#Like how he takes responsibility from his past but also decides to move on and reclaims his identity as something separate

[callsign-datura]

retired!simon who you get to know after his last deployment. he doesn't tell you about his past, he doesn't tell you about what his career was. all he tells you is that he's a troubled man. retired!simon who you fall in love with, despite his many struggles and closed-off behavior. retired!simon who skips the dating period. automatically claims you as his spouse once you both agree to be together. he's an older man-- in his words, "too old 'ta date". retired!simon who cooks, does laundry, keeps things straightened up on top of managing to remember every date that is important to you. birthdays, anniversaries, holidays, etc. retired!simon who never had his birthday celebrated as a child and doesn't let you celebrate it, but also never happened to tell you why. you just assumed birthdays weren't his thing. retired!simon who comes through the front door and calls out to you. "m'home, love,"

he pauses when he hears you giggling. you come down the hall with a cupcake and card in hand, and you immediately go to greet him. "welcome home, si," you say quietly, your eyes sparkling with excitement. "i know you don't like celebrating your birthday, buuut i just wanted you to feel special for once since you've been working so hard recently." your expression softens when his eyes twitch and he looks away. "i made cupcakes, and dinner's done..."

you trail off as he shrugs off his jacket with a pensive expression. "si? is something wrong?" you ask, reaching up to touch his shoulder. he grunts in response, but he's shaking. he's shaking because he forgot about his birthday, but now... now he remembers being scolded. he remembers having a beer bottle thrown at his head during a fight with his father, on his birthday. he remembers limping back to the safehouse, bleeding out, wondering if his birthday would also be his death day. he remembers tommy nearly overdosing on his birthday. he remembers everything.

he looks at you, his pupils dilated. your eyebrows quirk in worry, and you murmur his name as you reach for his face. he tenses once again but ultimately leans into your touch, his lips quivering and his hands shaking at his sides. retired!simon who decides it's time to tell you. sits down with you, and explains why he doesn't like birthdays. he tells you about his mother, his father and his brother. he's vague about it, but you listen nonetheless.

you listen so closely, and you even begin to cry. he's surprised that you feel so much empathy for him that you cry over his story-- and he's slightly moved by your compassion. he expects you to be angry that he never told you, but... "oh, simon," you whisper, your tone thick with emotion as you look up at him with tears in your eyes. "I'm sorry. i didn't know. that's awful..." and you embrace him so tightly his breath hitches. he leans into the embrace and tucks his face into your hair. "m'sorry, love. shoulda told you a long time ago."

you shake your head back and forth. "no, don't apologize. it's not your fault. i understand why you would feel as if you have to hide this from me," you begin. "but you can trust me. i'd never judge you. i love you and i want to help." again, he's moved by your compassion. he's silent for a moment before he utters, "okay." "take your time. you don't have to spill your heart out to me now. i want you to do it at your own pace..." his chest tightens. you're being so accepting, so understanding, and he doesn't understand why. he doesn't understand how, but he appreciates it. your warmth thaws his heart and his mind, once frozen by his trauma and his history. he wonders if you're really willing to stick around. he knows it's not easy to deal with him. he expects you to leave after he tells you everything, but you don't...

retired!simon who decides to celebrate his birthday with you from now on.

[sttoru]

‘toji doesn’t know how to properly give aftercare — nor did he care to do so before. but, meeting you changed his ways of thinking.’

☀︎｜toji fushiguro x female reader. suggestive; fluff, comfort, angst. established relationship. hint of an age gap between toji and reader. mention of virgin!reader. mention of toji’s previous / past wife. grumpy sad dilf toji who learns how to love again t_t. reader gets called ‘doll, little girl’. self indulgent? yessir.

toji grunts and his exhausted body collapses to the side, careful not to crush you underneath his burly figure. he drapes one arm over his eyes with the other resting near his side. his eyelids felt heavy — clearly needing some rest after hours of continuous bodily satisfaction.

he had gone a bit overboard this once. even toji himself was feeling the aftermath since his muscles were aching and his brain was telling him to go to sleep. the assassin was about to, however his ears picked up on a little muffled whimper sounding from beside him.

“mmph,” you sniff. your face was still buried in the pillow below you — your tears and drool staining the material. your limbs were trembling and you were completely and utterly spent. you couldn’t even turn around to lay on your back; it was all just too much.

toji watches you with an unchanging expression for a second. normally for him this would be the part where he’d get the money, dress himself back up and leave through the front door with a small ‘thanks for your time’ comment.

but, that was his past. that was after the death of his wife and before he had met you — that was a dark time where he sought money in any kind of way to ease the hidden guilt and pain in his body. he’d sleep with women for a pay check. and maybe also to simply forget about his miserable life.

toji thought that he wouldn’t ever love himself nor another person again after his life went downhill. though, that thought was proven wrong by you.

you were a girl whom he had met on numerous occasions by accident to the point you decided to exchange phone numbers. you had also eventually started to help toji with his son - megumi - during tough times.

a sweet young woman: that’s what you were and still are in his eyes. maybe you were the change toji needed. the miracle to heal from his past and get himself together.

“hey,” the dark-haired man speaks up in a gruff tone after taking in your weak state. he felt a faint twinge of guilt deep within him since he was the reason you ended up like that. perhaps he took it too far.

you looked up at toji through half-closed and watery eyes. all you could do was tiredly hum in response, “mhm?”

silence follows. it’s not really awkward, but there was a barely noticeable sense of insecurity radiating from the assassin. for the first time in a good while.

toji’s eyes dart around the room in hopes of finding or seeing something that would remind him of what to do in such a situation. aftercare; he knew how important that is after sex, but had forgotten how to properly execute it. he hadn’t done so in a good few years.

that could also be an excuse. maybe he was simply afraid to show any kind of affection to someone again. maybe.

despite all of it — despite all those complex thoughts and feelings — his body moved on its own command. toji shifted closer to your side, rough hand slowly reaching out to give you some head pats. that’s the best he could do for now.

“heh.” you chuckle, yet felt extremely happy that toji had shown any type of affection toward you in such a vulnerable moment. his fingers massaging your scalp gently, over and over, was enough of a sign for you. a sign that he cares.

you knew all about his hard life; past and present. you accepted toji for who he was and what he has done and does. one of the only people who’d stay by his side throughout it all.

