#like you would not see me again after that

[screampied]

❛ ۪۪۫۫ ༄ؘ HARLEYS IN HAWAII ❜ g. satoru

☆ sum. it’s been almost a year with your sugar daddy and as a candied sweet surprise, he takes you on his private yacht. although—the thing that’s even sweeter is the ‘love’ chocolates you both try just for fun. after all, satoru’s always had a sweet tooth.

wc. 6.6k

warnings. fem! reader, sugar daddy!gojo au, age gap (early twenties/early thirties), unprotected, aphrodisiac chocolates, marathon séx, praise, dirty talk, overstim, dry humping, feral gojo, fīngering, cervīx mentions, cunnilīngus, spīt, hair pulling, size kink, premature ejac, breedīng, petnames.

➤ sd!gojo masterlist.

“ah ah, no peekin’ sweetheart,” a husky voice purrs near the nape of your neck. your plump lips curl into a pout as he’s making you drag your feet toward wherever he was taking you to. the air felt coolly warm, so much so that it was humid. satoru told you to wear something comfortable and warm, specifically a sundress. “there we go, jus’ a few more steps. good girl,” and the rubber bottoms of your flip flops stomp against something hard—you’re assuming the rising platforms were stairs. your ears perk and twitch a bit at the sound of crashing waves and you start to grow curious.

“are you—”

“shhh, quiet baby,” he shushes you, and you feel various designer cold band of his rings dance against your skin. again, once you step into what seems to be some wooden platform, he stops you from walking, turning you to face another way. big hands cover over your eyes and your own hands before he gives your cheek a soft chaste kiss. “m’kay, ready to see your surprise?”

with a nod, he removed his palms from your face and your eyes widen at the revealed sight. a yacht, not just any yacht though, but a private one — the satoru gojo yacht that was probably worth millions. it was huge in person, and you don’t even realize the two of you are both in the middle of the ocean until seconds later. “satoru,” you sheepishly say, feeling a wave of butterflies thump through your heart. the older man’s got the cheekiest grin and he takes off his sunglasses, putting them over your face. “when you said ‘surprise’ i thought you meant like new earrings or something.”

“i can always give you those too,” he strokes your cheek, watching as you fail to maintain direct eye contact. despite having the tinted expensive lenses protect your eyes from the sun, it still shined bright—making you squint a little. satoru’s voice pitches low before he playfully lifts you up, fixing the back of your sundress. “but sweetheart, this weekend’s just about you ‘n me,” and once your arms cling onto him, he starts walking near the lower part of the rumbling yacht. “besides, i have one more surprise to show you. felt like spoilin’ you a bit more today.”

you were quite literally living in luxury. .

as if the outside of the yacht wasn’t breathtaking, just wait until you saw the master bedroom.

despite how you were slowly starting to get accustomed to this lifestyle, his lifestyle—you couldn’t help but be amazed at such royalties being given to you. his yacht was even prettier inside, but this was the norm for satoru. and with him, he had no problem sharing his luxuries with you, his favorite girl.

just for you and no one else.

but you couldn’t think but get trapped in your mind at certain thoughts plucking through your brain. you started to wonder what would have happened if satoru was never a passenger of first class when you used to work as a flight attendant.

you’d constantly wonder the what if’s, but of course you were always always grateful. it’s one of the many thing’s satoru liked about you, how you were always thankful without even saying it. you’d show it, even going far as to giving him gifts.

“imagine we lived here,” satoru hums, leaning back against the satiny cushioned pillows. the entire room was spacey, with rose-gold paint covering the walls. he brushes a thumb over his cocktail glass as he sits on the burgundy sofa. the slick floor’s a sheeny beige color, and in the background, played some old vintage noir.

‘sunset boulevard’, one of satoru’s favorites.

he preferred lots of silent films and adored more than anything when the two of you would watch them together. he’s got on a silk red robe, twirling a bit of his white shown chest hair with a finger. “life on the water. sounds romantic, yeah?”

“what if we drowned, ‘toru,” you mumble, stepping out of the bathroom. the floor was made of slick glass crystals that made up the smooth texture, and you then pause—staring at the white haired man. he’s pretty, manspread and laid back with his hair slickly parted. ever since he’s met you, he grew his hair out a little and it slightly flows near his shoulders a bit. still unkempt and parted, it gives him a more maturely modern look.

his dimples poke near the inside of his cheeks before he simpers. “princess, we won’t drown,” and he sets aside his glass. satoru’s bright eyes linger toward your sundress—one of the many he’s bought you within in the past month.

it fit perfectly, it’s a cerulean blue color that almost matches his eyes.

if it was anything he liked, it was to pick out your outfits, and of course—he’d let you do the same for him. “phew,” he whistles, eyeing you carefully. “you look gorgeous. like always,” he murmurs, averting his eyes away from the screen and now giving you his uninvited attention. your plush thighs cling together before you feel the room of the yacht grow abnormally warm. “oh, right. the other surprise i wanted to show you, c’mere.”

“okay,” you mumble, making your way toward him. satoru slouches back against the cushioned sofa, spreading his legs even wider. slut, he knew what he was doing with his robe slit halfway open, exposing his growing chest hair. a snowy white curl of hairs glue against his chest and you gawk further down toward his lengthy happy trail. god, you found yourself swallowing thickly the more you stared and you could see the smug grin forming against his thin lips. “what . . is it?”

“i remember a few weeks ago you said you wanted to try tabs chocolate,” satoru mumbles, and you watch as he pulls out a thin black cover of rich chocolate. your eyes widened.

he remembered?

you stare at the pricey covered casing, already smelling the cocoa from the wrap. it was true . .

you teased satoru about wanting to try tabs chocolate one day, just to see if it was really real. you were curious on if the chocolate really could help invigorate and arouse people in the bedroom. satoru shrugs, glancing at the cursive writing displayed on the candy. “. . so, i got it for us both. i don’t think it really works, by the way.”

with an eye roll, you plop down on his lap. a beefy arm snakes around your waist before you grab the slim package. “i checked the ratings online. ‘m pretty sure it works, satoru,” and he gives you a complacent nod with his hands raising teasingly. calling your bluff quietly, he watches you tear the plastic all the way open. his eyes follow your fingers and how they swiftly drag away at the nearly wrapped material. once everything’s removed, it’s an entire dark chocolate bar with three perfectly attached squares. even the smell was arousing. “do you wanna try it at the same time?”

“how ‘bout you feed it to me,” satoru coos, and you feel what you think is his leg prodding underneath you. “i’ll feed you yours, sweetheart.”

damn, even his sentences sounded vaguely dirty.

you felt a lump grow in your throat before you blink thrice, holding up the bar of candy. “f. . fine,” you huff, and you watch as his perfectly parted lips sprawl apart. at the same time, you both slowly feed each other a small bite of the chocolate. the moment the rich taste of maca cocoa and sugar falls onto your salivating tastebuds, you let off a soft hum. it’s sweet, but you remember reading online that the effects would take a good twenty to thirty minutes to kick in.

satoru chews it, swallowing it and he scoffs. “honey, i think you just got scammed. nothing’s happening—”

famous last words. .

because not even thirty minutes later, satoru finds himself dived nose-first right between your legs.

he’s feral, on his knees for you and all. usually, satoru would shower you with lots of foreplay, kissing down your neck, your thighs, every part and inch of your body — but now, he couldn’t.

not when he felt so hot, his body felt like it was it was scorchingly on fire. and of course, satoru being satoru just had to lick your fingers after you fed him his single piece of chocolate.

you’re laid up on the sofa now, whimpering with a hand digging through his shaggy white locks.

satoru’s the most deranged he’s ever been, and you’ve seen him feral for you in more ways than you could count. he’s laying his tongue flat, lapping up your sweet folds, still tasting the chocolate on his tongue with the mixture of your own slick.

“f- fuuuck,” he’d huff, feeling his heart beat thump through his ears. it was barely even a big bite and he was like this. you couldn’t help but imagine how he’d be if he ate the entire bar.

you’re moaning, glancing out the window and taking in the breathtaking view of the dancing choppy waves staring right back at you. a pretty serene canvas of rotating waters—you found yourself getting lost at the sea, gazing at how the waters would violently crash against the bottom of the yacht. it’s a mesmerizing view. after a while, your eyes move back down toward satoru who’s still between your legs. he’s lowly groaning, slowly rutting his hips into the edge of the sofa. “ ‘s like the candy makes you taste sweeter.”

“don’t stop s- satoru,” you moan, making sure to keep a firm grip on his head. his pretty lashes were closed shut whilst he’s swirling counterclockwise circles against your puffed clit.

fuck, you felt a gasping shriek snatch out from the back of your throat once you felt him starting to suck. he was always messy - always.

tangled strings of saliva would dribble down past the corners of his lips, flopping onto your sweet cunt. satoru had the kind of tongue where you’d feel him everywhere.

he flicks it around everywhere, spelling out every letter of his name before spitting on it, licking it up directly afterwards. a palm smears his bubbling saliva before he laps it up again, thrusting his tongue in and out. “ooooh,” you’d squeal, feeling him wrap his mouth around your pussy. you’re twitching inside every few seconds and he feels your cute dramatic pulses. beryl blue eyes that blissfully shine against the sunlight flicker up at you briefly and he’s got that same smug grin again.

“mphm, pull on it,” he grunts, and you whine once he traps your swollen clit between his teeth, holding your throbbing nub hostage. satoru can feel himself getting more and more hard, all because of the sweet melodic sounds that left from your lips.

both lips, on one end you’re hysterically moaning and the next, you’re squelching repeatedly.

his favorite thing to listen to—satoru’s favorite place out of all the places he’s taken you to, had to be between your thighs.

at his words, you weakly give him a soft tug, grabbing a nice handful of his perfect locks and he gets tugged forward. “good girl,” he huskily grumbles, resuming to lick two long stripes up and down against your cunt. forever more, he’s savoring your syrupy taste that lingers on his tongue and dribbles from the chin down, moaning from the aftertaste of the chocolate that just won’t go away. “god, this view’s even prettier than the ocean,” he licks his lips, and you feel yourself pulsate once he breaks away for a split moment to catch irregular breaths.

satoru swipes a thumb over his naturally glossed lips, whistling against your pussy just to feel your sensitive nub throb on his tongue even more.

“oh, she’s a cutie,” he rasps, white brows pursing together. he pulls out two long fingers, preparing to delve them inside. “so pretty ‘n all soaked just for me,” and you moan, your thighs curling around his shoulders. squiiish, the moment he’s easing his lengthy thin fingers inside, you gush out a bit right on him. you were indeed wet . . sopping.

you were already a bit drenched from before, and with the chocolate, you felt even more aroused. it felt like being on a rush - a sugar rush.

satoru huskily coos, delicately curling his fingers further inside before he reaches your g-spot within just two inches of a stretch. “there it is, there’s my other favorite girl.”

“sato—fuucckk,” you drag out your pathetic words, gradually moving his head to side against your sopping cunt with one hand. he’s got his mouth full, stuffed, and his entire face was just flushed from being squished between your thighs. “like that, s- suck my clit, baby.”

“baby, huh?” he mocks your sudden pet name, feeling your fingers comb through his messy frosted strands. embarrassment washes over you and he chortles, finding your reaction to his teasing downright adorable. you whimper as he’s still vigorously scissoring long twin digits inside of you. as your stomach submissively caves in, you start to gnaw on the bottom of your lip. “aw, don’t be shy. i like bein’ called petnames too, y’know,” he whispers against your cunt, watching how easily you soak up both fingers.

your folds couldn’t help but drool. streams of your own slick cascade down between the crevices of your thighs and coat the entirety of his fingers.

with a rosy flat tongue, he slurps you clean, taking every few seconds to pull his fingers out - only to push them right back in.

as your eyes squeeze shut, you start to feel your teeth clench and shatter together from the rhyming pressure.

there, once the fat tips of his fingers poke against your g-spot again, and again, and again. .

that was all it took for you to let off a cute three second shriek. abruptly, a sharp twisting coil snaps within you and he feels your thighs turbulently shake within his feeble grasp.

“fuck, fuck,” you whine, feeling his lukewarm breath continue to ghost against your clit. you couldn’t stay still for the life of you—it was as if every muscle in your body snapped once you came, your jaw dropped and your eyes widened.

“ohmygodohmygod,” you ramble, and satoru’s still flicking his tongue against your sobbing slit.

you’re making a mess out of him and he’s eating it up - like always. his pointed chin’s got such a pretty glimmer of shine all thanks to your glimmering slick running down. with a echoing ‘pop’, he slides his fingers out of your cunt, stretching his digits further apart just to see how your sap glues against them. “ngh, s- satoru you’re so nasty.”

“only nasty for you, sweetheart,” he cheekily whispers, leaning further in to give your cunt one single kiss.

it’s a soft passionate smooch that makes you throb against his lips. only satoru gojo could make out with your pussy right between your thighs. you’re speechless—you could feel yourself still shaking from your recent orgasmic release, the ringing in your ears never subsiding.

satoru’s pretty azul eyes remain fixated on your wet cunt before he gives it one final suck of departure. “mmph,” and his growing white stubble starts to drench even more all because of your sweet slickness that smears against your the lower part of his face. “fuck, ‘m still hungry. ‘s not enough.”

as your legs twitch and remain spread apart, you’re gasping for air as you watch him take breaths of his own to collect himself. “don’t pout,” he huffs, sitting up to close the distance between you both. with his hair all ruffled and tangled—he grinds himself into you. “oh. you want a taste too, pretty?”

“y- yeah,” you nod with droopy eyes, feeling the same amounts of sheer heat.

satoru’s flushed just as much as you, and it seems like as he’s leaning into you, he’s moving in slow motion. once his lips crash onto yours, you moan into his mouth.

he wastes no time shoving his tongue down your throat, pulling on the straps of your sundress. you feel a wolffish grin curl against his lips once his tongue delves even further into your mouth, feeling you part your own away. satoru can’t help but grind against your warm body, feeling your legs hook around his waist. even the touch—the skin against skin makes you both even more hotter. it’s like static rubbing off against each other, and you were about to feel yourself short circuit any minute.

“fuck, ‘toru,” you whimper between sultry sloppy kisses, loud teeth smacking and clashing together. you slowly drag a hand down his hairy chest, twirling a frosty strand around your finger.

the taste — it’s candied sweet.

the rich cocoa still lingers on both twisting tongues and you moan, feeling him nip his teeth near your lip. “you’re perfect,” he gruffly purrs, his voice having its same deep rasp. his kisses become more and more filthy and rough and he playfully licks underneath your chin. “mhm, woman you drive me crazy.”

satoru was still very much hard though—very.

you could feel his boner poke from his robe, it must’ve felt painful.

he was so hard, it outlines against the silky woven fabric the more he grinds into you. satoru couldn’t keep his hands off of you. he’s leaving an invisible trail of kisses all down the slope of your neck, sucking against your tender exposed skin. you always tasted sweet than any chocolate he’s ever eaten.

but it’s to his surprise once you lightly push him back against the cushioned sofa.

“hmph! hey,” he falls back, white strands sticking across his perspiring forehead. satoru eyes you with a bewildered look, wondering what’s with the sudden bratty glint shining in your dilated irises. “that was rude, princess. oughta—”

“lie back,” only two words and he was at your very command. satoru couldn’t lie, whenever you had the audacity to give him orders . . he found it hot.

even if it didn’t last that long,

the white haired man slouches back at your command, roving his eyes down your body. he studies the pretty sundress that hugs against your curves and the way you move.

satoru ogles openly as you made your way on top, straddling him before slowly throwing your arms over his broad shoulders. “relax satoru,” you’d breathe, and he groans the moment electrifying friction kneads against his lap. all because of your hips swerving on his raging boner, you cause a spark that ignites within you both. to say you were a ‘mere’ tease was an understatement. “like that, hold my hips baby,” and his big hands gradually move toward your rocking waist. you start to jerk against him real slowly, casually grinding yourself on his lap. you swerved around, guiding his hands to where you wanted them to go.

“oh, s. . sweetheart,” he choked out a nervous laugh, his boner steadily arising underneath his robe.

for a moment, the two of you forget that you’re both on a yacht, surrounded by nothing but smooth pretty bodies of water. it was as if it was only you and him in the entire world. time stood still. it was like you were moving slow, and the more your body moved, the slower time got.

satoru stares at the way you playfully sway your hips against his. he groans, the cloth from his robe that protects his hardened cock continuing to rub against his skin. “you’re killin’ me here. let me touch some more at least.”

“ask nicely,” you lean in closely, pressing a kiss near the left side of his cheek. satoru shivers from your touch, his jaw feeling heavy. such a tease, but that’s what he got for spoiling you rotten.

with a near pout, satoru grumps. “please, sweetheart,” and his big hands glide toward your active waist anyway. “let me touch my pretty girl while she’s movin’ her cute hips on me,” and his playfulness returns within a blink of an eye. you hear the cheekiness in his voice and he leans in to nip a kiss near your neck. “fuckin’ brat.”

“then do something about it.” you whisper with a coy grin, resuming your salaciously addictive movements against his lap. satoru grunts, his brows contorting together in frustration before he grabs your wrists, pinning them up.

satoru’s now got you in a secure grasp and a hand snakes down your waist, giving your ass a soft squeeze. a jiggling nice chunk goes into his palm before he seductively licks up your neck. “i plan to, little girl.”

and he did.

one second you’re on his lap—the next, you’re lightly being slammed on all fours, cheek smushed ruthlessly against the padded sofa.

you squeak out a tiny gasp, feeling him practically tear your sundress apart. satoru groans, staring at your bare ass cheek that’s peeking out of your loose clothing. you’ve got a bratty smile twirling against your lips but it soon fades away once you feel that.

his fat tip—satoru brings it up towards the opening of your sopping cunt, smacking it three times against your folds. “you’ve got some nerve, sweetheart,” he clicks his tongue, hearing your broken whimpers return.

god, even your pussy felt warm against him. fiery electricity surges through you both and he hisses, watching as your pulsating pussy desperately tries to swallow his cock wholly.

he’s so big, you knew it and you didn’t even have to face him directly. all you had to do was feel.

his tip was round and thick, reddened with a rosé flushed color. satoru tosses his head back, feeling your pussy twitch against him as a sloppy greeting of its own.

“heh. she’s so excited,” he breathes through clenched teeth, already breaking a sweat. the yacht continues to slowly create distance in the background but at that point, no one was even thinking about the yacht. “so. fuckin’. wet.”

he smacks his weighty dick against the outside entrance of your pussy, hearing the sloshing whines squawk out of your poor needy folds. as he’s hitting his tip against your cunt, he purposely punctuates his words with tap.

“satoruuuu.” you’d moan, desperately aching for him to just go in already. you wanted it, and the searing heat you felt coursing through your veins just from the chocolate made you throb ten times more.

“i know, baby. i know,” he coos in a rough voice, talking over your whiny babbles. panting heavily,

satoru glances down once his leaking tip finally disappears inside of your drenched cunt. you let off a shaky breath, even going so far as to wriggling your ass back against him just so he could hurry the fuck up.

“tsk. so impatient,” he snickers, velvet straps of his robe skimming against his skin. satoru’s got a bulbous fat curve and with a single hand, he gives his cock a few stroking pumps.

one, two, three . .

he groans once a bit of loose skin from his coral colored frenulum peels back. as he’s stroking himself every few milliseconds, a prodding vein pokes against his palm. bristles of white hairs that glue against his thickset base tickle against his skin.

“mhm, gonna take my time with you. now let’s see that cute arch. just like we practiced.”

moaning, your back raises slightly with your knees cowardly burying themselves into the sofa. “mmph,” and he lightly pushes your head further into the cushion. his tip was so close.

he’s hitting you from behind with his thrusts slowly, on purpose.

he wants to hear those sweet sounds cry out from your lips. satoru grunts once he’s finally going in, thick cock stretching around your elastically stretched walls.

you’re so soft — sweet gummy flesh compressing around him with such ease, wringing him tight like a vice. satoru groans, giving his chiseled hips a single shimmy before pursing his lips together.

“thaaat’s it, hngh. this pussy knows it’s place,” he grouses, and your eyes widen once you feel his plumpish tip delve further between each corner of your slick cunt. he’s fucking thick, and within seconds later he was already inches in.

once his flushing crown disappears inside of your cunt, you whimper once he gives you one single thrust that causes your entire body underneath him to quake. “fuck, ‘s so sensitive,” satoru nearly whines, still feeling tingly from the saccharine flavored treat. he’s panting heavily, mouth dangling open and all. “how’s it feel, sweetheart? ‘m not going too rough, yeah? talk to me.”

“good. feels good, ngh. don’t stop, ‘toru. harder,” you beg, a hand of yours reaching from behind, crawling near your ass. you eye satoru through your blurred peripherals as you turn slightly around and he flashes you a sleazy grin.

that’s the look he makes before he’s about to fuck you stupid,

that’s the look where his eyes were hooded and half lidded, panting heavily like a dog with multiple thin strands of white hair sticking across his forehead.

you were fucked, literally. .

“hah, wasn’t gonna,” he moans, feeling his cock grow insanely sensitive. it was in a way he couldn’t explain—so hot, his head swells up once he starts to move.

as he’s trying to create a decent rhythm with his hips, he’s oscillating deeply into your core. sloppy thrusts pound into you with such carnal vigor that he’s basically humping against your cunt.

every few elongated seconds that dragged out, his tip mercilessly smacks against that target buried deep inside your cunt, striking a perfect bullseye.

‘x’ makes the spot, and his dick always knew where to locate your clit — every single time.

it doesn’t take long before satoru loses it, and he’s losing his momentum. his movements consisted of want and ache.

the head of satoru’s cock was turgid, slowly dragging in and out of your puffed clit as you damp up his entire length. you whimper, feeling the legs of the sofa rattle and jitter from underneath you both. he’s got mean deep strokes that leaves your jaw dropped, toes curled, tummy churning all from how good he’s hitting you.

you’re cutely smothered into the pillows with your mouth just pried open, forming a small gasping ‘o.’

every stroke, every hit, every smack against your ass, you felt like you were on cloud nine - the lewd dirty version no one ever talks about though.

satoru’s got a big hand tracing down the curvature of your waist that later trails down toward your ass. he can’t help but feel against the thin fabric of the sundress, tempted to just rip it off it you. he’d be happy to buy you dozens more anyway.

“fuck me, fuck me satoru,” your eyes roll crisscross, and your entire body feels itself repeatedly ringing from the merciless slaps of skin hitting against each other with determined might to reach his well awaited potency.

he’s bucking his hips against you, watching as tears of sweat start to race down the cracked valley of your ass. “fuck, ‘toru, satoru—ah!”

“heh, sweetheart the walls aren’t soundproof,” satoru playfully bonks the back of your head. your moaning falters, and he chuckles mid-thrust. “aw, don’t be embarrassed,” and you let off a soft gasp once he presses his sharp hips all the way against you. a beefy arm wraps around your neck in a safe hold before he grunts in a husky whisper right up against your ear canal. “ ‘m sure the captain won’t mind, be as loud as you want.”

“s- shit,” you whimper, already starting to feel your thighs struggle to stay afloat. satoru towers over you completely, rutting into you from behind with irregular toe-curling hits.

he’s meanly jackhammering you further into the sofa, the screeching sounds of the seagulls outside growing louder. the loud reverberating claps of skin that roughly ricochet against skin makes your ears ring like bells on a wedding day.

as he’s feeling his cock tighten inside of you, he’s now got you in prone bone. he’s so close to you, hovering his weight behind you with his sculptured hips glued to your ass.

satoru’s thrusts now go slow, slow but deep, making sure you feel, savor, and devour every single inch. “ugh, that spot ‘toru, right fuckin’ there. ‘m close.”

a hand goes over your mouth and you let of a muffled, ‘mmph?’ as he’s still fucking you raw.

satoru’s popping his bulbous crownhead in and out of your stuffed pussy before lowly groaning once coolly air briefly sets against his skin.

“watch that mouth,” and you whimper, feeling his free hand grab near your neglected breasts. you lean into his touch, feeling a bit of your own saliva dribble onto his palm. a thumb of his swipes against your perked nipples that poke through your sundress and you let off a muffled moan. “such a filthy pretty mouth. ‘s a shame,” and he leans in more, licking a stripe near your neck. “i don’t think girls with colorful mouth’s should cum. do you think they should?”

as if on cue, your head raises up and down, doing a cute attempt of a nod as he’s still got your mouth covered. satoru’s still thwacking his fat cockhead into your g-spot continuously until your brain’s short circuiting.

“awww, yeah?” he hums, pressing a kiss near the back of your head. and oh, he’s cocky again, deepening his hits against your core. removing his arm from around your neck, he raises your hips up just a little bit for a more better and thorough angle. “too bad, because i wasn’t talkin’ to you, silly girl.”

and you moan even louder once a rude buck of his hips snaps into you at such untamed speed. you gasp right away, your entire body trembling beneath the sofa. “talkin’ to her,” and as his hand drags down your back, he maneuvers a few circles against your stuffed clit.

you’re whimpering, occasionally glancing out the window. the waves continue to crash against the port side of the yacht background — beautiful.

you’d never get used to the view. the salty smell of the sea wafts against your flaring nostrils as you’re literally being stuffed full of cock, eyes rolling back with your back completely arched. satoru’s so big, splitting you open with his vast mushroom tip so easily. “god, she’s got so much to say today, listen to her cute ‘lil sentences,” and he briefly pulls out, hearing your cunt ‘pop’ out a word or two, wetly squelching from the continuous thrusts.

satoru’s throbbing cock drooled from the sides with seeping white droplets of pre-cum and he groans once he feels himself tightening yet again.

