“THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATRONAGE!” ♡ | mydei x reader
❥ summary: who knew your number one fan was just your hot neighbor all along?
❥ a/n: it’s been a while since i made a fic !! this idea was so random huehue ૮₍˶ ╥ ‸ ╥ ⑅₎ა i don’t think i did my best writing this :( sorry i’m not good at the english here
❥ pairing: neighbor!mydei x camgirl!reader
❥ cw: [n]sfw, modern au, mydei has piercings because i said so, panty stealing, detailed/mutual m*sterbation, mentions of reader using toys and mydei using her panties, wet fantasies, prn with plot(?), mydei is secretly a pervert and in love but he won’t admit it
the landlady was knocking on your neighbor’s door again
when you say again, you mean the fourth time this month, her sharp raps against the wood reverberating through the hall at ten in the morning like a judge’s gavel. mornings were meant to be a gentle strum of a string: steeped in slow ritual of coffee steam and perhaps a hum of a familiar favored podcast playing in the back, a sanctuary carved in silence and toast crumbs.
but instead, they offer this through your walls: the echo of obligation, of warnings unheeded, cracking through plaster and bone.
the reason? well, thanks to your attuned ears, ones that were practically made for eavesdropping; you already knew. your neighbor, mydei, hadn’t paid his rent in weeks. two weeks overdue, his debt now creeping into a third like mold along the edges of a forgotten room.
to put it plainly, the flat you were living in cost 5k credits a month. a bargain, really, if honesty still held weight in this city. for that price, you had enough space to breathe, complete with a bedroom where the walls didn’t press in, a kitchen that still remembered its warmth, a bathroom (despite a few cracks here and there that you had yet to fix), and even a balcony where twilight could quietly take you apart and unwind. the landlady was sweet, too (well…on certain days and on certain moods). after all, sweetness here often came laced with sharpness.
the place far surpassed the sterile tomb apartments you saw online, ones that charged 10k credits monthly that bought you grey walls and flickering lights, utilities not included. yet unlike those, this place was just right.
imperfect, yes, but real. and in a city that seemed built to forget you, real was everything.
yet unfortunately for mydei, not a single credit had been paid. not one. and even the ever-patient landlady had finally run out of goodwill.
curiosity, ever the traitor, got the better of you. with subtle steps, you crept to the door and peered through the narrow slit, just enough to catch a glimpse without being caught in return through the silver lines.
there he was. mydei. leaning against the frame like he belonged to it, like the peeling paint and tired wood welcomed him, making yet another excuse. he was wearing nothing but a black tank top and some slacks that didn’t help cover up most of his muscular body with carved crimson tattoos. he probably posed just enough to give you something to chew on later in silence and something for your eyes to feast on. his voice didn’t waver, not once. calm as still water on the verge of boiling. he swore the payment would come by the week’s end. he swore.
and yet you’ve heard that vow before. and still, here he stood.
one thing you had come to realize about mydei is that he wasn’t impractical or rash, despite the storm his face often carried. sure, his blunt complaints about the noise from your flat often came off as curt, and he wasn’t exactly sociable.
he wasn’t in often for small talk, nor did he linger in hallways or smile just to fill the silence. yet he was the same man you’d watched feeding stray cats, who knelt down to speak to a lost child until tears became laughter, someone who’d offer you freshly baked cookies because he “made too much” (honestly, it didn’t strike you that he was the type to be amazing at baking), the one carrying your laundry without a word towards the laundromat when your hands were full, and fixed the rattle in your broken heater after weeks of complaints. not to mention, he’s also the man who often brings a friend over (a man named phainon, complete contrast to your neighbour).
to you, he was a contradiction wrapped in quiet. silence wasn’t always cold, just reserved. his mystery wasn’t just alluring, it was consuming. with his blond hair, those golden eyes that held a weight you couldn’t decipher, the piercings he wore.
you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t utterly, sinfully fuckable.
once the landlady left his doorstep, her parting words clipped with finality like a snap of a closing ledger, you waited, counting each fading step until silence reclaimed the hallway. only then did you ease your door open, cautious, curious. mydei stood there like a guilty child, shoulders slumped, head tilted slight back against the doorframe as if the weight of the world leaned a little too hard on him. he looked exhausted (which, annoyingly, made him even hotter.)
“something happened?” you asked him, feigning nonchalance. a pointless question, really. it was clear you already knew the answer. but silence was a door you weren’t ready to let close just yet.
his head turned toward you so sharply you nearly flinched. his gaze was piercing, unwavering. like a lion’s, you thought to yourself. coiled power behind stillness. a silence that didn’t mean absent, but restraint.
and gods, it made it hard to breathe.
mydei scoffs, sound low and dismissive. “it’s nothing you should concern yourself with,” he deadpans, arms hanging loosely at his sides. his expression remained impassive. no wonder some of the elderly neighbors downstairs had taken to calling him ‘stoneface of door b14,’ it was a nickname born of observation, of the way he carried the unflinching calm, a fortress of silence. you were door b15, just close enough to feel it.
in reply, you nodded, offering him a practiced, polite smile. something that fit well on a face that's trying not to intrude. it wasn't like you expected him to confide about the matter. people like him rarely did. but still, something in you prodded forward, curious yet gentle. you tilted your head, voice soft.
“was it the landlady again?”
the flicker of surprise that crossed his face was brief, but you caught it, an admission without words. with a quiet sigh, he finally nodded. but with such an obvious lie, there was no way he’d be able to brush this off so easily.