“thanks, toji.” the words that left your lips made the older man silently nod. his touch grew a bit more confident after your positive reaction. his hand traveled down to the nape of your neck and over to your shoulder, turning you around so you could lay comfortably on your back.

toji couldn’t help but let his eyes wander across your gorgeous skin. even if it was sweaty and covered in other bodily fluids, it still was one of the most beautiful sights he had seen in his entire life.

“you okay?” he asks to which you give a weary nod. she’s far from okay judging by the looks of it, toji thought to himself.

he hesitantly leans his head down to plant a quick kiss on your shoulder. that did feel a bit awkward, though it turned loving the more you positively reinforced him with your verbal reactions.

toji sighs as he tries his best to keep you as comfortable as possible around him. his hands grab you by your sides and he hoists you up onto his lap, gently pushing your head against his chest; “c’mere my little girl.”

you happily accept the affection toji gives you. it wasn’t often that he’d do this after sex and you understand why. it takes a lot to heal from his previous wounds and you were there to support him throughout that journey. the fact that he was trying was enough.

“you’re nice ‘n warm,” you murmur, eyes droopy as you snuggle against toji’s bare chest. the older man chuckles at your comment and his big hands come to rest on your back to hold you in place — to give you a sense of security.

you didn’t have any regrets about tonight nor about any other night spent in bed with him. toji was the only man whom you were content with showing your body to. he’d never judge nor hurt you in any way, unlike the other more immature men in your indirect environment.

plus, you remember how unexpectedly gentle the big and scary looking man was with you during your first time a few days back. he was the perfect man for you in your eyes—in his own way.

“y’r real pretty. like a doll.”

the sudden compliment forces you awake. you blink thrice, trying to make sense of what you had heard. was it your imagination? no, it definitely sounded like toji. that deep and now almost groggy voice.

you lift your head up and lock eyes with the assassin. he was looking right back at you whilst the pad of his thumb delicately wipes some drool off your right cheek. you quietly stared at him for a good while which makes toji raise an eyebrow in confusion.

“pfft.” you let out a short laugh. you were both embarrassed and amused at the loving words that the older man had told you out of the blue. it made you feel tingly all over in a good way.

“what? did i say somethin’ weird?” toji questions as his hands slowly roam all over your body like they usually would, squeezing and rubbing longer in some spots, “i jus’ said what i observed.”

there was no hiding that lopsided grin on toji’s lips. the soft sound of your laughter was enough to make his entire body relax and give in to the warmth of the moment and the love that radiates between you two. you really were meant to be with him.

“no, no.” you shake your head after giggling. your lips find a spot on his chest to place a kiss upon in response, “it was cute.”

toji huffs at being called cute. no one had ever called him that. it didn’t really hurt his pride or ego — you could call him anything you wanted to and he wouldn’t mind. his rough hand does however give you a light smack on the ass after that.

“y’re lucky i love you, doll.” he grumbles and nuzzles his nose into your hair. the words left his lips before his brain had processed them. it was probably said subconsciously since toji doesn’t realise that he uttered the three words. the three words he usually hesitates on saying now flowing off the tongue so naturally.

you weren’t going to ruin the moment by teasing him about it. you were just happy that toji didn’t think twice before telling you that he loved you this time. it was a huge step forward in your relationship.

you simply giggle some more before placing a kiss on his lips that he instantly reciprocates.

“i love you too, toji.”

[simpee9000]

Not Just Friends - 3 -

Prologue : Chapter 1 : Chapter 2 : Not edited : 4.3k words : M.List

Childhood best friends turned into something more, at least with the label. Katsuki Bakugo, a fast-rising hero and fast-learning guy who is ever so slow in getting attached to and loving someone. Even three long years into a relationship, and your friends even forget you're even dating. Nothing happening, spare a few kisses.. like 3 kisses, during high school. Graduated and living together, and you guys have done absolutely nothing to further the relationship. Are you sure you're not just friends? CW: Smut, brief domestic violence discussion, virginity loss, aggressive flirting from creeps, gore with pro hero stuff (lmk if i missed any) Applies to all chapters regardless of it is in said chapter.

A loud spark woke you up, a jolt coming from underneath you before you were pushed to the other side of the couch. Being violently pushed out of the dream you were in and into the land of the living. Katsuki was on the other side of the couch, where you just were, looking at his hands as small pops of his quirk went off. His face looks betrayed at his own body. Small pops until a bigger explosion rattled off his hands. Causing him to franticly wipe his hands off on his now torn-up shirt before he got to the sink and washed the sweat of his hands, and therefore the explosions.

All this happening within the minute you woke up was a lot. Watching him stand at the sink, defeated as he stared at his own hands. It was as if he murdered someone.

You remember waking up in the middle of the night, due to the bright screen of the TV. Quickly fumbling for a remote before you realized that you fell asleep in his arms. Cuddled together on the couch, his legs laying along the couch and you between them and laying on his chest. His arms holding you close. It was something you've never done before. It warmed your heart until you woke up to being pushed away.

"The fuck is happening Katsuki?" you pushed yourself from the couch, wearily walking closer to him. Trying to approach him as if he was an injured bird.

"Don't," he barked out, making you stop your approach.

"Kats?"

"I don't know," he felt defeated and it was obvious. His eyes alone spilled out his emotions. It was also obvious that he was lying about not knowing, something in the way he was looking at his hands told you that he knew. That he knew you couldn't be near. He stood there letting the water wash away his sweat.

You crossed your arms, frustrated that he didn't want to talk. "Is there anyway I can help?"

It was like watching a lightbulb go off in his head, "When can you get my watch done?"

"What?" you furrowed your brows, "How does tha-"

"How soon? Can you speed it up?" he cut you off.

It felt like he just wanted you gone, a chore to busy you while he figured this out himself. "Why? I can but why?"

"It's probably the only way you can help," his voice was honest.

You uncrossed your arms, wanting to take a step closer. "I can't get it done any faster than a week, and that's pushing it. I wouldn't be able to add the whole 'not letting people cancel your quirk,' I can get the password set though."

"Fuck it, I just want the watch as soon as possible at this point," only now did he let his hands out of the water, moving to dry them off.

Now you stood at the other-side of the counter than him, "Is your quirk acting up?"

