was all your fault. 

You do not remember for how long you laid on the floor of Nari’s apartment, your loud cries filling the empty flat as your vision grew hazy. Arms burning from the way your nails dug into them, drawing blood that trickled all over your hands. 

You don’t know how he got inside or when he did, but you remembered his large arms wrapping around your shaking body as Kai pulled you to his chest. You remember his soothing words as he pried your bloody hands from your arms, you remember feeling safe in his embrace. 

As your cries turned to sobs and eventually to small sniffles, you clung to him, afraid of letting go, afraid of losing the only thing that still kept you sane. How lucky you were to have Kai. His hold on you doesn’t falter for even a second as he wipes your tear stained cheeks. You don’t have to tell him what happened because he knows, you’re relieved that he knows because you don’t think you could stomach uttering those words out loud. 

It doesn’t change the fact that it was all your fault. If you had done something sooner, if you had told the police like Nari said, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. You should never have told her, you should never have involved her, it was just like they had said. 

With a final sniffle you lift your gaze to meet Kai’s warm one, in that moment you felt as if you could trust him with anything. “I…” your voice is shaky and meek, your words getting stuck in your throat. He hugs you closer as he presses a kiss to your forehead, had it not been for your current state you probably would have blushed. “It’s going to be okay, sunshine”, he whispers against your skin and you shake your head. It wasn’t. 

“Kai, I…I think I’m being stalked.” 

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[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

Shooting a Movie part 4

Note: another thanks to @foxyanon for encouraging me while writing! & thanks to @legitalicat for coming up with a little nickname for a certain character ;)

reblogs & comments are very much appreciated, and make sure to read the previous chapters: part 1 - part 2 - part 3.

Warnings: 18+!! smut and a bit of angst.

pairing: Modern!Sihtric x you (f) / Modern!Masema x you (f)

summary: you continued to work with Sihtric, as well as with Masema.

wordcount: 5,4k

Masterlist

Your trip with Sihtric from Durham to London had been pleasant so far. He was a good driver and his energy was always positive and warm while he also eased your mind about your upcoming photoshoot. He would be there with you, and he promised that if anyone would even do as much as look at you the wrong way, he would tell them off. You were still nervous for your shoot, but knowing someone you feel safe with would be by your side made it easier.

You shared a hotel room together during your five day stay and also slept in the same bed, but Sihtric was respectful and never tried to have any sexual activities with you during the first two nights, despite aching to be intimate with you. He didn't know you would have never turned him down if he were to initiate something, but you also held off from making a move yourself because you wanted to keep things professional. And beside that, Sihtric was a real gentleman anyway, taking you out for lunch and dinner every day and always making sure you had everything you needed during your stay.

The first evening together was a little strange. You were both quite unsure about how to behave, as you were together for the first time without having any job to do or script to discuss. You eventually decided to watch some random tv in bed and, almost naturally, you ended up cuddling under the sheets. The butterflies you felt were overwhelming when you rested comfortably against Sihtric's bare chest while he had one arm wrapped around you, and you fell asleep like that not much later.

The second day you went over your contract together for the photoshoot, as Sihtric wanted to know what exactly you had agreed to, and after that you just did some sightseeing in the capital city. You ended up roaming the streets together, hand in hand, while you both slowly began to open up about some more personal things in your lives. And later that night, after dinner, you ended up all cuddled up in bed again to watch some easy tv, while Sihtric uploaded some content to his OnlyFans which he had already made before the trip. 

Sihtric chuckled when he saw the notification pop up on his phone that you had liked the video he had just shared, which was a rather sensual video of him jerking off in his shower, and you grinned when Sihtric looked at you with a mild side-eye.

'What?' you snorted, 'you know I see that stuff when you post it.'

'Yeah, well,' Sihtric laughed a little shyly, 'it's weird to see you're watching me touch myself while I'm literally next to you.'

'You should've thought about that before,' you smiled and shrugged.

Sihtric shook his head lightly and rolled his eyes while he smiled, 'Yes, okay, just… just stop watching now.'

'Fine,' you fake huffed and locked your phone, then rolled over to your other side of the bed and switched off the lights.

'Hey,' Sihtric complained.

'What?' you shrugged, 'I have to get up early tomorrow.'

'Fine,' Sihtric sighed, not even close to being annoyed but still pretending that he was, and he also put his phone down. 

And then, once again like the night before, he almost naturally cuddled up to you from behind while you both dozed off.

Today, the third day of your trip, was the day of the photoshoot. You arrived to set early to get your hair and make-up done, while Sihtric was present in your dressing room and just minding his own business, mainly scrolling on his phone and keeping up with what was going on in the industry. You occasionally glanced at him, without his knowledge, by looking in the mirror and seeing him sit behind you, looking so ridiculously sexy while he was just wearing some simple black sweatpants and a loose fitted black shirt, while the unshaved side of his head showed his messy curls. You felt truly blessed to have him around and cherished every second in his presence. And once you were all dressed and ready, Sihtric followed you quietly when you were called on set.

'Good luck,' he smiled and gave you a wink, to which you felt yourself blush and thanked him before you carefully walked in your enormous white latex heels to the mark on the floor.

Everything started off well, and Sihtric was glad to see you were treated decently. He was also glad to be there to witness your stunning look, as you were dressed in a tight fitting and dangerously short skirt with a matching white, stretchy crop top. And it all went fine, until the photographer, who Sihtric then realised was the Aethelred, told you to lower your top seemingly out of nowhere. Sihtric carefully monitored the situation from a distance and he watched your response before deciding if he had to interfere or not.

'My top? But…I,' you stammered, a little bewildered, 'I wasn't told…that…'

'Listen,' Aethelred sighed and threw his hands up, 'show those tits or go home, okay?'

You stared at the photographer, desperately fighting your tears and the tremble that was about to take over your lower lip. You were too ashamed to look for Sihtric in the crowded room, and your shaky hands then slowly reached for the neck of your white stretchy top, and you curled your fingers around the fabric as you swallowed hard. You came all this way and you needed the money, while Aethelred was also one of the most famous explicit photographers in the business, so you felt like you were in no position to disagree. But just before you could unwillingly expose your breasts, Sihtric jumped up from his chair and stormed over from across the room.

'Hey!' Sihtric shouted, which startled everyone on set, 'was that in the contract?'

Aethelred stared at you and then at Sihtric, not sure what to say as the man with fury in his mismatched eyes came closer, so he just laughed awkwardly while he felt his face turn red.

'Well, showing more skin will make her more popular,' Aethelred nervously argued while Sihtric got up in his face.

'But was that in the contract?' Sihtric asked again, more threatening this time as he already knew the answer to his own question.

'I… well…' Aethelred stammered.

Sihtric then looked at you and asked you the same question.

'No,' you said, barely louder than a whisper, 'this was not described as a topless shoot.'

Sihtric looked back at Aethelred, who was fuming as much as he was actually terrified.

'Well,' the photographer cleared his throat, 'if she wants to continue working in this industry, she better listens-'

'I think we both heard enough,' Sihtric cut him off and backed away, 'come,' he said as he came over to you, 'we're leaving.'

'But, Sihtric, I… I need the money,' you confessed quietly.

'You don't, let's go,' he said and held his hand out to you but he saw the clear doubt in your eyes, 'I got you, okay? You're not going to work with this guy anymore. Don't worry about the money.'

'But it's Aethelred,' you whispered, 'he… you know he's big in the industry, Sihtric, he can ruin my career if I leave now-'

'No,' Sihtric protested, 'he will not ruin your career. That is just what everyone makes you think so they can pressure you into undressing for them. But this is not how it works, sweetheart, trust me. This is not okay, and we're leaving,' he said sternly.

You needed a moment to let his words soak in, but then you took his hand. Sihtric attempted to walk you with him, past Aethelred, but the latter suddenly grabbed your arm and you gasped as he pulled you towards him and away from Sihtric.

'I will make sure you will never get hired again,' Aethelred hissed at you.

Sihtric turned and saw Aethelred's bruising grip on your arm, and he gave the photographer a harsh shove away from you to which every employee on set turned their heads and became quiet.

'If you touch her again,' Sihtric growled, 'I will fucking sue you!'