“is it that obvious? like i said, it’s nothing too serious,” mydei stubbornly responds, his gaze flickering away from yours, deliberately avoiding eye contact and glaring elsewhere. a brief pause followed. his jaw tensed, his chest rising with a quiet exhale, before he finally added, his voice a little brittle at the edges, “i just need to pay my rent by the end of the week, that's all. nothing dramatic, nothing to lose sleep over either.”
as far as you knew, mydei had a stable job, as every adult does, something just to keep the lights on and the money coming and flooding. you weren’t exactly sure what he did, but he worked. or at least, he used to—who were you to assume? lately, the silence where the payments should've been was starting to speak volumes, not that you ever bothered to ask, not like it was any of your business.
it didn’t take mydei long to seize the reins again, voice smooth as silk over steel as he pivoted the conversation. at least it saved you time from thinking of another thing to say.
“anyways,” he continues, brushing past the tension like dust from his sleeve, “i'd rather shelve the subject. she'll start hounding me about it soon enough, and frankly, i've had my fill.” your neighbour tilted his head, eyes narrowing just slightly in that way he did when reading between your silences. “is there something you’ve been meaning to say?”
"it's a question. you got your head poked out the door, and talking with me after the landlady left. so...what is it? is there something you want to tell me?"
you couldn't just say it. as if you could admit you'd hovered just beyond the threshold, half-shadowed between the cracks of the door. that you have been staring at him the entire time and listening in. shameless, really. it already looked bad, you don't need to hand him the rest of the truth, wrapped up in embarrassment like a gift no one asked for. instead, you forced out a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of your neck as your lips twitched into a smile.
“oh! well, i just, uhh…i was wondering if you were heading to the laundromat today. you know, i got clothes that need…ehm, washing,” was what you told him, trying to find a reasonable excuse.
a weak attempt. you knew it. he knew it.
actually, the word “reasonable” wasn’t the right word, it didn’t belong anywhere near that sentence. it was already bullshit, through and through. after all, you and mydei only headed to the laundromat on fridays. it was a tuesday. how clever.
still, it seemed like mydei hesitated to press the issue further. his only response was a quiet scoff, a sharp exhale through his nose, as if brushing off the conversation entirely. if you didn’t pride yourself on maintaining at least some level of politeness, you might’ve rolled your eyes at him.
“not today,” he finally replies, arms crossing over his chest. “but if you need help with anything, i’m more than happy to lend a hand.”
his tone was casual, almost indifferent. but, there was a certain weight behind the offer. not forced, not out of obligation. just…a simple statement, like he didn’t mind. which would’ve been great if you actually needed help. however, the laundromat was nothing more than a last-minute excuse to hide the fact that you were, unfortunately, eavesdropping next door. you smiled, waving him off.
“ah—no, no, it’s fine. we’ll just go in friday then. the usual.”
mydei remained motionless, expression carved from the same stone that had earned him his nickname, almost as if he was waiting for another word from that mouth of yours to finish talking. yet none came, only silence rose between the both of you. and then, at last, he nodded. slow yet reluctant.
“alright. but if there’s anything you need help with, don’t hesitate to knock. see you.”
just like that. as if your heart didn’t caught between your throat. mydei retreated back in his apartment complex, the soft click of the lock behind him sounding far louder than it should have. a sigh of relief exhales between your breath, before you too withdrew back inside.
mydei was never someone you’d call a conversationalist. his words were few, but they carried weight like stones dropped into still water. it wasn’t that he chose silence to irritate you; no, that wasn’t it. if anything, it only made you more curious. there was something magnetic in that quiet, something that pulled you in despite the warning signs. for someone so terrifying at first glance, he was beautiful in a way that didn’t make sense. the kind of face you’d expect on the cover of a magazine, not leaning against peeling hallway walls, murmuring excuses like salary for late rent.
while your devastatingly attractive neighbour did have rent troubles, on the other hand, you’re doing quite well for yourself. in fact, you were earning nearly twice as much these days. last night’s stream alone had been a runway success unlike the few weeks of starting. the viewers and old regulars came in like dogs hearing car keys jingle, all throwing credits and nasty confessions, desperate to be seen and to be wanted.
your earnings as a camgirl was nothing beyond the ordinary. at least, not to you, but the numbers speak for themselves. smooth lighting, silk sheets, practiced smiles, and a strategically timed wink had the chats wrapped around your finger in seconds, not to mention using the toys you received from them, just enough to keep their eyes glued on the screen. others might think seduction is just the tool for these, but for you it’d be control.
though being a camgirl wasn’t exactly something you’d proudly announce at a dinner party, it paid the bills and paid them on time. which, frankly, counted for more than pride these days. not that you were calling mydei out, but still…there was a quiet kind of satisfaction in knowing you didn’t have to make promises at the door before ten in the morning. that your rent didn’t come with excuses or second chances.
the familiar ding of your cellphone greets you from your bed the moment as you entered your bedroom, its vibrations rattling against the messy sheets. habit had turned your life into a series of scheduled alarms and timers, an instinct born back in college, one you hadn’t quite outgrown, even if your current profession had strayed miles away from the degree you once chased. with a swipe, your lock screen vanished, revealing the usual flood:
more client payments trickling in, schedule reminders, texts from friends, random forgettable mail from your sponsors….speaking of which, you’d have to update your twitter, let your followers start their morning with you popping in their feed. you let out a sigh.
without hesitation, you rushed to the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind you as instinct took over. you’d done this routine enough times that your body moved before your thoughts could catch up. a brush through your hair, swift and practiced. a dab of concealer beneath tired eyes. an eyelash curler pressed against your lashes just enough to lift, to soften, to suggest you hadn’t spent the entire night blinking at a screen.
not like anyone would notice the effort. but still, it was part of the illusion.