He's been avoiding eye-contact till now, his hands sparking in response. "Something like that. I need a shower." He quickly pushed past the kitchen and went to the bathroom.

Without anymore guidance, and pure concern, you decided to get ready in order to head to the office and get his watch done sooner. Quickly getting dressed before knocking on the bathroom, a sharp explosion popping off at your knock. "Kats?" you called, getting a sharp grunt in reply, "I'm heading to the office, I'll get your watch done sooner if I pull later nights."

He said a goodbye and you headed out the door and to your office.

---

You still worked at Endeavor's agency, now Shoto's agency, with Endeavor retiring. He was still sitting on the name change for the company, not knowing how to go about it. His first actions were to hire Deku, Iida, Momo, Uraraka, and other classmates as pro heroes, keeping Endeavor's old employees as well. A surprise to you, and likely everyone else, was that he invited Katsuki as well. Giving him a rank alongside him, just like he offered Izuku. The biggest surprise was that Katsuki accepted it, alongside with a vow that he would leave the second he got a high enough rank to start building his own. Which he was slowly doing. He had a separate agency he worked out of with his other closest friends, but he was still coworking with Shoto. Only recently switching to actually work out of his own. He didn't want to leave his friends entirely just yet.

Shoto also promoted you, allowing you an entire floor for yourself and other techs that you hired. It was nice. Mei and you were the only ones of the floor currently. Leaving tons of empty space.

You each had your own office for paperwork and designing the sketch, an office for conferences, and a huge work room for actually making the support gear. It felt wasteful for only two technicians but the agency had four other floors of techs that were constantly working.

Made it a long elevator ride up to your floor through. Being on the 15th floor after all, closest to where the heroes worked.

A familiar voice calling your name cause you to look up from your phone, meeting Izuku's bright smile. "I thought you didn't work Sundays?" he said as he stepped in the elevator with you, pressing the button to his floor.

"Ah, I don't," you put your phone in your pocket, "Kats wanted me to get some gear done for him. His quirk is getting weird."

He tilted his head, "The watch?"

"Yeah, he wants it done as soon as possible," you nodded, remembering the meeting they had about it, "Has his quirk been doing this often?"

"I haven't seen it happen in a while, but I don't doubt that it's happening still," he nodded.

"It's scary, he won't talk to me about it," you expressed, worried about your boyfriend and hopeful his friend knew anything.

"He's fine, he's..he's just changing," Izuku struggled to put out. Pausing for the right words, "Don't stress over it."

You laughed at the idea, "Like that's possible? He almost blew my face off this morning with his quirk."

Izuku's face paled, "I'm sure it's fine. I bet it's something that'll go away with time."

"How can that be fine?"

The elevator dinged that it was at your floor.

"Kacchan will tell you eventually," he gave you a nervous smiled and pushed you from the elevator and closing the doors before you could yell at him.

"Asshat," you muttered, walking to your office.

Setting down your bag before you grabbed Katsuki's file. Flipping to the page of his watch. The drawings for the design were all worked out, just needed to plaster it together.

You had the materials to make the watch itself, just not the technology to make it disable his quirk. So you planned to get the framework done today so it would be ready for everything that was coming in the shipment tomorrow.

---

The transition into work was easy and fluent. Music pumping a steady beat into the air as you put each thing together. It was consuming the work you've been doing for the past six or so hours, making each step of the process more fluid then the last. A rhythm of the technique you've built over the years of working on gear.

You were sitting at your workbench, magnifying glasses covering your eyes, allowing you to see the smallest details that you were adding to the band. Quirk constantly activated so you wouldn't mess up in placements, needing the most practical design for the watch but wanting it to match him all the same.

After the framework was done in the watch, hollow for the functional aspects of the watch, you skipped to the details. Carving in a slight explosion outline, something you added on all his gear in the smallest parts. Showing it was his and only his.

It was well into the afternoon by the time you heard the elevator ding again. Music was blasting all throughout the room but you could still hear the faint steps of what sounded like metal coming towards you.

The brief thought of an intruder flashed through your mind. It wasn't uncommon for tech rooms to get raided, it was expected. Emergency procedures were added for the event though. A button was just needed to be pressed before heroes on the upper level were alerted.

That worry didn't last long, a quick check to your phone reminded you that Mei was coming in today. An idea hit her during 'breakfast', which was at 4pm, so she was coming into work.

Soon enough the doors opened, "Hey! Still working on blasty's stuff?"

You looked up at her, forgetting the glasses you were wearing. Letting out a gasp at her zoomed in face. To which she crackled out a laugh. You placed the glasses on the table, rubbing your eyes, "Yeah, I've finished all I can though, need tomorrow's shipment to do anything else."

"What's he having you do?" She made her way out of the door and towards your station. it was a huge room, used to make and test the supplies.

"He wanted me to make a watch for him, quirk proof and shit," you pushed the watch in her direction, letting her pick it up and look at it.

"Ah, lame, I was curious about his gauntlets. You always add cool shit to them every time," she placed the watch back down. Moving to her work station that was next to yours despite the amount of room. It was good company.

"I was probably going to start working on them, I finished everything on the watch, and I'm already in the flow state," you shrugged, pushing yourself up and off the chair. Grabbing the watch to put it in Katsuki's case. Grabbing his gauntlets instead. "I'll probably finish these and head out, been here since 9 this morning I think."

Mei hummed, "I won't be here for long either, want to go drink or something?"

You walked back to your station setting down the new materials you had to use, putting away the stuff you used on the watch. "Yeah, I'll have to ask Kats."

"Why?" Mei looked at you sideways.

"It's his only day off, I don't want to just ditch him. He is my boyfriend after all, I hardly seem him as is," you muttered.

"You're basically just roommates with a different label, I doubt he will care," Mei laughed out, "Come on, you deserve a drink just for dealing with his ass."

It strung, what she said. You already felt like you and Katsuki didn't pass for a couple, and Mei didn't fail to bring it up every time. You knew she was just teasing. So you hoped he would say no, just to prove that he wanted you around.

"Fine I'll ask," you brushed off her comments, grabbing your phone to text him

You Mei wants to go drinking, am I good to join her? I don't mind spending the night at home with you if you want. Kats Nah, do what you want. I'm probably going to go to the gym.