“fuck mee,” and he takes a second to stare at your pretty cunt that’s got your folds slobbering with so much honeyed glistening sap. “aw, she said no,” he teases, dragging a sleazy thumb down your pleading saturated entrance. your mess quickly soaks against his fingertips, making him just as wet as you. satoru feels you writhing against his touch, begging for him to finish and he chuckles. he tsks, wrapping a hand around his shaft before another hand wraps around your neck. hmm. does the pretty baby deserve it? after that ‘lil stunt you tried to pull on me?”

“s- satoru, please,” you moan, feeling your weak legs gradually buckle against the fuzzy furniture. you swallowed whatever pride you had left, feeling your mouth suddenly grow dry as the anticipation grew.

you were so close - right there. practically. gnawing on the bars of your enclosure.

he knew had to tease you, keep you on the edge of your toes. with your ass cutely trying to raise up and move back against him, you let off a sobbing moan. “lemme cum, please. ‘m sorry.”

“no you’re not, sweetheart,” he whispers. aligning himself again between your sniveling slick slit, his wide pink tip leisurely starts to stretch throughout your gummy walls yet again. oh, that part. the way his hefty hanging curve twists its way inside, you felt like you were tasting literal ecstasy. “are ya?”

“no,” you moan, still having a bit of brat left in you.

satoru snickers, the expensive band of his watch gliding against your hip as he holds you in place.

“at least you’re honest,” and you shudder, feeling him lick a long stripe up your sensitive jugular. his girth was so broad and wide, you feel him dip every inch inside of your cunt and you were sure you were gonna break.

he treated you like a doll—specifically a rag doll, tossing you and fucking you where it hits good.

but, fuck was satoru was ruthless.

he’s unapologetically sloppy with his thrusts, making you grind back into his pivoting hips. as his sack hangs back against his loose skin, he smears his lax lips together, groaning at how effortlessly you were squeezing against him.

“fuck, you’re gonna make me cum too, sweetheart,” and as his body’s still pressed right against yours, he hoarsely grunts lowly against your ear. “give it t’ me, make a mess on ‘toru, baby.”

his words poured into your ears like silk, smooth like honey. each sentence he spoke had an effect on you, more than the love chocolates ever did . .

you felt your pussy sporadically convulsing just from his raspy out of breath tone alone.

satoru’s rotund cockhead continues to bruise against your cervix, sloppily kissing around each spot until you’re practically screaming out his name. “louderrr,” he purrs, kissing down your neck once more.

the coarse smacks of skin continue to echo against the walls of the spacious yacht bedroom and satoru grunts.

oh, he’s whipped.

his hips start to slow down by each second, and you feel that pressure within you finally snap. “that’s my girl, thaaaat’s it,” and he talks over your whimpers yet again, creating a wet trail of kisses down your shown shoulder blade. “atta girl, atta fuckin’ girl.”

the both of you groan in unison and after a while, he shortly follows. satoru’s cock was so full, he’s snapping his hips into you at such a wicked speed that you could barely keep up. his stamina was simply unmatched.

you let off a whine and so does he—seeping his teeth into your neck. “hngh, fuckin’ shit.” and as he grabs both of your hips, slowly reeling you back into him - he’s cumming, hard.

thick ropes slowly spurt into you, spraying right near your womb and he lets off the sexiest moan.

it lasts for a good seconds, and it’s like he got defeated — your pussy being the opponent. .

satoru’s washboard abs flex beneath his rope as his head tosses back. it’s an almost growl that leaves his lips. his sensitive tip locks into your tightening entrance, still feeling ribbons of satiny ropes dribble into you at such a snail like pace. it’s so much.

he’s staring to pant more and more as globs of sweat pouring down the sides of his forehead. satoru’s cock shrivels up inside of you and he gives your ass a soft spank. his sweltering hot crown stills itself inside of your cunt as he stays still, lavishing in the sensitivity of both slick mounds enjoy the sticky feelings of fluids combining in lewd felicity. both bodies rut against each other and now it was his turn for his eyes to roll back.

“s- satoru,” you quietly whimper out, feeling the bubbles of creamy wads ooze down between the fat crevices of your thighs.

a lustrously white ring forms around his tender base before he gradually starts to pull himself out. you’re still reclined, feeling your entire body heat up even more. your sundress was still pulled up to your waist and he groans, tugging at the fabric with one hand, another touching his own mess he just created that’s spilling down your thighs.

“such a sloppy girl,” he huffs, out of breath. even still, he’s cumming inside and merrily fills you up to the very brim.

you moan once he slides back in, only to pull his aching tip right back out out. it’s another loud ‘pop’ that resounds through each of your twitching ears.

holding a sharp breath, satoru’s cock slathers itself against your drooling pussy before smacking it against your folds yet again. “look at that, ‘m never gonna get tired of that sight.”

satoru ends up fucking you stupid for hours on his yacht.

in all positions—any position, he moved you toward the bed, folding your poor limbs like a pretzel while his cock continued to massage through your walls by stretching you open. satoru made sure you never forget the barrage he made inside with his lengthy length.

satoru was always whipped for you, but it’s like with the addition of chocolate, it made him ten times more feral. ten times more feral for you.

he’s hungry, you could see the look in his eyes. how his pupils were blown, how he made sure to give you romantically deep yet nasty strokes.

his body would rock against you in sync against your own while the yacht that carried you both continued to judder in the background.

he pumped you full—stuffing you entirely again, and again, and again . . simply put, he was virile.

like he said before, you drove him crazy, and he was starting to think to himself, maybe . . just maybe, you weren’t just his sugar baby anymore.

each time he’d spray a generous amount of cum inside of you, he’d let out a loud guttural groan. he’s weak from how warm you feel from the inside, and your moans for him to keep going only fueled him. satoru’s a literal animal, manhandling your body and fucking you everywhere he possibly could in the master bedroom.

the sofa, the bed, the wall, against the mirror. .

his favorite,

he loved to wrap a hand around your throat, making you stare at your lewd facial expressions right with him. the way your glossed lips would part and your eyes would widen once he makes you stare at the slight bulge that pokes against the lower part of your tummy. he’d serenade something to your ear in a purring deep voice like, “feel me there, sweetheart?” making you touch the exact spot he was hitting.

a pearly stream of his seed dribbles outside of your folds and now, he’s got you in nothing more but an intimate mating press.

“eyes up here,” he rasps a soft panting tone, gently prying your hands away from your face.

he’d just coaxed you through yet another orgasm, and your entire body felt like it just ran a marathon. you were sure by now the effects of the chocolate had worn off for the both of you - it did.

but with satoru, he looked like those many rounds didn’t even faze him. not one.

he’s still lodged inside of your cunt, his tip spitting out thick ropes for the nth time of the night and he groans. your eyes glance down his snowy happy trail and glance at his sharp v-line that’s tensing up from the stimulation. “you . . took me so well,” and he leans in, pressing a tender kiss against your lips.

“mmf—” your arms wrap around him, entrapping his skin waist with your legs. his toned body rocks itself into you for just a few more times before he steadily pulls out. his flaccid cock rests against your bare tummy and you moan, tasting the last few remnants of sugar that lies on his tongue.

satoru’s heart beats rapidly, and once he opens his eyes to stare at you, he knew you were dangerous.

tresses of white hair glue against your skin once his forehead lightly pressed against yours. within seconds, after he found himself pulling you into another deep kiss, something was different. this time, out of all the kisses you shared with him, you think this one meant something more.

it was far more slow and passionate, his body rocks against yours and he groans in your mouth, feeling your hands scratch down his soft skin. you leave a painting of scratches all down his back, a canvas he can’t wait to look at later.

as your tongue continues to tangle with his, strands of spit form into translucent cobwebs before he starts to suck on your tongue. “god, woman you drive me insane,” and he pulls away, completely out of breath. his pretty lips were all glossed and swollen, and he cups your face. “sweets, i—,” he cuts off, locking eyes with you.

his heart was pounding,

telling him to say it - just say it.

but the way you gave him that look . . your arms remain wrapped around him, limbs tangled with each other and he lets out a soft sigh. delicately, he pulls out and watches you let off a soft moan once you were now clenching around nothing.

“ah,” he shakes his head, leaning in to press a kiss against the corner of your quivering lip. “i . .” and a lump gets caught in his throat.

you strum a thumb against his undercut, a simple gesture that you knew would always soothe him.

the white haired man leans into your touch, his heart practically yelling at him to just spit the words out before he speaks against your lips, slowly lifting up your leg, kissing your ankle.

“i think . . i think ‘m in love with you, sweetheart.”

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: your boyfriend comes to pick you after a long day at uni. sensing your jealousy about the attention he’s getting from your classmates, he makes it up to you in his own way.

tags. olderbf!gojo x female reader. fluff, tiny bit of angst, suggestive [make out sesh]. age gap — reader above 20, gojo early 30’s. jealousy. reader gets called ‘princess, baby, beautiful.’ not proof read !

satoru’s arrival, as per usual, serves as pure entertainment for many students. it’s not often that they get to see such a tall and handsome man around campus after all.

you patiently stand there, waiting for that said man to come and get you. the increase in giggles and whispers around you can only mean one thing: he’s nearby.

your boyfriend’s car comes to a stop in the distance. satoru steps out of the driver’s seat a second later, one of his hands running through his fluffy, snowy hair.

‘. . damn, he’s fucking hot,’ ‘yep. heard he’s in a relationship though. sucks,’ ‘girl— do i look like i care? need him so baaaaddd.’

it’s infuriating to hear those words while you - his girlfriend - are standing close to them. you decide not to give those girls any attention nor do you try to speak up. it’s not worth the effort.

satoru closes the car door behind him, his hands in the pockets of his slacks while he strolls up to where you’re standing. it’s as if he’s walking down a runway - graceful, confident, every step executed with perfect balance.

he can hear the murmurs from the students around, but he simply does not care. his steady gaze has been fixed on you the moment he spotted your figure from across campus.

“cute,” satoru mutters under his breath with a small smile, blue eyes taking in the sight of you standing there against a wall. the way you’re fiddling with the strap of your bag while pretending not to have noticed him is quite endearing.

you look down at the ground until a pair of black oxfords come into view, stopping right in front of yours. you slowly tilt your head back until you’re face to face with the man himself.

“hey, beautiful,” satoru greets, his voice smooth and slightly deep, a faint smirk playing on his lips. his knuckles brush against your cheek whilst he admires your every feature, acting as if he hasn’t seen you in days.

you nod in response, whispering a small ‘hi’ before your eyes dart around campus again. your bottom lip pushes forward just a tiny bit to form a small pout.

. . and there it is; satoru knows that look in your eyes like the back of his hand. he’s seen that same pout before, along with the hint of jealousy lurking behind your gaze that you try so hard to hide.

he understands why you’re feeling that way.

the other girls on campus, the way they ogle him and whisper, it would make any woman insecure. but to him, there was no need for that. satoru is yours, and he’s made that known to every single soul around you a million times before.

perhaps they need to be reminded once more.

satoru wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close, his touch gentle and possessive. he can see how you’re trying to act normal, though he knows you way better than that.

the pad of his thumb rubs small circles into your hip as your lover leans in and speaks in a low yet intimate voice that only you get to hear, “oh? look at you, acting all tough with your little pout.”

“tell me. what’s up, princess?” satoru whispers, his breath warm against your ticklish skin. he lowers his head to your face and plants a small kiss on your nose, gaining a mix of delighted yet irritated whispers of the people around you.

“usually you jump right into my arms after seeing me— y’know, like a lil’ bunny,” the white-haired man starts sulking as well, pressing your body flush against his. “where’s my cute ‘n clingy babyyyy?”

satoru’s over-exaggerated whine makes your nose scrunch up, though you can’t deny the truth. he knows you better than you know yourself. he can see right through your attempt to disguise your jealousy, yet you’re still too stubborn to admit anything.

“whatever. come on,” you roll your eyes before grabbing his arm and tugging him forward. you want nothing more than to escape your surroundings. you’re getting tired of the continuous and unwanted attention satoru is getting.

it’s irksome. you know satoru doesn’t give them the attention they so desire - he never will - yet you still feel this pang in your chest whenever you see those girls shamelessly ogling your boyfriend.

satoru, being naturally observant, notices your sudden eagerness to leave campus. he can tell that your jealousy is growing worse because of the other students that keep on eyeing him. while he is used to the attention, he hates seeing it affect you.

the whispers and giggles from the other women are like white noise, insignificant background fodder that barely warranted his notice. you’re all he sees and listens to— no matter what.

your presence, your voice, your body, your soul. . . you’re the only one he cares about. he just wishes you’d realise that.

satoru wordlessly allows himself to be dragged off. his gaze is fixated on the back of your head, a mixture of amusement and worry glinting in those blue eyes of his. he can’t help but feel guilty. even if he didn’t really do anything wrong.

he wants to make it up to you, somehow.

once you reach the car, satoru gently shoos your hand away from the door handle the moment he catches you try to get in yourself. he reaches around you and pulls it open with a soft ‘click’.

satoru then surprises you by kissing your forehead— his free hand coming up to cup the back of your head. his fingers bury themselves in your hair. a subtle smirk tugs at his glossy lips as he senses the envious glares from the other, irrelevant onlookers.

that’s exactly what he’s trying to accomplish. to make it known to the world that he’s your man. he’ll gladly do it over and over again, until all of them finally take the hint.

“ladies first,” satoru gestures, his voice gentle and loving. he pulls back and smiles at you with his dimples showing. you’re slightly taken aback by the smooth gesture before thanking him in a small murmur.

“thank you.”

it’s silent for a good couple seconds after satoru gets into the driver’s seat. he settles his keys into the ignition switch, though doesn’t turn them. instead, he faces you with a small sigh.

your lover already recognises what’s up. you probably won’t talk to him until the jealousy subsides. but that isn’t how he wants to fix this situation— he wants you to communicate with him.

“hey,” satoru tries to get you to look at him. your body is slightly turned away, your eyes looking out of the car window. it’s painfully obvious that you’re upset with him, even when it isn’t specifically his fault.

“don’t hide from me, c’mon,” he chuckles and tries to make you feel better by bringing your hand up to his lips. satoru leaves small kisses on your palm, eyes peering over the rims of his sunglasses to gauge your reaction.

you still don’t turn to face him. you’re too caught up in your own feelings— too stubborn to talk about the jealousy and insecurities that are bugging you. you know it’s unfair to your partner, but you currently can’t fix your own emotions.

sensing your insistent reluctance to face him, satoru places his hand gently under your chin. his fingers curl around your jaw and gently guide your gaze to meet his. the sight of your downcast expression - plagued with insecurity - tugs on his heartstrings.

“oh, my sweet little baby,” the white-haired man sighs once more.

without another word, the gap between you quickly closes as satoru leans in, his lips meeting yours in a firm but soft kiss. a soft gasp escapes your lips at the suddenness of his kiss, but the tension in your shoulders slowly starts to dissappear as you melt into his embrace.

the touch of his calloused fingers on your jaw is a wordless command you cannot resist. the kiss is a silent form of reassurance, a way for him to remind you of his feelings for you.

his want and need for you.

satoru can nearly taste the jealousy etched into your initial resistance, which he seeks to silence with his touch. thus, he deepens the kiss with renewed vigor. his free hand cups the back of your head and gently tilts it upwards to gain a better angle.

“mh. sweet,” satoru’s tongue swipes over your bottom lip. he eagerly swallows the faint taste of candy that you had eaten earlier. his tongue delves into your mouth the moment your lips make way, memorising every part of it.

he doesn’t let go of you until you’re both breathless. the sorcerer pulls back, though keeps the distance between your lips at a minimum. his cheeks are painted a soft pink, eyes half lidded and lips even glossier with your saliva now coating them.

“haah— fuck,” satoru catches his breath while his free hand rubs up and down your waist. he resists the urge to pull you into his lap and ravage you right then and there. he’ll leave that for when you’re home.

his gaze is on your parted lips once more. he simply cannot hold himself back from leaning in. his body moves closer to yours, caging you in between him and the passenger seat.

“i’m all yours,” satoru murmurs against your soft lips. he cups your face as he places a quick peck on your mouth. “only yours,” another chaste kiss causes your smile to find its way back onto your face. “don’t you forget,” and a third kiss finally makes you giggle.

your lover hums in satisfaction. he nuzzles his nose against yours, grinning widely as he successfully managed to coax the jealousy away— to gain his beautiful, happy girlfriend back. “there she is,” satoru coos and squeezes your cheeks together.

you huff at the feeling of your lips forced into a deformed ‘o’ shape, yet the bright smile tugging at your lips doesn’t disappear. “sorry for acting so childish,” you apologise for your own behavior. if it wasn’t for satoru taking the initiative to make it up to you, you would have given him the silent treatment.

the white-haired man shakes his head. he ruffles your hair affectionately while his lips settle on your cheek. he tenderly nibbles on the plush flesh, “no need to apologise. ‘t was cute,” he replies in a muffled voice.

satoru pulls back and his thumb brushes over the subtle mark that his teeth left on your skin. “besides,” he pinches your cheek before cocking his head to the right. your eyes follow the direction he’s looking at— which is your car window.

“i think everyone finally realised that y’re the one ‘n only girl for me.”

your heart drops as you only then remember that satoru’s car windows aren’t tinted. that means that everyone on campus probably has seen the little make out session you had with your boyfriend just now.

your eyes quickly dart around the crowded area. the way your fellow students are glancing at you - some with envy and others with embarrassment - tells you more than enough. . .

you clear your throat and try to hide your face with the sleeves of your top. you don’t know how you’re going back to university after today without facing the humiliating consequences of your (satoru’s) actions.

your shameless boyfriend sits there and grins from ear to ear, proud of his accomplishment and oblivious to your embarrassed state until you speak up again;

“. . satoru, please drive away as fast as you can.”

[writersdrug]

I need the bartender Simon having to escape upstairs for a few minutes just to control the monster in his pants just because of a more direct provocation from the reader

I was saving this ask and I think this is the perfect moment after Simon sees reader in his shirt, no?

Warnings: NSFW, masturbation, sex toy, pining, daydreaming about p in v sex

He doesn't dare go up to his room - even after the bar is closed, after you and Johnny are both gone, after his tasks are complete. His mind has been scrambled ever since you came down in his shirt, looking like you'd just woken up from having a nap in his bed. He knew that wasn't the case, but it was so easy to pretend. You made it easy, looking like wearing his shirt was just your typical Friday outfit. If he tried hard enough, sitting at the bar after hours, sipping on an Old Fashioned- he could imagine you were up there right now, lying stomach-first in his bed, wearing his shirt, with "LT RIELY" on your back - you weren't objective, he certainly doesn't think of you like that - but having his claim on you aroused the most primal part inside him. If only you could see what you've done. Did you even know it?

Price comes lumbering down the stairs. Simon doesn't bother to look at him; he sits at the bar, his Old Fashioned long gone, with an empty whiskey glass and the mostly-full bottle next to him. He was hoping to replace the thought of you with drinking, but he didn't have the stomach for it.

"I'm plannin' to see if Garrick wants to join the team." Price says, shrugging on his jacket. "I know he wanted to be his own man, but we could use him. Our girl's made this place quite popular."

Simon wants to spit out the words he'd just heard. Our girl. Whose girl? John's? Soap's? The entire pub? It was his name on your back. Not Price. Not MacTavish. He was the one you came to with all those receipts, numbers scribbled in the margins, trusting him to help you ward them off. Sure, you have fun with everyone, asking them all for help - but you go to him the most easily, whenever you need to feel safe. Bad customers, bad situations - you looked to him. Didn't that mean anything to Price?

He doesn't respond to his captain, choosing to stare at his empty glass instead. Price looks at him quizzically.

"Feelin' alright, there?"

Simon grunts. "Long day."

Price knows he's bullshitting him. He knows exactly what this is about. He sighs, pulling his beanie on and tucking the money pouch into his jacket. "If you want 'er, Simon, tell me to back off. Can't read your mind."

That has him pursing his lips, grip tight around the sides of his glass. He would have punched John, was he any other man. He knows exactly what Simon's thinking, yet he makes him work for it. Typical. His pride and his jealousy are fighting tooth and nail against each other, but he can barely say a word.

Price stands there a moment, waiting for Simon to speak - but he doesn't even spare the owner a glance. Bastard's always punishing himself... he thinks, sighing again.

"Bright and early tomorrow, lad." He says, heading towards the kitchen. "Lights off when you're done here." He knows Simon's capable of closing, but he repeats it every night regardless.

"Sir."

Price stops, halfway through the kitchen door. He looks at Simon, who's now staring directly back at him. There's a look in his face, something that reminds him of Ghost - the reason he became his right-hand man.

"Respectfully..." he says slowly. "Back off."

Price almost finds it comical. Like an animal staking its claim, staring at its rival - except they’re not rivals. The only reason Simon is bothering to play his captain's game, asking for permission to have what Price would happily hand over, is because he's his superior. Even if they're all retired from the SAS, no one ever really dropped the dynamics of the team.

He smiles, nodding his head once. "Understood." He says, shoving himself through the kitchen door. "But hurry up and say somethin' to 'er. I'm sick of you losing your mind during the rush."

With that, Simon hears him leave through the back door. He stays there for a moment, his mind reeling - he feels both satisfied and angry at the same time. It was a bit humiliating to tell Price to leave you for himself - you don't belong to him. But that was a problem he was going to fix. You had his name on your back-

For Christ’s sake, he’s got to give it a rest. You wore his shirt, that was all. You wore it – with no bra. Bare. Naked underneath the 141’s insignia, under his title.

And that damn bra is still in his room.

He can’t take it anymore. He unscrews the whiskey bottle and takes a few swigs, before slamming it back onto the bar top. He leaves the bottle and the glass there as he gets up, making his way across the floor, up the stairs, passing the office, and continuing up to his studio flat.

Nothing seems out of the ordinary. If you’d gone snooping, you either did a good job of hiding the evidence, or you didn’t really rifle through too much. His bed was untouched, his books and items where he had put them last – he goes into his drawers, checking to see if you had gone through anything other than his shirts. Considering everything is still where it should be, he assumed not. Though you did leave a mess in his shirt drawer – you’d been digging around in there until you found his old SAS shirt. Did you mean to do that? Were you looking for something with his name on it, just to drive him insane?

He goes back into his top drawer, muttering a curse as he pushes the contents aside. His cock is pulsing in his pants as he grabs his pocket pussy, slamming the drawer shut and heading towards his bed. He doesn't want to draw this one out - this is nothing more than a wank, just to get you out of his head. He sits at the foot of his bed and unbuttons his jeans, pulling his hard length out of his briefs – it bounces up and slaps against his abdomen, precum already smeared across the tip. He’s been hard for hours now, trying not to cum in his pants at the thought of your tits rubbing against the inside of his shirt. Do you have small, pebbly nipples? Or ones that are soft and pliant? He growls as he smears the tip of his cock against the lips of the toy, rubbing up and down the slit. He sighs, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. You’re there, rubbing your lips on his cock, your hand wrapped tightly around his shaft as you stare up at him, licking and kissing his tip like a good girl…

He scowls and opens his eyes, sitting upright – he sees your bra hanging off the back of his chair, and he nearly passes out form how quickly the blood rushes to his cock. Pink lace, delicate and kinda skimpy… and your shirt, crumpled on the seat of the chair. You’d forgotten to shove them into your bag before you left. Or did you do this on purpose?

He's reaching out before he realizes it, slowly standing up and heading towards the chair. He wants to grab your bra, rub his cock in it until he stains it with his thick cum – but something in the back of his mind keeps him from touching it. One, it’s purely you, and he doesn’t want to ruin that. Two, he’s trying to cum. Not to cum to you. He’s doing this to get rid of your image in his head.

So, he goes for the next best thing. He grabs your shirt and sits back down on the edge of the bed. He lines himself up with his fleshlight and brings your shirt to his face; no wonder the drinks had turned it translucent, it was the thinnest fabric he had ever felt. Practically skin.

He presses it against his face and inhales: the scent of you, sweet, floral and spicy, fills his mind. It makes it all to easy to imagine that you’re sinking down onto his cock, and not that he’s stuffed it as far as he can into the toy. He groans, his eyelids fluttering shut as he pumps his hips once, then again… the tightness of the fleshlight slides over him easily, offering no resistance with the precum acting as a lube while he grinds up into it, heat knotting in his gut. The waist of his jeans hugs his thighs as he slowly and steadily pulses towards the ceiling, taking deep breaths of your scent.

He feels like an animal. Dirty, cheap, and desperate. He has to remind himself that it’s not about you, it’s about having a good wank and getting you out of his head. He drops your shirt on his chest and uses his free hand to cup his balls, groaning as he massages them. The schlick of the fleshlight around his dick is loud, the sensation borderline painful as he quickly fucks into it, curses spilling past his lips as he slams the thing down to the base of his length, catching on the Jacob’s ladder piercing on the underside, then back to the tip.