you slipped into your room again and reached for a hoodie hanging from the edge of your closet door. it was oversized, worn-in, and just long enough to brush against your thighs. safe. familiar. and effortlessly inviting to any guy. after that, you rushed to the tall mirror sitting just right at the edge of your bed and sat there, thinking of a pose.
something cute? a peace sign, maybe? too boring. maybe just a normal mirror selfie? that one’s bland, too. but then again, your followers would still worship you on anything you posted. with a soft groan, you adjusted your hoodie, just enough for the fabric to slide down your shoulders and expose your bra lace. you’d also taken the opportunity to kick off your pajama pants, leaving yourself in kitty-patterned panties.
originally you were planning to change into your baby-pink lace panties for the shot, but lately, you haven’t seen those pairs around. you even asked the laundromat you always went if they’ve seen it, but they don’t recall seeing anything.
but it wasn’t like it mattered, for now, you were focusing on posting something for the media, baby-pink lace or not. with a pose now chosen, one with you leaning on your arm, thighs pressed with faux need, camera on your face pointing towards your reflection in the mirror, and your hair just beautifully sliding towards the side your head was tilting. with a squinted eye smile, the camera clicks. once, twice, thrice, all with different positions and angles.
no matter what anyone said, capturing the perfect shot was never easy. you sifted through all twelve takes, each slightly flawed in its own quiet way, before settling on the best of the bunch. with a soft exhale, your fingers clicked the words on your phone:
“good morning to my sweetest sinners. still glowing from last night’s stream, you guys really know how to make a girl feel wanted <3”
as expected, barely a second passed before your thumb even grazed the post button, and already, a notification popped up: someone had liked your photo. then three likes, and then five. it was no surprise they’d come by fast, that’s what a hundred-thousand followers would bring you. however, the first liker…
@user314d8ei has liked your post
it was the same one. that username again. you’ve been seeing it for a while now, not just under your social media likes, but lingering in the views of your streams, always one of the first to show up, always quiet, always watching. no comments, just a large amount of tips and their presence.
in your head, this person must be one of those creeps behind the screen. probably one of those cliches in stalker movies where they’d sit in the dark, face lit only by their monitor, heavy breathing and whatnot as if they could be able to reach you personally from the screen. but then came the credits; generous ones, 7,000 to 10,000 credits at a time.
week after week. you’d expect this person to at least ask for a private call if they had this amount of money on them, however it was the opposite. no fanfare, no demands, no private call requests, nor any voice chat expectations. none of the usuals that your regulars would ask for. just silence and money.
not that you were complaining. between a quiet, loaded lurker and someone breaking into your place to steal your underwear, you’d take the former any day. at least they respected your space, you much appreciated your privacy. with a long, indulgent stretch and a lazy brush of your fingers through your hair, you decided it was best to make the most of your morning before the night took hold. unfortunately, tonight’s schedule loomed ahead like clockwork. another stream, same time as always: 10PM to midnight. like a routine. like a ritual. you’d only ever get rest days in weekends and fridays.
your mind was running laps trying to pick the perfect lingerie set for tonight’s stream, something that struck the right balance between sultry and soft, eye-catching but not overdone. but as one half of your brain debated between lace or silk, the other was busy thinking where in the world did those baby-pink lace panties actually go.
@ moonlightmuse just posted a photo!
mydei wouldn’t really call it “obsession.”
the word felt vulgar in his mouth, crude in a way that flattened the nuance of what this truly was. obsession is something that gripped lesser men by the throat and dragged them to delirium. he was not a slave to impulse, and he was not so small. he hadn’t surrendered his life to one thing; no, he had simply aligned it. there was a difference.
a man may chase after a mirage in the desert and die of thirst, but mydei had mapped the terrain, studied the horizon, and walked with purpose, not delusion.
you were a lovely neighbour, to say the least. warm in a way that didn’t feel overbearing, always greeting others with a smile, and never the type to indulge in meaningless gossip (unlike those old ladies from the corner who shared stories with coffee like it’s their daily newspaper). you also had your charm, undeniably so. and as much mydei tried his best not to stare, he couldn’t help but notice how you moved through life with quiet grace, barefoot on your balcony with the wind kissing your hair back, and the sleeve of your shirt that loved to slide down your shoulder like it belonged there.
not that he’d ever admit it out loud, but there were times where he thought you were someone else. something radiant, someone kind…
someone worth ruining the distance for.
he’s seen you. the bare you. the one bathed in the soft glow of your screen, smile caught between performance and something else, something real. he didn’t mean to see you in such a state, in a state where you were stripped off of fabric and pretense.
but a man needs his time to search for a release, just another moment of faceless pleasure in the solitude of the night. he had only meant to watch something else, some cheap porno from a generic website, he didn’t mean to land in your stream all because you “looked oddly familiar.” and curiosity—no, recognition got the better of him.
just a glimpse, he thought. just to confirm it wasn’t you, but it was you. the you who was shamelessly talking through the various clients on chat, the you who was enjoying teasing the camera with the pat of your dripping clit in front of the camera, the you who energetically moaned through the sheets of your bed while sliding a glass dildo in and out of your throbbing pussy while pleading for more. the you who made his own hand jerk fast on his dick to your rhythm.
that moment lingered like the warmth of a match after a flame died. he had not been struck by revulsion, not by moral disdain, but by awe, and something dangerously close to longing.
you can say he was enamoured, a cruelly elegant thing to be. not the wild burn of infatuation. it was a slow fever humming in his veins, whispering at the back of his mind whenever he passed through your door, whenever he heard you laugh through the walls. it was the ache of admiration dressed as restraint.
he told himself he wasn’t obsessed. he was just…caught. but it wasn’t like he tried to pull away ever since.