"He said yes," you breathed out, trying to mask the subtle unease with excitement. It felt like he's been pushing you away. Constantly bringing up how he didn't feel that you were happy enough. At this point you don't know if he was genuinely worried or if he was projecting.

"Fuck yeah! I've been wanting a beer, I know a good bar downtown," Mei cheered. You saw her setting up her station, prepared to weld some of her older protypes together.

"I got to ask though," you started, grabbing her attention, "So the other night, Nana texted me. Did she tell you why she needed my number?"

"Huh? No, why?" Mei set down her equipment and crossed her arms to look at you, curious.

"She asked if my boyfriend was hitting me," you breathed out, "Was hoping you didn't agree with her."

"Nah," she brushed off your worries, "I know Blasty isn't that type of guy, if I knew that's why she wanted your number I would of told her. I don't think she knew you were dating him."

"Good," you let out a breath of relief.

"Don't worry, I may make fun, but I know he's devoted to you," Mei reassured before clapping her hands together harshly, "Now I need to see if what I'm thinking works." She slapped her welding helmet down.

Mei was a good friend of yours, similar but different in many ways. She dug into your relationship but you knew she meant well. It was helpful that every once in a while she would confirm that too. Teasing that you guys were hardly a relationship while he was gone but teasing him for how he looked at you. Saying it was like a puppy that was trying to get a tennis ball from under the couch. Just out of reach.

She knew of the small aspects of your relationship, you've shared more to her than others, due to her not being in the primary circle of friends. She was your outlet, and she was also a good secret keeper. So you spilled to her the small things, after all it was easy to slip the details with how many night and days you've spent working alongside her. It was a way to fill the silence.

She knew how and why you and Katsuki got together. She knew about the crush you had on him from way before high school, and she knew of the odd first kiss you shared. And most surprisingly, she was the only one that you've told about not once getting intimate with Katsuki and in general. She knew how a kiss with him stayed a kiss and nothing more. How a hug was always just a hug. It was nice for her to know all the nitty gritty of it, it was refreshing.

You grabbed a welding helmet, putting it on and flicking it down to cover your eyes. Letting out a sigh as you prepared to work. Thankful that Mei was already wearing one, and got to work on the details to his gauntlets.

---

Before you knew it, you were seated at a bar, placed near the corner so Mei could people watch as much as possible. The bar was in a constant chatter, only some groups being overly loud. It wasn't anything like the bars that Mina or Uraraka went to. It was nice, the normal for you and Mei when you did go out.

You and Mei instantly ordered several rounds of shots, starting the night out strong. Letting the alcohol hit you fast and hard in order to stay drunk throughout the night rather than slowly get there. It was your routine together. Getting drunk then sipping on beers or mixed drinks the rest of the night to keep the buzz.

Mei took a long swig of her beer, "So," she smiled at you, roughly placing the bottle back down, "How ya been?"

"Normal I guess," you shrugged, picking up your drink as well, fighting slightly with the straw.

"Come on, there has to of been something. We haven't hung out solo in a week," she clasped your shoulder, as if she was shaking the information out of you.

You laughed, "I don't know, Mei."

"Really? Nothing?" Mei sighed. She tapped her fingers against the bar, looking around the room for some conversation. Her eyes landing on the TV above the bar, "Deku's getting quite buff, huh?"

"Huh?" you looked at the TV she was staring at. Sure enough, Deku was wearing a bright smile as he talked through an interview. It was a talk show, one he hated showing up on because the late hours, but it was good for hero ratings.

"He was cute during high-school but now he's a man," Mei emphasis with her tone, saying man more sharply than the rest.

"I guess? He's a lot taller now," you shrugged.

"I forgot you're lame," Mei groaned, "Only having eyes for Blasty."

A light went off in your head, "Oh, about Katsuki-"

"All I had to do was mention him? Couldn't of thought of this before I drooled over your best friend," Mei glared.

"Sorry," you shrugged, taking another sip of your drink, feeling the liquor flow through you. "He's been weird lately-"

"Weirder than normal?"

"Shut up, it's hard enough to think as is," you pushed her lightly, "He's been weirder more often. You know how he and I don't.. you know.. do that sort of stuff.." you were fumbling with your hands, not wanting to repeat the confession.

"Yeah?" Mei drawed out.

"Well he obviously heard us talking the other night, when I said that physical touch is my main love language. It's thrown him for a loop. He's constantly asking if I'm happy or if I want him," you rushed out.

"Makes sense, everyone kind of shit on the idea of not giving your partner your all," Mei sipped her beer, "I'd be worried too."

You groaned, "I know but I've told him many times that I want him regardless. And on top of that, his quirk has been acting up lately. To the point he wanted me to make a watch that turns it off."

Mei tilted her head, placing her beer down, "Acting up how?"

"Well this morning, we woke up cuddling and his quirk went off, almost burned the couch. Another when I hugged him, got closer to him, and even when I talked to him while he was showering. Which is odd cause the water should of washed anything away."

She sat on that for a while. Racing through different possibilities. "Doesn't his quirk go off with emotions?"

"It used to, I don't think so anymore."

"When you first kissed, wasn't his quirk off? Same with the next few?" Mei pointed out.

"Yeah? What does that have to do with anything?" you took another sip of your drink, waiting for her to get to the point.

"Didn't his hands spark whenever you tried to hold them?" you nodded. "You are so stupid," Mei laughed, "You'd think with your quirk that you would've known."

"Known what?"

"He's nervous around you! So his quirk pops off," she pushed your shoulder teasingly.

You shook your head, "No, cause why would it be worse lately?"

"Because he knows you want more! Simple," she clapped her hands together.

"I don't know Mei, that doesn't sound like him," you brushed past the idea, finishing off your drink. "It's more likely the opposite. I'm worried his quirk is just showing that he doesn't want me near in general, and that me having a different love language is his 'out' of the relationship."

"I mean, think what you want," she hummed, "But trust me, he is in love with you. He couldn't do that to you."

---

You stumbled through the door way. Fumbling with your keys and toeing your shoes off before fully entering. Trying to tip-toe through the kitchen, craving something sweet. All your drunk limbs cause do was make the ice-cream fall from the freezer and onto your toe, "Shit," you cursed hopping around for the pain to fade. Holding onto your hurt foot as you jumped the pain away. Hopping in the direction of the silverware before you fell.