He shouldn’t, but he lets his mind slip elsewhere. What would you be doing? Would you have your hands on his chest, lips parted in a moan as you drop your hips onto his thighs, your cunt dripping and squeezing around his member…? What are you doing now? Are you still wearing his shirt? Are you lying back on your bed, playing with your breasts under the fabric and using your other hand to toy with your pussy? What do you sound like? Are you saying his name, or can you make any sound at all?

He falls back against the bed. “Fuck fuck fuck-“ he mumbles. He’s caught himself in a trap here – he can’t allow himself to indulge in the thought of you, begging him to take your hips and buck up into you – but it’s impossible to get you out of his head. Even if he could, he doesn’t think he’d be able to cum without you. He squeezes his fist around the fleshlight, groaning loudly from the pain, trying to drown out the sounds of your moans in his head… you’re always there, ever present, leaning over him and whimpering in his ear, need you, Simon, wanna cum on your cock, want it inside-

It's all too much for him, but not enough. He turns himself over, climbing up to his knees on the bed. He props himself up on his forearm, holding the fleshlight with his other hand as he ruts into it, stuffing his cock in as far as it will go, until the lips are smashed against the base. He pants and groans, mouth hanging open as he hovers over the bed; over you, holding one of your thighs up, touching his forehead against yours, watching as you’re covered in a layer of sweat, tits bouncing with each violent thrust of his hips. Both wrists secured above your head with one of his meaty hands, whimpers and whines spilling from your mouth as you struggle to remain coherent. Your cunt swallows him greedily, hugs him tightly, pulses around him, coaxes him to pound into you harder and harder, your walls twitching as slick gushes around him, your fingers digging into the back of his hand as you cry out his name, “Simon, Simon, Simon”-

He hisses through his teeth as his balls seize up, his abdomen going taut and his dick twitching in the toy. He rips the fleshlight off and grabs your shirt without a second thought, wrapping it tight around his cock and pumping it. “Gonna cum, gonna cum- fuck- oh, fuck-!” He mumbles to no one as his orgasm is ripped from him, hips canting repeatedly as cum spurts into the fabric of your shirt, leaking out around his thighs as he thrusts into it, thighs aching from the exertion. He bites into his hand and growls as he continues rutting, fighting through the overstimulation to chase what remains of his high – but he soon collapses on the bed, huffing and groaning into the mattress.

His orgasm fades slowly, his heart ramming against his ribcage and the fog clearing from his head. Realization sinks in as he’s hyper-aware of your shirt, still wrapped around his dick, now soaked in his cum. He'd have to wash it, now. Filthy doesn’t even begin to describe how he feels, but he doesn’t find it in him to care anymore. He rolls onto his side, clutching your shirt in his hand. Fuck. One quick tug was all this was supposed to be, and now, he’s picturing you lying across from him. Face flushed, lips swollen and eyes hazy, smiling at him and panting. Telling him you love him. He’d say it back a million times. Listening as you breathe, as you talk about your silly little ideas for the pub, for redecorating his room… craving the moment where you drag yourself closer to him and snuggle into his chest for the rest of the night.

He hasn’t gotten rid of you, like he hoped for. He’s only made it more clear: he wants you. He wants his life to be threaded with yours, he wants to wake up next to you, he wants you to change his routine, to pick up his broken pieces and make a mosaic – and he wants to be there when you need someone, he wants to give you everything you want and more, whether that’s a life up in the clouds or down here, in his arms, in his small bed and lackluster apartment. You’d make it better; you’d make anything better.

He sighs, slowly sitting up and on the edge of the bed. Price was right – he’s got to hurry up and say something to you, or else he’ll be drowned in his obsession. You’d either agree to take this fucked-up giant on a date and end his misery, or you’d reject him, and he could force you from his thoughts and replace you with misery. It’s worked before.  

He pulls off his jeans and shirt and grabs the fleshlight, standing with a grunt and walking into his bathroom. He’s planning to clean the toy, but if he waits long enough, he might just be fucking it again in the shower.

[criminalamnesia]

Traitor part 8

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

here it is everyone :)) took me forever but it’s finally here! now I can disappear in peace lol. I’ll proofread everything later, but I hope this lives up to everyone’s expectations. thank you all for the love you’ve given this series. I hope this gives you some closure.

let me know if you want any drabbles from the series <3

thank you again!

after kyle finally leaves you alone, you slink back against the door, shutting your eyes so tightly stars dot your vision.

it never ends, does it?

apologies. worry. sympathy. pity.

it was in each of their eyes— the one-four-one. each of them trying to mask their pity for you behind sickening sympathy. you were exhausted of that look— not just from them, but from everyone you had walked past or looked at since everything had happened.

you open your eyes, scanning the room. what once had been a haven had become a hell. shattered glass sprinkled the floor near the mirror. clothes were still strewn about. you hadn’t bothered picking up what had been disturbed.

you’d be gone too soon for it to matter.

your phone rings then, the screen lighting up in the dimly lit room. you let the ring tone play for a second longer before you’re moving, reaching for the device on your nightstand.

it’s kate, and you breathe a sigh of relief.

“hello?” you say as you answer the call.

“it’s kate,” comes the woman’s familiar voice through the speaker. “im on my way to base. should be there by tomorrow.”

you startle, eyebrows raising in confusion. “you’re coming here? why?”

you hear her sigh. “we can talk about it tomorrow. I need to meet with john, anyways. two birds, one stone and all that.” she tells you.

“can you at least tell me if the paper work is all set for my transfer?” you ask.

she doesn’t answer for a moment, and then:

“we’ll talk about it tomorrow, sergeant. get some rest. you sound like you need it.”

you hear a click, and then the line goes dead. you furrow your brows as you look down at the phone in your hand.

why on earth would she come all the way here just to talk?

your mind is moving a mile a minute, and suddenly, it clicks.

laswell is coming here to do damage control.

you huff a mirthless laugh, dropping your phone as your hands come up to run through your hair.

you weren’t being reassigned. you were being discharged.

but was it at her insistence, or someone else’s?

you whip around, wrenching open the door and storming down the hall to price’s office. those you pass in the hallway give you bewildered stares, and suddenly you’re aware that you’re still in that damned robe, but you’re on a mission.

and when you start something, you see it through.

you don’t bother knocking as you reach price’s door. instead, you barge into the office, effectively interrupting an argument between price and simon. their voices die off, heads turning to appraise who had barged in.

price’s eyes widen at the sight of you, but simon’s face is as unreadable as always. the door clicks shut behind you, and you stalk towards the two men, your fists clenched as you seethe.

“you motherfuckers,” you hurl the words at them, “you fucking knew. you knew.”

“love, what are you talkin’ about?” price questions, his brows furrowed as he turns to you.

“laswell,” you say, and price’s eyes widen. he knows. and now he knows you know.

“whatever she told you—”

“she didn’t tell me shit,” you huff. “I figured it out. why the fuck else would she come here just to talk? she’s playing fucking babysitter, isn’t she?”

price doesn’t speak. your gaze flits to simon’s.

“I’m sure you were rooting for this outcome, weren’t you? couldn’t finish me off in that fucking room, but hey, this is just as good, isn’t it? sending me back to fucking nothing.”

“this job is my life,” you turn your attention back to the captain. “and you fuckers just can’t stop ruining it, can you?” your voice is raising, and tears prick the corners of your eyes. you’re becoming hysteric.

“all because of a fucking lie!” you’re yelling now, jabbing a finger into the chest of your former captain.

“calm down,” the sound of simon’s rough baritone leads your head to snap toward him. your eyes are wide, fury and terror blazing in them.

and he expects you to let loose. scream and hit and scream some more. but you don’t.

you stand there and you stare at him with those wide eyes. the rest of the room— hell, the world falls away— and it’s just him and you.

like it was on patrol during countless nights, your bare fingers dancing over his gloved hands as you prattled on about a show you liked.

on countless nights curled up in his bed, your back to him, pressed so close he could feel the beat of your heart in his own chest. his arms wrapped around you, one of your fingers lazily tracing the ink on his forearm. no words spoken, yet so much said.

in the field, when you and johnny bicker over comms and he takes your side. when you take a bullet to the shoulder and he holds pressure on it until evac arrives.

when he makes eye contact with you as you pin kyle to the training mat, finally able to overcome his strength. when price tells him you’re the rat and he doesn’t want to believe it.

it’s just him and you. a lieutenant and his sergeant. but it’s more than that.

it’s a deep understanding of this job being your life. of losing everything and everyone you hold dear. of finding family again in this team, and doing whatever it takes to keep that family safe.

and he fully realizes, then, what you have been condemned to.

what they condemned you to.

what he condemned you to.

he breaks from his thoughts as you slam your fist into his jaw.

price’s eyes widen, his feet carrying him forward to intervene, but simon waves him off as he cradles a hand to his jaw.

“let ‘em,” he grunts out, and price looks bewildered, but he nods. he takes a step back, his hands falling to his sides, and he lets you strike again.

“fuck you,” you seethe, and despite your best efforts, your voice cracks. emotion seeps in, and your eyes are wet as you swipe a leg out from under him, forcing him to his knees.

he falls with no grace, knees hitting the concrete floor with a dull thud. you’d cringe if this were any other circumstance.

instead, you deliver another blow, cracking his nose with the force of it. blood sprays out and wets your robe.

“ghost—” price begins from somewhere off to the side, but simon just shakes his head.

“fuck you, simon! fuck you!” you scream at him, and your fists are flying blindly as tears cloud your eyes.

and he just takes the hits. you subconsciously register the sound of the office door squeaking as it opens and quickly closes. price didn’t want to be a bystander any longer, it seems.

but he still didn’t jump in. was it because of ghost’s insistence? or because your captain didn’t want to watch one of his soldiers finally snap?

you finally stop yourself when blood drips from your knuckles. unsurprisingly, they’ve split again. there’s no doubt in your mind that there will be little scars between each of them once they’ve healed.

more to add to the reminder of everything. god, at this point you knew you’d never forget it even if you wanted to. even if you tried to. even if you did for a brief moment, those little white lines— discolored and jagged skin in the place of what should be smooth and unmarred, would be your reminder.

blood pools on the floor, a mix of yours and simon’s. you pay it no mind as you wipe the backs of your hands on your completely ruined robe. good— now you had a great excuse to throw the damned thing away.

you would’ve thrown it away anyways.

you bring your hands to your eyes, wiping away tears that had freed themselves their cage. you see simon clearly then, his face bloodied and yet still beautiful in that way of his. his nose is obviously broken. lacerations above his eye and on his cheekbones.

his eyes are staring back you, the icy blue of them never more intense than now.

you heave in your breaths as you look at him. his split lip cracks further as he opens his mouth.

“done?”

and you don’t have anything left to give, so you nod. then you slump to your knees, down onto his level, and you don’t look away from what you’ve done.

it’s no different than what you did to the doctor, or to countless enemies in the field. but, at the same time, it is different.

because it’s him, and he let you do this. he could have easily stopped you. he’d shown his strength against you numerous times on the sparring mat, picking you up and tossing you around with ease.

and yet he didn’t stop you.

“why?” you ask him, and it’s a loaded question. your voice is a watery tremble, and the word comes out as a whisper, but he doesn’t shy away.

he shrugs. “you needed it.”

he’s focusing on one aspect of the question— on why he let you hit him. you open your mouth to respond, but he surprises you by speaking again.

“least I could do,” he says.

you close your mouth, your chapped lips pressed into a thin line. why is he doing this now? saying this now? what changed?

“is it your fault, then? that I’m being discharged?” you find yourself asking, and you’re not sure if you want to know the answer.

maybe you just want a reason to hate him more.

“no,” he says, and you know he means it.

he never lied to you, regardless of any pain it may have saved. it was one of the things you had loved about him.

he sighs. “I didn’t want you to go.”

that surprises you. simon was never one to freely speak on his feelings. he had opened up to you during your relationship, but it was as if there was always an invisible line he could never cross. never did he utter the complete truth to his thoughts or feelings. and you had accepted that— because that is who he was.

and you would take him with all his walls if it just meant that you could have him.

“I don’t want you to.” he corrects himself.

the room falls silent around you. the part of you that still holds love for him yearns for his embrace at this moment. but you push that side of you down. you will not go crawling back, not after what happened.

“you’ve been an asshole,” you say, and he gives a curt nod.

“probably.” he concedes. “but I wouldn’ take anythin’ back. I told you, I meant what I said.”

“is that supposed to make me feel better?” you ask. god, he has a horrible way with words.

“no,” he tells you. “nothin’ I can say can do that.”

you snort. you fall back on you haunches, your hands in your lap as you look at him.

“I am never going to forgive you,” you tell him, words full of so much hurt.

he nods again. “I know. I don’ blame you. don’ expect you to, neither.”

“but I’m…” he starts, and his lips crease in a frown. “im sorry.”

you just look at him. perhaps you had wanted an apology at one moment in time, but now? now none of it mattered.

“I hope so,” you tell him. you move to stand, and he remains still. he hasn’t moved an inch since you’d finished your assault.

“I hope you feel this way for the rest of your lonely life. I hope that you never forget what you did to me, and I hope that it keeps you up at night. because I can tell you with certainty that I will never forget. and I hope the others remember, too. I hope it tears you all apart from the inside. that it follows you around for the rest of your career.”

you breathe in, then out. “and I hope no one ever gives you the chances I did,” your voice is soft. “because I would never wish what you did to me on the next person you think you love.”

his face conveys no emotion other than the small frown still on his lips. his eyes, so cold, have softened the tiniest bit. you used to love when you could bring out that softness inside of him. when it was just the two of you, your hand in his, his eyes on you.

those memories would suffocate you if you let them. what could’ve been will suffocate you. you refuse to let it.

you turn and stalk towards the door, not bothering to spare him another glance. you open it, stepping out into the hallway, coming face-to-face with the rest of the one-four-one.

their eyes are all wide as they take you in. your bloodied hands and robe. the dried tear streaks on your cheeks. you pull the door shut behind you before you speak.

“i don’t care to speak to kate,” you say to price, your eyes meeting his. “fuck her for not giving me a chance. and fuck you for laying down like a damn dog and not fighting for your fucking team.”

you turn to johnny next. “you shove your sorries up your ass, mactavish. I don’t want your sympathy, and I don’t want your pity. I hope your regret eats you alive.”

finally, kyle. “and you,” you glare at him. “if anyone other than simon should’ve defended me, it should’ve been you. I met you first, kyle. you were my closest friend, my brother. and you turned out to be just another fucking lap dog.”

you shake your head, blinking away hot tears. “I want you to get me temporary housing and a car because that’s the least you owe me, after ruining my life. and I don’t want to hear from any of you ever again. if I do, I guarantee you I will not show you the mercy you think you showed me when you had me tied up in that chair.”

none of them spoke, and you didn’t give them a chance to as you pushed past them, heading back toward your room to change.

a yellow cab retrieves you from base the next morning before kate arrives. it’s still dark outside when you leave the shelter that had once been home. rain pours down around you, a raging storm hanging overhead as it had all night prior. perhaps it was a reflection of your mood. you liked to think that it was.

you toss your duffle bag into the trunk, shutting it before climbing into the back seat. you hadn’t bothered to pack anything other than a few pairs of clothes you’d recovered from the floor of your room. everything else could be trashed, especially anything the boys had given you.

the driver doesn’t speak— price had given him all the information he needed— and paid him— before he’d fetched you. it seems your final outburst— and beating simon to a pulp— had finally put some urgency in his movements.

none of them had seen you off, per your request. you thought it was the least they could do for you after continuously disrespecting your boundaries.

(unbeknownst to you, simon had watched you leave through a window.)

the driver turned up the music— some pop song you didn’t know the name of— and you slumped in your seat, your head turned toward the window as you watched the rain race down it.

you found yourself drifting off quickly, and you didn’t try to fight it. you’re finally free of that place and the men you thought were your family. free of the anxiety of seeing them around every corner. free of the hate that sparked in your heart every time you heard their voices.

you sleep, and for the first time since before everything, it’s peaceful.

you wake to the taxi driver talking to you.

“we’re here,” he says, knocking on the glass separating the front and back seats. “can you get out now? I gotta get home. it’s my wife’s birthday.”

you blink the sleep from your eyes, nodding before you even register what he’s saying. “sorry,” you mumble as you fumble with the seat belt.

you slip from the car, your boots splashing in a muddy puddle. you grimace as the murky water seeps in, wetting your socks.

you trudge around to the back of the car, opening the trunk and retrieving your bag. you’ve just shut the trunk and stepped back when the car is driving off, kicking up mud that further dirties your boots and jeans.

you pay it little mind as you look at the small cottage before you.

nestled between some trees, it’s beautiful. a shingled roof. light blue paneled siding. a small front porch with a rocking chair and a bench swing. a beautiful dark blue door.

your favorite flowers live in the flower beds surrounding what you can see of the house. it makes you wonder if its a simple coincidence or if simon or price planned it.

how long have they known that you would have to come here? that you would have no where else to go except for where they put you?

you vowed that this house would just be temporary. you would get away from it as soon as possible, putting the rest of the one-four-one behind you. you didn’t want any of them knowing where to find you.

the rain slows to a sad drizzle. drops prick your skin as you make no effort to avoid puddles, splashing carelessly to the front door. you can hear birds beginning to chirp, slipping out of their hiding places as the sun’s rays begin to illuminate the earth once more.

a new beginning, you think.

you reach a hand toward the door knob, twisting it open and pushing inside. it’s a cozy little place with wood floors and a brick fireplace. it’s furnished, but there’s no personality to it. it clearly hasn’t been somebody’s home.

the door clicks shut behind you as you toe off your boots and drop your duffle by the door. as you nudge your boots out of the way with a foot, you notice an envelope on the floor.

eyebrows scrunched in confusion, you lean down and scoop it up. your name is written on the front in a scrawl you don’t recognize.

who else knows you’re here?

perhaps you’ll need to leave sooner than you thought.

you push your thumb under the seam, ripping it open with little finesse. inside is a typed letter. it’s an offer, you realize. a job offer.

its got an american stamp on it, and its signed by a phillip graves.

a new beginning indeed.

[celestialspritz]

Why Sims 2 has been so broken the last ten years

This is down to my own research, and I'm not saying it is the one and only reason why the game is so broken these days, but I have some points worth mentioning.

So, you're bored one day. You remember this game you had so much fun playing a few years ago, or maybe as a child. It's The Sims 2!

The game has a few issues than from when you last remembered playing, so you search on google for some fixes for the tiny resolution, and among the countless posts you may find, you may find this:

Or this:

(to the creators and players mentioned here this isn't me making a dig at you, i'm just pointing out some cc that could affect the game from working properly. your stuff is all beautiful :D)

Lesya's game is gorgeous!!! Oh, how can I get it to look like that?

So you, with a clean, vanilla (ugly) game you decide to download a few mods she listed, such as:

Skylines by GCKP (you can get optimised ones by me here)

Skies by Lowedeus (you can get optimised ones by me here)

Trees by Criquette (you can get optimised ones here)

No More Blurriness by Voeille (you can get optimised snow only here)

Cool! And then you notice some cheats than can give the game that open-world, interactive feel. Even better!

And you shove them into your folder and you boot up the game. Everything's going great!

Until...

You search hundreds of posts looking for the fix. Some recommend 3rd-party tools, but they seem to make the problem worse. You reinstall, finding you only wasted your time. Something has to be causing this, but you'd never guess it'd be the mods everybody swore by.

Well, in fact, it is. Partly.

I've struggled with pink flashing since 2019, when I reinstalled Sims 2 after I got a decent computer for once. I did everything above, searched for fixes, found Lesya's blog which was my primary inspiration. It was through Lesya's guide that I was able to make my game look pretty!

These mods, which are a staple in the modding community, are beautiful indeed... but what if I told you that the reason they're so beautiful, is because they're high-quality. With textures soaring up to 4k, when, hang on--

In 2004, 4k resolution was... probably unheard of. With the leading monitor size being 1024x768, what would be the point of using such huge textures on an engine that was designed for monitors of at least this size? Would you be able to see the detail of 4k on a monitor of that size? Definitely not.

The max visiting sims, okay, a little hit or miss. If your sims are all wearing high poly alpha CC, then it's a problem. If not, good luck.

Then comes the cheats I mentioned. The lot skirt cheat expands the view distance a significant amount. With the mergenhoodflora cheat, that displays more trees. Combining the two, what do you get?

A massive view distance, blinded by trees.

With skies and skylines with large textures up to 4k, and trees with textures up to 2k, The Sims 2 will collapse. It's like forcing an old man with health conditions to do 20 situps, again and again.

It'll overexert him, by the very least. And you're overexerting the game by cramming custom content that is not optimised for the engine TS2 was built on.

So please, next time you encounter the pink soup, please check your CC folders, and research changes and cheats before you put them into your game. You will enjoy the game much more if you do this, and won't encounter this problem so often.

Don't use Graphics Rules Maker

Instead, opt for a maxis original Graphics Rules uploaded here by Veronavillequiltingbee. It's essentially a rewrite of an old tutorial I made a long time ago.

Once you download the file from VVQB, open DXDIAG by pressing WinKey+R and typing 'dxdiag'.

This value I've underlined is what you need to put after seti textureMemory. Open the sgr file and do CTRL-F and input seti textureMemory.

Add the value from DXDIAG and then save it.

You can use GRM for adding your GPU to the game, but I do not recommend it for anything but that.

Optimising the game... inside the game

*shoves GRM off the table*

We're going to go into TS2 in-game settings for this one.

These settings are optimal if you play CC-heavy households. It will ease the load on your game to make space for the heavy CC you have in your current household. You can tweak these when you want to take photos outside, but for playing I recommend them all to be off - especially at community lots as there are lots of sims there.

I never see anybody talking about Object Hiding.

Object Hiding hides objects from floors that aren't in view. If you're playing downstairs, objects upstairs won't be rendered, thus minimising the load on your game.

I have reflections and smooth edges off because I use ReShade.

Snow on Ground is optional. Sometimes snow can cause pink flashing, I believe it's due to texture replacements that are huge in size too, Voeille's is 2k. I've linked a resized one above.

This post will be updated with later findings. I hope you all found it informative :]

[gojoest]

FIRST WORD — girl dad!gojo satoru

girl dad satoru, established relationship (you’re married, it is indicated that you have two other kids besides the little one that appears in this drabble), nanami cameo, suggestive credits at the end (breeding hinted, just to be safe), sry this lowkey sucks + not proofread, i typed it out in 10 mins but i hope you enjoy!

satoru is trying really hard to get his little daughter to say “papa”, but oh well

“come on, my life — say it”

satoru, crouched down before the baby chair where his little daughter is sitting, a picture of his face in one hand while the other alternates between pointing at the photo and then at his face, slowly repeats, over and over, with utmost perseverance and patience, the first word he wishes his little one would utter—

“pa-pa”, he carefully speaks, syllable by syllable. “pa-pa”, and again. “come on, baby — at least you don’t betray me, i know you’re papa’s girl — come on now, say it”, he pleads.

this has been going on for the past few weeks.

your entire house currently looks like the room of a teenager where it’s posters on the walls and little trinkets on the shelves, courtesy of heavy hyperfixations. but instead of posters and trinkets it’s your husband’s face, everywhere. kitchen, living room, hallways, your baby’s room — every-single-where and every-single-surface and wall has the photograph of your husband’s face on it. he even purchased custom-made plushies and toys of himself, some of which are hanging from the musical baby mobile above your daughter’s crib — but instead of music it’s his voice, teaching his toddler through made-up songs how to say ‘papa’.

“satoru, don’t you think this is a little bit, um— “, you once brought up, pausing to clear your throat, trying your best to sound softer while you say this. knowing how sensitive he is about the matter, and how devoted to have this innocuous win — “…too much? hm, love? it’s like you’re… brainwashing the baby…”

lips immediately pursed, satoru pouted under his nose — “easy for you to say, our two other kids said ‘mama’ first — effortlessly, at that. let me have this one at least”

okay, you shrugged and backed off.

and this morning, as you sipped on your coffee, you silently watched your husband in the kitchen — kneeled down before the baby chair, going about his educational routine.

after he was done with the photos, he took your daughter’s hand and pressed her fingers on his lips, while he kept repeating the word ‘papa’. he said that this method allows the baby to see the way your mouth moves as you speak but also hear and feel the sound all at the same time. (he sure has read a lot of things on the internet)

but your little one remained silent, only giggling here and there as she poked around her father’s face, completely refusing to cooperate with him despite his desperate attempts.

it is an endearing sight, really. part of you felt pity for your husband, you cannot lie. he was trying so hard, and for what...

all of a sudden,

the doorbell rings.

“i’ll take it”, you quickly pad over to open the door.

it’s nanami — dropping by with some baked treats for the kids, as he often does. your children love him a lot. during dinner gatherings he always sneaks away to read them bedtime stories. even though he doesn’t look like the type on the surface, he sure has a soft spot for children. and, truth be told, they are all naturally drawn to him as well. maybe it’s his calm demeanor and the sense of safety he brings along with his presence.

“ah, thank you — these look so delicious, i am sure the kids will die for a bite”, you chime, as you guide him into the kitchen.