the photo you posted that morning…it was difficult to keep his hands to himself, especially he was just talking to you by his door minute ago.
it was probably the way the sleeves of that hoodie slid down your right shoulder–exposing your bare skin to view. or maybe it was the soft way that pink looked mesmerising on you, as if the color had been made for your skin. or perhaps the way your arms subtly lifted your breasts, creating a delicate line of shadow and curve, didn’t help either. and your hair… it fell just right, like it had been styled by accident but framed your face too perfectly to be unintentional.
he hadn’t realized how long he’s been staring. mydei knew he had better things to do after this, the day just started and he’s already here thinking to fist his cock at 10am. he’ll have to go out, try to get some groceries for his stock, and maybe do a couple of exercises.
the day just started…it just did. it was all supposed to be a one-time thing, a passing moment, a slip. but here he was again. staring, wanting, cursing himself.
gods, what kind of power did you laid over him?
by the time nighttime already crept in, he already knew his cue.
your work hours usually begin around 10pm, from monday to thursdays. mydei already had no obligations left by then; his shift typically ended around 8pm, and tonight, as luck would have it, was his rest day. he’s already showered, eaten, and settled the mundane. everything was quiet and ready. all that remained was to reach for his laptop.
mydei wasn’t even sure why the hell he did all of this just to watch a fucking stream (correction, a “fucking” type of fucking stream) it pissed him off sometimes. pissed him off how he’d waste a perfectly good evening prepping like it meant something. he could’ve slept early, could’ve set his alarm, gone for a jog at dawn like a functioning human being.
he was here dragging out the hours just to sit in the dark and wait for you to go live.
there were faint, uneven bumps echoing through the walls, subtle little knocks that told him you were moving quickly, likely to get ready. the time blinked back at him: 9:59pm.
just one more minute. he had one more minute to shut the site down, close the tab, fold the laptop, and reclaim whatever was left of his self-control. his fingers flexed, curling around the edge of the screen like he was able to close it this time.
he’s already come this far, what was the point of pulling back now, when indulgence had carried him this close to the edge?
his screen flickered as the loading tab began to spin, that familiar circle marking the beginning of something he told himself he wouldn’t watch again. the signal was clear: you were now on live. his breath hitched.
he was sure tonight would carry a new theme, like it always did. you never repeated sets, it was always something different, something fresh, something to surprise your viewers who waited with baited breaths. but what you wore tonight was unlike anything he’d seen before the moment your presence entered his screen.
mydei wasn’t even sure if he could call whatever the fuck that was a “piece of clothing”. you’d done bunny themes before, around three times. hell, the playboy look was practically a staple in the camgirl world other than being bare naked. but this? perhaps even someone like mydei can have his breath kicked out from his throat if he continues to stick his gaze for too long.
there was barely anything left to the imagination.
two satin pink ribbons extended delicately from your white collar, drawn taut over your breasts to cover only both of your nipples like that all it mattered, like a present waiting to be unwrapped. matching bows perched above your hips, leading the eye to the adorable garter straps clinging to your thighs, thin and inviting against skin that glowed under the screen.
a pair of white bunny ears sat crooked on your head, too natural to seem like a prop, like they belonged there. just above the curve of your back, nestled where your spine dipped, was that white puff of a tail mocking in its placement, drawing the gaze down to where the fabric gave up trying to hide anything. around your wrists were two delicate cuffs, silky and white, completing the illusion of some fantasy-bunny house pet plucked from someone’s wet dream.
shit, you were practically wearing fucking strings at that point, only the ribbons added purity and cover to yourself.
it was elegance wrapped in sin, and mydei had no idea where to rest his eyes. it’s almost ridiculous how something so playful could be so devastating for his pants.
he watches as you adjust the camera, the lens tilting ever so slightly, just close enough for the viewer to catch the perfect soft valley between your breasts. mydei hears you hum a small tune underneath your breath, light and airy, like a background music to your own ritual, like you knew exactly what you’re doing. your doe eyes were staring straight at the screen (yet mydei feels like your gaze was on him) as the perfect angle of the camera was adjusted.
you smiled, and mydei felt like he choked on his own breath.
“there we go..” your voice dipped through the speaker of his laptop like honey, smooth and warm, as if it were curling in his ears that was meant for him and him alone. he swore it wasn’t the first time it felt like that.
with a soft bounce, your figure finally pulled back from the camera. the mattress dipped under you as you sat on the velvet plush cushions of your bed, adjusting your bunny ears and brushing a strand of your hair back. the playboy bunny theme was childish on paper, but the way you wore it? a cruel kind of tease.
his dick was already hardening and this show hasn’t even started yet.
mydei's hands didn’t hesitate. his fingers moved on instinct, like a muscle memory clicking the mouse with quiet urgency. the stream pulled up into full screen, engulfing his laptop in you and only you. the glow from the screen bathed the room in soft purple and blue. he leans in slightly, hands gripping his own mouth along with his chin, pupils dark and fixated, the cheap plastic of the mouse still warmed beneath his other free hand.
he waited for your usual greeting of the usual routine fanfare, the flying kisses, practiced smiles and pure laugh before all falls to filth. it was one he grew accustomed to, a performance he both revered and resented himself for craving.
but tonight felt different. maybe it was the way your gaze lingered just a bit too long at the lens. or the way your tone shifted, soft, almost knowing
mydei almost jumps when he hears you talk, not directly to the chats that were yet to appear on the screen…but to him.