Not letting the height effect you, you opened the drawer and barely grabbed a spoon. Sliding back to the ice cream container that was on the floor. Opening it and leaning against the fridge as you started to eat it away.

"The fuck did I just watch," Katsuki grumbled from the hallway, looking at you on the floor.

"I was hungry," you shrugged, scooping another bite.

He flicked the light on, making you hiss and cover your eyes till he turned it back off, "It's almost midnight, why are you home so late?"

Content that the light was back off, you continued eating, "I don't know."

"How drunk are you?" He crossed his arms.

"Very," you laughed, leaning your head back against the fridge.

"Mei is a horrible influence," Katsuki sighed, stepping towards you and lifting you off the floor.

"Nah, she makes some good decisions, and points," you argued, letting him guide you to your room.

"Like what?" he entertained.

"Well, I'm not sure about this one, but," you paused, "She says that you spark with your quirk because you're nervous around me."

His footing fumbled slightly, before letting himself stall for too long, he led you to your room, laying you on your bed and under the covers.

"Well?" you asked.

"Well what?"

"Is it true?"

"You're drunk," he dodged.

"Yeah, I told her it was dumb. You would of told me," you smiled at him, getting yourself cozy under the sheets. Glad that your touch didn't scare him away. Just left you concern what the actual reason was.

He flinched at how confidently you said that, guilt consuming his bones as he was doing the exact thing you thought he wouldn't. "Goodnight," you squeezed his hand.

"Night," he muttered.

---

A migraine was all you woke up with the next day, last nights events ruining through your brain. Main regret was how much you had to drink, cause you to puke in the bar bathroom, the men's bathroom at that. Mei went with you but it was still odd to rush into the wrong gender's bathroom and puke. Hearing their laughter while face down in the toilet.

The conversation with Katsuki also stung a little. Made you question what your relationship meant lately.

You turned to pick up your phone, blinding yourself with your screen. Rubbing your eyes awake before you could properly read the time.

It was just past noon, having slept in an extra four hours then normal. Your bedside table also had some water for you, with ice in a good water bottle that stayed cold. You already had medicine in your bedside table, so you fished that out to get rid of your migraine.

You smiled at the fact that Katsuki plugged your phone in and got you water, he might not say that he loves you, but he shows it. It shook away some worry that he was only with you due to not having a way out, but you were still worried at what it could be.

Before you could let the thought fester and ruin your day, you decided to go to the office. Wanting to start on Katsuki's watch again. The shipment came in around ten, so everything would be available to you.

After a shower and some breakfast, you decided to take a job to the office, wanting to get in a better mindspace so you were ready to jump straight into work. It was only a 20 minute walk as well.

---

Reaching the agency, out of breath and tired, you dragged your feet into the elevator. Grabbing supplies from the other tech floors before heading up to your own.

Walking into your office to meet Shoto.

"Hey?" you questioned, setting your stuff down on the table behind where he was standing.

"Sorry, Midoriya said that you'd be in," Shoto stood leaned against your work table, hands propping him up.

"Hope you haven't been waiting long," you apologized, walking around your table to grab stuff to start working, "how can I help you?"

"My suit has been off, the cooling facture broke, been having to do it myself mid fight," he went straight to the point.

You noted that he set down his briefcase, the one that held his hero suit. "That should be an easy fix, do you need it soon?" you pulled the case towards yourself, taking out his suit and looking for the cooler.

"I'm going to see my brother, but I'd need it after," his voice stayed monotone, but you knew Dabi-Touya was a sore subject.

You looked up from his suit, "I can get it done by then, is anyone else joining you?"

Shoto coughed, "I think Momo, she's been curious of his improvement."

"That's good," you smiled. The two of them have been close and she was a good pillar of support for him.

"Yes, I'll be back at three, will you be here after?" he looked at his watch.

"I'll be in office until at least seven, got a late start so i need to put in some hours," you confirmed.

"Thanks," he bowed a goodbye and went on his way.

He stayed formal with you despite knowing you since first year at UA, and working with you since second year. Having you do his minor support gear during school because his dad didn't let you touch his son's gear. Only the best for his trophy.

Shoto told him otherwise eventually, having you be head of design for his gear.

The two of you were never necessarily close, but would definitely consider the two of you friends. If you needed each other, you'd be there basically.

He's told you about his brother Touya one night over some cold soba. He wasn't able to fall asleep easily the month that Dabi revealed. So one night, you went to the kitchen hungry in the middle of night, finding him with his head in his hands at the island.

Your voice startled him at first, but after an offer of food, he started talking.

After that was when he started to let you work on his gear a little.

You looked over the small wiring in his suit, finding only a disconnected wire. Connecting it was easy enough, one of the fastest fixes you've had in awhile. You'd have him test the temperature when he was back.

Your phone buzzed from the corner of the table. Katsuki's contact flashing the screen.

"Are you in the office yet?" he asked once you answered.

"Yeah," you put Shoto's case off to the side. Recentering Katsuki's watch.

"Lunch?"

"Sure," you hummed.

"I'm meet you at your office," he started.

"Wait! I'll meet you at yours," you cut him off.

"Why?"

"I'm already in the elevator, I'll just go up an extra few floors. You're at Shoto's agency right?" you lied, quickly grabbing a few things before actually heading towards the elevator. You wanted to keep the watch design a surprise till you gave it to him.

"Yeah, it's Monday," he pointed out. He worked there every Monday.

"Anyway, I'll see you in a second," rather than letting you say a full goodbye, he hung up.

A sigh left your lips. He's been a constant off and on again with how he is around you. You wanted to stay glad he asked for lunch, but the abrupt goodbye was unusual, just like all his other behavior recently. Maybe the watch would help his quirk, and therefor the stress of the relationship.

Hopefully the relationship went back to normal.