'Do you know who I am?' Aethelred scoffed, arrogantly.

'Do you know who I am?' Sihtric asked, to which Aethelred took a few steps back, 'and do you have any idea how hard I work to create a safe space for these girls in this industry? To keep them away from assholes like you? And I… I will fucking ruin you,' Sihtric nearly whispered as he got full up into Aethelred's face, 'and not ruin you in the pleasant kind of way, sweetheart. I can expose you for the creep that you are and then I will make sure you never get hired again. You got that, Aethelcunt?'

Aethelred didn't speak, he just stared at Sihtric with his jaw clenched. He knew his behaviour with girls had been awful, but no one had ever dared to confront him about it so he never cared, until now.

'I asked if you got that?' Sihtric pushed his question.

'Y-yes,' he said hoarsely.

'Good,' Sihtric said, 'now apologise to the lady.'

Everyone held their breath as they stared at Aethelred, the famous photographer who was finally being put in his place for his misogynistic behaviour over the years, and they all secretly enjoyed how embarrassed he was.

'I… I'm sorry,' Aethelred mumbled.

'What was that?' Sihtric spoke up, thickening the awkward tension.

'I said I'm sorry!'

'Good,' Sihtric smiled, satisfied at humiliating the poor excuse of a man, 'if I ever see your face again…'

Sihtric didn't have to finish his sentence for everyone to understand what would happen if they crossed paths again, and he circled his arm around your waist to help you walk back to your dressing room in those ridiculously high heels. You changed back into your own short black skirt with a comfy hoodie on top without saying a word, and after that Sihtric drove you back to the hotel, the drive being just as quiet as the dressing room had been.

There was a tension between the two of you since that moment on set, not an uncomfortable one or a threatening one, but there was something lingering and unspoken. A heavy pressure you both felt, which was building up as the drive back to the hotel continued, and with each passing second that gnawing feeling intensified. Sihtric felt his heart pounding in his chest when his eyes trailed off the road and to your bare legs, while you heard the sound of your own blood pumping in your ears as you looked at his hand clenched on the gear stick. You silently imaged his hand around your throat, while Sihtric imagined your legs thrown over his shoulders, and the quiet tension became thicker once you got out of the car and stepped into the hotel elevator. 

Sihtric stared at doors as they closed, his jaw clenched and his eyes dark, and the light shock the elevator gave when it went up seemed to be the moment you both lost control. You grabbed Sihtric's shirt while he immediately reached for your face, pulling each other closer and crashing your lips together in a passionate and heated kiss. Sihtric pushed you up against the steel wall and hooked his arms under your legs, lifting you with ease and you instinctively enveloped your legs around his waist while your lips never left his. You felt his tongue in your mouth as he kissed you with such force, it was almost painful but you were desperate to kiss him until your lips were bruised. Your tongues slid around each other's and your hand moved up in his curls, the other settled on his neck to keep the kiss as deep as possible while Sihtric moaned into your mouth and squeezed your buttocks with such force it bruised your skin.

The elevator came to a halt at the eleventh floor, and Sihtric lowered you down before the doors could open. You felt the ground beneath your feet as soon as the elevator bell sounded and you grabbed Sihtric's arm to pull him with you immediately once the doors opened. You almost tripped over your own feet because of the haste you were in, but Sihtric caught you in time and pulled you flush against him while he pushed you to walk backwards to the room.

'Eager,' Sihtric chuckled and kissed you intensely again.

Your back hit the door of your hotel room and, while Sihtric kissed you, your hands searched the pockets of his sweatpants for the keycard, but you felt something much more exciting and began to rub his hard cock instead.

'Back pocket,' he murmured and pushed his hips into yours.

You reached for his back pocket and fished out the card, then turned to swipe the key, but before you could open the door Sihtric had already shoved your skirt up and pressed his clothed arousal against your ass, while you were trapped between his body and the door. You smiled and pushed your behind back against his crotch, which earned you a low chuckle from Sihtric and then you finally pushed open the door. You both almost fell into the room and Sihtric was fast to kick the door shut behind him, then picked you up and threw you on the bed.

'I wanna fuck you so hard,' he breathed while mounted on top of you, lips lightly touching while he grinded his hips against yours, 'lovingly though,' he chuckled.

'Then fuck me hard, Sihtric,' you whispered with a smile and teasingly traced his jaw with your fingertips, 'lovingly or not.'

The next morning you woke up in Sihtric's arms, and you both figured you needed a shower after you ended up having sex once again the night before.

'You go first,' Sihtric murmured, still half asleep.

'No, you can go,' you smiled while you tried to keep your eyes open.

'Well,' Sihtric said and paused to yawn, 'maybe we should shower together then.'

'Maybe we should,' you giggled, your hands roaming his naked body under the sheets.

'Oh, you want it to be that kind of a shower?' Sihtric smiled, then rolled over and picked you up in his arms with ease and carried you into the fancy bathroom.

'Should we… film something?' you asked almost shyly.

'Do you want to?'

'Yeah, I mean now that I won't get paid for that photoshoot, you know,' you shrugged lightly, 'I need to earn some money.'

Yesterday after dinner, and after another wild sex adventure, Sihtric had told you that you should consider making exclusive content for your OnlyFans, while also making stuff on your own terms and selling it to the studio you have a contract with. That is exactly what Sihtric did and it worked for him, being in control of his own footage and who he works with while also having a safe environment to work in. It was a new way of working for you and you needed to get the hang of it, and you figured why not make a short video with Sihtric as your first exclusive OnlyFans content, as the demand for you two together was clearly there.

Sihtric was up for it, without a doubt, and he was quick to grab his tripod and the camera he always travelled with and used to shoot his own footage whenever he felt like it. Within minutes he had it set up and rolling, starting the shoot with you from behind, completely naked and sensually leaning in to feel if the running water had a pleasurable temperature. And everything that followed after was just as hot and steamy as you hoped it would be, and only a few hours later you had the ten minute long video uploaded to you page, which quickly gained the interest of many and you saw the number of your paid subscribers increase with each passing minute.

And so you figured that maybe Sihtric was right. Maybe this would be a good way for you to work and make money while still enjoying it, as you had full control over who you decided to work with, if with anyone. Because, like Sihtric, you could also just make solo content. And with that newfound motivation and confidence, you went home the next afternoon, after having shared the bed with Sihtric a few more times though.

'Thanks for everything,' you said after he had dropped you off at your home, 'for looking after me and helping me and all that. It means a lot.'

'Anytime,' Sihtric smiled, 'you take it easy. Focus on making your own content and I promise you will be just fine. And only work with those you are comfortable with, okay?'

'Like you?' you chuckled.

'Sure, like me,' he laughed softly, 'I'm always just a text away, sweetheart,' he said and pulled you in for a hug, then kissed your cheek to say goodbye and you promised each other to stay in touch this time.

While you and Sihtric texted on a regular basis since your trip, you found out after a few weeks that your OnlyFans content wasn't just popular amongst the porn consumers, but suddenly a lot of fellow adult movie stars wanted to work with you privately as well. And one of them being very persistent was Masema. Masema was all about making money, and he knew that right now you were one of the people who he could make a lot of money with. You knew he wanted to work with you again ever since that movie you made with him, but it seemed that after he saw your short video with Sihtric, and the success it had, he had only gotten more eager. 

He suggested shooting at least two videos, one for his page and one for your own, and maybe some explicit photos as well. You liked his idea and you couldn't lie either, you wouldn't mind shooting some footage with him, so you decided to accept his request. You met him a few weeks later at his insanely fancy house again, while dressed in one of your signature short skirts with knee high boots and a faux leather crop top.

'It's good to see you again,' Masema flirted right away with his soft spoken voice as you both had a seat on that famous loungeset near his pool.

'Good to see you too,' you smiled and couldn't hide a faint blush on your cheeks.

He looked insanely good, as always, wearing tight black jeans and a black shirt. You didn't feel the same way about Masema as you felt about Sihtric, but you weren't completely unaffected by his good looks and his smooth voice either. And Masema clearly knew the effect he had on basically every lady he met with for work, and he used it to his advantage. He thought you were hot, but he wasn't in love with you, yet he'd go out of his way to try and make you believe you were the only one for him to make you want him more and more. And so he lightly brushed his fingers against your arms and shoulders while you had some small talk, setting you on fire with each touch and making you so desperately needy for him.