“oh— nanami, it’s you”, satoru casually points out without even turning his head to greet him, his eyes glued on his little daughter… who seems to be looking elsewhere, past her father…

…at nanami.

a bit bothered by that, satoru shifts a little bit to the side, to block the view — to, once again, be the main focus in his daughter’s eyes. but, alas…

she tilts her head, googly eyes glancing at the blond man behind her father.

she opens her mouth, a giggle first escapes, and then—

“na-na—”, she pauses… “—mi” — a beam of laughter and her hands reaching forward, pointing at nanami.

silence in the kitchen befalls.

you cover your mouth with a hand, trying to prevent yourself from bursting into laughter. it’s tragic but funny at the same time, and you know — in just a few seconds the real baby in this room will not be your daughter.

“nanami”, satoru slowly stands up, shoulders hanging low and voice — monotone and stern. “get out”

p.s.: satoru makes a scene. he is absolutely devastated. you have to drag him away and pick up the pieces and calm him down. and, of course, he thinks — the only way to make things better is to give him another child. a new opportunity…and you need to get down to business, now. while nanami is babysitting downstairs.

[pathologicalreid]

what goes bump in the night | s.r.

in which Spencer's struggling with violent nightmares after prison, and you find yourself on the receiving end of his tossing and turning

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: reader gets whapped in the face. don't like don't read, please. blood, prison arc, black eye, a lot of guilt. therapy. word count: 1.89k a/n: (this wasn't a request but shout out to the anon who told me i had to repost this after i deleted it) this is some dark shit but i have to admit i do think about the possibility a lot. take care while reading my loves.

Several years in the BAU had inadvertently trained you to wake up at any slight movement or noise. While some might call it paranoia, you considered it to be a finely tuned skill.

Spencer didn’t sleep talk before prison, and even now, he only mumbled in his sleep when he was having a nightmare. Normally, he didn’t move, he just tossed his head around and begged for whoever he was seeing in his nightmare to just hold on. Tonight was different, he sounded like he was pleading for someone to leave him alone, and he was thrashing more than usual.

You knew there was a risk of waking him, but you reached out and gently shook his shoulder anyway. “Spence,” you whispered, not wanting to hurtle him out of his darkened dreamscape.

There was no response. No sign of him coming even close to waking up.

His thrashing became worse, and his mumbling became even less intelligible like something was covering his mouth in his dream. Reaching out from your side of the bed, you tried to grab his hand, hoping it would be something that he could use to ground himself. Gripping his hand, you said his name again, more forcefully this time.

The pain didn’t even register at first. The first thing you recognized was the sensation of having something stuck in your eye, a small twinge in the outer corner that sent your hands flying to the side of your face.

Oh.

With your uninjured eye, you looked up to see Spencer, awake. Breathing heavy, sure, but awake. Very slowly, his breathing slowed, but he had seemingly forgotten that he was sharing a bed with you until you felt liquid trickling from your nose and scrambled to the bathroom before you got blood all over the sheets.

His wide eyes followed your shadow through the bedroom, putting the convoluted puzzle pieces together as he came out from under his nightmare-induced fugue state only to find a different type of panic. You faintly heard him curse and rustle the sheets as you shut the bathroom door harder than you intended.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, your right eye was tearing up as a result of the impact, and your nose was trickling blood down your face. Grabbing a wad of tissues from the box on the counter, you pressed them to your nose, blinking the tears from your eyes to the sound of your heart beating through your chest.

Spencer knocked on the bathroom door, followed by a larger thud that you assumed was him leaning his head against the door. “Can I come in?”

You tried not to sniff, hating the sensation of your nose being covered, you responded, “It’s your bathroom.” Your tone was far too blasé, and Spencer was going to see through it immediately.

“That’s not what I asked,” he told you, a slight tone of desperation ringing through. You knew what he wanted to know; he was asking if you were comfortable with him being in the same room as you – if you’d feel safe with him in the same room as you.

Leaning your head back, you took as deep of a breath as your body would physically allow you before you answered, “Yeah, you can come in.”

Before you had even finished speaking, Spencer had opened the door to the bathroom, letting the light stream into the bedroom, “Fuck,” he murmured when he saw you, “Hey, don’t lean your head back. You don’t want the blood to run down your throat.”

“Okay,” your voice quavered, watching him lift his hands like he wanted to guide your head down until he realized he didn’t know what to do with his hands – he couldn’t bring himself to touch you. Leaning over the sink, you let coagulated blood fall from your mouth, watching it go down the drain before you looked up at Spencer, who watched on in horror at the mess he had created. “Can you grab more tissues?” You asked him, giving him a job to busy his idle hands.

Instantly, Spencer grabbed a handful of tissues and held them out for you, within your range of motion. Still leaning over the sink, you took the new tissues and held them to your nose, haphazardly dropping the soiled tissue in the basin beneath you. “I don’t… What-“

Cutting him off, you spoke, “Do you still have those ice packs? The first aid ones from last year,” you made a new request, giving him a job to perform so that he wouldn’t apologize to you. He’d apologize until he was blue in the face, but you still wouldn’t know how to respond.

He nodded, crouching in front of one of the cabinets and filtering through a first aid kit, hoping to produce a disposable ice pack for you to place near your eye. With the timidness of a newborn foal, Spencer set the plastic on the counter next to you.

Your boyfriend watched as you carefully peeled the tissues from your face, checking to see if the bleeding had stopped, only to quickly replace the tissue when you noticed a trickle of fresh blood making its way down your philtrum. “Aren’t you supposed to pinch it or something?”

“Yes, you can pinch the bridge of your nose to staunch the bleeding,” Spencer said, grabbing your discarded Kleenex and putting them in the garbage bin. He watched intently as you reached up your free hand to pinch your nose, “Does… does it hurt?”

Giving him a quick shake of the head, you met his eyes through the mirror, “I don’t think it’s broken,” you told him, avoiding answering most of his question.

He loosed a sigh of relief, “Thank god,” he murmured, keeping an eye on you as you wondered how terrified he must have been to invoke the name of a deity he didn’t believe in.

Once you were finally able to drop the last of the tissues in the sink, you were faced with an even worse reality. There was no way of escaping the black eye that you already had forming, the tender skin would be further marred with time. “I think it looks worse than it actually is,” you offered meekly, reaching to your side and grabbing the ice pack off of the counter. You popped the center of it before wrapping it in a towel that Spencer had set out for you.

Holding in a hiss as the towel touched your face, you allowed your eyes to wander across the rest of your body. Your shirt had drips of blood on it, but the larger issue was red encrusted all over your face. With the urgency of a sloth, Spencer took a different towel from the drawer and ran it under the tap, wringing it out before holding it up, “May I?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, thankful for your newly cleared airway as you extended your neck, giving him the access he needed to wipe the blood from your chin and neck. “Spence-“

“I’m so sorry,” he interjected, his movements faltering as he let his hand drop to your shoulder.

You shook your head, crinkling the icepack in your hand, you blinked rapidly, hoping to clear your vision. “It’s okay, I shouldn’t have grabbed you,” you told him, it was the truth. He had obviously been having a violent nightmare, and you grabbing him had likely triggered a fight or flight response.

Spencer sighed dejectedly, “I burst a blood vessel in your eye. I’m so…” his voice trailed off in the middle of his sentence, leaving you unsure whether he was going to apologize again or go off on a self-deprecating tirade. “I hit you,” he breathed, abruptly yanking his hands away from you, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have touched you.” Setting the washcloth on the counter, he put his hands up in surrender and stepped away from you.  

Leaning against the bathroom counter, you wished for an inkling – anything you could say to him that would prevent his auto-villainization. “I wish you wouldn’t say it like that. Saying you hit me sounds so…”

“Wrong? That’s because it is,” he said harshly, and you could almost see the storm of self-loathing that was brewing in his mind.

Shaking your head, you adjusted your grip on the icepack before looking up at him, “but it makes it sound like it was intentional. You didn’t hit me, you… thwapped me.”

Spencer loosed a shaky sigh, “I’m not so sure that’s better.”

“Would you prefer bonked?” You proposed, looking at him and hoping for a small smile, but being disappointed when you were met with the same haunted expression. “It was an accident,” you insisted, reaching out your unoccupied hand and taking his hand in yours, “I am fine.”

He scoffed dismissively, “I should have had a better handle on myself.”

You frowned, “You were asleep, Spence. You couldn’t have had a better handle on yourself. It wasn’t on purpose, and you’re taking care of me now,” you told him softly.

“But you’re scared of it happening again,” he challenged you.

When he had come home, you knew he had been changed. Not necessarily for the better or for worse, but he was most certainly changed. You had heard everything in bits and pieces, what had happened in Millburn, what had happened with Cat, but nothing had prepared you for the harshness of your new reality. He was capable of harming others, but that didn’t mean you thought he’d hurt you again. “You’re disappointed in yourself, but you don’t believe you get to feel that way. You’re projecting onto me,” you told him, taking your hand back.

Spencer flinched back, “Don’t profile me.”

“You, Spencer Reid, would never knowingly lay a hand on me,” you insisted, you believed it. You believed it even if he didn’t believe it himself.

The two of you sat in an angst-filled silence before he stood up straight, gently starting to usher you into the bedroom. Handing you a t-shirt from your drawer to change into, you could see his internal struggle as he grabbed a pillow from the bed and made his way toward the door.

Despondently, your shoulders slumped forward, “Where are you going?” You asked softly, hating to watch him leave your shared bedroom over this.

“I’m sleeping on the couch. I’m gonna… I’ll try to set up a meeting with my therapist in the morning. I just…” his voice trailed off as he looked at you with wide, sad eyes, “You’re okay?”

Your heart ached at his voice as you nodded, opening your arms for him and letting out a sigh of relief when he returned to you for a hug. Reaching your free hand behind him, you rubbed his back comfortingly, “We’re going to make it through this, mark my words.”

He nodded in affirmation as he pulled away, “For my own peace of mind, I’ll sleep on the couch for a while.”

You accepted it, knowing that he needed to deal with this in his own way, he closed the door behind him, effectively leaving you alone. Laying back on the pillows with your icepack still clutched to your face, you sighed, wondering how long it had been since your boyfriend felt any semblance of peace of mind.

[marcyvampire]

SILLY LITTLE BAT

pairings ⸺ Yandere! Platonic! Batfamily x Anti-Hero! Fem!reader.

sinopsis ⸺ In the shadowed halls of Wayne Manor, a girl lost among the darkness seeks the connection she never had. Her mother, a kleptomaniac with a broken heart, vanished, leaving only echoes of empty promises. Surrounded by a family that never sees her, her pain turns into a deafening silence. The void left by her past traps her in a limbo of solitude and sorrow.

One dark night, seeking her own way, she became what she once despised. Now, like the albino bat rejected by its own flock, she flies alone in the twilight. Her pale skin glows in the dark, but her heart still yearns for the warmth of a home she never came to know.

warnings ⸺ Dark Themes, Dead, murdering,Disturbing Content, Unhealthy Obsession, Discrimination, Violence, Blood, LGBT Content, Child Abuse, Kidnapping, Implicit Sexual Content, Mental Illness, Addiction, Suicide, Torture, Corruption, Isolation, Trauma, Phobias, Paranoia, Manipulation

A/N — English is not my first language—Spanish is—so there might be some grammar or spelling mistakes here and there. This is the first part of a story I’m writing for a friend (Isabel, I love you, you brat), and also an experiment to see what it’s like to write on Tumblr. Please support me! :"((

Nobody is coming to save you

Get up.

Your mother was not a good woman, and that was an undeniable fact, heavy as the shadow that covers Gotham City at nightfall. She was a creature of the underworld, one among the specters that wandered under the yoke of crime, walking among dangerous names like Selina Kyle or Harleen Quinzel, yet always remaining in the background, never reaching their fame or infamy.

She was nothing more than a kleptomaniac and a mythomaniac, doomed to live by cunning and deceit. She took advantage of the men who crossed her path, from the lowest criminals, like The Penguin, to the most powerful man in the city: Bruce Wayne.

You never called him Dad. To you, he was always Bruce, and on the rare occasions you addressed him, you did so with distant formality, "Mr. Wayne." Richard, your adoptive brother, found in him a father figure, while to you, he was just another shadow in the mansion, that huge, cold house you arrived at after your mother’s death.

You remember how, time and again, you tried to warn your mother to stop stealing, to stop lying, that those dark paths would inevitably lead her to Arkham Asylum, surrounded by all the lunatics you feared so much, or even worse: to death. But she always responded with a playful smile, stroking your head with her delicate hands, adorned with stolen jewelry and crude tattoos. "Those are just fantasies of an eight-year-old girl," she would say sweetly, while her ring-laden fingers assured you that you needn’t worry, "I will always come back for you," she promised, "because you are the only thing more valuable than any diamond I’ve ever held."

But the cruel truth was that was the last time you saw her. That night she left, and she never returned. It was then that the last vestiges of innocence faded with her absence. From that moment on, you ceased to be a child.

And that was one of the few things you understood with absolute clarity. There were no more empty promises, no more caresses tinged with lies. All that remained was the silence of a life fading away, like a stolen jewel that never returns to its rightful owner.

The only thing you knew after calling the police when your mother didn’t show up after two days was that they found her corpse in a back alley far from Gotham, showing signs of having been beaten and bruised by some underground gang.

Commissioner Gordon searched the entire house for illicit substances and signs of debts to mobsters, but he only ended up finding documents, stolen jewelry, and letters from your mother that were never sent, and most importantly, DNA evidence implicating that the city’s millionaire was your biological father.

From then on, your life was stained with eternal gray, that muted shade that erased all traces of light or shadow. There was no more white or black, only a silent fog that, day by day, enveloped you and dragged you into a madness that seemed inevitable. Gotham itself seemed more alive than the place you called home, although "home" was never the right word.

You didn’t love any of the Wayne family members. Bruce, your biological father, never listened to you. To him, you were always just another shadow, a ghost in the vast mansion that he prioritized over his other children, his "true" heirs. There was always something more important, something more urgent, and your presence faded among the cold walls and the echo of his hurried footsteps. With each passing day, you became more invisible to him, as if your very existence were a mistake he preferred to ignore.

Richard, the perfect brother, was kind on some occasions. He spoke to you courteously, but when you needed him, when you asked him to attend one of your performances, there was always an excuse, something that kept him away, as if your passion and accomplishments were insignificant details in his heroic life.

Jason, on the other hand, despised you from the start. He saw you as an intruder, a child of gold—but not of that pure and valuable gold, but of a dirty and false one, which he always mocked with disdain. And although you never cared for him, when he died, silent tears rolled down your face. It wasn’t out of love, but out of respect for what he represented, for the brutal reality of his fall.

Tim, in contrast, was the most indifferent. To him, you were a nobody, so irrelevant that you weren’t even worth a glance. Spending time with his friends or being the Robin of the moment mattered more than you did. You lived on his periphery, in a limbo where neither your name nor your face seemed to exist.

Cassandra, Stephanie, Barbara… at least they treated you with politeness, but you knew they didn’t really remember who you were. They saw you, smiled at you out of obligation, but deep down you knew they had no idea of your name, your story, your struggle to be more than a shadow in that world.

The worst of all was Damian, your younger half-brother. When he arrived at the mansion, Alfred introduced him to you with that serene formality he always had, and you, driven by an almost desperate impulse, tried to reach out to him. You wanted to offer him the support and affection of an older sister, that warmth you would have longed for in his situation. But all you received in return was a cold response: a katana piercing your abdomen. I wish I could say it was just a metaphor, but no, that wound was as real as the blade that cut your skin.

You would have liked to think that the pain was symbolic, that Damian had only rejected your affection with harsh words or his usual arrogance. But no, it was much more than that. The only thing you received in exchange for your attempt at fraternal love was a stab, a scar you still carry not only on your body but also in your soul. Because in that brutal gesture, you understood that the blood that united you also separated you, sharper than any weapon. And that was how you tried to connect.

You strived to stand out, to learn, to shine in your own ambitions, wishing that your success would be enough to earn you a place, a bit of affection. But no matter how hard you tried, it was never enough. Your talent crashed against indifference, your achievements faded into the air, as if they had no weight in the lives of others.

The only light, the only beacon in that storm of gray, was Alfred. The only one who smiled at you with genuine tenderness, the only one you truly loved. To you, he was the real father, the one who was always there, expecting nothing in return, offering you a silent but firm love. You did call him father, and his presence was the only thing that kept your sanity, the only thing preventing the gray from consuming you completely.

But even that love, so genuine and deep, was not enough to fill the void that your own family left you. And in that void, you continue to float, trapped between the girl you were and the woman you are trying to be, searching for a place you can truly call home.

Y/n's small room, though modest, had always been her refuge. The walls were adorned with unfinished sketches, trophies from various activities, and some paintings she had completed with dedication, showcasing her passion for both manual and performing arts.

The dawn light filtered softly through the curtains, bathing the space in golden tones, giving it a warmth that contrasted with the coldness of the rest of Wayne Manor.

On the desk, a small cake rested on a plate, simple yet made with love. Beside it, Alfred, with his usual understated elegance, watched Y/n with a mixture of nostalgia and concern. He, the only one who seemed to remember her birthday, offered her a delicate professional drawing set, wrapped in smooth, elegant paper.

"Happy birthday, Miss," Alfred said with a gentle smile, although his eyes reflected a sadness that was hard to conceal. "I know how much you love art, so I thought this would be helpful for your new projects."

Y/n took the gift in her hands with a genuine smile. It had been so hard for her to find moments of joy lately, but Alfred's gesture filled her with a warmth in her chest that she hadn't experienced in a long time. She placed the gift into one of the many brown boxes she had prepared for her upcoming move.

"Thank you, Alfred. It's perfect," she said, examining the set carefully, as if each detail were a reminder of the affection he held for her. "It will help me a lot... although, well," she sighed, as if searching for the right words. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that." Alfred raised an eyebrow, attentive, as she continued, glancing at the small space that had been her home within the vast mansion.

"Today... today is not just my birthday. It's the day I leave here." Her voice was firm, yet there was a sense of liberation in it, as if this were a long-awaited step. "I am finally no longer a Wayne. I go back to being a L/n."

Silence filled the room for a moment, heavy and dense. Alfred clasped his hands, striving to maintain his composure.

"Miss, I can't help but feel a certain unease hearing this. Are you sure this is what you want? This house, though empty in many ways, has always been your home..."

"Home?" Y/n looked at him with a mix of sadness and determination. "This house has never been my home, Alfred. Not like it was for Dick, nor even for Bruce. I have always been a stranger here, the daughter of a woman who never fit into this world, the bastard child. My mother taught me to find my own path, to not cling to what doesn’t belong to me... and being here, being called Wayne, has never belonged to me." Alfred sighed softly, turning his gaze toward the window. He knew there was truth in her words, but that didn’t lessen the pain of her leaving. "I know it’s hard to understand," Y/n continued, "but for the first time in a long time, I feel happy, Alfred. I’ve graduated, college is just around the corner, and I want to start anew. I want to find what truly makes me, me... not what others expect of me."

The old butler remained silent for a few moments, nodding slowly. He knew he couldn't retain her, that it was not his place to interfere in the young woman's dreams. But still, he couldn’t help but feel a pang in his heart at the thought of the house being even emptier without her. "I just wish you find what you’re looking for, Miss. And if you ever need a place to return to... this door will always be open for you."

Y/n stepped closer to him, gently hugging him, something she had rarely done. "Thank you, Alfred," she whispered against his shoulder. "You will always be my family, but I need this. I need to discover who I am outside of this last name."

The old butler felt the lump in his throat as he tightened the embrace a little longer before letting her go. He knew that deep down, she was doing the right thing. But that didn’t make it hurt any less to see her leave.

"Alfred, can you call the movers? I’ll be leaving tonight," Y/n said as she closed the last box with trembling hands, her gaze lost in the empty corners of the room she once considered her refuge. The butler, ever serene, nodded with his unwavering calmness.

"Don't worry, Miss, I assure you they will be here on time." His voice was soft, almost an echo of the ancient walls of the mansion, as if he himself were part of that structure that had seen so many comings and goings, so many lives broken and healed in silence.

Alfred turned halfway to leave, but Y/n's voice stopped him, broken yet sweet, like a melody at sunset. "Alfred..."

The man turned slowly, his eyes filled with paternal warmth, though always contained behind a formal gesture. "Yes, Miss?" he replied, with that tranquility that had always brought Y/n peace in her worst moments.

She took a breath, feeling how the words she had kept for so long fought to come out, to break the shell she had built since childhood. "I’ve never told you, but... thank you. Thank you for being the father I never had, for being there when no one else was."

For a moment, the silence in the room was heavier than all the accumulated boxes, deeper than any word. Alfred, who had been a witness to so many confessions and secrets in that house, stood still, his eyes shining with an emotion he rarely showed. "Miss," he murmured, his voice slightly choked, "it was an honor and a privilege to take care of you. If I ever gave you anything close to what you deserved, then my life has had true purpose."

Y/n smiled sadly, nodding slowly. "You did, Alfred. You did. And for that, I will always carry you with me, even if I leave here."

The butler slightly bowed his head in respect, swallowing any emotion that might betray his composure. "Wherever you go, you will always have a home here, Miss."

"I know," she said, though in her heart, she knew she wouldn’t return.

And as Alfred left the room to make the call, Y/n let out a long sigh, as if with it, she were leaving behind a part of herself, a part she could no longer carry with her.

Life in Gotham is like constantly walking on the edge of a razor blade. The city never sleeps, always alert, always dangerous, and for someone with the Wayne surname, the risks multiply. It has been a year since you left the mansion, trying to erase any ties that bound you to that life, desperately wishing the name would fade into the echo of the dirty streets and crumbling buildings. But it's not that easy. The name Wayne remains an indelible mark that the media and the people of Gotham refuse to let fade. The forgotten child, the silent accident of billionaire Bruce Wayne. And although you try to live as if you don’t exist under that shadow, the weight of the legacy haunts you.

You left with little, barely enough money to rent a small apartment in one of the worst corners of the city. You share the space with a friend, a plant-loving girl who has filled every nook of the place with leaves and pots, as if trying to make green defy the constant darkness of Gotham. You get along well with her; her love for nature is almost an antithesis to the chaos of the city, and she has taught you that even in the hardest concrete, something can bloom. She always accompanied you on the coldest, loneliest nights, giving you a warmth that, although ethereal, was very welcome. But still, life is not easy. You barely survive, spending the little you have on cheap food and paying the rent. There are days when the cold seeps through the poorly sealed windows, and you wonder if it was really better to be in the mansion instead of this little trench. However, you prefer this rough freedom to the soulless luxury of Wayne Manor.

Freedom, however, comes at a price. It wasn't enough to distance yourself, to change your life, or even to always carry a knife for defense. Gotham does not forget. People recognize you in the shadows, whisper your name, and approach you, sometimes with curiosity and other times with disdain. You have been beaten more than once. Some just for being a Wayne, others because they think they can extort you, even though they have no idea you can barely get by. The scars on your body bear witness to those beatings, but you refuse to give up. You get up every morning, despite the pain, and continue on your way. You don’t need Batman. You don’t need Bruce. You learned long ago that he wouldn't come to save you.

That night, like so many others, you were heading to the subway for your night shift, with the hood of your coat covering your face, trying to go unnoticed. The sound of the tracks echoed in your ears, a constant reminder of the city's hustle. You had gotten used to walking fast, avoiding eye contact, as if each step was a small battle won against the city. But this time, something was different.

"So it was true, the little Wayne girl is roaming the city... how lovely." The raspy, mocking voice rang out beside you, cutting through the heavy air of the train station. The man speaking wore a suit that, at first glance, seemed elegant, but there was something about his extreme thinness, his skin clinging to his bones and his disheveled hair, that made him look more like a specter of Gotham than a distinguished figure. A ghost from the shadows that had stalked you since you set foot on the streets.

If it weren't for his gaunt appearance and unsettling aura, you might have mistaken him for one of your father's employees. "I'm not a Wayne anymore," you said disdainfully, your voice sharp like the edge of a dagger refusing to be touched. "If you want money, I don’t have any. And Mr. Wayne wouldn’t give a cent for me either."

Your gaze drifted to the station clock. 8 minutes until the train that would take you away from this corner of Gotham, far from the shadows and faces that always seemed to recognize you.

The man let out a dry, raspy laugh that sent chills down your spine. "I don’t want your money, pretty girl," he replied, moving closer, invading your space with the same familiarity that Gotham’s filth slipped into every corner. "You’re worth more than that." You felt his calloused, scarred hand rest on your hip, with a pressure that was neither violent nor friendly. The contact filled you with disgust.

7 minutes.

You clenched your fist, your jaw tight as you struggled to maintain your composure. "I don’t want sex either, idiot," you spat, your words loaded with contained fury. Your hand subtly slid toward your bag, where your knife lay, waiting to be used.

6 minutes.

The man didn’t flinch. In fact, he let out a low, mocking laugh. "And I don’t want that either, little girl," he murmured, his cold, deep blue eyes scrutinizing you as if they could read every dark corner of your soul. "I want something more from you."

5 minutes.