-Next Part-

In them m.list of this fic comment if you want to be added into a tag list <3

I'll no longer add people to the taglist if they haven't commented there. It's too much to keep up with all the new part. Hope you understand <3

@americasass1942 @ofcqdesi @atashiboba @juicyfingers @thescarletwallflower @keiva1000 @snxwflwr @kazuumii @mushroomsneedystuff @ivuriexo @supersecretsamm @kaboomkayla

[stxrvel]

remorse (5)

series summary. the holy grail of the seven men who ruled the country's entertainment used to be your friends at school. now, ten years later and between successes and failures, what reason would they have to want to come back into your life? pairing. eventually ot7 x f!reader... or not? content. first of all, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes! curse words, flashback, a lot of remorse, fights, stubborn people, lack of communication, angst. a/n. its finally here. i haven't re read this chapter bc im almost falling asleep and i have to work tomorrow, but i'll give this one another look in the weekend. a friend of mine helped me with the traduction bc i'm really really burnt out rn. also, chapters names changed!! i hope you guys like this one! see you on the next one🫶🏻

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“Oppa…”

Yoongi raised his head, his body leaning toward the piano acknowledging your presence in the room, and you could tell how he was physically struggling to move away from the instrument. Under his watchful gaze, you walked in his direction shuffling your feet, with a pitiful expression and every intention of openly complaining to one of the elders in your group of friends. But you relaxed your expression when you were a few steps away, recognizing his notebook on the piano lid and the trail of ink between his fingers at a safe distance from the keys.

His laughter confused you, and when you looked up, his lips were curved into a pretty smile. It was annoying. He was only two years older than you.

“What happened now?”

You remembered that you had come with a purpose, but your mind, as evasive and suggestible as ever, found more interest in what your eyes had caught.

“The usual,” you barely commented, moving to sit on your legs in front of Yoongi. “Were you writing?”

Yoongi glanced over to find his notebook, his shoulders shaking in a sigh because he knew he wouldn't be able to escape this conversation now that you had discovered him.

“Something like that…”

“Can I see it?”

“It's nothing decent. I don't think it's prudent.”

You pressed your lips together at his response, letting your shoulders droop, disappointed. But it was what you had expected; after all, Yoongi was quite secretive about his notebook, and it was rare for him to let you get this close and know so much about him. Even though you had probably known each other since you learned to swim and multiply, and surely knew more skeletons in his closet than he would like to admit, Yoongi still had a reluctance to show you or anyonw his writings. You had to catch him at a very relaxed moment.

So you set aside your emotions, not allowing Yoongi to respond as you pouted, and crossed your arms while turning your head away.

“Taehyung and Jungkook got so competitive on the court that they kicked us all out,” you frowned, remembering how the two had rushed past you and stolen the ball in the blink of an eye, moving so quickly and with cheeky laughter that you barely understood what was happening until you saw them tussling with the ball in front of the scoring area.

They were already in extracurricular hours, and although everyone had subjects to study and delve into, they decided to take a moment to take advantage of the fact that the school court would be empty and play for a while. Jin and Namjoon had left the game after two quarters because they simply couldn't keep up, and since one was in your group with Jimin and the other with the two kings of competition that day, they decided to kick them out and leave them as referees along with Hobi, who was the initial one.

Surprisingly, Yoongi also didn’t attend the game or his extracurricular class, choosing to get lost in the music room, taking advantage of the fact that it was empty that day because classes ended early.

“I don’t understand why they have to ruin everyone’s fun.”

Your little thirteen-year-old self, ignorant of many aspects of life, could only cross her arms and complain. Yoongi smiled, his two extra years of age giving him an understanding that perhaps you didn’t have access to, because it was inconceivable to you that such a sacrilege could be considered funny. Basketball hours were sacred!

“They're just messing around.”

“Oppa, you should've seen how they were pushing each other,” you shook your head, refusing to believe that Yoongi really wanted to defend them. “If you had been there, you could've stopped them.”

“And Jin?”

“He was laughing with them.”

“Ah,” Yoongi turned his head. “So the second best option was me?”

You shrugged. “Well, I thought I could convince you to go to the court, but…”

“But…?” Yoongi rested a hand on the bench, leaning in to see you on the floor.

“Maybe it’s more fun to listen to you play the piano.”

You smiled brightly, intertwining your fingers while Yoongi wore a half-smile. Without responding, he straightened up again, adopting the posture he had when you saw him through the glass of the door, before you interrupted his concentration. His fingers danced in the air for a few seconds, touching the notes in his head, recalling sound after sound, until the pressure on them gave way to a melody unknown to you.

It had to be a new piece, a new composition in his notebook. Yoongi played, calm and serene, focused and absorbed, letting the sound flow as if it came directly from nature.

Seeing Yoongi like this was… a strange event. Later, as time passed, you would think it was unbearable to have to see him everywhere, to hear his name around every corner, but at that moment you were lost in him, absorbing the sounds of his mind that his fingers materialized on the piano, allowing yourself to be carried away by the tide of his emotions, the way he conveyed so many words with his touches. The fast and slow notes, the change of tempo, all so meticulously created and organized to send a message, to describe an emotion, to paint a scene.

Yoongi was scared. Perhaps nervous, even. When he finished his piece, you could only look at him in awe, his shoulders moving a little faster due to the intensity with which he finished, keeping his head down, as if processing what he had just done. His fear was palpable, his hopelessness and unease.

“Oppa?”

“I don’t know…” he paused, dropping the lid over the keys and taking a calmer posture. “I don’t know if I’ll do the right thing when I graduate.”

“Why?” your brow furrowed, and you leaned forward in concern. “You’ve always talked about it. And you have a lot of talent, oppa, I know you’ll make it.”

Yoongi gave a nearly pained smile, as if he understood something you had no idea about.

“Jin is going to medical school.”

“I know. But it’s what he’s passionate about,” you moved closer to your friend, trying to give him some of the support he always gave you. “Isn’t music what you’re passionate about?”

The black-haired boy frowned. The answer was clear in his eyes, in the way he played the piano until he was breathless, but the gestures of his doubts were there too: when his fingers trembled with anxiety, his eyes gaining more shine as the seconds passed.

“Oppa,” you called, trying to break the silence, trying to prevent his thoughts from eating him alive. “If it’s what you love, you’ll succeed. I’m sure of that.”

You saw how the haze in his eyes disappeared, his features relaxing at least a little.

“I probably only have your support. I’ll have to rely on that.”

His small smile constricted your heart. In that moment, you didn’t know what you could do to show him that it was enough, but you were also unaware of the reality that his words held. It was probably due to your age, the age difference with Yoongi, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that he would never be completely satisfied with that. You wondered if it was about you, just for a second, recalling the way he smiled when some of the other boys gave him words of encouragement.