'So you're good with the idea?' Masema made sure to double check.

'Two videos, right?' you recalled, 'one blowjob, which will be exclusively for my page, and one of us just fucking for your page, right?'

'Yeah,' Masema nodded, 'that should do it.'

You agreed and Masema took your hand, 'So what are you up for first, pretty girl?'

'I think we should film that sex video first because we both know you're going to ruin my make-up when you shove your cock down my throat,' you said deadpan, to which you both burst into laughter seconds after.

'Yeah, I'll apologise in advance for making you cry,' Masema said softly and took your chin as he leaned in, 'but you do look so fucking sexy all ruined by me like that,' he trailed his fingers down to your neck, 'and it makes me so fucking hard.'

'Shouldn't you save that talk for the video?' you purred.

'We better start filming then,' Masema murmured with a cheeky smile.

He took your hand and led you back inside and up the stairs. He had a large spare room set up, from where he filmed most of his videos, and it had a comfortable looking bed and a large couch against the wall. The entire room was painted a fresh white and it was cleaner than a dentist's office, which showed you how professional Masema actually was underneath his rugged and stern look.

'I'm surprised to see no chains and leather stuff,' you chuckled as Masema switched the camera on which he had set up already.

'I got another room for that, gorgeous,' Masema smiled, 'but I know you're not into that, or at least not as experienced yet, so I have no business taking you there.'

'You have another room?'

'Yeah,' he scoffed with a laugh, 'why do you think I have so many bedrooms? I have one room that's just where I sleep, and all the other bedrooms are more or less different sets for shooting at home.'

'You don't really shoot at studios then?' you frowned.

'Absolutely not,' Masema shook his head, 'I did it with you that one time, but it's not something I usually do because I want to be in full control of what I do. And as soon as I got well known and respected enough to be in control of that, I designed every room here to be a different space. This industry is nasty, sweetheart,' he sighed, 'it's better to be in control of your own footage, trust me.'

'Y-yeah,' you cleared your throat and sat down on the large bed, 'Sihtric told me the same thing. He also prefers to make his own content.'

'Sihtric,' Masema mumbled, 'yeah, he got his business well arranged too it seems. But you know all about that, don't you?' he smirked.

'What's that supposed to mean?' you chuckled.

'We all saw that livestream you did with him,' he said as he neared you, 'and that shower video you uploaded a few weeks ago. I gotta ask… are you two dating?'

'What? No,' you blushed, 'we're not dating.'

'You make a lot of footage together.'

'Yeah, but… we're not dating. He's been helping me set up a safer place too, like you did here for yourself. He's looking out for me, you know?'

'That's kind of him,' Masema said half-heartedly.

'Yeah,' you smiled, 'he really is the sweetest guy I know. No offence.'

'Well, fuck,' Masema laughed, 'you're in love with him, aren't you?'

'Oh, shut up,' you laughed and slapped his muscular chest.

'Fine,' he leaned in, smoothly taking your chin again, 'you could belong to me, you know?' he lied.

Masema was not a guy to settle down, but he enjoyed knowing he could probably steal a girl away from someone. And Sihtric was competition in the business, so if he could hurt him somehow, he'd do it.

'I don't belong to anyone, Masema,' you said quietly while your heart skipped a beat at his touch.

'I don't care if you belong to someone or don't,' he whispered and traced your lips with his thumb, 'because regardless, I'll make you forget about everyone else when I fuck you.'

Masema smiled darkly and winked, then moved away to start filming while you moved off the bed and took your position on his white couch, leaning back relaxed and seductively to welcome him over. Masema joined you by sitting next to you, and you started off easy by making out sloppily until he had you so needy, you sat in his lap and grinded his thigh desperately, to which he smiled darkly once again. He truly had corrupted you that first time, making your shy and innocent side disappear as soon as he kissed you, seeing you change into the needy girl you were for him, and he loved it.

'Good girl,' Masema smiled as he looked up at you, sitting back with his arms spread across the backrest, just watching how you tried to get off on your own.

'Please,' you whined after a few minutes, 'Masema,' you breathed, 'fuck me, please.'

'Beg for it,' he said sternly and didn't move an inch.

You then moved off him and down on the floor in front of him, looking up with pleading eyes as Masema got up and towered over you. He took your chin firmly as he leaned in.

'I said beg.'

'Please,' you mumbled with a dazed smile, 'fuck me, please.'

'Good girl,' he whispered, 'take off my belt.'

He stood back as you obeyed, taking off his belt and unbuttoning his jeans while your mouth nearly watered, but you knew you couldn't suck him off now, you had to save that for later. There was no oral pleasure planned for this video, just sex.

Masema took off his shirt and you kissed your way up his toned torso, leaving red lipstick smudges all over his skin and he picked you up before you could kiss his lips again. He threw you on his bed and tore your panties off along with your skirt. He grabbed your ankle and pulled you towards the end of the bed where he stood, and he wrapped his hand around your throat pleasantly while he pulled his cock out and spat on his hand before he gave himself a few good strokes.

'Beg,' Masema said curtly.

'Fuck me, please,' you said with your cheeky laugh as you squirmed desperately on the sheets, 'please.'

You spread your legs for him, and he teasingly slapped your wet pussy with his hard cock a few times before he entered you. You arched your back and moaned with pleasure as soon as he began to thrust into you so deeply, easing you into it at first, but before you knew it he fucked you so hard into the mattress with his hand still wrapped around your throat and the other holding your waist almost bruisingly as he had his way with you.

'Fuck,' you moaned, 'ah, god, yes, fuck me.'

'You dirty slut,' Masema growled and only went harder while you clenched the sheets in your hands, not holding back or having to fake any moans and gasps while you were ravaged in all the right ways until you could barely remember your own name.

You climaxed fast but Masema kept going, promising he'd make you cum twice while he continued to ravage you. He tossed you around the bed, taking you in different positions and spanking your ass multiple times.

'I'm going to cum again,' you whined as he fucked you hard and fast.

'I told you,' he breathed, 'that's okay, sweetheart, cum for me.'

'Fuck, fuck,' you nearly screamed and clawed at the pillows your face was pressed into, 'oh, please, fuck.'

'That's it,' Masema moaned, 'that's it, that's it, cum for me.'

You came with another loud moan and Masema pulled out shortly after, he stroked his cock almost violently while he pulled you to sit up and he grabbed your face with his free hand.

'Open,' he said with a low grunt.

You did what he asked while still half dazed and allowed him to cum on your tongue as you had stuck it out for him.

'Good fucking girl,' Masema said hoarsely as he stroked himself through his high, and he then kissed you before he switched off the camera.

In between filming that first video and the second one, Masema took good care of you by making sure you were all cleaned up and comfortable while you both recovered. You were dressed in one of his comfortable oversized shirts while Masema wore his black jeans again. You had made your way downstairs to the kitchen together, where he made you some "dinner". You quietly looked at the salad he was preparing as you sat on one of the barstools, and you suddenly missed the pizza and tacos you had with Sihtric after you had sex with him that afternoon you had walked away from the photoshoot.

Masema was very kind and wanted you to be comfortable, but you secretly longed to be with Sihtric now. Masema was not as lighthearted and also very strict about his working out and diet, while your other co-star was just as good looking and not strict at all. With Sihtric it was always comfortable and you could truly be yourself, but Masema's personality was so different that you always felt you had to stay in work-mode around him, so you never really had any deep conversations or got to know each other better. Which was fine too, but you couldn't resist texting Sihtric to let him know Masema was making you a salad while you missed the fast food you had shared in the hotel weeks ago.

To your disappointment Sihtric didn't reply and left you on read, which was an odd thing for him to do because he usually replied within minutes. You tried to not think much about it and, luckily, Masema was nice looking company too so you just observed him while he served the food. You both ate in silence, which was almost awkward, and after that you helped him load the dishwasher which was just as awkward. And the time you spent together in his living room was just as awkward for you as the previous moments had been. You and Masema had chemistry during sexual activities, but other than that there was genuinely no vibe.