“user314…d8ei. you’re first in my livestream again.”
the sound of your voice wrapped around in the alias like it was sacred made his heart almost burst out of his chest. his real name was safe, but even hearing that username from your mouth was dangerous.
come to think of it now…he was still the only one in the livestream’s chatroom. odd.
you weren’t some viral sensation, but you had your own corner of the internet carved out and tight-knit fan clubs who are dedicated regulars that also fawn at your every post, every breath, just like he did. loyal viewers who never missed a stream, who filled the chat with hearts, cumming emojis, and unfiltered thirst the second you went live.
the emptiness pricked at the back of his neck. mydei was starting to wonder if he arrived too early. great…now you would’ve mistaken him as some sort of creep. the type who logs in before the show really began, sitting in silence like he had nothing better to do, like he was waiting for you.
anyways, it would be bad if he left you there sitting in silence after the callout. it’s better if he just clicked on a sticker and—
“actually you’re always the first one to arrive. i’ve noticed, it’s flattering you’re always on time.”
his hands froze before he could move his mouse, fingers twitching like they forgot how a mouse even worked. a bead of sweat meandered down the back of his neck like his body betrayed the calmness he was trying to wear.
you noticed. you noticed. of course you did. of course you had to say something nice to kill the time of waiting for more viewers to come in. now his brain was a jammed signal of “fuck, she noticed?” and “oh my god, stop fucking sweating.” the worst part is that he kind of liked the attention. that tiny offhand compliment? it folded itself into his ribs and bloomed there. but mydei wasn’t one to spiral over something so small, not on the outside, anyway. instead, he clicked on one of your bunny stickers, the one with crossed arms and averted eyes, just to play it cool even when he was a stammering machine inside.
he watches as you tuck your fingers through your hair, the other adjusting the delicate arc of your bunny ears. then came the smile that follows, the kind that shouldn’t have done something special but somehow cracked through him. it shouldn’t have done anything. but it did. it did too much. mydei knew you were amused, it can be easily told with the way your finger played with the small curled ends of your hair. and what made it even worse—no, better, was when you chuckled softly in response, like you knew exactly what his reactions were behind the screen.
and just as the moment started to bloom into something he stupidly convinced was theirs, more users poured into the stream.
the chat lit up with heart stickers, squealing messages of how they “couldn’t wait,” some were already spamming cumming emojis as reactions for her outfit (he couldn’t really blame them). mydei let out a quiet grunt, his screen cluttered with usernames, hearts, and gifts blinking like cheap confetti. the moment was gone. he shifted in his seat uncomfortably.
of course it had to be gone.
nonetheless, it wasn’t like mydei could complain—should complain when he was never your only fan to begin with. still…the thought of being the only one in your spotlight, the only one your eyes would linger on, the only one to hear your laugh meant for no one else? it made something coil tightly in his chest. it was pathetic for him, but he still fell for whatever bait you laid out.
a soft, breathy sigh slipped from your lips as you leaned back, arms propping you up casually. it wasn’t a sigh of exhaustion, it was just a sound. and that alone reeled him in like a line hooked to his lungs. “It’s been a long day. i was so tired from doing chores. but even so, that didn’t stop me from cancelling a stream for you guys…”
the chat, of course, had already turned rabid. requests poured in with the clatter of credits behind them, one after another like hungry beasts tossing meat to a starved idol. you eyed them calmly, eyes flicking across the wave of messages, and then you laughed.
“you guys,” you said with a teasing little scoff, tugging playfully at the thin pink strings across your chest while also playing with the bows that helped cover your nipples, “i haven’t even gotten to properly greet you yet. why are you already spamming requests?”
your fingers continued to toy with the ribbons, skin catching light like silk, and when you pushed a stray lock of hair behind your ear with a smile, your gaze skimmed the chat, all those filthy, eager messages, and he sat still like prey. the kind that wanted to be hunted.
he watches intently as your body stretches, legs pulled up onto the bed before they slowly spread wide enough for the camera’s view. mydei’s breath hitches when the damp fabric of the thin strap between your legs was almost swallowed by your pussy, revealing just enough of your wet skin to tease further. the chats explode with vulgar hunger, but mydei was too busy being hypnotized by the sight, mouth slowly agape.
you gently rub a single finger down between your clothed slit, and he holds onto his hardened boner through his pants.
another sigh escapes your lips, feeling a light bolt run down your skin upon contact between your legs, like a witty touch helping you build friction to ease the heat. mydei watches the entire time, palming through pants as if his own balls might fall from how he was beginning to grow more hard with each subtle movement. you sunk your bottom lip between your teeth, hips slowly gyrating up onto the touch of your own fingers stroking the small bud you caught beneath your panties. mydei follows your hand movements, kneading the bulge through his heavy cock, just imagining how far this show could go, just how much surprises you hold like the goddamn daydream you are.
its fucked up, really. jerking off to a performance of his own neighbor next door as if he never walked by your door every morning to head off for work. like you never were the one to greet him every morning when you went out for a morning jog like he does with a smile so radiant he almost fell on his own two knees. right now, he couldn’t think about what might happen if one day you found out he knew about your secret reputation online all along. for now, none of it mattered. what mattered was that he’s letting all stress down his cock like a machine ready to be shut down.
you continued to knead your own core, fingers rubbing in circles to gather more friction and slick that threatened to seep through your own fabric, eyes scanning the comments that flowed continuously. mydei moved along with your rhythm, breathing slowly as small grunts escaped his chest. fuck, he’s probably steel-hard already, the belt was already starting to annoy him for being in the way like his dick needed to breathe. he leans back against his chair, hands fumbling on the hard strap of his belt before slipping them off and throwing them off somewhere in his room where he’d give a shit about an hour later.