"What do you want then?" you asked, forcing yourself to keep your voice steady, even as the ice of fear began to creep down your spine. Your eyes scrutinized him, searching his gaze for any hint of his true intentions, but all you saw was darkness.

4 minutes.

He let out a long, chilling laugh, tightening his grip on your hip. "Do you know what I want, Y/n?"

3 minutes.

His voice dropped, as if his words were a cursed secret the wind refused to carry away. "I want you."

2 minutes.

The world seemed to stop. You knew there was no time to run. There was no time to pull out the knife or to scream. It was as if the clock itself had conspired against you, reducing those last minutes to mere seconds.

1 minute.

The blow was sharp, a flash of excruciating pain at the back of your head. The cold metal of the station, the hum of the city, everything faded abruptly. The last thought that crossed your mind, before the world vanished into darkness, was that this time, you didn’t expect Batman to save you. It wasn’t a mere thief or a street threat that was taking you.

Gotham, with all its cruelty, always had new ways to remind you that there is no escape.

That night, when the Gotham subway stopped at the station, there was no one to pick up.

The mansion felt emptier than ever, like a deserted and cold labyrinth, where each hallway seemed to stretch into an infinite tunnel, devouring the light.

The silence was overwhelming, an oppression that enveloped every corner, as if even the ancient walls had run out of words. It was so heavy that the few who remained in the mansion couldn’t help but move uncomfortably, trying to fill that void with something, anything.

Bruce Wayne walked through those same hallways with a strange feeling, as if something was missing, though he didn’t know what. An unease, a persistent discomfort that he couldn’t shake off.

He had been like this for months, with that absence haunting his mind, a gap he couldn't identify. And then, suddenly, like a gust of icy wind, the truth struck him.

You.

His daughter.

His little daughter.

How long had it been since he last saw you? When was the last time he heard your laughter, the one that always seemed too sarcastic, too filled with resentment? He stopped abruptly, frowning. Why couldn’t he remember you? He couldn’t bring to mind a clear image of your face, not even how you used to look at him... why? How could he have forgotten you like that?

Damn.

It was as if time had stopped. It had been a year, maybe more, since he had really thought about you. He felt a pang of guilt pierce his chest, a heavy, silent guilt that dragged him into the abyss of his own negligence. Not knowing what else to do, he began to check the rooms, one after another.

Each door he opened was another blow to his conscience. Where was your room? The more he searched, the more confused he felt. The mansion was enormous, but how could he have forgotten where you slept? How was it possible that he didn’t know where you lived in the house where both of you grew up? Had you been here all this time?

Each door he opened was identical to the last, as if all the rooms had fused into one.

None showed a trace of you.

None seemed to have a hint of your presence. Didn’t you decorate your room? He thought frantically, didn’t you even mark it as yours? Panic began to take hold of him. Anxiety wrapped around him like a fist tightening on his chest. Were you still living in the mansion? Or had you left without saying a word, like a shadow fading at dawn? But... no, you hadn’t mentioned anything. You hadn’t said you were leaving. Or had you? And if you had, why didn’t he remember? How could he have ignored you for so long that now he didn’t even know if you were still under the same roof?

“Ah!” he exclaimed in a whisper, unable to contain the dread he felt.

Frustration consumed him from within. He stopped in the middle of the hallway, breathing heavily, and the echo of his voice faded into the empty walls. He tried to remember something, anything about you, about the last time they spoke, about how you were... but everything was blurry, as if his mind was betraying him, hiding you behind an impenetrable fog.

How could he have forgotten so much?

He brought his hands to his head, trying to calm himself, but only felt more confusion, more desperation. The mansion, which had once been his home, now felt like a strange and foreign place.

Had you been the one who made it feel like home? The question echoed in his mind, but he had no answer. Just more questions. More uncertainties. Finally, he let his arms fall, exhausted. He had checked almost all the rooms and had found not a trace of you. Not a clue. Not a sign that you had been there. And at that moment, something dark and painful began to settle in his heart.

Had you ever really been there?

Then something caught his attention as he passed by the cleaning room. In a dusty corner, next to a forgotten bag, something was protruding. Something small, old, and faded. He bent down and pulled it from the dirty clothes. It was a stuffed animal, or what was left of one. The faded black of its suit left no doubt. It was a figure of Batman, but worn down by time, battered to the point of looking forgotten.

Bruce's eyes were fixed on the small piece of fabric hanging from the doll's neck. A tag.

Your name.

Your name, handwritten, in ink that was already fading.

Bruce felt a lump in his throat, a mix of guilt and rage. How could he have forgotten something so important?

He clutched the doll tightly, as if doing so would return a piece of you to him, but instead of comfort, he only felt more emptiness. Where were you? He ran to Alfred, who looked at him with a mix of concern and pity.

"Alfred..." Bruce said, his voice breaking. "Where is she? Where is my daughter?"

The butler, with his always serene face, seemed to age suddenly. A long silence settled between them, as if time was fading away. "Mr. Bruce, I didn’t mean to..." Alfred lowered his gaze. "I didn’t want to burden you with that truth, but... it’s time you know."

Bruce felt a chill run down his spine. Truth? What truth?

"She left almost a year ago. She didn’t say where. She just... she took all her belongings, though they weren’t many, and left. She said she didn’t want to be a burden. That you and the other family members had too many things to worry about."

Bruce took a step back, as if the words had physically struck him. Did she have enough age to leave? A burden? Never, not for a second, did he think that of you, of his little daughter who, even though she wasn’t wanted, he embraced under his wing just like Damian.

You were never a burden.

...or were you?

No, he refused to acknowledge it; he just... he hadn’t spent time with you because Gotham needed him!

But when you needed him, where was Batman?

Where was Bruce Wayne when his only biological daughter needed him?

"Alfred, do you know anything about Y/n?" the hero asked, worry clear on his face.

Alfred didn’t look at him; he only stared into nothingness. "...I haven’t heard anything about her for two months...

And honestly... I'm starting to think...

that she might be lost to us forever..."

A/N — This is definitely apart from being my first official Tumblr post, it is also my first DC post and especially the first from the Lord of the Night xD

Don't hesitate to ask me anything if you want.

Isabel, I dedicate this to you, my love. Eat more to be well, you fucking anorexic, don't suck.

take a bath!

inspiration: @acid-ixx with his Again & Again series, @gotham-daydreams' work, @i-cant-sing's work and @klemen-tine's work, be sure to check them out!

[ellecdc]

hello!! its me again😜, I've had this hyperfixation on poly!maraudersx reader x lily trope . I was wondering you can make an ff of like the reader is in another house and is a quidditch player, and theres a match between gryffindor and her perspective house and she feels really anxious because if her house won she would let them down and if gryffindor won she would feel guilty ro celebrate with them. 🩷🩷

this was a very cute idea!! thank you for the prompt <3

poly!marauders + Lily x fem!reader who plays for Hufflepuff [1.2k words]

CW: reader is in Hufflepuff, no house rivalry between our lovers

This game had been causing you more anxiety than you cared to admit.

Somehow, this far into your relationship with the Gryffindor’s, you haven’t had to play against the Gryffindor house since the season started, which seemed very odd considering they were one of only three teams that you could play.

But alas, you had managed to avoid the awkwardness of not only cheering against your partners’ team, but actually playing against two of them for a blissful stretch of time. 

Your luck had run out, however, and you could avoid it no longer as the Hufflepuff keeper. 

You found yourself in a tough position; if Hufflepuff lost, you’d feel horribly traitorous to be celebrating the Gryffindor team, but you couldn’t not celebrate when two of your boyfriend’s played for the team. However, if Hufflepuff won, you’d feel terribly guilty celebrating, feeling as though you were rubbing your victory in their faces. 

Either way, you were bound to lose.

So when Hufflepuff won, your feet had barely touched the ground before you were leaping from your broom and racing off the pitch, bypassing the showers at the quidditch pitch and fleeing to your dormitory, quickly showering and changing and making it to the kitchens before the no doubt raucous after-party could begin in the Hufflepuff common room.

This was better, you decided. This way you wouldn’t be rubbing your win in your partners’ faces; Remus and Lily wouldn’t have to worry about hurting Sirius and James’ feelings, and Sirius and James wouldn’t have to pretend to be happy for your sake. 

“Should Miss not be in her dormitory to celebrate?” Feenky asked as you watched her prepare a batch of pumpkin juice. 

“It’s just a party of one tonight, Feenky.” You reassured her. If she seemed unconvinced, she didn’t mention it.

“Well, Feenky thinks that Feenky has something for an athlete such as yourself around here somewhere.” She mumbled mostly to herself as she abandoned her task to search for something in some sort of storage closet. 

“There you are, angel!” You heard James shout, startling you so badly that you flinched almost violently and sent a mug of pumpkin juice toppling off of the kitchen island that you were leaning against.

With a lazy flick of her wand (and a haughty smirk), Lily quickly righted your cup and set it gently back down on the island before it could make contact with the ground. 

You grimaced as you turned to face your four partners, ready to be scolded for running off the pitch without saying hello to anyone, for winning the game, or for hiding, you weren’t sure. But you found your mouth falling open in shock as you turned to see your four Gryffindor’s completely decked out in Hufflepuff colours. 

“Wha-” You started, but quickly had the air knocked out of you when Sirius pulled you into him and spun you around.

“You were fucking fantastic!” He exclaimed as he put you back down onto your feet, hardly giving you a chance to catch your breath before he was pulling you in for a searing kiss.

It was only when you finally pulled away from Sirius (only to be pulled backwards into James’ front) did you notice that his hair was still wet from his own post-game shower.

“What are you guys doing down here?” You managed finally.

“We rushed after the game to come down for your after-party!” James responded for you, pressing a kiss to your jaw before relinquishing his hold on you when Lily came in for her own. 

“You really did look phenomenal out there, darling.” She murmured before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “I wasn’t surprised, though. If anyone can give these two a well earned run for their money, it’s you.” 

“Thank Merlin.” Remus muttered with a fond eye roll, ignoring one indignant ‘oi!’ from James and one ‘we duel at dawn, Moony’ from Sirius as he leaned over to press a kiss to the crown of your head. “I’m so proud of you.” He continued earnestly.

“You guys aren’t upset?” You asked, hating how small you sounded. Hating even more the way the four of them nearly recoiled in surprise before sharing confused glances with one another.

“Upset?” Sirius repeated bemusedly. “Why on earth would we be upset?” 

You shrugged your shoulders in an attempt to appear nonchalant as your face heated up nearly painfully in embarrassment. “Well…I-”

“Angel,” James cooed as he placed a hand on each of your upper arms and forced you to look at him, “did you think we were going to be upset that you beat us?”

“Well-” You attempted to explain, but Lily interjected.

“Can you blame the poor girl? You two are not gracious losers in the slightest.” She taunted, squealing when Sirius jabbed his fingers into her sides and tickled her in punishment for ‘the absolute slander you ridiculous, beautiful witch’.

“Nah.” James offered casually. “I’m happy to lose to our girl any day. Everyone else better watch their backs, though.”

“You guys are insane.” You sighed not unhappily, leaning back into James’ embrace as he nestled his face into the juncture of your neck.

“Is that why you’re hiding in here, dove? You weren’t going to celebrate at all?” Remus asked you softly, and Lily and Sirius both paused in their banter in order to tune back into the conversation. 

“It felt sort of…rude…” You admitted shyly, and Remus’ fond ‘awe’ and Lily’s saccharine ‘our sweet girl’ did nothing to tame the fire now roaring beneath your cheeks as James tightened his embrace around your middle and spun you around.

“Well now we’re just going to celebrate you that much harder! Our sweet little puffle.” He nearly sang as he placed you back onto your feet, Sirius arching his brow and gesturing to himself. 

“You haven't commented on how good we look, dollface.”

You weren’t even sure where they all got Hufflepuff jumpers, cardigans, and scarves from, but you couldn’t bring yourself to ask when they looked so sodding cute.

“I think I look smashing in yellow.” Sirius continued simply, nodding at his own decree as he looked to the rest of you for agreement. 

“Honestly? I think it might be Rem’s new colour.” Lily stated earnestly, and the four of you got to watch Remus blush furiously as you all fussed over how well he wore the colour yellow. 

“Alright, alright. Enough chit chat.” Remus demanded; both an attempt to redirect the conversation from himself and an attempt to leave the kitchens. “We have a party to attend and a Hufflepuff to celebrate.” 

You accepted his extended hand and he pulled it up to his lips for a kiss before the five of you made your way out of the kitchens and followed the sounds of the thrumming bass pulsing from your common room.

[ham1lton]

NASTY GIRL!

— pairings: oscar piastri x reader.

— faceclaim: rihanna <3

— summary: slut, whore, bitch - all the words that have been used to describe famous party girl yn yln. so when you show up to the grid with a shiny diamond ring on your hand, people are trying to figure out just who would choose you.

— warnings: misogynistic language and attitudes about yn’s behaviour and actions. not from any of the main characters in this au though!

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

enews: y/n may not be releasing new music anytime soon, but she’s definitely making waves—this time under the sea. the party girl was spotted scuba diving in italy with her usual mixed-gender crew, proving once again that vacationing is her real full-time job. 🎶 or should we say, lack of? #priorities #wherethemusicat?

view all comments

badgalyn: y’all stay on my dick 😭 hop off.

-> user1: LMFAOOOOOO

user2: can a girl not holiday now?

user3: idgaf if she’s partying. she’s been working since she was 16. have a mimosa for me babe <3

-> user4: bffr. she just sings into a mic for a living. that’s not a job.

-> user5: every job is a job. and every job has it’s downsides. she’s been touring every year since her debut almost ten years ago. let her breathe 😭

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

liked by ynupdates, ferrarigirlies and 2,737,839 others.

f1gossip: look who’s in the ferrari garage today! the singer/songwriter yn on break from… well, her eternal break. and what is that we saw on her hot girl walk through the paddock? a diamond ring? oop 🙊

view all 277,828 comments

user1: LEAVE YN ALONE !1!1!1!111

user2: she’s engaged to charles and they’re gonna have the most gorgeous kids!!

-> user3: um… could be carlos?

-> user2: no 😜

user3: nahhhhh no way she’s engaged 😷

-> user4: like c’mon. it’s probably a rich ceo from behind the scenes. no self respecting f1 driver would want HER 😒

-> user5: like who would actually marry her?

-> user6: u sound so miserable 😭

-> user7: like what fucking weirdos LMFAO 😭 focus on yourselves.

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

liked by ynsgirlie, oscarspiastri and 1,108,890 others.

ham1ltonshaderoom: singer/songwriter yn was invited by ferrari to watch the baku grand prix but was seen relaxing in the mclaren garage after a photo op. the moment went viral on social media, what do you think of yn’s disappearance ham1ltons?

view all 18,992 comments

user1: idgaf. she can do whatever she wants.

user2: she’s so fucking ungrateful my god.

user3: love her!!!!

user4: who cares?? i just wanna know who put that ring on her finger???

user5: RELEASE THE ALBUM @/BADGALYN

-> user6: RELEASE THAT SHIT NOWW

badgalyn: is it illegal for me to move from place to place now? like damn 😭

-> user7: they stay on ur ass like

-> user8: WHO DOES THAT BIG FAT RING BELONG TO ?!!?!!

-> user8: I KNOW U SEE THIS SHIT

-> user8: ANSWER ME 😭😭

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

liked by landonorris, badgalyn and 1,090,123 others.

f1: oscar piastri is your ‘24 baku grand prix winner!

view all 80,828 comments

user1: OSCAR GIRLIES EVERYWHERE CHEERED

user2: YASSSSSSSS

user3: SO PROUD WOOOOOOO

user4: YN WHAT ARE U DOING HERE 😭

nicolepiastri: that’s my son btw 🍾🥂

user5: DID Y’ALL SEE YN RUNNING OUT TO KISS OSCAR?????

-> user6: WHAT?2&2&

-> user7: GIRL IT’S ALL OVER TWT

-> user7: https://twitter.com/ynsgirl/status/827373832992125

-> user8: oh… they in love frfr

-> user9: SICK OMG SICK SICK SICK

-> user9: HATE SEEING HAPPY COUPLES

-> user10: the way he carries her?? ims ick

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

INTERVIEW W/ YN YLN.

by james collins.

she walks into the room like she owns it, a diamond-studded one of a kind necklace hanging off her neck, and a confidence that can only come from being at the top of her game. y/n yln is more than just a household name at this point—she’s a cultural phenomenon. whether it's topping the charts, turning heads with her bold fashion choices, or making headlines for her unapologetic lifestyle, y/n is everywhere.

GQ: let’s get right into it. you’ve never been one to shy away from controversy. you've been called everything from a "party girl" to… well, a lot worse. how do you deal with the constant slut-shaming?

Y/N: (laughs) i mean, what can i say? people are gonna talk whether i’m out at the club or chilling at home in sweats. they see me having fun, and they can’t handle it. honestly, i don’t care. i love my life. if i want to party, i’ll party. if i want to make a million-dollar deal the next morning, i’ll do that too. being called a slut? whatever. it’s just a word. a word can’t hold me down.

GQ: that’s the attitude that’s made you so iconic. but it seems like the more successful you get, the more people try to tear you down. how do you stay grounded amidst all the noise?

Y/N: honestly, it’s all about knowing who you are. like, i know what i bring to the table. the opinions of strangers on the internet? they don’t pay my bills, they don’t run my career. i’ve got a solid circle around me—my family, my team, my people. they keep it real with me, and that’s what matters. plus, i’ve got my own inner voice. if i let every hater get to me, i wouldn’t be where i am now. you gotta block out the noise and keep doing you.

GQ: you’re definitely doing that, and it shows in your music. speaking of which, your last album broke records and you’ve hinted that the next one’s even more personal. what’s the inspiration behind it?

Y/N: oh, this next album is gonna hit different. it’s like a reflection of the last few years—everything i’ve been through, the highs, the lows, and the lessons. i’ve been writing a lot about love, discovery, identity, and power. there’s a track on there that’s straight-up about how people have tried to label me my whole life, and i’m just like, ‘f**k that, i define me.’ there’s some deep stuff in there, but also bangers that’ll make you wanna dance your ass off. it’s a mix, just like me.

GQ: there’s been a lot of talk about one specific song that fans think is about your alleged relationship. care to spill the tea on that?

YN: (smiling) oh, you mean *that* song? (laughs) yeah, people are good at picking up on things. look, i’m not saying too much, but let’s just say it’s a vibe. relationships—especially when you’re in the spotlight—are complicated, and i’m not afraid to write about it. but you’ll have to listen to the track to get the full story.

GQ: fair enough. now, let’s address the gorgeous and expensive elephant in the room—that ring. fans have been speculating non-stop about your engagement. can you confirm or deny the rumors?

Y/N: (grinning) ah, you’re nosy! but yeah, the ring’s real, and it’s from someone very special. look, i’ve never been one to hide anything, but i also love keeping certain things close to my chest. all i’m saying is… things are good. real good.

GQ: the internet’s been trying to piece it together, especially after you were spotted at the mclaren paddock with oscar piastri. any comments on that?

YN: (laughs) you are really trying to get me in trouble! look, i support my friends, i show up for them, and they show up for me. that’s all i’m saying for now. but if people want to talk, let them talk. i’m busy living my life.

GQ: fair enough! last question—what’s next for y/n yln?

Y/N: taking over the world, obviously. (laughs) but for real, the album is coming soon, and i’m working on some new projects that’ll surprise a lot of people. i’m not just a singer, i’m building an empire. music, fashion, business—it’s all on the horizon. so, buckle up, we’re just getting started.

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

tagged: @/badgalyn

liked by ynswifey, ham1ltonshaderoom and 4,938,983 others

gqmagazine: from island girl to international superstar: our newest covergirl yn yln talks slutshaming, her upcoming album and wedding rumours in this months gq magazine. link in bio! 🔗

view all 2,737,938 comments

oscarpiastri: real good is an understatement 😉

-> user1: WHAT)2&/@/

-> user2: yn being all cryptic and oscar straight up like ‘yeah we together and what about it?’

-> user3: OSCAR HELLO?2&2

landonorris: am i invited to the wedding?

-> landonorris: hellloooo @/badgalyn????

-> landonorris: i’m sosoooooo drunk @/badgalyn

-> landonorris: YYYYYNNNNNNN 😭😭😭

user4: she’s such a bad bitch idgaf

-> user5: ‘i love my life. if i want to party, i’ll party. if i want to make a million-dollar deal the next morning, i’ll do that too. being called a slut? whatever. it’s just a word. a word can’t hold me down.’ — AS YOU SHOULD QUEEN!!!!

user6: y’all … oscaryn is growing on me fr

user7: this is so wattpad trope i love this for them

user8: YN RELEASE THE ALBUM!!!!

user9: MIC DROP FROM OSCAR YUP YUP!

user10: she’s so gorgeous… her face card omg

user11: Y/N YLN AND OSCAR FREAKING PIASTRI ARE ENGAGED AND CONFIRMED IT IN THE MOST CASUAL WAY?? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO FUNCTION TODAY?!?!

user12: oscaryn engagement. yn6 being in the works. more pics of yn’s face card. ynnies, we won today.

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

— oscar taglist: @papayadays @assholeinatrenchcoat @mxdi0 @lillysbigwilly @liberty-barnes @yelenasloverrrrr @hiireadstuff @starz4me1 @mvk1ma @lozzamez3 @dear-fifi @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @styl1shl1v @whyamireadingthis @halleest @s4misbetter @llando4norris @chezmardybum @ivyvlair @isthatacandle @luvsforme @fabulouskk01 @littlegrapejuice @anotherblackreader @laur20a23 @greantii @sumlovesjude @sageispunk @mindless-rock @mehrmonga @ravisinghs-wife @six-call @notyaslol @1-800-love-me @nzygftoji @dilflover44 @ilivbullyingjeongin (all works taglist in comments/reblog. if you see yourself tagged and you don’t want to be or you don’t see yourself tagged and you want to be — refill out the taglist in my pinned post! <3)

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

[tbaluver]

Hi...I love your writing so much, Big Fan >_< ♡

Can I ask about what it's like to shower with LNDS men?

Thank U

Showering With Them- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre/ tags: MDNI, 18+, suggestive content. short NSFW is right below the SFW ! (p.s sorry if this format was confusing ! just wanted to add both in this one) a/n: hihi anonnie! thank you for supporting my work i always appreciate it so much ! ♡⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝ i hope this was okay and that you enjoy reading this and my other future works ! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡ i dunno but i might make a shower smut after writing these LMAO anyways gonna post another headcanon in a few hours after this (∩˃o˂∩)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier: (SFW)

More of a shower person than a bath person because there were too many times to count on how many times you saw him asleep in the bathtub.

Almost falls asleep when you massage his scalp with soap as he wraps his hands on your waist to keep balanced. It just felt too relaxing and he couldn't help but flutter his eyes closed

Has a fair share of wash products but he ends up using yours because yours smell better and it smells like you.

He loves it when you clean him, it feels such a safe and intimate space between the two of you. You hum softly as you work gently against his scalp that you lathered. He felt so safe, so warm, in the space that you two created that he eases into the relaxation.

Loves the feeling of you every time he grazes his hands over your body. Obviously he’ll make sure to wash you as well. He’ll make sure that the soap doesn’t get in your eyes. Sometimes the two of you stand and hug, enjoying each other presence, while the water pours over the two of you-until the water gets cold.

Xavier: (NSFW)

He can't help it. You'll feel his hard-on when he's pressed up behind you. Ruts into you very slowly against your ass as he wraps around you while his hand is planted on your thigh to control the lazy pace. His moans would invade your ear as shaky breaths escape your lips.

Zayne: (SFW)

Another intimate time for the two of you.

When he’s coming home from work, he’s basically putty in your hands. You didn’t need to ask twice. He would barely have any energy to eat dinner or shower. He’s so touchy when you’re helping him wash him off while he lowly murmurs in your ear ‘thank you’s’

The type of man that would admire your body as he washes you with the body soap and shampoo. He has seen your body many times and has memorized every detail of you. But each time he sees you, it's like discovering you anew again. His eyes trail down as his hands lower, lower, and lower down your body as he washes you with the body soap.

Helps you wash your back and any hard places for you to reach and you do the same for him as well.

When you offer to help him wash his hair, he leans down, and you lather it with extra soap, laughing at how cute he looks. He doesn’t mind this at all, he finds your reaction to be adorable whenever you do this.

When he washes your hair, he is always so gentle. “Close your eyes for me, my love.” He’ll say softly as his hands carefully knead shampoo into your hair before washing it all away. He'll make sure none of it goes into your eyes.

Once you both finish washing, he turns off the shower and steps out to grab your towel. You both dry each other off, making sure every drop of moisture is gone and helps you put on your robe.

Zayne: (NSFW)

One finger would be rolling on your nipple while the other hand works through your folds. His mouth would be sucking and swirling on your breasts.

He'll use the shower bench to sit and to meet your height to suck on your breasts but will also use that opportunity to let you ride him.

Rafayel: (SFW)

Takes a long shower and I’m talking hours. He most definitely hogs the water and leaves you cold behind him. Has way too much showering products than you but he’ll definitely share them with you

Jokes aside, he would not stop caressing every inch and curve of your body when he sees you glistening with the water.