'So, ready to shoot?' Masema asked about an hour later, much to your relief.

'Ready when you are,' you smiled.

You went upstairs again and both undressed, and you shot what was probably the sloppiest blowjob you had ever given someone in your life. The result was filthy but you were proud, because you knew this would earn you some good money. You both fixed yourself up separately and got dressed again, but as you wanted to leave you both suddenly saw the weather outside had turned rather dangerous as rain and wind was gushing forcefully.

'It's not safe to drive,' Masema said as he stood in the front door with you, 'you should stay until it clears up.'

'But that's tomorrow morning,' you said and showed him the weather app on your phone.

Masema was quiet for a moment as he stared in the dark distance, mindlessly tracing his fingers across his bare chest.

'Well,' he said softly, 'I guess it's better to stay the night then.'

You agreed, not entirely reluctantly, but you'd rather sleep in your own bed. Or with Sihtric. And the difference between both men became evident again once you laid in bed together, on the opposite sides of the mattress and with your backs turned to each other after having said good night.

You grabbed your phone and saw there was still no response from Sihtric, which unsettled you. You decided to upload the video that was shot for you OnlyFans, so it could spread across the viewers while you were asleep, and you tried to go to sleep then. You tossed and turned in bed for a while as Masema was already snoring next to you, and you grabbed your phone again after a few long minutes, checking to see if Sihtric had texted you back already. But there still wasn't any reply, and with a lump in your throat you decided to text him again.

You: thinking of you, handsome xx

You saw Sihtric read your message immediately upon sending, as he was in his own bed, contemplating to text you before you reached out again. He ached, badly, knowing that you had been with Masema that night and having seen the video you shared had simply crushed him. He knew it was just work, and that's all it was, but he couldn't get over it and it frustrated him beyond words. Maybe this business wasn't for him anymore, he pondered before he finally wrote you back, and then threw his phone across the room and cried himself to sleep.

Your eyes teared up when Sihtric's message appeared, and you wept silently while you laid next to Masema in the dark and quiet room.

Sihtric: missing you deeply, angel, so much I feel it could kill me.

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if you want to be added to/deleted from the taglist, message me 🖤

[laithraihan]

now i’m kinda curious to hear what you think of proshipping.. if you don’t mind of course

I'll share my thoughts, and if theres anything I say that doesnt make sense feel free to point it out to me because I mostly write with the help of a translator. Under the cut because I wrote too much stuff.

TLDR: proshippers hate me because I dont want to look at glorified depictions of pedophilia/incest/etc, antis hate me because my content isnt 100% sanitized. I stay around anti circles because I find it slightly easier for me to talk about my headcanons with them even though I think they can be insufferable.

So the thing about proshipping. From what I've seen it means being "anti-harassment" and being in support of curating your online experience, which sounds great on paper and that's practically what I do. I have over 3k accounts blocked on my personal twitter to navigate the website more easily and I also dont care if someone blocks me if they dont like my stuff.

Except proshippers never consider me a proshipper because I am uncomfortable with viewing glorified depictions of topics like pedophilia, incest, rape, all that stuff. The same way people are uncomfortable with excessive blood and gore (which I also can't really handle seeing). Whether or not it's always easy to tell if it's glorified is an entirely different topic, which is precisely why I stay away from all depictions in general to avoid being intrusive.

And what's interesting is that I do not label myself an "anti". Mainly because I don't even know what the term "anti" is supposed to mean ("anti-" what exactly. Genuinely please tell me because I actually dont know) But the ones who label themselves "proship" always call me an anti, because again I do not wish to engage with content related to pedophilia etc, and that alone apparently enough to be considered "a person who harasses others over fiction" even if I mind my own business and have no interest in forcing my personal tastes on others, especially if they make it clear that they wont change their mind. Which makes me believe that for a lot of self-identified proshippers, the definition of being "proship" would be more similar to "I love fucked up stuff and if you dont then youre lame and it obviously means you can't tell the difference between fiction and reality" which honestly seems like insecurity to me.

Forgive me for bringing up this up once again but I want to mention an example to make it easier for me to explain: yknow the whole thing with me drawing Minori and Reigen and labelling it "non-cp" which caused a wave of both self-identified antis and proshippers harassing me over that (I'll say that proshippers were more bold about it since the antis harassing me were all anonymous). Proshippers saw me saying "I dont ship that" and interpreted it as me being defensive and in denial, as if I said "guys I swear Im an anti !!! please dont think im a proshipper !!! ", when I meant "I dont want to discuss this with others in a shipping manner because thats not how I see it and I dont want to enter a space Im not comfortable with"

I admit I responded to this situation in a petty manner, but this was after several days of harassment done directly in my inbox and publicly (sometimes I wish yall remembered that group chats and priv accounts exist). My point is that simply saying you don't like seeing pedophilia in fiction is enough for proshippers to believe it's justified for them to harass you over it (and I'm fully aware they'll say it's not harassment, only when antis and "puriteens" do this to them then it's harassment)

Now about the anti side. Don't get me started on them either. If proshippers see me as an enemy then this must mean that I always get along with the ones who call themselves "antis" (I do not). Note that Im only talking about adults here, I dislike beefing with children and I think their feelings about this are entirely reasonable (I'll elaborate on this when talking about internet safety)

But anyways. I think a lot of adults are discourse-brained and do way too much. Im thinking of nonsense like "this ship is problematic because they are 'sibling-coded' so thats basically incest" "siblings giving each other a hug gives me proship vibes" things of that nature. And you're not allowed to do anything that even has the smallest possibility of being interpreted as "problematic", because then they'll harass you for it, and if you clarify your intentions, they expect you to apologize for "misleading" them because clearly they didnt do anything wrong by making assumptions about you.

There's almost no room allowed for creativity with them, everyone has to follow fanon because they consider it canon, if you ever want to try something other than the same boring domestic fluff then it's "too much" (and not even platonic affection is acceptable to draw in certain cases). Which is incredibly fucking boring to me who wants to see different types of content. People even said I was enjoying incest for drawing Reigen selfcest, and that I was "making others uncomfortable" by drawing it. Genuinely seems to me that they only care about moral superiority, that they never think about anything in depth, and I dont think they realize that it also shows in what they create: boring and repeated fanart and headcanons where the only thing you can say about it is "thats cute", nothing more because you saw it ten billion times already. You cant draw two people showing platonic affection that absolutely nobody would bat an eye if it happened in real life, you cant discuss something specific in more depth without people saying you have a fetish for it, and then they'll harass you based on their speculation that it's a fetish. I dont think many realize this, but fandoms are full of autistic people, so it's normal to see people who are interested in very specific things that dont make sense to others! I wish people were less judgmental, but at the same time I dont care if people think Im weird. I think what I mean is theres no reason to mistreat weird people who do no harm to others.

So yeah if you call yourself an "anti" I'll assume youre spend too much time engaging in fandom discourse and you're the type of person to believe that fanart where two people are holding hands is the equivalent to drawing them fucking each other. Which I think is a very childish mindset to have and it's worrying that many adults think this way. I also think that as an adult they should be capable of blocking stuff they hate instead of constantly arguing with people online because at this point it's just mental torture.

The thing about internet safety I mentioned earlier, I'd say this is the one thing that I'll always prioritize discussing whenever proship discourse comes up.... To put it simply: filter and limit the visibility of your content, do not put triggering stuff in the main tags, stay in your own circles. Whether or not you believe fictional rape/pedophilia/etc is bad is irrelevant, my point is that these are objectively triggering topics and should be filtered just like how there are warnings for violence and blood even if it's not real.

"But it's the parents' responsibility to control what kids look at online, this has nothing to do with me!" and I agree with the parents being the ones Primarily responsible. However the reality is that children are online and there's nothing you can do to stop it from happening. Kids will also enter spaces theyre not allowed in, theyre children and children are rebellious especially teenagers, I was like this as a teenager too. You'd be lying if you said you were always obedient since childhood and never did anything you were told Not to do. And you can't really expect teenagers to always block and not interact if they see something triggering. It's your responsibility to block them if they interact with you, because what I see most of the time is adults bickering with teenagers who are uncomfortable, calling them "puriteens", putting them on blast and allowing other adults including NSFW accounts to dunk on them.