@ want_to_cum_in_u: [donated 3,000 credits!] push the panties aside baby wanna see ur pussy
@ want_to_cum_in_u: [added a 50 credit tip!]
somehow, mydei couldn’t decide whether he should be pissed or thankful for whoever that guy was. on one hand, the message had pushed you to speak, to smile like a woman of radiance. but on the other, it was a cold slap of reality. a reminder that this show, this moment, this version of you wasn’t just for him. you were sweet to everyone, of course you were; effortless in the way you charmed a crowd. but watching those random usernames flood your chat with “baby” and “mine tonight?” stirred something sour in his chest.
it took so much self-control not to click on that guy’s profile and personally send him a message, perhaps something biting.
who the fuck even are you to call her that?
but he let it off for now, still focused on watching you pinch and brush your over your clit like you were soothing the skin. the camera focuses on your wetness seeping over your fingers like mush, collecting the small substances that start to weep. with the donation catching your attention, mydei sees you smile, still biting over your lip. “aw, thank you for the donation…i-i’m already getting wet. are you guys still watching me?”
mydei wasn’t sure if it was all the pent-up frustration for the goddamn rent bill or how easy you are with the shitbags that donated you money online, but right now he doesn’t care. the way you were eyeing the camera with glassy eyes was making him want to head over your apartment and take you there, live in front of your audience. he groans softly at your stammer, frustrated as he pulls both his pants and boxers down with ease with one hand, the other having a tight grip over his table until his angry cock sprang free from the fabrics.
his eyes averted back to the screen, just in time to see your legs hoisted up in the air, soft hands running down your waist to grab hold of the satin bows the perched over your hips before you pushed the strap aside, so torturously slow that it was obvious you were doing this on purpose with enough wit to make a man of hunger lose his mind.
with your thin cloth out of the way, your bare pussy was exposed to everyone on camera–pink, raw, and drooling with greedy need. soft fingers crawl down to pat over your folds, earning a soft whimper slip past your lips before scissoring them open, just enough for eyes to take a good look over your cavern hole that is deprived of friction. the chats spammed more donations, money coming from left to right while others were responding with paid stickers.
mydei’s breath shakes, palm grabbing around the base of his cock as if he was ready to choke it. golden eyes fixated on his screen like a man possessed. “f-fuck...” he breathes, stammering on his own breath. he was so fucking hard.
the sight of your gummy pussy being exposed like an offering for his eyes was paradise. no matter how many times he’s seen your bare and wide with your legs all open to an audience, he never gets tired of the view, the view of you being an absolute whore.
he hates to admit—but he’s fantasized about it before. a lot. with all the little roleplays you did, those flimsy costumes you flashed on camera, mydei has always thought of coming home with you wearing nothing but an apron, cloth moved just enough to see the heavy plump of your breasts. then just like right now, he’d walk in on you moaning his name, fingers helplessly rubbing down your clit while taking a whiff on the pillow with his scent, and maybe he’d just take his time with you right there, make you cry on his cock until you’re reduced to nothing but a blubbering mess drowning in ecstasy.
motherfucker...the thoughts were just making it worse.
he wondered what your pussy would taste like. would it be like a slick of honey that fell between the tips of his fingers? summer air thick like a forbidden fruit? not quite salt or sin, just the ache of want driving down directly to his cock.
mydei’s hands finally began to move, fingers clutching around his twitchy length as it creates the friction he was longing for with each slide. his thumb smeared the pre-cum over the head, making his breath hitch and body shiver from the electric waves of pleasure running down towards him.
the male’s eyes were on fire as he watched you over the screen. you were already a moaning mess on the other side, teeth biting on your palm to muffle the volume of your mewls. alas, if only you knew there was no need to do such, mydei would’ve wished you to be much more louder than this.
your fingers needily toy with your core, rubbing the slick in circles while trying to catch the sensitive nub between your fingers. with a short stutter of your legs, your head softly rolls back, a whimper escaping your lips. more and more money popped in your screen, requests flooding all over the screen that it was difficult to grab your attention. mydei feels his cock throb.
with a quick pause, he freed his grip for a moment to spit on his palm before resuming his work. using his hand, he lubed his dick up and down, making sure to tease the angry tip. he grunts, adam’s apple bobbing down his throat as he grits his teeth with a shudder. he was trying his absolute best not to buck his hips into his hand, yet the restraint around his wrists were thin.
he curses, a sound swallowed by the hum of his own blood. can’t you see what you’re doing to him? he was never like this before you came and lived next door. the way you bend him with just a glance, a bite of your bottom lip, like gravity itself shifted and he was helplessly falling into you. mydei was burning on his seat as his eyes never left your figure on the screen, unravelling, cursing at his own dilemma.
the line between admiration and obsession blurred until it was nothing but a haze of what he couldn’t name. maybe it was just the sight of you crawling in his veins? who knows?
right now, he could barely give a shit. not when you were finally fucking yourself on your fingers, your other hand teasing the viewers with your tits as you buck against your own hand. mydei leans back against his chair, closing his eyes.
in another state of mind, he’s not in his room, he’s not jerking it in front of his laptop to his neighbour who was literally streaming on the other side. at the back of his mind, you were sucking him off, in the same way your cheeks hollow when locking your lips between those dildos. he imagines you were the one stroking his cock, tongue leaving a long stripe under his base while the other played with his balls.
fuck. how many times has he cursed the word ‘fuck’ by now?
over the screen, you gasped, and mydei instantly bucked his hips against his palm, eyes cracking open to see you already tweaking one of your nipples through the ribbon.
mydei’s hands never fell to a halt. instead, he uses his free one to pull open the drawer, mindlessly searching for a certain pink fabric before pulling the item out.
he swore to his entire life that he never intended to steal your panties like some depraved creep. the laundromat owner, who wasn't blessed with the most clear eyes, made the mistake of placing it over to his side rather than yours. an awful mix-up, truly.