Loves to wrap his arms around you from behind. He’ll trail kisses on your shoulder to your ear while whispering how cute you look  before burying his face in the crook of your neck.

Lets you try all his expensive washes and you two would experiment every shower on which is the best

Would tell you to wash him and he loves it when you wash his hair. The way your fingers scrub the shampoo and your nails massaging his scalp, felt like heaven to him. He’ll rest his head on your shoulder as you wash the suds out and he’ll have a content smile resting on his lips.

When the two of you are finished drying up, he'll make sure to pick the best moisturizer for the two of you before you both get dressed

Rafayel: (NSFW)

Round two. After you both finish having sex in bed or wherever, you’ll find him against you again all naked and wet. His arousal is more heightened in the water. He just needs his pretty girl again after the mess you made on his cock

Loves how the water slides and glistens down between your bodies

Sylus: (SFW)

The type to say, “Why waste water when we can just shower together.” And I fear he does have a point so that’s why you both shower together often.

He likes to stand behind you most of the time because this allows him to place his chin on your head as the water falls onto the both of you.

He is most definitely going to get handsy using the soapy water. He’ll moves his hand further down to rub your butt and give it a light squeeze

He loves to put the lather of soap on your nose or place a bunch on your hair just to see your reaction. He also finds it amusing to see you try to do the same with him but you can’t because of your height difference. It usually ends up in a bubble war between the two of you.

He helps dries you off first before you help him dry him off. He'll lower his head so you can ruffle the towel on his head.

When it was his turn to wash his hair, he would lean down, a smile curling on his lips as he gazed at your face while you carefully shampoo into his hair

“Sy close your eyes”

“Why would I do that when I want to stare at my pretty girl?”

Sylus: (NSFW)

You turn him on easily so showering with him feels like he has a permanent hard on. Once you step in the shower, he’ll let you get warm and wet before he starts  rubbing up on you. He just loves the feeling of your bodies pressed against each other, especially since you both are wet.

Pins you against the glass door of the shower and takes you from behind. His right hand finds your breast, squeezing them and pinching your hardening buds in the warm water while his left hand is on the plush of your ass. Sometimes he'll press you up against the wall and have your legs wrapped around him so you don't slip, just let him do all the work as he ruts into you

[tojisun]

that one post about dadbod simon service topping but also him holding you by your hips/waist and grinding your clit against his tummy when he’s bottomed out and smiling so softly at the little noises you let out and cooing at you about how good you’re being and dadbod simon telling his puppy to take what they need and detonates and leaves this ask all over your ceiling

cw: daddy kink

holy shit.

this would have him murmuring, “shh. shh, baby. breathe f’me, yeah? c’mon kid, breathe f’me.” while he slowly moves your body so that you’re rutting onto him.

your hardened clit bumps against the pudge of his gut, making you mewl because s’too much and not enough at the same time, and he just coos as your tears spill like jaded glass.

and you’re still shaking on top of him when simon pulls his hands away, only to click his tongue in quiet scolding at the resounding whine you let out, dejected by his actions. he purses his lips after, and his eyes are all furrowed in faux disappointment.

it makes him look so mean.

simon wipes away a cascading tear before cupping your cheek.

“y’ve got to work for what y’want, pup,” he breathes out in a quiet tut. “gotta show me that y’mean it when y’say y’need daddy.”

there it was—the blatant use of your desires, crooning it like it’s a dirty secret that only the two of you are privy to. and he still looks at you with those pursed lips as though his cock didn’t twitch at the playful tone he uses, like the patronizing lilt in his words didn’t turn him on too.

but you’re so twitchy, and his sweet pup, that all that his taunts evoke is a resolute nod and a quiet puff of your breaths. simon murmurs something unintelligible, all of it is lost in the overwhelming affection it came with, before he pulls his hands away again to watch you.

make no mistake—his eyes are just as greedy as his hands. just because he is not touching you right now, at this moment, doesn’t mean simon isn’t mapping the stretch of your fat, and the ripple of your skin, and the tensing of your muscles as you ride up-up-up, until you are just hovering above the head of his cock.

you had planted your hands on the plane of his stomach, your fingers digging into his fat and you had to rip your eyes away from the beautiful sight it makes—it was always so beautiful when it’s your turn to leave a dimpling touch—to look at him. simon’s biting at his bottom lip to contain his smile. he sees the question in your eyes; the way you’re still asking for permission like the good pup you are. he lets out a quiet chuckle and gives a single nod. then, you’re dropping down.

pleasure explodes from within you, your mind pressing against the cages of your skull at the ripping intensity, and simon didn’t need to say more, do more, before you begin to ride him in earnest, using him to chase your orgasm.

he’s offered himself up to you, after all—

oh, what a good daddy he is.

[giannaln4]

I Missed You

lando norris x fem reader

summary: You missed seeing Lando being happy after a race, and you couldn't wait to tell him how proud you were.  (1.4k words)

warnings: fluff, stablished relationship, a bit of mclaren slander

a/n: when i tell you i loved this idea SO SO much. i’m not too sure i’m happy with how this turned out but i really hope you guys enjoy it 🩷 i apologise for posting this just before the race but it was a bit hard to get started for some reason 😭 anyway pls let me know what you think!!

check out the original request here!

↺ back to navigation — send me a request!

The weekend in Monza was one you were hoping to forget. The tension in the air reflected not only in the team but also in the comments people were making about it, having even sports commentators and content creators question McLaren’s entire strategy to keep their fighting position in the WCC and also have a shot at the WDC. 

Lando’s demeanour immediately after getting off the car was something you would never forget, though, even if you tried. It was pretty obvious for everyone, even if he tried his hardest to never say something bad about his team and his teammate. That team was his home anyway. He had been with McLaren even before his F1 career started, and even after weekends like this one, he would never doubt he wanted to achieve great things with them.

That is probably what made it harder for him. This year they were competing not only for points and podiums but for something bigger, and after knowing what he is capable of, ending up in that position absolutely crushed him, and you hated to see him debating with himself. 

Once the weekend was finally over and you were leaving Italy, you wanted to make him feel better, telling him how great he was and how proud you were. You even shot some comments at McLaren for everything that went down, but he didn’t want to hear it; he barely wanted to talk about it, so you just dropped it. You understood him anyway, so you had to leave everything behind and just be supportive of your boyfriend.

You were hoping this weekend would be different, better, everyone was, and there was a lot of talking in the team that they would make the right decisions to keep fighting now that they had the chance. This, of course, would only mean something until they actually proved it during the race. 

Lando was in a better mood coming into this weekend; he trusted his team and he was confident they were backing him up. That was until the qualifying came. A yellow flag being pulled out by mistake during Q1 caused him to lose the opportunity to even put up a fight, and he ended up being P17. It wasn’t even his fault, but you knew he was beating himself up for that result. 

“Lando,” you called him right after he came back to the garage to watch the rest of the qualifying. He looked at you with a disappointed smile. “It’s not your fault, baby.”

“I know.” He pulled you into a hug, not wanting you to worry about him too much. “There’s nothing I could have done. We just have to wait and see what we can do tomorrow.”

“I’m sure you’ll do amazing,” you replied into his chest, rubbing small circles in his back to let him know you were there for him, no matter what. 

“We’ll see. The car felt okay, but it’s hard to overtake on this track. It’s quite a long straight.” He let out a nervous giggle as he pulled away; he didn’t sound as confident as you were hoping, but you knew he was right. “Some of it is just going to have to cross our fingers.”

There was no point in fighting him when he got like that, so you just nodded. “I’ll be crossing everything I have then.”

He went off with the rest of his team as you stayed back to watch the rest of the cars complete the qualifying. The air was starting to get tense again, and even though you knew everyone was nervous with Lando’s result, you weren’t sure if it was just your own feelings talking. But like Lando said, you were going to have to wait and see what the team could come up with, you were just hoping they would do the right thing.

Race day was finally here, and with Lewis starting from the pit lane due to a new power unit and Pierre being excluded due to fuel flow rate, Lando had been promoted to P15. Sure, it would have been better if Lando had the chance to fight for his starting position, but at least that was something. 

You could see he was still not completely confident in how the race would go, but you trusted enough for the both of you. 

Watching the race from the garage was something that always made you incredibly nervous, but especially in this position. But Lando managed to get to P12 by lap 2, and everyone was incredibly excited by his overtakes. 

As the race went on and he felt more confident with the car, he started to climb his way up to the top 10, trusting the team’s decisions with the strategy they were sticking to, and you were so glad everything was falling in place. 

The rest of the race still made you bite your nails at how nervous you were, but the bliss in the entire garage when he overtook someone was indescribable. He was driving the race of his life, and even the radios he exchanged with the team radiated that. As always, the last few laps were nervewracking, but the fact that he made it all the way to P6 and was even helping Oscar with his own race left everyone with a good taste. Not a complete terrible weekend after all. 

During the last lap, however, an unfortunate crash between Carlos and Checo pushed him to P4, meaning he gained 11 positions during the race; not that you ever doubted him, but seeing him end up there with the fastest lap after an absolute mess of the qualifying made you excited to see him. After confiming everyone was okay, you took the liberty to celebrate your boyfriend’s race.

Lando got out of the car and went to greet his team, cheers and smiles all over the place. Everyone was praising him for the incredible work he made, and his smile didn’t go away for a second the entire time. 

You knew you would still have to wait to congratulate him; he still had to do media before coming back to his room, where you were waiting for him, but seeing him so happy in the monitors made you grow impatient. 

It felt like it had been a while since you saw him so happy after a race.

After what felt like forever, you heard him come back to the garage. You stoop up from the small couch and opened the door, where you were greeded by your boyfriend. 

“Hey, you.” You said, closing the door behind him.

“Hi,” he replied, smile so big you could see his dimples.

“That was amazing, Lando. I knew you would do amazing, but I can’t even describe how proud I am.” 

He smiled even more at your words. He closed the distance between you when he took a few steps, wrapping you in his arms and kissing you deeply. You could even feel him smiling then, and that filled your heart.

“Thank you; it was a good day,” he said when he pulled away, looking down at you with loving eyes. “I think everything worked out.” You just nodded as you admired him.

“I missed you,” you whispered as you brushed a few curls that fell on his forehead.

“What do you mean? We’ve been together the last three weeks. You saw me just before the race." To say he was confused was an understatement, and you could see it in his face.

“I mean you, this. I missed seeing you so happy and smiley. Looks good on you.”

Lando was a bit embarrassed by your confession; he thought he did a better job at hiding how much the results affected him, at least to you. It was never his intention to be so down when he was with you, but man, was he endeared by your words. “I needed this,” was all he said, and you know he was right. And it wasn’t only him; you knew the team needed this as well.

“I know, and I know you hate to hear it, but I told you.”

He let out a laugh, not a nervous one this time. “Yes, you did,” he hugged you again, much tighter as he buried his face on the crook of your neck. “Thank you for being here and supporting me, even during my bad times.” He spoke with so much sincerity. 

“I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

[superbat-love]

Clark: Uh, hi Bruce.

Bruce: Hey.

Damian: Are you two going to stare at each other forever? Because it’s getting awfully cold out here.

Clark: [clears his throat] I brought your son over. I think you left him behind at the zoo.

Bruce: Yes, sorry about that. I have Jon here, I mistook him for Damian. I’ve been meaning to drive him back to Metropolis, but you saved me a trip. Thanks.

Jon: Alfred gave me a huge bowl of chocolate ice-cream, dad! It was sooo good!

Clark: Thanks for looking after Jon. Well Damian, I’m glad to have met you again, even if it wasn’t exactly under ideal circumstances.

Bruce: What did he do?

Damian: Nothing! It was the stupid zookeeper’s fault.

Bruce: Damian…

Damian: The zookeeper’s still alive, okay? The monkey would have been happier here anyway.

Bruce: Damian, I told you to stop bringing home random animals. Don’t think I don’t know about the cow you’ve been hiding in your bedroom.

Jon: You have a cow?

Damian: Yeah! Her name is Bat-Cow. Do you want to meet her?

Jon: Wow, I wanna see her! Can I dad?

Clark: Um, sure, if it’s not a problem for you, Bruce?

Bruce: Go ahead. [Watches Damian pull Jon to his room] God, why did I decide to have kids?

Alfred: You have eight, sir. It’s a little too late to be having regrets now. [turns to Clark] Forgive us for our lack of manners, Mr Kent. Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?

Superbat Family Fics

[k-dgn]

Chapter 2: The First Test

13k Words

Time seemed to pass by in a blur. You wanted to make sure you were prepared, so you spent every waking moment trying to come up with as many different ideas and concepts as possible that you wanted to pitch to Mina hoping you would find something she would like. A few days later, you finally got the long awaited text from Sana telling you where and when to meet.

On the day of the meeting you arrived early, wanting to leave a good impression. Sana had chosen a different café than the one at the JYP building you had met her at previously. It was pretty low-key as far as storefronts were concerned, and was two stories tall. The upstairs even had a secluded loft area perfectly suited for your planned get-together. After getting your drink and making your way up, you sat down on the couch and let out an anxious sigh. You then pulled out your phone and messaged Sana.

Y/N: Hey! Just letting you know I'm here already, waiting upstairs.

SN: Ok! We’ll be there soon ✌️

A few minutes passed by but they felt like hours. Eventually, you heard footsteps coming from the stairs, as well as the sound of that signature giggle that could only be coming from none other than Sana. You turned to face the stairs just as they were coming up. Sana was wearing a tight-fitting pink top that exposed her perfectly toned midriff and a pair of equally tight-fitting jeans.

Following closely behind her was Mina, wearing a long-sleeved striped knit top, black leather skirt, and black knee-high socks. Both girls wore hats and face masks in an attempt to hide their identities from the public, but one look into either of their eyes would have given them away in an instant.

You took one last nervous deep breath before waving from your seat to call them over. Sana quickly spotted you and started to make her way over, Mina in tow. As they approached, they removed their masks while you rose from your seat and got up to greet them. You opened your arms, a cue Sana took up almost immediately.

“You're early this time!” Sana exclaimed as she came up to hug you. “...Why weren't you this early when you met me for the first time, huh?” Even now, the girl just loved to mess with you. You rolled your eyes and tried to laugh it off.

“Oh, you know. Just wanted to leave a good impression this time around.” You replied with a cheeky grin. Sana pulled away and stuck her tongue out at you before laughing again. She then stepped back in order to introduce you to the other girl who was just watching everything unfold. Her hands were covered by her long sleeves, and she had brought them up to her face, cutely covering her mouth. 

“Y/N, this is Mina,” Sana said as she nudged Mina’s arm. “Mina, Y/N!”

You extended a hand and put on the best smile you could. Mina’s eyes turned to crescent moons as she reached out a hand to shake yours.

“It's nice to meet you, Mina. Thank you for meeting with me today!” You said confidently. You shake her sleeve covered hand, and couldn't help but to notice that she had the gentlest touch.

“Nice to finally meet you too,” she replied, quickly eyeing you up and down before lowering her hand. She was so soft-spoken you almost had trouble hearing her, so you mentally noted to pay extra attention whenever she spoke. “You know, I've heard a lot about you from Sana.” 

“Ah…good things, I hope?” you say, your eyes darting to Sana for a moment who was smiling while holding up a peace sign. Mina just laughed and nodded as the three of you sat down around the coffee table.

The next bit of time was spent going over the list of ideas you had prepared on your phone. Mina was sitting across from you, legs crossed with her elbows on the table and one hand resting on her chin. Her eyes were locked on you the entire time as you led the conversation. You started by asking her what sort of vibe she wanted to go with for the shoot and went from there, detailing your ideas and seeing what she was receptive to. Though she didn't speak much at all, she would nod cutely and smile whenever she did like something. Whenever she did want to voice an opinion you made sure to listen close, taking down notes throughout the entire process.

Meanwhile, Sana was sitting back in her chair next to Mina. Every now and then Mina would turn to ask Sana for her opinion on something and she’d give it, but for the most part Sana was content in letting the two of you hash out business. She was more curious to ask Mina about some other things later anyway.

30 minutes of discussion later, you felt satisfied with the info you'd gathered from your meeting. You put your phone away and smiled back at the two girls. “Alright, I think I can work with these ideas. I can let you know as soon as I have the final draft proposal ready. It shouldn't take more than a few days if that's alright with you?”

“Yeah, that's ok with me” Mina says, flashing you a glimpse of her gummy smile before she quickly covers it with her hand. You smile back and let out a nervous chuckle. For someone as visually stunning on stage as Mina, getting the chance to see this side of her up close was nothing short of breathtaking for you. Sana notices the way you look back at Mina and knowingly smiles to herself.

“Great! Thanks again for meeting with me today. Unfortunately I have to get back to my studio now to finish up some prints for another client today. Is there anything else you wanted to discuss?”

Mina shakes her head then turns to look at Sana. Sana looks at the two of you and satisfied with the way the meeting turned out, clasps her hands together proudly. “Nope! I think you guys covered just about everything. Mina, do you want to give him your number or should I?”

Mina smiles back then reaches into her purse to get her phone. She hands it over to you and you input your info before handing it back to her with a smile of your own. You then collect your things and bow slightly toward the girls before bidding them farewell and heading towards the stairs. Once you were out of earshot, Sana looks back over and playfully nudges Mina’s side jolting her out of her trance. Unbeknownst to you, she'd been looking in your direction the whole time as you left.

“Sooo, what do you think?” Sana asks smugly.

“He's...very nice," Mina shyly says with a soft giggle. "I think working with him will be a lot of fun.”

Sana then starts rocking back and forth in place. “Right…and what about the “other” thing we talked about?” Sana asks with a grin, obviously trying to insinuate something else entirely. 

Mina knowingly tilts her head and turns to face Sana, mirroring her cheeky attitude. She knew exactly where Sana was going with her question. 

“Oh…” Mina sighed. “Yeah. He's hot.”

—

The next day, you were back in your studio putting the last touches on your latest project. You had told yourself that after this job was finished, you'd be free to devote all of your time towards working on the draft proposal for Mina and her shoot. You honestly couldn't wait to get back to working on that, so you rushed to finish what you’d started. After one final look-through, you decided that you were happy with the final product and sent it off. You slumped back in your chair, yawning as you stretched out your arms. You'd just spent the entire day working, so suffice to say you were feeling exhausted. Still, you were content to know that you'd now be able to fully shift your focus over to Mina and her project now. As luck would have it, your phone chimed with a new text. You reached over to see a message from an unknown number.

MN: Hey, it's Mina. You wouldn't happen to be busy right now, would you? I had a couple more ideas I wanted to run by you.

Y/N: Hey! You caught me at a good time actually, I just finished up work for the day. What’d you wanna talk about?

MN: Actually, would you want to meet up then? I think it'd be better to talk about it in person.

You took a brief pause before responding. You were a bit taken back because the timing couldn't have worked out any better for you. After collecting yourself, you start to type again.

Y/N: Sure, just let me know where!

Mina then forwarded you an address and said you were free to come whenever. Not wanting to keep her waiting too long, you quickly gathered your things before closing up shop and hopping in your car.

—

Mina was looking at herself in the mirror, trying out various poses and angles. In truth, she had ulterior motives in inviting you over to her place that night, spurred on by a conversation she’d had with Sana earlier in the day over text before she ended up messaging you. She thought back to that as she continued adjusting her outfit.

SN: Stop thinking too hard and just call him! I promise you he’s really fun. Besides, I wouldn't share him with you if I didn't think you'd have a great time.

MN: Ugh, I know it's just…Idk, won't he be weirded out if I come on too strong? It's not like I do stuff like this as often as you do…

SN: Oh, Mina. Trust me, that’ll be the last thing he's thinking about when he sees you. I know how you are and I know he can handle you 😉

Back in the present, she struck one more pose before cringing at herself. At that moment, she decided that she’d put off her original plan and would instead wait and get to know you a little better. Just as she was about to start changing, she heard her doorbell ring. In a panic, she quickly threw a sweater over her outfit before scurrying to answer her door.

—

You were about to reach for the doorbell again when you heard the door unlock and open slightly. From behind the door, Mina’s head shyly popped out, her face a bit flushed.

“Hey! Is this a bad time…?” you ask tentatively. “No, no it's fine! Please, come in,” Mina responded. She disappeared behind the door before opening it to let you in. After entering her apartment, she closed the door behind you and leant her hand on it. You looked down at her to see she was wearing an oversized white sweater covering her whole upper body. Her legs were bare, and you couldn't quite make out whether or not she was wearing any shorts. You decided it’d be best that you try paying no mind to it. You were in her home after all. She briefly caught your eyes wandering however, and adjusted the hem of her sweater downward while you quickly averted your eyes. The both of you let out a nervous chuckle.

There was a brief awkward silence as the two of you stood there, both of you unsure of who would make the next move. Mina snapped out of it first as she shyly made her way past you and  down the hall. You gave her some space and followed behind her. 

The two of you entered her living room. You took a moment to look around and admire the scene. Mina’s place was spacious to say the least, as expected of an idol of her status. It was decorated with a quaint, minimalist aesthetic that suited her. The room was furnished simply. On one side hanging on the wall was a giant flat screen TV and beneath it was an entertainment center. Inside, you could see all the various gaming consoles she owned, and you best believe she owned them all. Across from this was a rather comfortable looking couch. Mina picked up a small cushion to hold on her lap before she took a seat on said couch. She then gestured for you to join her by patting the open spot beside her. You happily made your way over.

“This is a really nice place, Mina.” you said with a warm smile as you took a seat next to her. 

“Oh, thanks haha. It's not much but it's enough for me” she replied coyly.

“No kidding. With a TV like that, I wouldn't blame you for never wanting to go out!” 

“Ugh, finally someone gets it. If only my members felt the same way…”

You got the vibe that she may have been a little nervous being alone with you, so you tried to lighten the mood. You opened with some more small talk, asking about which types of games she liked to play in her free time. It seemed to be working as you started to notice her easing up. She was surprisingly easy to talk to once you got on a subject she was passionate about. After exchanging pleasantries a little while longer, you decided it was time to get down to business.

“So, you wanted to discuss some more shoot ideas?”

Mina paused for a moment, remembering why she really invited you over before suppressing those thoughts. “Oh yeah, right. Shoot ideas. I did have an idea for a concept and I wanted your opinion on it.”

You turned your body to face her, propping an elbow on the back of the couch. “Let's hear it!”

“Well I like all the concepts you've pitched so far but…I was thinking that I wanna do something a little more…bold?” 

You raised an eyebrow, trying to follow along. “I see. So you want to try more of a chic or fierce concept?” you prodded, testing to see if you were on the right track.

Mina quietly huffed to herself before trying to convey her thoughts again. “No, not exactly. I was thinking of trying out something more…sexy.”

You made an “Oh” face as you sat up, straightening your posture back forward. Mina in return shyly hid the lower half of her face behind her hands as she saw you finally connect the dots.

“You know what, yeah! I definitely think you can do something like that,” you say, trying your best to keep your composure. “I've done a few shoots like this before. Let me see if I have any stills saved on my phone.” You whipped out your phone and started scrolling through your gallery. You remembered back to a time last month when you were booked to shoot for a lingerie line, so you quickly scroll until you find some photos from that shoot.

Mina slowly leans closer, peering at your screen from over your shoulder. When you got to the photos in question, you turned your body to face her again and presented her your phone. She gracefully took it from you and began swiping through as you looked over her shoulder this time. The pictures were of various models in different lingerie attire, all shot in black and white. As Mina continued to swipe through, she seemed to be impressed with your work…until she got to the end of said shoot. Both of you froze as your eyes grew wide. On screen now was a photo of yourself, shirtless on that same set.

“OH! Sorry about that one,” you nervously said as you grabbed your phone from her still frozen hands. “I was just uh, testing the lighting on set and uh, yeah…”

Mina took a deep breath and cleared her throat before finally collecting herself. “No, don't be sorry, it was my fault for swiping too far. The shots are really good! That's definitely what I was envisioning so how about we try something along those lines?” She asked.

You nervously placed your phone back in your pocket, hoping to quickly move on. “Oh, ok then sure, if that's what you want…”

Mina turned to face you with a slight conviction in her eyes. “Mhm! In fact, wait here for a second, I have an idea.” With that, Mina jumped up from the couch, tossing the cushion aside as she waddled her way out of the living room towards her bedroom.

—

When she got to her room, Mina closed the door behind her before leaning back and sighing. After seeing that photo of you, she realized that you were everything Sana had described you as and then some. She had already quietly thought you were attractive, but that photo all but solidified her desire for you. At that moment, she decided to go ahead with her original plan. Mina walked over to the standing mirror in the corner of her room and took off her sweater, revealing the black lingerie outfit she had originally intended to surprise you with. She then walked into her closet, picking out a matching pair of thigh high stockings and heels to complete the look. After checking herself one last time in the mirror, she took a deep breath and left her room.

— Back in the living room, you took the little free time you had to organize your pictures in the phone's camera roll. Work can stay in work, but those self-portraits? Let's move those into a private folder. You were thinking hard about other pictures you still had that needed to stay hidden next time a client asks for examples, and a couple came to mind. Some barely safe for work behind the scenes pictures Sana let you keep, mostly because they wouldn't have had any real impact beyond some buzz for a week if they were to be leaked. You thought that it’d be a waste to delete those, so into the private folder they went.