Maybe he was just more vulnerable with you than with the others, but a thirteen-year-old's reasoning didn't go that far.

With your foolish conclusion, you came home that day with a heavy heart.

-

Speaking of loose ends and unresolved issues, there were some specific people who deserved to take home the award and the crown for the most intrigue of the century. Because when you entered Choi Dohyun's office, with Seojun and Yuna on either side, even knowing that there were things still pending answers and others you could barely understand, the last thing you expected was for those you weren’t even aware of to suddenly materialize, like a kick to the stomach.

But keeping your head high and your composure was something you had lacked the last time, and thus, against all odds, your face showed no emotion when you caught a glimpse of Min Yoongi storming out of the office looking angry, not even when his eyes moved towards your figure and his wires crossed for a millisecond, betraying his movements. The sound of his shoes against the floor didn’t even distract you, keeping your gaze fixed on the man who appeared behind the door, with a huge smile on his face and eyes that screamed that signing this contract might take more from you than it would give.

Min Yoongi flanked you, a nearly imperceptible gasp of surprise escaping him as you passed by his side, not even giving him a glance of acknowledgment over your shoulder, as if he were less than a mere insignificant dust particle, and he collected himself as best he could to keep walking, ignoring the astonished looks your companions shot him.

You flashed the biggest smile, a feeling of anger settling deep in your stomach, and you shook hands with Choi Dohyun, who was cheerfully introducing himself with a voice an octave higher than usual.

You didn’t miss the way he shot a glance down the hallway, where Min Yoongi should have been disappearing, and the bitter sensation in your throat intensified.

“Well, don’t take it the wrong way, I’m very happy because we finally have this,” Yuna beamed, raising the envelope with the contract as if it were her most cherished possession, just as they exited the large publishing house and the cool afternoon air greeted them, “but did we just see the damn Min Yoongi leave that office?”

You simply sighed, feeling the tension radiate from your brother’s body, who hadn’t separated from you since the moment you were ushered away by Choi Dohyun's secretary.

“That was… wow. I don’t even have words.”

Seojun rolled his eyes, and you had to suppress the urge to pinch his side when Yuna turned to look at you with the envelope in her hands while you all waited to see your father’s blue car navigate the avenue.

“Do you think… this means we’ll have more opportunities to meet the seven gods of Olympus than most people?”

Her smile made you feel nauseous, but out of her ignorance, you could do nothing but try to mimic it. Seojun, on the other hand, was making nothing but irritated faces.

“Maybe, if you work harder.”

Yuna let out another squeal of excitement, and you took a deep breath when she turned around to look at the cars again. Seojun wrapped his arm around yours, glaring at anyone who came too close, even by accident.

Your friend kept murmuring in disbelief, and all you could think was that she was probably holding in her hands the worst decision you had ever made.

-

Whatever the reason for your encounter with Min Yoongi, you had deduced that your bad luck came down to being out of the house. Putting a foot outside the holy altar of your home was proving lethal for your emotional stability, so you spent the rest of the day locked up, managing your social media and overseeing deliveries.

Dohyun had agreed that the publishing house would handle the entire printing, packaging, and shipping process of the books, as purchases were only growing with each passing day. His real offer was to leave you with nothing to do but continue planning your stories, because at that moment, you were a goldmine for him.

“Unbelievable! Jung Hoseok revealed the truth behind the distancing of the Korean entertainment dynasty.”

The voice coming from Yuna’s phone caught your attention. You lifted your head from the blank document on your computer screen, glancing sideways at your friend, who was comfortably sprawled on your bed with a furrowed brow and a conflicted expression, as intrigued as she was worried about what she had just heard.

“These past few days have been tough for the kings of entertainment, as the last public sighting of them was over a week ago when Kim Namjoon, Min Yoongi, and Jeon Jungkook left the businessman’s building and enthusiastically greeted all their fans. As good followers, we know it’s too strange not to see them often, and the last time this happened was when Jung Hoseok had the accident that prevented him from continuing to play professional tennis.”

Yuna looked intensely focused, biting her nail and awaiting the climax of the video. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, but you couldn’t deny you were a bit curious about what news they would share, knowing that the boys weren’t ones to openly discuss their private matters.

“With their reputations at stake and rumors flying back and forth [how exaggerated], Jung Hoseok had to come out to clarify the situation. His official statement, which was informally published on the famous app Whotalks, said: ‘We’re all fine. Please be patient with us.’ Whether his statement implies misunderstandings among friends that are in the process of being resolved or if we should wait for an official statement from their leader, we’re not sure. But it’s concerning the—”

“Why would they make such a big deal about this if they aren’t even sure what that post implies?”

Yuna paused the video, giving you a confused look, surely thinking you were immersed in whatever you were doing on the computer (nothing), too busy to pay attention to these “insignificances,” as you used to say.

“Y/N, you really have no idea of the magnitude of power these men hold over the entertainment industry. With a snap of their fingers, they could shake everything.”

“And why did they get so much power?”

“They earned it. Through their hard work.”

You couldn’t help the huff that escaped you. You didn’t find what Yuna had said funny because it was true; they had worked incredibly hard to achieve what they had at that moment. At least you knew that their beginnings had been humble. But it annoyed you, inevitably, because you couldn’t control the resentment shaking in your chest. Healing my ass, you hadn’t forgotten anything from the last few years, no matter how much you wanted to convince yourself otherwise. So much effort to force them out of your life, only for them to find a way to disrupt it again in a week as if they had some right.

What a bunch of audacious—

“Oh. A message came in.”

Your friend sat up on the bed, and you sent her a confused look.

“Messages come in every second, Yuna.”

“It’s from a verified account.”

Without lifting her gaze in your direction, you froze in your chair.

“Oh—”

Oh no.

“No fucking way—” Yuna stood up in the bed, exclaiming loudly: “Kim Taehyung is in your DM's!”

“Tell him to go to hell.”

“¿¿Huh??”

The words slipped out before you could think twice. From the tense way the words left your mouth, you could tell Yuna was torn between asking more or simply contradicting you. Her eyes moved from the screen to your face, her fingers moving almost imperceptibly over the device.