did he ever think of giving it back to you? hmm…the thought of dying of sheer humiliation would be far crueler than any death. you wouldn’t want him to be thought of that way, would you?
his golden gaze fell towards the lace, eyeing the fabric as though it was something that mocked him. perhaps it was the weight of guilt, or perhaps it was the quiet terror of you finding out that beneath the stone face and curt replies, he wasn’t as stoic as you think he was.
but then again, maybe it wasn’t so different. he would’ve sworn you were just a kind, ordinary neighbour, yet behind that same door that was literally just next to his, you weren’t so innocent yourself…
exposing yourself like this online, letting those fucking creeps behind the screens watch you with lustful eyes, spreading your legs for them in exchange for cash and being a slut on camera….he slaps himself for not knowing this soon. maybe it’s perhaps he’s one of those fucking creeps jerking off to you behind the screen.
mydei wraps your lace panties around his cock, letting out a breathy sigh once the fabric met with his sensitive skin. his head relaxes, leaning back on the chair before staring back over at his screen, his hand stroking softly over his shaft with your panties.
@ muselover: [donated 7,000 credits!] use the glass dildo again pls
@ user_x1v3: [donated 5,000 credits!] twist ur nipples
mydei’s nostrils flared just by looking at the flood of requests raining down your stream. but whoever was muselover, thank the fucking stars for his request.
his jaw tightens, a bitter breath slipping past his lips as his own pace on his cock fastens by watching you laugh, fingers still on your own clit. it was a shame he couldn’t throw in any spare credits of his own. if rent didn’t exist, he would’ve gladly poured every last one down your drain just to hear you say his name.
your fingers brush a strand of your hair behind your ear, smiling like you always did before reaching over the left side of your bed to pull what seems to be lubricant, alongside the glass dildo that the user was waiting for. mydei tightens himself against his seat, breath hitching while his thumb brushes against the flaring tip of his dick through your lace panties. he spreads his thick thighs wider, letting his sacks breathe.
“thank you for the donations,” you purred, sending the screen a flying kiss. “don’t forget, i’ll probably be taking a break starting next week, so tune in until the end, okay?”
yeah, he knows why. if he recalls, you were heading off somewhere to visit your parents back at your hometown. but mydei bets they didn’t know about that, because he knows you better than all of your patrons combined.
now he’s just being cocky about it. this isn’t like him.
squeezing the lubricant on your hand, mydei watches with keen eyes as you begin to coat the glass dildo with the bottle’s slick, slowly and teasingly over the screen with your eyes watching their reactions. and boy, did that work…it always does.
his hand pumps harder on his aching cock, copying your pace as if that glass dildo was his own. your lace panties slide up and down on his base, adding more friction and tension against his muscles.
(gods, he wants to you ruin your for anyone else)
he keeps imagining you were here, between his legs, your hand, instead of his, stroking him, coating his own cock with your saliva while you also prep yourself—teasing him while he sits restless on the chair, and taking him so deep down your throat. he groans at the thought, jerking up to his own touch.
(why couldn’t he just ask you out?)
the moment you finished applying the lube over the dildo, you took a quick pause as your turned around the camera, ass facing his screen before spreading them open, the lube sliding all across your skin as it glistened against the light in your room.
(would it be so selfish to fuck you in front of everyone in your stream?)
his heart races, hand fisting down on his cock more faster than before. he could feel his own slick already soaking your lace panties around him, making it much more easier to fasten the pace.
slowly, you tease your folds down on the tip of the glass dildo. mydei lets out a choked grunt, eyes instantly closing for a split second, pre-cum glossing the entire base, as well as slapping right against his pecks.
god, fuck, he’s so fucking hard, his dick was practically twitching and itching. so hard that it actually hurts if he doesn’t bust now..
finally, you slowly slid down on the toy, letting out a choked moan as he watches your pussy envelope around its size, your pink walls reflecting over the transparent glass.
mydei swore he almost came right there, even more when you let out a loud moan that he hears it through your shared wall.
he sees you cover your mouth with your hand, smiling over the camera before biting your lip. “close one….i-i can’t let my neighbour hear me..”
fuck being quiet, if he could tell you right now you could be as loud as you want—he would. his fists continue to violate his own shaft, free hand gripping onto the arms of his gaming chair as his eyes are absorbed onto your glistening figure.
“shit..” he hisses, cheeks flushed and eyes hazy as they moved from the screen down to his own hardened rod, veins popping from a mount of desperation. the sound of his own slick was obscene, matching the loudness of your voice.
he absolutely lost his own pace the moment you started lifting your hips all the way to the tip of the transparent toy. there was evident desperation in the way you teased yourself, folds grinding softly on the tip as your hand played with your own tits—rubbing your perky nipple between your forefinger and thumb as requested.
mydei loved your eyes. whether it may be just the color when you gaze right at his yellow hues, or when your pupils darken in a moment of bliss, immediately moulding into hearts. either way, he’s hypnotized like a clock in front of him, moving side to side.
your body arches, showing the camera your gummy pussy sliding against the dildo’s tip. mydei copies just that, his own fingers teasing the angry mushroom tip of his dick. your lace panties add just the perfect touch to it.
he parts his legs wider, giving himself more room to jerk off more vigorously. mydei groans, balls tightening with each stroke. his muscles heaves, glossing his chest with sweat across his red tattoos. god, if you were only here to lick them off his chest, he would’ve enjoyed the view as much as he enjoyed watching you touch yourself.
he sounded so pathetic right now. this isn’t like him, not like him at all. what kind of spell did you cast around him? definitely something that made his dick hard whenever you’re around.