You were just about done wrapping up the most crucial parts of your organizational efforts, when you heard a door opening and closing. You put your phone back down on the table in front of you and looked up to where the sounds were coming from. Standing in the doorframe was Mina, her arms awkwardly to her side, her hands meeting each other in front of her waist, her knees pointing slightly inwards. It was clear from her posture that she must have been feeling either shy or embarrassed. You weren't really sure why, because she looked absolutely stunning. Clad in a black lace bralette, a black pencil skirt, a black blazer and matching lace thigh highs, finished off with black pointed-toe pumps.

"How's this...?" She asked you, her voice soft and quiet, and her eyes unable to meet yours.

You were almost too stunned to speak. Was it really okay for you to see this? Your body couldn't help but react as well, but you had to stay professional. She's just asking your opinion for a shoot, stay calm. You somehow managed to form a reply: "Wow, Mina, this outfit looks amazing on you!"

Your response seemed to have eased her mind a little, as her eyes now finally managed to look into yours. "Really? Do you think I’d look better with it on or off?” Unfortunately you didn’t quite pick up the second half of her sentence due to her soft-spokenness, only picking up the initial “Really?”

You were undeniably nervous yourself, so responded to her supposed questioning for affirmation with "Yeah, absolutely! You really captured the concept!" thinking you absolutely nailed it. Mina let out a small, frustrated sigh in response, but recentered herself and followed up by taking a seat on the couch again next to you.

"How much longer do I have you for, oppa?" Mina asked you calmly, albeit with a hint of hesitation as her voice trailed off. Your heart nearly skipped a beat upon hearing her call you oppa. Surely she calls every older guy oppa, right? This is not flirting, act normal, you kept repeating to yourself.

"Oh, I don't have any other plans left today. I can stay for as long as you'll need me!" You face Mina again, a reassuring smile on your face as you flex your arm in a move attempting to signify your willingness to do whatever work you'd have to. This comforted Mina some more, as her worries that she would be inconveniencing you by asking to meet with her after just finishing a long day at work quickly washed away. She placed a hand in front of her gummy smile and let out an endearing chuckle.

"Maybe we could do some practice shots? If that's okay with you? I'd compensate you for your work, obviously." Mina requests of you, gathering her courage and laying her hand on your thigh, unmistakably communicating how she intended to compensate you. You, unfortunately, had spent too much time in Sana's presence lately, and had learned to relegate almost all casual physical touch to just that. Touching for the sake of touching, nothing more.

"Okay, sure! I didn't bring my camera with me though, so will it be okay if I use my phone?" You shoot up from the couch, already getting yourself into position to capture her beauty as she sits before you. Mina looked a little shocked from your sudden withdrawal of her touch, but relents and nods in agreement to your proposition. You quickly change some settings in your phone camera to get it ready for the shoot. "All set! Are you ready?" you ask her before readying your camera.

"So... how do you want me?" She asks you a little sultriness in her tone, staring at your camera, her cheeks displaying the slightest tint of red. You were so absorbed with your camera, you missed all these bodily queues.

"How about you face me, cross your legs and lean back a little on your arms?" You respond in an earnest answer to her question. Mina's brow furrows, wondering if she's not being straightforward enough or if you're just refusing to go along with her advances. She shakes off the thought and does as you request, her gaze instantly shifting from her usual shy demeanor to that of an industry veteran in the blink of an eye. Her eyes become sharper, her gaze fiercer, her body language more charismatic, and her presence more demanding. It's as if she’s flipped a switch and has become an entirely different person. You take a moment to focus yourself, and begin snapping some test pictures. The scene before you looked undeniably erotic, as her thighs squeezed on top of one another. She held her posture at an angle through which she was leaning with her arms slightly behind her and puffing her chest out slightly, causing her blazer to part slightly. You almost felt yourself waver but you steeled your resolve to remain as professional as possible.

"Let's take a look, shall we?" You propositioned. Mina's gaze softened. She smiled and tapped the couch next to her, indicating to you she'd like to take a look, but that you'd have to come over and show her. You managed to successfully read her body language this time and made your approach, taking a seat next to her. Mina huddled up close to you with her side leaning against your arm as you held your phone out and showed her the myriad of test shots you took of this first pose. "So, what do you think? Is this what you had in mind?" you inquired.

"Hmmmm, I think they're good, but I also think that I want to try something even more bold" she responds pensively, her hand balled into a fist on her chin. You were taken aback because in your mind, her current outfit and pose were already quite bold for your average idol. No matter what reservations you may have had, you weren’t about to deny Mina’s requests however.

"Did you have something in mind?" you inquire. You knew from experience that it was best not to suggest something in such a precarious situation, as you were still in the process of exploring your clients boundaries and did not want to ruffle any feathers. Best to let the client  communicate what they desire in such situations, assumptions can be treacherous, you thought to yourself.

"Can you maybe show me those pictures from earlier again...?" she asks, the fierceness completely eroded from her voice. You looked back at her, thinking you knew exactly what she was asking, and began to open up your “Professional Shoots” album again. She nods as you begin to scroll through, but manages to scrounge up enough courage to raise her voice a little. "No, oppa... not those ones. The picture of you that I saw." This time your cheeks turned red, but not just a little. It was safe to say that this was the last thing you had expected her to say. *That* picture was only shown to her by mistake after all. Nevertheless, you agreed to her demands. You pull up the picture of yourself sitting on a stool, one leg raised up with the other on the floor. You're wearing suit pants and nothing but a blazer adorning your torso.

"Did you bring a tablet or some other device by any chance? Maybe you could set it up on the table over there with that picture and I can look at it while trying to recreate it..." She continues asking, her shyness seemingly dissipating as she grows more comfortable in making demands.

You were a little uncomfortable with the thought of you putting those pictures on display, as a couple of rogue swipes could lead to your illicit relationship with Sana being exposed. Nevertheless, if Mina made the request, you couldn't possibly say no, and luckily for you you had remembered to pack an extra tablet. You set everything up exactly as she had asked before getting back to your position. You couldn’t help but to wonder what about these pictures seemed to serve as inspiration for Mina, but you gave in either way.

"Good to go?" you asked, checking one last time if everything was set up in the way Mina wanted it. She was sitting on the couch, her hands clutching her knees tightly, staring down at her lap. She didn't respond to your question, so you figured she was just mentally preparing herself for the test shots. You decide to address her once more. "Whenever you’re ready". You hold up your phone in position ready to take a picture whenever she strikes a pose. She lifts her face up, takes one last glance at the tablet and shifts her demeanor once more.

"I'm ready." She says, conviction and charisma oozing out of her. She lifts one leg up on the couch, and rests the other on the floor, mimicking your pose. She folds both her arms behind her back, and keeps it straight as she sits on the couch, seemingly fidgeting a bit. You assumed, with the reference picture on display, any changes she made were deliberate, and started shooting pictures. These look good…but they’re not much different from the others we took. What gives? you wonder.

Suddenly, the reason for the fidgeting of her hands behind her back becomes clear as day. Her bralette falls to the ground, which she kicks out of view with her leg that was resting on the floor. Her breasts are now more exposed with the inside of her cleavage fully on display. Her black blazer just barely covered her nipples as you started wondering if it was really okay for you to see her like this. You don't relinquish your professionalism however, and remain focused on taking the best pictures you knew you could. Your body's reaction was another thing entirely though, as you quietly attempted to shift your stance. You were sure that Mina would be able to see the outline of your growing erection through your pants now if she looked towards your bulge, so you did your best to hide it.

Mina holds her position for a little while, the entire time staring straight into the camera for the shot. In a way, it felt like she was staring straight into your soul rather than the camera, and you found yourself incapable of averting your gaze. Before changing positions, her brow furrowed and her expression briefly became quizzical. Slightly frustrated now, she sighed then adapted a seductive look once more. This time, she grabbed the inside seams of her blazer, and threw the piece off of her shoulders. All it was covering now was her back and her forearms, her petite yet elegant breasts now on full display. It took all of the willpower you had but you remained stoic. If this was the kind of shoot Mina wanted, then this was exactly what you would give to her. You kept taking pictures. Her expression was confident, charismatic, and her side profile was showcased immaculately in an elegant, almost ethereal way.

Despite her advances, Mina's failed attempts to goad you into making a move on her were causing her to become more and more frustrated. She was almost embarrassed at how easily you were able to ignore them, not knowing the toll it was taking on your mind to remain professional. You watched as she sat forward and reached out towards the tablet, swiping on it to find more sources of inspiration. You then notice her gain a shocked expression for a split second before she repositions herself. You couldn’t really see what picture she had swiped to, but hoped for the best either way. She then stands up in front of the couch and walks a little closer to the camera, bends forward, uses her arms to push her tits together to form the perfect cleavage amount for the camera, and tilts her head to the side as she shoots a sweet smile directly at the camera. You knew this pose. This was the same EXACT pose that Sana had struck for you in a photo she had sent to you a few weeks ago. You couldn’t mask your shock as you stumbled backwards a bit away from Mina. Her smile quickly transformed into a frown in response to your actions. 

"Oppa. Do you not want to fuck me?" She asked you in a serious, almost scathing tone. "I have been dropping hints for you ever since you got here, and all you've done is brush them off in favor of your job as a photographer." You were flabbergasted. Sure, she was dropping rather obvious hints but you thought you were being respectful by not reading too much into anything. What a fool! you exclaimed in your head. "Oh, ehm, I mean, I didn't mean to, I didn't know-" You stutter and mumble, absolutely clueless on how to proceed.

"Is your career more important to you than getting a chance to fuck me?" She asks you again, clearly upset with how the evening has been going. She takes a step back while still facing you, inching backwards until she feels the couch against her calves, and letting her ass plop down on the couch. She crosses her legs in a matter-of-fact way and then crosses her arms as well, shielding her breasts from view. "I know you're fucking Sana. This is your chance to fuck me. So I will ask you one last time, and clearly so that there is no confusion whatsoever. Do you or do you not want to fuck me?" she asks curtly. Her shy, innocent persona is gone. Something had awoken within her, and it was angry.

You were not only shocked by the sudden shift in her demeanor, but also by how forward she was in confronting you about your trysts with Sana. No matter the case, you decided that this would be something you would have to sort through later, as you did not want to pass up on the opportunity being presented to you now. "Yes, Mina. I absolutely want to fuck you." you responded to her, as you closed your phone and put it away.

"Good”, Mina replied through pursed her lips. “Since you don’t take to hints very well, I guess I have to spell everything out for you tonight. Now come here and take out your cock." she demanded, her eyes sneering as her right arm uncrossed from her chest and stretched out in your direction, her index finger pointing at the ground in front of her. You had disappointed her enough tonight already so there was no more room for error. You immediately did as she asked and dropped your pants and underwear to the floor, stepping out of it. "Start stroking” she commanded. Mina repositioned herself, giving you a full view of her exposed chest. Your mouth began to salivate as your mind began to run rampant at the prospect of ravaging her breasts. Her next command snapped you out of your lust-fueled daze. "Tell me what you like about my body. I want to hear what you want to do to me." "Fuck, Mina, I want to come over and hold you by your tight, sexy waist. I want to kiss your perfectly flat belly, and suck on your delicious looking tits. I want to rip that skirt off of you and bury my head in between your thighs. I want to pick you up and fuck you against the wall with your legs wrapped around me", you rambled, as you wasted no time in spitting into your palm, using your saliva as lubricant to start stroking just as she had commanded. You leaned backwards, giving Mina both a better view of your abs as well as a more vertical viewpoint of your cock. Mina’s lips curled into a seductive smile before she bit her lip. Each depraved act you described prompted Mina to nod in return, biting her lip even harder before she began to fondle her own tits. She was clearly putting on a show for you in an attempt to get you even harder than you already were. "Do you want to come over here and fuck me with that cock?" she asked as she spread her legs, granting you the sight of her black lace underwear. Once again you decided to be more proactive than you had been earlier in the night so you approached her slowly, taking off your shirt as you made your way over. Mina grew an excited smirk on her face as you walked towards her, the intense eye contact between the two of you never breaking. You were almost within range to grab her by her waist when you suddenly felt something sharp dig into your abdomen.

"Ah, ah. I asked what you wanted to do. I never gave you permission to actually come over here and fuck me, toy." Mina told you off in a demeaning tone, a cold glare freezing you in your tracks as her right heel dug into your flesh preventing you from going any further. Your expression was that of a deer in headlights, as you were under the impression that you had finally gotten the read on her. "Now get on your knees if you want to end this night inside me." She commanded once more, like a queen on a throne giving an irrefutable command.

This kind of experience was new for you, but you weren't against it. You couldn't deny her actions were turning you on, and your cock was beyond rock-hard at this point. You did as she asked of you and slowly lowered yourself to your knees. She placed the heel she had on your abs back on the ground before spreading her legs, exposing what was hiding beneath her mini-skirt once more.

"Rip my skirt off of me." Mina commanded as she leaned further back onto the couch while looking down at you. You looked back at her apprehensively, wondering what her game plan was.

"Are you sure...? These clothes look expensive." you responded, which made her sneer as her lip “tsked” towards the upper right corner of her mouth. "Do it." 

At that moment, you decided that you would not question her authority for the rest of the night. You placed your hands on her stomach, slipping your fingers under the fabric of her skirt. You gave Mina one more look as if to ask her if she was sure, but her deadpan stare back at you gave you the greenlight you needed. You took a deep breath, and exerted all the force you had in your arms in divergent directions, ripping the mini skirt cleanly in two before discarding the halves and exposing the full beauty of her hips, thighs and underwear. Mina leaned forward a bit, impressed by your display of physical prowess, and placed one hand atop her underwear, right over her pussy. You only caught a glimpse, but you were pretty sure that there was a damp spot on her underwear before she hid it from view. She didn't keep you guessing for long however, as she slid two fingers under the side of her panties and pulled it aside to expose her dripping desire for you.

"Praise my thighs, but not with words. And don't you dare touch my pussy." Mina ordered. You looked her in her eyes and nodded, acquiescing to her demands for now as you placed your lips against the inside of her right thigh just above the seam of her thigh high stocking. You planted a soft kiss before following it up by your teeth grasping at her stocking and pulling it away from her thigh, only to let it snap back in place. Mina flinched, but she didn't say anything. You wanted to press your luck by teasing her, but you had to be careful. So long as you did what she told you, you believed you could add your own little spin on things.

You moved your head slowly from one thigh to the other, leaving a trail of kisses as you went back and forth intermittently. Each time you shifted, your face inched closer and closer to her pussy. It was clean shaven, clearly communicating that she knew how she wanted this night to go since before inviting you. Her scent was different from Sana's. Though it was less sweet, it had a deeper fragrance to it, but it was equally as intoxicating. You found yourself getting lost in the smell of her pussy, and were so distracted by it that you didn't notice her stocking covered feet escaping her heels next to your knees until they were both pressed against your cock. The soft feeling of her lace covered skin was addicting as her feet wrapped themselves around your member. They then started to move up and down your shaft, eliciting a stifled moan from you directly into her thighs.

Ever since her touch reached you, you had lost your focus and were repeatedly kissing the same spot on her right thigh. Though you noticed your focus slipping, you couldn't resist her warning any longer. You moved your face closer to her pussy and decided to risk it all. Your tongue lapped at her dripping vagina, eager to get a true taste of her juice while you prepared to accept your punishment for disobeying her direct order. Contrary to your expectations, Mina placed the back of her hand against her mouth and let out a soft moan right as your tongue made contact. You took this as your queue and continued. You slowly started moving your tongue up and down covering as wide an area as possible in an attempt to find her clit as fast as possible. As you were picking up your pace, you felt Mina do the same. Her feet had started to match your rhythm, and your competitive instincts took over. When you found her clit, you began to flick it with your tongue. The frequency of her moans increased, while her upper body started to sink deeper and deeper into the back of the couch.

You placed your lips around her clit and started applying some soft suction before examining Mina's reaction. Both her legs and feet tensed up in response before they pushed hard against the base of your cock. Only when you let up on your assault of her clit did her feet relax and go back to slowly stroking you. You could feel her thighs twitching softly against the sides of your head, signaling to you just how sensitive she was to your actions. In all fairness, you weren’t in any better shape either. As her footjob continued you felt yourself getting closer and closer to cumming, but your competitive instincts (the ones finely honed by the countless instances of playing your little game with Sana) had now started firing on all cylinders. You went back to flicking her clit with your tongue, only this time with an increased pace. You did not want to cum before Mina did, so you decided to pull out every trick in the book. You began forming every letter of the alphabet with your tongue, right on her most sensitive spot.

Mina's moans kept increasing in pitch and frequency, until suddenly both of her thighs started to squeeze tightly against your head. Her hips began to buck violently. I win, you thought to yourself, a feeling of smugness overwhelming you. Mina’s chest heaved up and down as she tried to calm herself, her feet slipping off of your cock before she propped herself up on her elbows to get a good look at you. While you thought you had softened her up and convinced her with your skills, you couldn't have been more wrong. You slowly backed away and sat back on your heels, trying to read her expression. 

"I warned you not to touch my pussy." She looked down at you, her eyebrows coming together in an angry scowl. If it wasn't for the seductive smirk that crept up on her face a moment later, you would have thought you had wasted any chance of continuing this night any further. "I'm going to have to punish you for that, toy." You feel the heel of her foot on your left shoulder. Before you can protest, she shoves you back as you fall back onto your ass. You look back to her with wide eyes, shocked at her sudden forcefulness, but are met with a devilish grin from Mina. She was excited for whatever she had planned next, and tonight you just so happened to be caught in her sights. Mina quickly got up and walked over to one of the side tables by her couch. She opened its drawer and pulled out a small black object, smiling at it before turning to face you once more. Her expression then turned back to that of a calm, almost menacing look.

“You. Sit back on that chair across from the couch. I'll only say this once. You are not to touch yourself. Do you understand?” 

You look up to her like a deer caught in headlights. You were always the one who took the lead in your sex life, and had never been commanded like this before. This situation was an all new sensation for you. You were at a loss trying to make sense of how the normally calm and demure Mina could have such a fiery side to her, but a small part of you was growing excited to find out what else she had in her. The corners of your mouth curled into a slick grin as you brought a hand up to wipe the remnants of her juices from your lips. You looked Mina in her eyes and nodded slowly.

“Good boy.” Mina commended as she retook her place in the center of the couch. You got up and walked backwards until you felt the chair behind you, letting yourself fall back into it. You placed your arms on the armrests and looked back towards Mina intently, spreading your legs so that she could get a good look at your still-fully erect cock.

Everything Mina did, she did at an excruciating slow pace. No matter how simple the movement, her smoothness combined with her intense gaze to ooze raw sex appeal. First, she sank backwards into the couch, getting herself into a more comfortable position. She kept her knees close together as she brought them up, all the while maintaining her vixen stare on you. Mina then fully extended her legs upward, pointing them towards the ceiling as she hooked her fingers around the waistband of her panties. In one smooth motion she removed them, trailing the fabric up her marble-like legs before bunching it up around one of her feet. She then slowly began parting her legs into splits, her gaze never once leaving yours.

Your eyes widened and your mouth instantly watered as she exposed herself to you. Your cock was already standing at full attention from her earlier teasing. It twitched ever so slightly in excitement, a movement Mina caught onto and grinned at. You gulped as you gripped down hard onto the armrest to stop yourself from violating her only rule.

Mina then slid one of her hands down her torso, stopping between her legs and cupping her pussy. She kept her fingers close together and started rubbing her lips, cooing soft yet barely audible moans as her eyes remained glued on your throbbing member. In her other hand, she held a small black object no bigger than the size of her thumb. She brought it to her face and ran it across her lips. She then held it slightly in front of her face as she shifted her lidded gaze to meet your eyes.

In yet another agonizingly slow motion, Mina stuck her tongue out and ran it from the base of the object to its tip before giving it a soft peck. Though you were separated across the room from each other, you could almost feel whatever she was doing to the thing she was worshiping in her hands. A bead of sweat rolled down your brow as you fought against the urge to get up and pounce on her with every fiber of your being. You had a death grip on the armrest, your veins popping out of your toned forearms. Seeing how much you were struggling only motivated Mina to keep pushing the envelope. She decided to kick it up a notch. After bringing the it’s tip to her lips, she then closed her eyes and opened her mouth just enough to engulf the object.

“Mmmmmm…..” Mina moaned out, sucking down hard as she withdrew the object from her lips. You bit down on your own lip, trying hard to stifle your reaction to her obvious ploy. You didn't want to give her the satisfaction of knowing the effects she was having on you, but suffice to say your body language was betraying you.

She kept up her act, each time exaggerating her moans more and more while also squirming her body trying to get a rouse out of you. You sat up in your chair and sighed, wanting so badly to look away and distract yourself. You tilted your head downward averting her gaze, but your eyes kept stealing glances at her wanton figure. 

Mina had you in the palm of her hands and was not about to let up any time soon. Satisfied with the lubrication of the object, she pressed a small button on its underside. It sprang to life in her hand, vibrating in short pulses as Mina grinned. She knew that the next thing she had planned was sure to make you break.

She trailed the object down her torso, holding it just above her skin so that it barely grazed her with the slightest touch. When she got to her pussy, she spread her lips with her fingers from one hand while she teased herself with the vibrator in the other, before lining it up to her entrance. She hummed out her pleasure, prompting you to look once more. When she caught your eyes and saw the pain hiding behind them, she smirked to herself and decided to go for the kill. 

“Oppa~!” Mina cried out. You could only watch in anguish as she pushed the vibrator into her dripping pussy. Her legs tensed up rhythmically as each vibration sent shivers coursing throughout her body. To her, masturbating with a vibrator had always felt good, but doing so now while also putting on a show only served to further intensify her pleasure. You could feel the pressure building up to an all-time high in your cock now and subconsciously your hand was just about to try and relieve some of it; however, by the grace of some divine entity you found the strength to hold back. You sank back into your seat and groaned out in frustration.

As you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, Mina took your groans of longing as music to her ears. Though she was frustrated earlier in the night when you weren’t picking up on her hints, having your full attention now was exhilarating. She kept playing up her moans, leaving you no choice but to force yourself to look away. The melodic tones of her cries paired with the sounds the vibrator made as she methodically pistoned it in and out of her were killing you. At this moment, you wished for nothing more than to be the reason she was experiencing all of that pleasure. If she was being honest with herself, a large part of her wished for that as well. Sana had spared no details when she would talk about you to her, and she was looking forward to seeing what the hype was all about. When she finally got a chance to see what you were working with, she almost decided to throw all of her plans out the window and pounce on you but she refrained. She needed to first establish who would be in control when it was time. She needed to know if you’d be strong enough to handle her needs, or if you’d break like all the other toys she’s played with prior to this night.

Mina held out for as long as she could. She did not want to push herself over the edge, instead deciding that she wanted to let you do the honors as a fitting reward. With one last drawn out breath, she slowly pulled out the vibrator.

“Mmm…this has been fun oppa, but I’m afraid it won't do. Why don’t you come over here and help me out?” She offered. Her tone was a stark contrast of both playful and conniving. You looked over to see she had sat up from the couch with her hands at her side and her legs crossed. She was looking back at you while pouting cutely, but you knew hidden beneath that facade was a succubus eyeing her prey. What sort of game is she playing now, you thought to yourself. Wary as you were, before you even realized it you had gotten up and started making your way to her. Mina’s pout slowly transformed to a delighted grin as she repositioned herself to lay fully on the couch, tilting her head and letting her hair fall to the side as she licked her lips.

When you got to her, she motioned for you to bend down and take a knee. You were now up close to her, taking in the sight. Only a pair of lingerie stockings adorning her legs prevented her from being completely nude. Your head turned as you took in every detail of her goddess-like body. Her pussy looked even more delicious now as it glistened in the dim lighting. Mina took one of her soaked fingertips and brought it up to your face, running it across your lips once before pausing and pressing lightly against them. You took the cue and opened your mouth slightly, closing your eyes as you focused all of your senses into fully savoring her taste. Mina grinned at this before withdrawing her finger and lightly holding your chin turning it to face her.

“As a reward for not touching yourself, I’ll let you touch me. Go ahead, oppa. Make me cum.” Like a light switch being flipped, you instantly got excited once again. She let go of your face and laid back, running her hand through her hair as she awaited your next move. You placed your left hand by her head to support yourself as you leaned to the right, reaching your right hand to one of her knees. Slowly you trailed it up her thigh, lightly tracing her skin with the most gentle touch you could muster. You repeated this motion on her other leg and back again, each time getting closer and closer to her mound. When you finally did reach it, you decided to prolong it a little bit. She’s had her fun, it’s time I gave her a taste of her own medicine, you thought to yourself. You then proceeded to graze your fingertips around her pussy, never once actually penetrating her. You’d rub circles massaging her on the outside, but you didn’t want to give her that satisfaction just yet. After a couple of passes, you were stopped abruptly in your tracks by a sudden sensation. You looked down to see that Mina had snaked her hand up your leg without you noticing, and now was gripping your shaft, albeit with a little too much force for comfort. You froze and winced a bit as you looked down. 