Humiliating and degrading teenagers does not "teach them a lesson", it only makes the teenager more stubborn and reactive. Adults must accept that kids will always find their way in there even if your content isnt easily accessible. So I think it's stupid to feel offended at a child because they got upset when they found upsetting content like how any normal child would react. Which is why I wish more adults would keep blocking without saying anything petty to provoke teenagers.

Before someone pancake-waffles me and says "so youre fine with antis doxxing people" no I do not support doxxing. Ive been doxxed so I know it sucks. However the only times Ive seen it go this far is after continuous arguing because nobody knows when to stop. Im not saying this applies all the time nor am I saying doxxing is fine, but there are ways to minimize this sort of outcome as much as possible. Both sides have doxxed people over petty arguments that couldve easily been avoided if they just blocked each other and moved on.

The topic above (internet safety) is probably the only thing related to this where Im actively telling others what they should be doing. It's not only teenagers who are triggered by depictions of pedophilia etc but also adults like myself. In my case Im old enough to block content I dislike without saying a word, however I cant help but think that there's not enough being done about filtering especially when I do not search for this type of content and I still see it all the time.

I also think it's important for me to mention that I have a very poor sense of morality. I do not have a personal moral code that I adhere to, and I mostly stick to the basic universal ones that make sense to me. So I will not discuss the "morals" of consuming this stuff because I am not adequate to share an opinion on this, and I know the most popular topic of discussion related to proship discourse is morality which I frankly find counterproductive. I dont understand why people should care so much if I find something morally correct or not, unless it's to make themselves feel better about having a "superior opinion" to mine. Though I will say that if a man tells me he's into rape "but only in fiction!" then I dont think it will stop me of imagining myself bashing his skull repeatedly with large rocks. Maybe Im too mistrustful of men in general.

Final point I want to clarify is that I am not trying to assert some sort of superiority over people by disliking both sides, like saying "Im not an anti or a proshipper Im a Normal person" or something like that, and Im not expressing a "neutral" stance on the topic of fiction's influence on reality either. There are topics like racism and orientalism in fiction that Im vocal about (which is expected since Im Algerian). I genuinely believe there are many things that are interesting to discuss and should be prioritized, but too many people are chronically online, subjective and defensive, at this point I dont even think it's accurate to say that disliking one side automatically means you support the other side regarding fiction. To me, "proship discourse" is not about the debate of the effects of fiction on reality, censorship in media, etc. It's about everything I described earlier that happens online.

[canonfeminine]

　　FLOWER GIRL AND WATER BOY

🎀💐 ₊˚⊹♫ … Percy Jackson x Human! Florist! Reader

in which: Percy seems to always end up in your shop, no matter the circumstances.

authors note: y'all, I gotta come clean about this.. this was supposed to be a Frank fic but I don't think this would fit him 😭. as much as I love my mans Frank, I gotta give him something that works with him, yk?

warnings: mention an injury & of death ( but only like once )

Having your own flower shop was always a part of the plan.

For generations, the very store you stood in has been a shop of any kind. Groceries, clothes, jewelry, books—anything you could think of, it was probably stored in the place before. Though, after the death of your grandparent, the story was passed down to you. And since you loved flowers, of course you turned it into a flower shop.

Now, being a small business owner and a student in New York was pretty difficult. Especially getting money because most people would go to the bigger, larger stories with less authentic things. But thankfully, your friends and classmates made sure to help out.

They made flyers which helped more people come in, and they would come in whenever they could (even if they didn't need flowers.) They knew you ran the store by yourself, and you appreciated their help.

Though, there was one more thing you loved about having the shop open.

There was this boy that went to your school, Percy Jackson (who you found out that his real name is Perseus and not Percy,) that you weren't that close with. He seemed cool to you, of course. But something that kinda threw you off was that girls (and boys) just naturally traveled to him.

Look, a wise woman once said (aka you mother,) "don't go for a dude with too many girls (and boys) around him. It doesn't ever end up well."

So you took that advice with you everywhere you went. No matter how charming or amazing the dude was, he would always have to show that he didn't care about the attention he was getting—and that he cared more about you than any of it.

And.. well, Percy had been showing that he didn't care.

Each time he would come into the shop, you thought he was here to get flowers from the shop for his potential next partner, but most of the time it was for his little sister or mom.

Or it was to talk to you.

You didn't know what he found so interesting in you, but he always found a way to talk himself into a conversation with you. Not that you minded, of course. Percy was a pretty cool dude. But there was something about him, like this odd feeling that you got in your stomach. But you just assumed it was you getting nervous.

But one day, Percy came into your shop (like he normally did,) but he seemed more nervous this time. More anxious, more afraid, and really? just not.. Percy. "Hey, Percy!" You greeted him, looking away from the flowers you were wrapping for a customer.

"Hey..Uhm, can I ask a really weird question?" He asked, walking up to the front desk.

You nodded and smiled. "Yeah? I work in a flower shop. I get asked odd questions all the time."

Percy slightly laughed, but winced. At that point, you had noticed he was holding his side. "So, I kinda fell off my skateboard and messed up my side.." He lifted up his shirt, showing the very obvious large, bleeding cut on his side. "Do you have a med kit I coul-"

At this point, you were already looking behind the desk for one. You knew you had one, with how clumsy a lot of passerby's are, sometimes you just need one. But that? I think we can both tell it had to be more than that.

"Here." You got back up and placed the medkit onto the desk. "You gonna need help with that?" You asked, looking at him with a concerned look.

"Would it be weird if I said yes?" Percy asked in return.

"Nah, it would be weirder if I said no."

[Little time skip :3]

At some point between you finishing patching Percy up, You could have sworn a customer had in. And since you were pretty much done with helping him, you were about to excuse yourself so you could help them out.

But before you could get up, Percy looked over at you. "Hey, Uhm, [Name]?"

"Hm?" You looked at him, a slightly confused look on your face.

"Thanks.. again. I know it's kinda weird to be helping someone you don't really know that well, but I really do appreciate it." He leaned up and smiled.

"No problem! I mean, you seem pretty cool and even if I don't really know you, it seems like you have a good reputation in the school." You nudged his shoulder.

"Do I?" He blushed. "I-I mean, yeah. I guess I do.." He rubbed the back of his neck.

"Can I say one more weird thing?"

"Go ahead."

"I kinda want to be friends with you..?" He said slowly.

"Why is that a weird thing to say?" You laughed. "I wanna be friends with you too, Percy."

"Really?" He asked in a surprised tone.

You rolled your eyes. "Yes, really. Now, if you excuse me, I have to go help this customer." You got up, but before you left, you gave Percy a smile.

And he smiled back.

[sitp-recs]

Hello! Not sure if you'll respond but I thought I'd ask about it anyway.

Would you happen to know of any fics with a very complex characterization of Draco and Harry with a bit of gut wrenching situations? Preferably older D&H after the war. I'm even open to tragedy, even cheating(?) and just something that is out of the ordinary. I know I'm shit at explaining this but, I'm just like, craving a fic that has adult problems, where one/both of them are at a moment of life where things are complex. Maybe H left D a while ago and married someone else, and then after a few years he sees him again and is just lost in a haze of "what if I hadn’t?" or "what to do with myself now?" because getting back with him isn’t easy? I'm sorry for this weird messy ask but you are the first person who came to my mind who I thought could help me out? Sorry for rambling so much! It's definitely alright if you can't find anything like this of course! Have a great day!

What an interesting ask, anon! I’m a bit picky with gut-wrenching themes but I do love myself a thought-provoking, mature fic. It’s about the implications and complications amirite 🤌🏼 this list is a personal take so I’m not sure it is what you’re looking for, but here are some fics that came to mind when I read your ask. Pls mind the tags before jumping in. I’d be very curious to see what my followers rec too!

Kissed by Pie (M, 12k)

Draco Malfoy was attacked by a rogue Dementor on the night of his Azkaban release. He self-exiled to Muggle London and opened a late-night chocolate shop called Kissed.