he curses the moment you finally slide down the dildo, pussy lips parting widely to accommodate the size of the toy.
a static shiver coursed through mydei’s veins the moment your eyes rolled back, a sharp rush that struck him somewhere between raw and ruin. a light gasp escapes past your lips, your own fingers parting your entrance open to fit more of the toy inside of you, chest heaving up and down before the soft plush of your lips is bitten down between your teeth.
mydei slumps forward, panting softly with his other hand right next to the tissue box.
he should be feeling ashamed of what he’s doing, you having no idea he was aware of your Internet personality, yet the daze in his eyes says otherwise. his hand works faster, eyes now completely glued on the screen as he ignores the drool, threatening to slide down past his lips. he’d burn the world just to have his cock be hugged by your walls, to have you screaming his name over and over until the entire building memorizes the sound.
you began to bounce; slowly and steadily while rubbing the sensitive nub of your clit. your breasts bounce wildly in the rhythm.
mydei follows your pace, cock fully erect and smothered in slick while your lace panties lay somewhere in his room—completely forgotten as if he wasn’t fawning over them moments ago.
you were a goddess to him, didn’t you know? of course you don’t. that body of yours was eden, a sanctuary he wishes to hold with his bare hands. he wishes to hold your plump breasts, suck your nipples, use his thick fingers to prep you on his dick. maybe you’d prefer his tongue on your heat more? perhaps you’d like the contrast—his dick deep down your throat until you’re tearing up.
mydei closes his eyes, chewing down his lip so hard he swore he was about to rip the skin.
you’re always getting loud when penetrating yourself. the man before the screen begins slowly pumping his hips down his hand, suppressing to let out his deep groans as he begins to fuck his fist. he could barely distinguish how breathy he’s becoming, far too focused on your mewling over the screen as you fuck yourself on the toy.
his eyes catch on how much of a mess you were leaving with each bounce. your slick sliding down on the transparent dildo, signalling the need pumping through your veins. how he loves watching you go crazy on it. but, hell—it would’ve been much better if you were going crazy on his shaft instead, burbling nonsense.
the thin ribbons that were once barely hiding your tits were sliding off on their own, forgetting its purpose to attach on your skin before the end of the livestream. each gasp coming from you quickens his pace, squeezing everything out of him until he’s found the perfect release.
“a-are you guys close?” your voice breathes, barely hiding the whimper behind your throat as you speak. you continue to rub down your clit, head throwing back as you feel the glass hitting deep. mydei lets out a soft growl in response.
he could hear the lewd squelch coming from your pussy taking over his speaker, breathy sighs and moans mixing with his heavy panting. what’s left is feeling your skin on his, and it would be such an experience to have you clawing down his back and biting his neck to muffle your noise.
he trembles, feeling his orgasm building up quickly inside of him. his hand was working in a blur, slick slapping repeatedly on his skin, tip on the verge of exploding before licking the drool off of his lips. he strokes his cock roughly, the urgent evident in his movements as he follows your suit.
you were close, it’s obvious that you were getting close. the way your breasts was wildly bouncing is enough to give him a sign.
“i-i’m gonna…c-cum…” your breath hitches, barely paying attention to the flood of donations on your screen. mydei grunts, eyes squinting shut as the sounds of his own pleasuring shamelessly fill his bedroom.
perhaps it was a coincidence, or maybe just by pure luck the moment he murmured that out loud was when you finally arched your back and convulsed, squirting all over your sheets as you choked out a heavenly moan against the glass toy.
this triggers mydeimos’ own orgasm, cursing out loud befor his hips jolts forward with a loud squelch—making a mess all over his desk.
there was silence for a moment. mydei pants heavily, dick twitching and glistening with his own juices as he finally leans back on his chair. he came so hard, his hands are cramping with how fast he just fisted his cock like it was lifting weights (how fucking stupid). sweat rolls down his chest, heaving heavily before his free hand weakly reaches over the mouse.
@ user314d8ei: [donated 1,000 credits!] you’re beautiful
he limply lifts his hand, reaching to pull out a tissue paper from the box before cleaning himself up. his dick was still sensitive, flinching the moment his hand fell to contact while wiping himself.
mydei looks over at the screen, watching as you brush your hair back with your body still heaving from the previous orgasm.
“thank you, user314d8ei…you’re always so sweet”, was all you replied, blowing him a kiss from across the screen.
maybe phainon was right about his ass being too easy..
surprise isn’t usually the word you’d use whenever mydei would randomly show up to your doorstep with something homemade in his hand. compare it to new rumors circulating around the building, knowing the stoneface of b14 knows how to cook better than half of the residence is no shocker to anyone.
the tall male stands before you, a bag of pastries in hand as his eyes avert away from your curious gaze behind your door.
“ ‘was testing a new recipe out. i was hoping you don’t mind indulging a bit and telling me how it tastes.” his hand lingers by the bag, fingers hesitating to let go unless you take it from him. honesty always looked good on a man like mydei, and perhaps that’s why he seemed almost shy, like he wasn’t used to offering anyone a piece of himself.
with a soft smile, your eyes land down across the transparent bag; baked beignets. you could easily tell how chocolate fills the dough from the scent.
“good afternoon to you too, mydei.”
god, how adorable he was. behind all that muscle was someone you’d love to have a good bang.
but maybe that’s why you’d taken the time to put on your favorite lipgloss, hair just fixed perfectly until it fell on the right places when you saw him through your tiny peephole. with a smile, you fully opened your door, an unspoken sign to invite him inside.
“thank you for the treat. have lunch with me, will you?” was all you told him, giving him space to walk inside your spotless doorway.
and mydei knows he won’t decline.
a/n: uuuh the ending is rushed, ik…. </3