“Oppa.” Mina said. You slowly looked to your left to find that she was staring back at you with an almost blank expression. A bead of sweat rolled down your temple as her grip tightened. “I don’t like being teased.” In that moment, you came to the conclusion that the girl lying before you was not one to be trifled with. For someone known for being so quiet, reserved, almost timid even, seeing this side of Mina was throwing your whole perception of her out of order. You thought you had her all figured out, and that you’d know how to please her even better than she knew herself; however, you’d now come to learn that she was actually quite the confident woman who knew exactly what she wanted. That confidence caused you to become even more attracted to her than you already were. Alright, Mina. Enough games, you thought to yourself. Without saying a word, you simply nodded slyly before turning your attention back towards your hand. You ran your fingertips along her slit one more time to lubricate them before deftly positioning your middle finger at her entrance. In one quick motion, you pushed inside while curling your finger back upwards. Mina gasped at the sudden penetration, but her surprise was quickly washed away as she adjusted, closing her eyes and sighing with a big smile. You felt her let go of your cock and place her hand on your forearm by her head which saddened you a little, but you kept your focus on the task at hand.

You slowly started to pump your finger in and out of her, moving it around to truly feel her walls. You took your thumb and started massaging her on the outside. Mina’s breaths began to pick up, signaling to you that she was getting into it. Her body did its part to lube your finger up nicely as your job became easier and easier. When you opted to have your ring finger join in on the fun, she let out a sharp hiss of approval. “Just like that, oppa, yes, right there~” she cooed. While the hand she had on your forearm gripped it tightly, her other hand made its way to her head as she writhed in pleasure. She kept her eyes shut and eyebrows furled as her lips parted letting out sharp tsks. She arched her lower back, bucking her hips up to meet your hands while you started finger-fucking her in earnest. Her petite chest jiggled ever so slightly. They looked far too tempting to be left unattended, so you leaned down and kissed around one of her nipples before locking your lips around it and sucking hard. She was loving all of the attention, and finally moaned out loud right by your ear. You could tell she was getting close when her chest started moving erratically. You leaned back, wanting to get a good look at the girl below you getting absolutely lost in lust. 

“Cum for me, Mina!” you roared with your hand moving at a furious pace. 

She couldn’t hold on any longer. “AHHH~~~!” she shrieked out. She was like a woman possessed the way she let go of herself. Her left hand gripped the back of the couch while her other hand’s nails began to dig into your skin. Her entire body seized up as her orgasm took control over her. Wave after wave of pleasure coursed through her body as her eyes rolled back. Her chest heaved frantically as she tried to hold on to her sanity. Juices freely squirted from her pussy, utterly soaking the spot on the couch she lay on. You did your part by slowing your pace to help her ride it out. Once she had calmed down, you retracted your fingers from inside of her, gently massaging her ravaged pussy before leaning back to catch your own breath.

The two of you stayed as you were in silence for a bit collecting yourselves. When she finally turned her head to look at you on the floor, she shyly flashed you a smile before covering it with her hands. You chuckled at her cuteness. She slowly sat upright and reached out a hand towards you to help you stand before her. She brought up her other hand so that now she was holding both of yours. 

“Thank you for that. It’s been…a while since I’ve had someone do that for me.” Mina said quietly.

“Hah, please. The pleasure’s all mine. That reward was more than worth it.” you replied with a deep satisfied sigh. Mina tilted her head to the side and gave you a quizzical look when she heard this.

“...You think that was your reward? Oh, Y/N. We're just getting started.” It was your turn to look at her confused. In an instant, you saw a fire light in Mina’s eyes as her lips curled into another mischievous grin. Before you could say anything, she pushed you back down to take her seat on the couch and quickly straddled you. She pinned your shoulders to the back of the couch with her hands while she adjusted her lower half. Your hands found themselves on each of her thighs, holding on tight as she got herself more comfortable. Mina brought her face close to yours, so close that you thought she was going in for a kiss. Her scent was so intoxicating that you couldn’t help but lose yourself in her all over again. You closed your eyes and pucker your lips waiting for her to make the next move, but what she did next was not what you were expecting at all.

From the corner of her eyes, Mina saw you readying yourself for what you thought would be a wonderful kiss, but she had other plans in mind. She brought her lips close to yours, but at the last second she swerved her head to the side and dove towards your ear, causing you to kiss her cheek instead. Your eyes opened in confusion. Suddenly, you felt one of her hands grab a fistful of your hair. She yanked it back hard to the opposite side, making you wince in pain. She leaned back in your lap  to get a better look at you. When you got a chance to reciprocate, you found yourself trapped in her grasp as she gazed back down, licking her lips like a hungry predator ready to devour her prey. 

Devour you she did. She quickly dove her head back down beside yours, kissing it wildly as she trailed hickies up the side of your neck. When she got to your ear, she nibbled it softly while giggling, sending goosebumps down your spine. All you could do was sit there holding on to her waist and thighs as she completely had her way with you. While her left hand held your head firmly in place, her other hand freely explored the rest of your body giving soft squeezes everywhere each time she moaned into your neck.

Her upper half wasn’t the only part of her body putting in work either. She had adjusted herself in a way that the folds of her labia were hugging the underside of your shaft. As she worked your neck with her mouth, she slowly grinded her hips into yours, running her folds along your shaft. She was still very much wet from your pleasuring prior, so it was easy for her to glide along your length. Mina would grind her pussy up your cock slowly, stopping just before her entrance would reach your tip before crashing back down. It was almost too much sensory overload for you no matter where you looked and felt, but you weren’t about to tell her to stop.

Mina continued worshiping your body until she felt like she needed you to do it again to her. She pulled back from your neck until she was sitting deep in your lap. She yanked your head back again, this time facing the ceiling. With her free hand, she grasped onto both sides of your cheeks prompting you to open your mouth. She then leaned forward and positioned herself above you, gathering some spit in her mouth before letting it dribble out right into yours. 

“God, Mina…” you groaned as you swallowed it down. You couldn’t get enough, and she was more than happy to deliver.

She did this a couple of times, smiling wickedly as she watched your throat bulge out with every gulp you made. Satisfied, she used the hand holding your head and pulled you in close to her chest, wanting you to ravage her chest much in the same way she had your neck. You wasted no time and began suckling her breasts, nibbling on her nip before moving quickly over to the other making sure they each got the same love and affection. Mina threw her head back as you did this, all the while never stopping the grinding of her hips.

As Mina reveled in your assault of her chest, your urges for more started stirring up again. Slowly, you wrapped one hand around her lower back while your other crept its way up the side of her body. When she threw her head back again, you took your chance and acted quickly. The hand moving up her body moved to grab her by the neck, squeezing down not enough to suffocate her, but enough to cause her to freeze in place. Mina’s eyes shot open as she looked back down at you, only this time it was clear who was in the driver’s seat. She placed her hands on your chest to support herself while you pulled her in close with your hands. 

“I think I’ve indulged you quite enough for tonight, Mina…” you sneered. Mina looked on helplessly, frightened as she thought to herself whether or not she had pushed you too far. You brought her to mere inches from your face and smiled back at her evilly, now finally in a position to assert some level of control. You could tell she was starting to get actually frightened, so you chose your next actions carefully. 

“You said you don’t like to be teased? I don’t either.” you say solemnly with a smirk. Before Mina has a chance to protest, she sees you wink an eye at her. She breathes out a sigh of relief before returning your knowing grin. That was all she needed to see to know your true intentions. You loosen your grip on her neck and trail your hand back down her side. Meanwhile, Mina adjusts herself up to give you space to reach under her while also placing her hands on your shoulders. You both look down as you grip the base of your shaft holding it steady while Mina moves to line you up with her entrance. The two of you join foreheads and with everything in position, she breathes out and nods before lowering herself onto you.

The moment you entered her, you were enveloped in such warmth and tightness that you threatened to bust right on the spot. You could feel her releasing short puffs of air as she took you in inch after inch, both of you moaning in unison. When you had fully slotted in, you held each other close for a moment to let each other grow accustomed to the new feeling of being one. Mina was still sensitive from earlier and you had yet to find a release of your own, so even the slightest movement from either of you was magnified to new heights. After you felt comfortable enough to keep going, you lifted your head and brought a hand to Mina’s face to clear the hair behind her ear. Her head was still down and her eyes shut tight.

“You ok?” you asked tentatively. Mina took a deep breath before she finally lifted her head. She replied with a satisfied smirk, wiping away any doubt or worry you may have had.

“Mhm, why? Is that all you’ve got?”

You couldn’t help but grin back, admiring her confidence once again. “No shot. We’re just getting started, right?”

Then it was off to the races. Mina initiated the pace as she started bouncing in your lap, but it didn’t take long for you to meet her. She whipped her head back and moaned loudly, not giving a damn about her neighbors hearing her. “Ahhh fuck! Yes!” she exclaimed. With one hand you gripped her waist to support her ass while the other found its home on one of her boobs. Mina kept both of her hands on your shoulders as she continued to grind wildly into you. Every once in a while when she’d come down, she would squeeze her thighs and core on the rebound back up, ensuring you felt the maximum amount of tightness her body could give you. 

As the two of you continued to go at each other, Mina’s skin began to glisten from the work she was putting in. You didn’t want to miss your opportunity so you decided to mirror what she had done to you earlier. You caught her off guard by grabbing some of her hair and yanked her head back to expose her neck. It hurt her a bit, but the immense amount of pleasure she was feeling far outweighed the pain. You then leaned forward with your tongue out and gave her a long lick from her chest to her jawline. Mina cooed out her enjoyment before she came back to her senses. Feeling that her control of the situation was beginning to slip away, she decided to remind you of your place in the only way she saw fit. When you pulled back, she surprised you with a sharp slap across your cheek. The suddenness of it all shocked you, but she then immediately caressed your face before bringing you closer and surprising you yet again, only this time with a kiss.

Time seemed to freeze for a moment as the two of you sank into that kiss. Your hands trailed up her back softly, wanting to pull her in as close as possible. She kept both of hers close together cradling your face. As good as the rest of her body tasted tonight, nothing compared to the taste of her lips. They were sweet, tender, and moved with such a burning passion that you couldn’t quite describe. You pushed your face into hers not wanting it to end, but deep down you knew that this would be the first of many, many to come. Mina broke away first, pulling back while still holding your face as she longingly looked in your eyes straight into your soul. You just gazed back, lost in the moment. 

Mina smiled before she placed her hands back on your shoulders. She lifted herself up and resumed fucking you, but this time it was different. She purposefully moved much slower this time around. Much more deliberately. Instead of riding you wildly and treating you like her plaything, she was making it a point to really grind into you. With every bounce she rolled her body up while gyrating her hips to give you the most pleasurable experience imaginable. For the first time tonight, she was not out to seek her own pleasure. She was seeking yours.

Your hands were laid on her ass as she settled into a nice, slow pace. The change-up in her tactics would soon prove to be your downfall as you felt your climax quickly approaching. 

“Ughh…M-Mina…I-I’m close…” you panted as you clutched onto her.

“Ok…let me know, oppa. Don’t finish inside me” she whispered back.

You nodded as you shut your eyes, trying desperately to hold out for as long as possible. Mina turned up the intensity of her grinding, digging into you even deeper than she had before. She once again cradled your face wanting you to look at her. When your eyelids finally opened, you were met with one of the most beautiful sights you’d ever laid your eyes on. Mina's eyes were lidded, and the corners of her lips had curled into the slightest of smiles. In that moment, you felt the last of your strength being sapped away, but you no longer cared.

“Mina…” you moaned out. 

Mina knew what was coming and was fast to act. She quickly hopped up from your lap and got to her knees between your legs. Before you realized what was happening, she had your shaft in both of her hands and was stroking vigorously. When she sensed you were about to pop, she instantly wrapped her lips around your cock and started swirling her tongue around your tip as she continued stroking with her hands. If all that wasn’t enough to send you over the edge, the eye contact she made with you next did the trick. With a gasp, you began unloaded burst after burst of cum straight into her mouth. All of the pent up energy from her earlier teasing only served to make this climax all the more intense. Your hand subconsciously moved to the back of her head to hold her in place, not that she would have tried to leave anyway. Even though she thought she was ready for it, the first shot caught her off guard and she hummed out in surprise, but she quickly swallowed what she could to make room in her mouth for more. Eventually your orgasm subsided as you lost all feeling in your lower body. Mina did her due diligence and sucked hard to get as much of her hard earned cum as she could before releasing you from her mouth with a pop. She then closed her eyes and dropped her head to your thigh, sighing as she still held on to your cock.

You leaned your head back in exhaustion staring up at the ceiling, haven given everything you had inside of you. You took a couple of deep breaths while feeling Mina's head rest on your thigh and her hand still gripping onto your cock as if to stabilize herself. Mina looked as exhausted as you were, but she met your gaze with a warm smile. She then started moving again and pushed herself up on your thigh, bringing her face moving closer to yours. Her face stopped right in front of you, just close enough that you could feel her warm breaths exhaling onto your skin. You were gazing into each other's eyes, and you couldn't help but expect another decisive kiss from her. But it never came. She kept her distance as if couldn't seem to move any closer to you, regardless of how much she tried. After a couple of seconds of looking at you, Mina averted her gaze from you again and her cheeks, flushed as they already were from exhaustion, seemed to have grown an even rosier shade of  red. It seemed to you as though her proactive demeanor had faded, so you decided to give her what you thought she wanted.

You moved your face closer to hers and planted your lips onto hers. She pulled back at first from shock, but quickly sank deeply into the kiss, her entire body relaxing in the process. You both parted your lips to make way for your tongues to meet each one another. You took the initiative to explore her mouth, sensually prodding and gliding over her tongue.A slightly sour, yet salty taste permeated her tongue which you presumed to be yours. You didn't mind however, as the orgasm she gave you to produce that flavor made anything worth it. She pulled back from the kiss first, her tongue lingering slightly outside her mouth and a trail of spit connecting her tongue to your lips as she backed away.

"That was amazing, oppa... I hope you liked it too." Mina quietly spoke, her confidence clearly wavering, almost a guilty look on her face.

"I loved it. We should do this again sometime." you replied, comforting the shy girl. Her face lit up with the hope that she had finally found someone willing enough to submit to her, but strong enough to put up a fight, something she had always desired.

Mina's tight grip on your cock had softened, turning into a sensual light touch. Her wrist started moving up and down, and her hand followed the motion limply.

"It's still hard...Usually they've flatlined by now?" Mina muttered underneath her breath, her eyes fixated on your cock which was still standing resiliently. She couldn't seem to take her eyes off of you, and was unable to resist letting her hand give you an incredibly slow and weak-gripped handjob.

"Yeah, I guess this is as good a time as any to let you know that I basically have no refractory period. I'm not sure why, but... yeah." you explained to her, the occasional moan slipping out through your answer.

"So you could cum again right now if you wanted to?" Mina asks, as you perceive a spark light up in her eyes. Her hand picked up its pace ever so slightly.

"Yeah, I suppose I could," you answered with a hint of pride in your undertone, almost goading Mina into finishing what she was starting.

"Should I go slow or fast?" She asked, her gaze finally shifting away from your cock and towards your face. It seemed like she was genuinely curious as to what method would send you over the edge the fastest.

"Hmmmm...Kind of fast, but with a loose grip? And lots of spit. Use your other hand to put pressure on the base of my cock with a tight grip too, maybe?" you earnestly directed. She looked at you with her right eyebrow slightly raised, giving you a look as if to teasingly let you know she thought you had a lot of demands. Nevertheless, she complied, hanging her head above your cock's tip while using her free left hand to hold her hair back behind her ear. She  opened her mouth and slowly let a dribble of spit coat your member. Afterwards, she used her left hand to grip the base of your cock firmly and applied some downward pressure, just as she was told. The grip of her right hand didn't change but her tempo certainly did. With a rapid pace, she jerked you off with pure intent.

After about a minute of this, Mina tilted her head up to face you. "Can we kiss?" Mina asked, her eyes unable to meet yours and staring downwards shyly. You nodded your head yes as you let out a soft approving hum in between your moans. You leaned forward a little and Mina met you halfway, your lips and tongues meeting each other once more.

You almost got lost in the feeling of her soft hands engaged with your dick and her even softer lips wrestling against yours for control, that is until a wave of electricity surged through your body yet again. You wanted to pause so you could tell Mina that you were close to cumming, but she had no intention of stopping. All that came out of your mouth were muffled moans directly into hers. You started cumming again, half of your load landing on your own exposed chest, the other dripping down both of Mina's hands. The feeling of the warm liquid running down her fingers finally got Mina to stop, and she let go of the kiss.

"Could you hold my hair up in a ponytail for me?" Mina asked, pleading with her eyebrows scrunching upwards. How could you ever deny her request? You did as she asked, holding her hair together in a bundle behind her head. "Thank you." she whispered before shooting a half smile at you. She then brought her hands up to her face, licking all of the cum off of her hands whilst never once breaking eye contact with you. Next, her head moved down toward your chest as she stuck her tongue out. She slid the tip of her tongue across the crevices of your abs, slowly licking up every last drop of cum your second load had to offer. Once she was satisfied, she sat back and wiped her lips with the back of one of her hands and let out a satisfied hum.

"Huh, so it really is true. Sana mentioned you had stamina, but this is absurd." Mina commented, clearly impressed.

"Yeah, about that. What exactly did Sana tell you about?" you responded curtly, finally addressing the annoyance you felt with your casual relationship being outed.

"That you were really good at fucking, and really good at fucking for a long time..." Mina timidly replied, clearly having picked up on your frustration.

"So just so we’re clear, you know that it's just a casual thing, right?" You asked.

"Well, yeah... That's what she told me you were into anyway, and also why she kept reiterating that she thought I'd like spending some ‘quality’ time with you. I did by the way, in case you were wondering",  Mina continued to explain apologetically. 

"So you knew about all of that and still set this thing up tonight? Do I take it that you also want something casual with me…?" you asked, the annoyance in your voice now replaced by that of intrigue.

"Pretty much? It's like you said. We should do this again sometime!" She responded with a hint of glee in her tone, a gummy smile starting to form as the tone of the conversation shifted.

"Hmmm, well, as long as you're okay with it. Besides, the sex was fucking amazing." You relented.

"As long as you still put up somewhat of a fight when I tell you what to do, oppa! It’s no fun when they just mindlessly follow my orders" She responded cheerfully, throwing a cute wink your way before letting out a giggle with both her eyes closed in crescent moons. —

The sexual tension between the two of you settled down as the two of you grew more relaxed with the reality of the situation. You ended up talking a little more about the shoot that was actually still set to happen after she explained that it was not just some ruse to get the both of you out of your clothes.The end concept would feature a little less nudity however, but you completely understood why. As the night ran late, you packed your stuff and prepared to go home. You had said your goodbyes to each other already and were heading for her door, but you were suddenly stopped by Mina chasing after you. She grabbed a hold of your arm.

"Before you leave! Would it be okay to send me some of those pictures you took?" Mina asked, grasping for breath, somehow still showing hints of timidness despite your time spent together that night.

"Oh, the test shots? If you want, I can edit them tomorrow and send them to you after?" you replied with an assuring smile, trying to ease her worries.

"No, not those. The photos of you..." she replied, her cheeks going beet red once more as she sought something else in the room to look at. You couldn't deny you were also feeling a little flushed, but you were flattered nonetheless.

"Oh. Oh!" you responded before scratching the back of your head. "Right! Sure, let me do that real quick." You chuckled nervously as you quickly grabbed your phone, debated which pictures you felt were your best shots, then sent them over to your new lover.

"Thanks, oppa. Have a good night and get home safe!" she answered back, still too shy to face you head on, but mustering enough courage to add some volume to her farewell. "Yeah, have a great night too, Mina!" you responded with a big smile on your face. You then turned away and finally took your leave for the night.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: First of all, thank you to everyone for all of the overwhelming support of our first chapter! When we first started writing, we quite literally could have never imagined the buzz it would have created if we ever decided to post it for others to read, so once again, THANK YOU! We told you before that the last chapter was only the start, and we can’t wait to let you all fall a little deeper into our world!

[whimsiwitchy]

we broke up (one shot)

hugh jackman x f!reader

summary: you get dragged to a work event by your boyfriend of three years when Hugh comes to flirt with you. after you reluctantly tell him you’re taken, he backs off for the most part. a few months later, Hugh tells the story during an interview but little does he know you’re single now. 

warnings: implied age gap (not mentioned), flirting while in a relationship (kinda)

authors note: here's a little oneshot I wrote tonight. enjoy <33

You’d been with your boyfriend, Rowan, for a few years now. He earned a degree in marketing and immediately got a job for a studio. While he enjoys his job and it brings in good money, the events he dragged you to were unbelievably boring. The company he worked for always had big parties after a success on a project. At first they were interesting, often running into celebrities here and there given that it was the success of their movie, but lately you found yourself sitting at the bar more often than not. It was routine at this point. Rowan would show you off for the first hour, then he would toss you aside to fend for yourself. You weren’t the biggest social butterfly, hence why you liked to sit alone, drinking. 

Tonight wasn’t any different. You were at another party for the successful marketing for Deadpool and Wolverine. You’d heard a few whispers that the stars of the movie themselves were somewhere wandering around but you hadn’t had the pleasure of seeing them. Rowan dumped you at the bar a little over thirty minutes ago and you’ve been sipping on some fruity little drink ever since, completely in your own world. You made small talk with the bartender every once and a while but you were mainly people watching. 

“Mind if I join?” A deep Australian accent asks. You look up and see a gorgeous older man. He was wearing a dark blue suit with a pair of black expensive looking glasses. He was deliciously tall and had a thich salt and pepper beard. “Uh no, go ahead.” He sits in the bar stool next to you. He orders a drink from the bartender before returning his attention back to you. “Pardon me if this is too forward but you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” The comment takes you aback. “Oh um, thank you. That’s really sweet of you to say.” He looks down to your glass that’s nothing but melted ice at this point. “Can I buy you another drink?” He asks. “You probably shouldn’t. I’m taken…sadly.” You whisper the last part, unsure if he heard it or not. “Oh! I apologize for coming on to you. You’ve been sitting here by yourself for so long, I thought you might have come alone.” You huff out a laugh. “My boyfriend works for the company. He’s out there socializing or whatever.” You shrug and signal to the bartender, asking for another drink. “That’s a shame. If you were mine, you’d be on my arm all night.” He smirks. “Is that right?” You smile at him. Before he can answer, you feel your phone vibrate with a text from Rowan that reads ‘where are you babe? Time to leave.’ 

“Well, the boyfriends calling, I gotta go.” You carefully climb out of the chair and grab your jacket and purse off of the back. As you start to walk away, the man speaks again. “Wait! What’s your name?” You turn back to face him. “Y/n.” He smiles and repeats it. “I’m Hugh.” His answer surprises you. “Oh! Congrats on the movie. I didn’t even recognize you at first with the beard and all.” He laughs. “Bye Hugh.” You wave before walking off.

—

It’s been a few months since that night in July, it being September now. You and Rowan had broken up mid-August, both of you agreeing that the relationship wasn’t going anywhere. It hurt for a little bit but you knew it was for the best. Living with him had been awkward as you searched for a new place, deciding that he can keep the current apartment. You wanted a fresh start, which is where you are now. Tonight was your first night in your new apartment. You didn’t have any furniture yet but you were happy. You bought an air mattress to make do until you could afford an actual bed. 

It was around midnight and you were doing your nightly youtube watch. You were scrolling through your recommended videos when you saw Hugh’s face pop up. It was an interview posted a few minutes ago from him on some late night show you’d never heard of. You clicked on it, wanting to hear what the man was up to these days. The interview was a standard one, mostly questions on his upcoming movie about some sheep. You weren’t really paying attention, close to dozing off when a question peaked your interest. 

“So Hugh, it’s almost been a year since the announcement of your divorce and the fans wanna know…How’s your dating life doing? Are you seeing anyone?” The woman asks, wiggling her eyebrows. Hugh lets out a big laugh. “I’m actually not seeing anyone. It’s funny you ask because the last time I even attempted to flirt with a woman she turned me down.” The interviewer's eyebrows shoot up in shock. She gasps before asking, “How could anyone turn you down? We need to know the full story here.” 

“Ryan and I were at this party for the marketing team that worked on Deadpool and Wolverine and I saw this absolutely gorgeous girl sitting at the bar all alone.” The interviewer is nodding her head, engaging with every word Hugh says. “I eyed her for a while to see if anyone was with her but she sat there alone for a good thirty minutes before Ryan hyped me up to go over there. When I finally did, I ordered a drink and tried to play it cool but I felt the urge to tell this girl how stunning she was, so I did.” You giggle to yourself and you hear him tell the story from his point of view. “She thanked me and I offered to buy her another drink. I kid you not, in the prettiest voice I’ve ever heard she says ‘you probably shouldn’t, i’m taken.’” His hands go up to his chest, gripping right above his heart. “My heart broke mate. I flirted a little more in true Hugh fashion but she had to go. I haven’t been able to get her out of my head since.” 

“What a lucky woman, I’m sure she regrets it.” 

“Hey, I tried my best.” He shrugs before looking at the camera. “Y/n, if you ever break up with him. I’m all yours baby.” 

Your jaw drops, the sound of cheers blasting from your phone.  

‘we broke up. I’m all yours. @/RealHughJackman’ 

You hit send on the tweet and hoped it would be enough to bring him back to you.

thank you for reading <3