Poor Unfortunate Souls by DoubleApple (E, 19k)

Draco is a potioneer. Harry is trying to save his sex-challenged marriage. Everything is a mess, but at least there's an octopus in the lobby.

Unfinished Business by cupiscent (E, 20k)

Ten years after the War ends, Harry and Draco still haven't got their act together. But maybe it's not too late.

Stain of Silence by brummell (E, 28k)

After the war, Draco serves out his sentence in Harry Potter's house.

He Who Must Not Be Normal by lettered (E, 41k)

Potter has fame and fortune and posh clothes and all he wants is a simple life. Draco has a flat and a cat and a steady job and all he wants is a complicated life. Which makes you think this story has something exciting like body-swapping, but it doesn’t.

On One's Knees by pir8fancier (E, 34k)

The war is over and to the victors go the spoils. If you are triggered by infidelity, this is not the fic for you.

REVOLVEVLOVER by firethesound, zeitgeistic (E, 46k)

The work Harry does is justifiable. It’s justice. He works for his country, and his country is a republic—the magical side, anyway. It’s not laudable work, it’s not work he’s proud of, but it’s necessary work. Harry has always taken the necessary jobs that no one else has the stomach for. It’s just that he’s never deciphered a kill sheet and seen Draco Malfoy’s name on it.

Nightingale by michi_thekiller (NC-17, 60k)

God loved the birds and invented trees. Man loved the birds and invented cages. -Jacques Deval

Super Rich Kids by trishjames (E, 81k)

Draco Malfoy has become disillusioned by the glitz and glamour of the scandalous lives of the Post-Second Wizarding War Pureblood Elite. Enter: one existential crisis, one group of thieving cynical friends, and several terrible, terrible decisions.

Merlin Works in Mysterious Ways by lordhellebore (M, 82k)

When Harry is forced to form a Blood Bond with Draco Malfoy under threat of death, he thinks his future will consist of a cold home and sexual frustration. But when a group of left-over Death Eaters decides to stir trouble, their lives change completely – and it takes them both some years to figure out whether it’s for better or for worse.

Danse Russe by Frayach (E, 140k)

True Love. Soul Mates. They're just words until put to the test. Harry and Draco have a bond that was forged in the hell of the post-war years and pulled them both back from an abyss of nihilism and self-destruction. Nothing can break it, or so they believed. But True Love can demand sacrifices too great to bear and deeds too terrible to justify.

Plus 2 fics I haven’t read but can vouch for the authors as I’m very familiar with their work:

Unhook the Stars by jad (E, 70k)

Seventy-thousand words of pornographic discourse between two boys-turned-men that still haven't learned how to communicate like normal people – with words.

Freedom to be by Quicksilvermaid (E, 170k)

Harry Potter is the Boy Who Lived. 12 years after the war, he's become the Boy Who Lived For Everyone Else. He has the perfect wife. The perfect house. The perfect job. The perfect friends. Only nothing feels perfect.

[gothra]

I’m currently on a rewatch of Supernatural, and I’m noticing a parallel with an aspect of Eric Kripke’s other project, something that I didn’t notice or care about the first time(s) I watched the show, but now I can’t stop thinking about. This relates to Sam Winchester’s consumption of demon blood and character’s (Hughie’s especially) usage of Temp V, and the language pertaining to morality that surround both of these aspects of the story.

Spoilers incoming.

In the earlier seasons of Supernatural, we establish that Sam Winchester has psychic powers due to being giving a demon’s blood as an infant.

As an adult, Sam starts getting visions pertaining to what are now his growing psychic powers, it’s only until later in the early seasons that we learn that Sam has discovered a way to control demons, by drinking demon blood, which heightens his psychic powers.

The powers he has are very useful and they come in handy multiple times. Sam can exorcise demons with his mind, a job that, before the use of demon blood, was done with a long Latin spell (that usually had to be uttered while a demon was rocking their shit) or couldn’t be done at all, requiring Sam and Dean to kill demons with a special kind of knife. Exorcism is safer for the vessel, but difficult to do, and stabbing the demons is a bit easier (not including getting within stabbing range) but it kills the demon and the vessel, which, from time to time is still being inhabited by a poor human soul that is forced to watch as the demon uses their body to do despicable things. Sam’s powers save their lives, too. He can toss demons around like ragdolls, too, and THAT comes in handy, too.

Sam’s powers are fucking cool. Not just that, they’re nearly a net positive.

Sam’s powers don’t really have a serious downside. It really seems like they would have written a severe downside into something so extreme as drinking demon blood, but they didn’t! No physical side-effects, meaning Sam’s physical body does not change, chafe, rot, or fall off every time he drinks the blood. He doesn’t hallucinate or get sick or get crazy headaches when he drinks it, just when he uses his psychic powers, and it hurts less the more he uses them. The only time he experiences physical side-effects is when he suffers from withdrawals from it. It doesn’t really alter his personality outside of the stress of hiding it and the shame of drinking it, which is to be expected. Like my friend Tyler said, “It doesn’t even make him bitchy, like when he was soulless”. There’s not even any moral problems with the method that Sam uses to collect demon blood. He drinks the blood of a demon he’s in a sexual relationship with, and she consents and encourages him to do so. He doesn’t run around kidnapping random demons and bleeding them until their vessels have run dry. He doesn’t have to do anything bad to get the demon blood. Sam doesn’t even need to drink a lot of it to deal with the demons they typically run into. Sure, he’s had to drink a lot more when it’s a bigger demon, but I wouldn’t expect anything less.

So, you can imagine my confusion upon rewatch when I realized that nobody else seemed to be on board. It would be understandable if they were tentative, or awkward or even squicked out by the blood aspect. But basically everyone Sam tells about his powers is disappointed in or angry at Sam for drinking demon blood. Mind you, this storyline is coming at a place in the Supernatural story where demons are running rampant. Sam is being mentally plagued by the demon that dropped blood into his mouth as an infant, all while he’s working with the demon who gives him the blood and helps him with his powers to take down an even bigger demon. It’s demons all the way down, yet, everyone takes the time out of their busy demon-slaying schedule to admonish Sam for drinking the blood and using his powers to help out.

Let me tell you, it’s maddening, watching people get angry at the wrong thing. It’s maddening to watch people apologize for doing something good because someone else has decided that their wrath is more important. Dean (Sam’s brother) has Sam in a moral chokehold the entire season, lecturing him, insulting him, pushing Sam aside for something that ultimately is nothing more than Dean’s personal issue. And because it’s Dean’s personal issue and Dean is a narrative favorite, his emotional and psychological needs are ultimately more important. Often, Sam doesn’t get what he deserves. His character experiences (literally) soul-destroying setbacks, and still, he is made to feel bad for doing something, when the benefits of that thing far outweigh the positives, and the negatives of that thing come off as a noble sacrifice.

You’d think I would get tired of talking about how much of a let down Season 3 of the boys is. But I got a burst of renewed energy once I realized I had something to talk about that intersected in a way that I could actually witness with my own eyes. Do I regret getting pulled back into SPN? A little bit. But, here’s the point of this:

Hughie and Sam play the same role in their respective stories. They are two people who have been deeply hurt, traumatized, damaged, and who desperately want to do some good. They both want to make a difference and make a dent in their missions.

Temp V is different than demon blood. This time, Kripke added side-effects. But the side-effects of Temp V don’t change the fact that the benefits of using it are obvious and immediate. When Butcher and Hughie use Temp V, important things happen. They came close to killing Homelander, just a pinch away. It worked. The thing that they were using the drugs for almost happened. So, denying its usefulness would be pointless.

This time, Kripke learned from his mistake. Sam didn’t experience any negative side-effects, and his personality changes seemed to be due to the stress of hiding it from his brother and constantly arguing about and attempting to justify his actions. The benefits outweighed the negatives. Hughie, on the other hand, experienced a remarkable (some would say, completely unbelievable and out of character) personality shift. Suddenly, his motives were different, ego-driven, selfish, and they tainted his actions, turning them from moral and noble, to self-centered. In Hughie’s case, the negatives and the positives are placed on an equal scale, in my opinion, by force. I think that the personality changes that they wrote for Hughie are absolutely not fitting at all, but were put in place because if they weren’t there, anyone who thought about it for more than one minute would realize that admonishing Hughie for his use of a helpful super drug is stupid. If Hughie only experienced the brain damage, he could be considered noble and brave for what he was doing. It would be tragic that he’d have to stop, and if he considered continuing to use the drug to take down Homelander after he learned about the side effects, it would endear us to Hughie and his self-sacrifice. If he only experiences the psychological side-effects, than we can even the score, then his selfishness could be enough to paint his use of Temp V as bad, as if his selfishness alone is enough to overwrite or match the immediate benefit to the mission, as if Hughie’s personal morals being in jeopardy outweigh the fact that their goal is to kill a maniacal rapist who, if given the chance, WILL kill them all, and ANYONE who stands in his way or upsets him or makes him feel inferior.

For both Sam and Hughie, they are being positioned against characters who should be considered wrong, and who should be confronted with their wrongness and never are, because their feelings on the issue, likely act as a stand-in for Eric’s feelings, and therefore, they become the narrative favorite. Dean is the suave, handsome womanizer with the gruff, yet charming personality and combat skills, and Sam is his brother. Annie is the Strong Female Character, who defies everyone because Eric needs to prove he knows how to create good female characters (he hasn’t proved that) and Hughie is her boyfriend.

Ultimately the similarities are striking. I’ve got many ideas about the reasons why Eric wrote Season 3 this way, and why he wrote Sam’s story like that, and the likelihood of these reasons increase and decrease the more I think about each of them, but that’s a separate issue and I’m very tired 😞

@deliciouskeys and @bisexualhomelander how did I do?

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Candy Girl 4

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as cheating, age gap, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: as you’re about to take the next step with your boyfriend, doubts begin to arise. (short!plus!reader)

Characters: Thor (boyfriend’s dad/silverfox)

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself. <3

After a quick flight, both thankful to Thor and embarrassed that he witnessed his son’s behaviour, you don’t know if you ever want to go back. As much as you love Magni, you’re not sure if it’s worth it. He never seems to want to do anything but play video games or sex. The latter remains a touchy subject for both of you. 

You’ll let Magni cool off, and yourself. 

This isn’t the end. You would know if it was. You send him your usual texts. Good mornings, good nights, and check in when you can. His lack of response isn’t unusual. He’s probably playing around with his bike again. You wonder if he’s figured out how to put it back together yet. 

The days pass in a blur. You have work to keep you busy. With summer in full swing, you have more than enough driving around to do. 

Between deliveries, your mind wanders. You’ll have to talk to him face-to-face, get this sorted out. You're not mad at him. It was a bad morning and a strange night. You can move past it. Right? 

You grab the next order and check the address as you get in your front seat. Huh, it’s in Magni’s neighbourhood. Maybe you can swing by and surprise him. 

You turn the engine and blast your stereo. Rihanna pumps from the speakers, a bit scratchy, but still a bop. You hunch over the wheel as you follow the rush hour traffic, tapping the breaks as you crawl along. Finally, you get to a turn off and dip down some side streets.  

You turn down the A/C as the car begins to shake. You don’t use the air much, your old beater doesn’t much like any extra stress. You turn down the volume and give an anxious look to the venting in the hood. That’s not smoke, you’re just imagining things. 

Before the job, you couldn’t tell left from right but now the whole city is imprinted in the back of your head. You know which orders to make quickly and ones where you can leave the car unlocked while you run up to the door. Magni’s is the latter. 

You roll down the avenue lazily and come up before a big white house, squinting at the number on the front door. You get out and stretch, just a few more hours. You grab the insulated bag and the paper bag with the cans of soda. You bounce up the front steps and balance it all as you ring the bell. 

You wait, glancing around at the lush greenery. It’s kind of lame to dream of living in a place like this. Basic, your friends tease, but you just want to know what it’s like. Maybe it’s just as bad as what you have, just painted up nice. 

You can’t really complain. You have a roof and food and job. Could be a lot worse. 

The door opens and jolts you from your internal turmoil. You blink and step back, once more looking around. You know for sure you didn’t go to the wrong house. Thor’s house isn’t even the same colour. So what is he doing there? 

“Ah, little one, I was hoping it would be you,” he booms. 

“Huh?” You make a dumb face. 

“I thought it’d be a fun surprise,” he grins, “my friend’s,” he points up then reaches into his back pocket, “they suggested pizza and I told them I knew just the place.” 

“Oh, wow, thanks,” you smile and unzip the bag. 

“Hmm,” he hums as he counts out bills, “funny, they got a little thing like you carrying around all that.” 

“Mr. Odinson,” you chirp, “I’m not that small.” 

“Suppose most people are too me,” he grins and holds out the money, “keep the change.” 

You accept the bills with the pizza against your hip and the paper bag on top. You blink dumbly at the folded bills. He can’t be serious. 

“Mr. Odinson.” 

“Thor,” he purrs. 

“Thor, er, I think you miscounted.” 

“I didn’t, I have generous friends,” he shrugs, “we put in together. Now,” he reaches to take the paper bag, “allow me to relieve your burden.” 

You gulp and tuck away the money. You finish unzipping the bag and slide out the pizzas. It’s awkward as the boxes are so big. He gets closer to help and you slide them right into his hand. As you finish unsheathing them, he steps back. 

“How about you have a slice before you go?” He offers, “you have much to go?” 

“Halfway through,” you fold the empty bag against your stomach, “that’s real nice, but they time us.” 

“Oh, too bad,” he nods, “well, I suppose I’ll see you... haven’t lately. Not that I can blame you.” 

“Oh, uh, I’ve been real busy,” you say, not a complete lie. Still, you have been avoiding it. 

“Yes, you work hard. Wish I could say the same of Magni.” 

“Sorry,” you frown. 

“Sorry? For him? He’s not your responsibility. Only myself to blame, I am his father,” he sighs, “anyhow, don’t let me keep you.” 

“Thanks again,” you try to brighten up. “I’m... I’m going to talk to Magni tomorrow. It's my day off.” 

“Ah, yes, well, I hope it isn’t a waste of time,” he resigns and gives a wave. 

He stays at the door as you turn away, his words ominous as they leave an unsettling flutter in your chest. You hop down the steps and open the back door of your car. You toss the empty bag inside and close it, getting in the front.  

You shove the key in the ignition and twist. The engine rumbles but doesn’t flip. You huff and try again, leaning your weight into the effort. As the motor kick, you look up to find Thor still watching you from the porch. 

The engine turns and you sigh in relief. As you go to shift into reverse, there’s a pop, then a bag, and several more noises. The exhaust puffs one last time and the engine dies. No! No! Not now baby. We made it so far. 

You get out as black smoke plumes around the edges of the hood and you hear a shuffle from the porch. Shoot, shoot, shoot. Thor puts the pizza down on the bench and hurries down to you. As if you haven’t embarrassed yourself enough in front of him. 

“You alright?” He asks. 

“Yeah, fine,” you pout, “I’m not worried about me.” 

“Hm, may I?” He gestures to the hood. You shrug. 

He pops it open and moves the stick to prop it up. He waves away the smoke and squints through it. You cross your arms and stand back. You wouldn’t know where to begin. 

“Hmm, lucky it wasn’t a full blown fire. Fuel lines are rotten,” he says and moves out of the path of the smoke. “One finally burst.” 

“Oh,” you mope, “no...” 

“Sorry, little one, it’ll need a professional.” 

“Uh, at least... I guess the tip will help with that,” you sniff, “but... I gotta work. What am I gonna tell Karl?” 

“Karl?” He echoes curiously. 

“My manager,” you utter, “and my parents...” You look at him, “sorry, this isn’t your problem.” 

“I would gladly take it on,” he assures you, “why don’t you call Karl, tell him you’re having some difficulties, you can’t finish your shift.” 

“Urgh,” you frame your forehead in frustration, “but...” 

“I know someone who can look at the car. I’ll give him a call.” 

“Oh gee,” you huff and turn your head up, dropping your hands. “This isn’t happening.” 

“Don’t worry, little one, I will take care of it. Please, it’ll be alright.” 

You look at him again. It isn’t his responsibility and you shouldn’t let him but you don’t have much of a choice. What else are you going to do? Borrow Magni’s broken motorcycle? 

“Right, I’ll... I’ll call my boss.” 

“Please, I don’t like to see you upset,” he says, “call him then have some pizza and I’ll take you to mine. You can make up with Magni, eh? At least that’s something.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Odinson,” you give a bittersweet smile, “really, you don’t have to do all that.” 

“Ah, but why wouldn’t I?” He winks and turns away, “Bucky!” 

He stomps up the steps and pulls open the door, the pizza forgotten on the bench. He calls the same name again and you take out your phone. At least Karl is a nice guy. He’ll let you make it up once you get your car running again. 

[biteofcherry]

Happy Wetnessday 💦

You're sick and tired of dating and working so you sign up for a dating app that lets you either find a husband, a sugar daddy or both combined. Most of the people on there are old farts that you only consider for the second option if at all. But then you stumble upon him. So handsome, young and based on his profile very successful. You're wondering if he's a catfish but then he reaches out to you. He's charming on top of all his perks already. So charming that you agree on a date with him in a public location. The restaurant he invites you to is luxurious and expensive so you hope he doesn't stand you up (because let's be honest you couldn't even afford water in this place). But when you arrive he's already there, waiting for you with flowers and a smile that brightens even more when you approach. He swoops you off your feet all evening and you end up in his bed. He's not letting you leave for a few days, taking his meetings with the camera off and you warming his cock, spending his free time with fucking out your brain and taking you out for every meal to further woo you. By the end of day 3 you agree to marry him.

Which handsome man is going to be your husband?

xoxo Wetnessday anon 💦

Hi lovely Wetnessday Anon! ❤️❤️❤️ It's always so good to hear from you! Hope you're having a good day and an overall calm week.

This ask? It was an instant decision. One man with unparalleled vibe that came to mind as I read through the story.

Andy fucking Barber.

Soft, charming and charismatic. Has reached high levels of wealth, power and business position, but all he needs is a sweet wife to feel complete.

Yes, there is need for a wife for the PR side of business and social life, but most of all Andy wants someone who will bring a spark into his life. Someone genuine and caring; someone he can hold and laugh with. And argue with, because you won't fake compliance just for the sake of getting gifts and being spoiled.

Looking at your pictures on the dating app, Andy was instantly drawn to you. With the resources he has, he made sure that you are a real person and not a catfish, then boldly asked you for a date.

It wasn't only a good kind of date, but an exciting one that stirred Andy's heart from a dull slumber of routine.

He can't get enough of you: your smile and laughter, your passionate rants about topics that interest you, the way you slurp drinks, the sounds you make when he touches you, how your pussy feels around his cock.

While you're dozing off in his lap, with your face pressed into the crook of his neck; Andy's cock snug in your warm, wet cunt; he's already browsing jewelry websites. Looking for that perfect engagement ring.

[shezzabee]

Ineffable Slices of Life pt. 1

“Ah, there you are.” Aziraphale barged into the room with seemingly no consideration for the passed out demon inside. The bastard.

Said demon groaned — it might have been a plea for help or to be left alone.

“Here I am. You found me,” Crowley said, voice sleep-rough as he flipped on his back. “Gold star, angel.”

Aziraphale closed the door with a soft click, the sound seeming to echo in the quiet room.

Out of the corner of his eye, Crowley watched him as he stood there for a moment, his hand still on the doorknob, his expression a mixture of concern and curiosity. Ask me, Crowley urged silently. Ask me what I’m doing in your bed. Again.

Just when Crowley was about to tell him to sit down, Aziraphale moved towards the bed.

Crowley stilled, but he merely walked past it, and sat down on the armchair near the window.

Far enough away to be socially acceptable, the Aziraphale in his head said, but close enough for pleasant discourse.

Crowley rubbed the meat of his palm over his eyes. He must make quite the picture, splayed out on Aziraphale’s bed, limbs sprawled, his normally perfect red locks devilishly disheveled.

On a normal day, he’d show more decency around Aziraphale. He’d pull down his rucked up shirt, blink the sleep out of his eyes, take care not to leave ring stains on Aziraphale’s centuries old mahogany side-table.

None of the days lately have been normal.

“Drinking alone, I see.” Aziraphale glanced pointedly at the two empty wine bottles.

“Mn, yeah, you were busy. With Jim.” Crowley blinked, bleary-eyed, at his wristwatch. 11:40 am. Plenty of time to continue getting sloshed the rest of the day. Fan-fucking-tastic.

“That was hours ago,” Aziraphale said, frowning slightly.

“You bought him a gift.” Lot of good an exceedingly sulky nap did him, it seemed.

“Well, I thought he’d enjoy it,” Aziraphale said, all puffed up and proud.

“…What was it?” Crowley asked, because clearly he was an idiot who relished in torment.

“Ah, a beautifully bound journal. With a soft leather cover and the most exquisite, high-quality pages. I've included a rather lovely fountain pen as well, with ink that subtly shimmers with intent.”

“You wot,” Crowley turned to look at him, his lips twitched. “you miracled it?”

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. It wasn’t a proper miracle. Merely a… helpful suggestion.”

“A suggestion for an amnesiac archangel to write down his deepest and darkest thoughts?”

“That would be playing it rather fast and loose with the term ‘amnesiac’, don’t you think, dear?”

“Does he even know how to write?”

“Well, of course —”

“Not it.”

Aziraphale blinked. “Not it, what?”

“I’m not doing it. I’m not teaching bloody archangel Gabriel who may or may not be faking, how to write. You’re it.”

“No one is it, he knows how to write. I think.”

Crowley blinked at the ceiling, his silence laden with doubt.

“He knows how to read.” Aziraphale pointed out a bit tetchily. “It’s perfectly safe to assume writing is still a skill-set he possesses.”

“’S kinda hard to imagine Gabriel possessing any skills other than being a downright bast —”

“Crowley.” The tone was so chiding, it almost made Crowley want to cough up an apology. Almost.

“Are you really that troubled over it?” Aziraphale asked.

“Nah.” Crowley blinked again (he was doing an awful lot of blinking), the faint brush-strokes on the ceiling were starting to form long-forgotten shapes. Were those symbols? “If he does write something, we could read it.”

“You are incorrigible.”

“Don’t act like that wouldn’t be playing out precisely how you’d hoped.”

“I’m sure I’ve no idea what you mean,” Aziraphale countered primly.

“You might as well have sat him down and ordered him to write everything he remembers, at gunpoint.”

“I would never —!” Hand over his heart, Aziraphale managed to give him a look that was both scandalous and impish.

“Yeah, no, ‘course, a miracled fountain pen that gently coaxes its handler to write whatever comes to mind is a much more ethical approach.”

“It encourages creativity and introspection without any undue influence. Perfect for someone rediscovering themselves.”

Crowley snorted. “Leave it to you to passive-aggressively send his Holy Highness to therapy.”

“Well, sometimes we all need a bit of gentle encouragement, don’t we?”

Crowley’s eyes narrowed, then he pushed himself up on his elbows, giving Aziraphale a look of mock horror. “Therapy, angel? Are you suggesting we go all touchy-feely and introspective? What’s next, group hugs and trust falls?” He shuddered theatrically. “Honestly, you read too many books.”

“You mean to tell me your reaction to all of this has been completely reasonable?”

“Has yours? You’re harboring a fugitive archangel in your bookshop!”

“We’ve been over this. You agreed it was the right thing to do.”

Crowley flopped onto his back, fingers interlaced over his chest. Perhaps if he couldn't see Aziraphale, the fear and anger gnawing at him might stop.

“Unless you didn’t agree,” Aziraphale frowned, lips pursed in displeasure. “But then — why did you come back?”

“You know why,” Crowley suddenly felt a profound weariness, right down to his bones. “Naivety was never your colour, angel.”

The silence that followed felt stifling. Crowley lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. Those were definitely ethereal symbols up there, giving him a proper headache.

He wondered how he was supposed to wriggle out of this mess now. There was no chance he was dancing again. One indignity per century was more than enough to endure.

Finally, Aziraphale said quietly, almost shyly, “Do you want to see your present?”