“You know, every time you make it harder to understand what’s going on with these people.”

Finally, she locked her phone and dropped it on one of your pillows. You had never been a fan; your friend understood that. She had never questioned you about it… except for that random afternoon in this same room when she asked too many questions, but after the encounter with Yoongi that afternoon, you wondered what moment or what would need to happen for her to stop believing that it was just a matter of taste differences and for you to have to tell her the truth.

Before everything that happened a week ago, you had never considered it necessary to talk about it because so much time had passed, and you believed you were at a point where things related to them really didn’t affect you anymore, nor would you ever have to interact with them again to warrant giving your friend a statement. But of course, things were different now, and emotions would continue to clash with one another, and you hated to think that their attitudes meant they were trying to return to your life, or at least get involved to some extent, which would imply, strongly, that you would have to tell Yuna what had happened.

“Have you ever thought that you might have run into him if you had gone to the convention?”

“Yeah...” you sighed in defeat. It was impossible not to consider that alternative, how things might have turned out. If you would still have this overwhelming resentment in your chest or if they would have carved their way back into your heart once more.

The foolish you at eighteen would be thrilled right now.

“And even with that doubt... don’t you have even a little curiosity about what he says?”

You preferred not to, to be honest. You would rather just rip out every memory from your head with tweezers to be able to return to a semi-normal life, where your biggest worry should be saving enough for a trip and not when those damn lunatics were going to leave you alone.

But you found yourself stretching out your arm to take the phone when Yuna handed it to you, a grimace of insecurity settling on your face.

“I’m not going to ask,” Yuna spoke, and you sent her a glance just as she turned on the bed and took her own phone to continue watching her celebrity gossip. “I’m not going to pressure you.”

You didn’t respond. You lowered your gaze to the device in your hands, feeling a mix of relief and bitterness. Well, at least she had given you the opportunity to worry about that later.

The screen lit up, and there it was. A new message from Kim Taehyung.

thv Hi. It’s Jimin.

Huh?

You ?

The read notification arrived almost instantly after you replied. With your brow furrowed, you watched the bubble appear from his side of the chat.

thv I’m sorry for writing from Tae’s account, but you blocked me

Ah. Ah. Right.

After receiving the notification that Jungkook had followed you a few days ago, and especially because he had shown up at your work out of nowhere short after that, you had blocked everyone else with an Instagram account, just to be safe.

A small detail.

You Oh, yeah

That Jimin was trying to contact you, considering the context of the whole situation, wasn’t too outrageous. When you studied together, apart from being the first to start teasing others and fostering friendly banter, he was also the first to try to fix things because he couldn’t stand hostile and tense environments. It’s not that you thought he had a chance to fix anything now, but maybe you were a little interested in what he had to say. After several days, it was inevitable not to feel curious, right?

After the bubble appeared and disappeared several times, the message finally arrived.

thv Do you think we could talk in person?

You No.

thv I promise it'll just be me

You No.

thv It can be anywhere you choose

You I said no If you have something to say, write it If you don’t have anything interesting to say, then I’m going to block this account too

thv No Wait Okay.

The sound of Yuna’s phone had faded into the background of your mind. You kept your eyes on the typing bubble, fearing that maybe Jimin would change his mind and decide not to respond to the questions swirling in your head. Now that he was being so persistent, you were more eager to know. I mean, it was the least you deserved, right? Some kind of answer, some kind of reason, a why. Something to explain everything, because the root of that growing resentment in your chest was due to their lack of communication, to their ease in discarding you like a worthless piece of paper, not even caring if the air swept you away or the rain destroyed you.

They owed you something, and you had the right to an answer. You could have moved on, yes; you thought you had, yes; living with resentment in your heart affected a person’s life, yes... but God would be the only living being on earth and in the universe who wouldn’t feel even a pinch of pain for everything that had happened. For the inexplicable disappearance, for the disconnection, for the destruction of an incredible blind trust that was woven with that friendship you believed to be unconditional but ended up being one-sided. Who could really blame you for being cautious of them?

If when you cultivated that friendship, that friendly love, the fruits they returned to you were rotten, how could you simply trust? Who could?

thv I’m sorry for what happened. I know this was very abrupt, and it must have been strange for you

Strange, for lack of a better word. Strange was a euphemism.

thv I apologize on behalf of everyone.

You I’m not interested

thv If we could meet in person, I could explain better

You I’m not interested. That wouldn’t change anything.

thv I know this goes beyond what happened this week, but I don’t want you to have a bad impression

You You’re a damn audacious one, Jimin Do you think it’s only the latest thing that would make me see you all negatively? Is that the only thing you’ve done? Or well, what you haven’t done either

thv Okay, I expressed myself very poorly I know we were already on bad terms before; I meant that I didn’t want it to get worse

You Well, honestly, I didn’t think it could get worse until now.

thv I’m making it worse

You Wow, apparently you do have awareness and common sense For many years, I thought you lacked that

You blocked the phone, letting it drop onto the table, your heart racing because of the audacity that man had to refer to what had happened as if it were just a silly childhood memory, as if it had simply been a stupid basketball game where you weren’t allowed to play. That only reinforced your thinking, the only plausible reason you had given life to over the past few years, the only explanation you had for their disappearance: that they never cared about you as much as you did about them; that you were never truly fundamental in their lives. Because, come on, they had built a friendship and shared memories before you appeared on the scene; they knew each other beforehand with a depth you could never reach, long before your name reached their ears. They had a connection; you were never ignorant of that; there was something in them that kept them united, something that made them understand each other almost on a spiritual level, and naively, you believed they had made you a part of it; that you had managed to be part of that connection.

But no, it was never like that. It was always one-sided. Whether you were a game, a case of charity, or someone they simply couldn’t say no to, you had no idea, but none of those options felt too foreign to reality. Especially considering the way Jimin referred to the past as if it had been a child's game and nothing more. There was never more for them. You should've known that.

thv I’m really sorry, y/n I truly wish I could talk to you in person I promise I can explain many things

His messages shone on the lock screen, and more than feeling curious again, you felt rage. So now they could talk. Now they could fucking communicate. Where was that willingness ten years ago? Five years ago, even? You never thought you would see any of them so willing to offer you what you had longed for, maybe at least to finally bring closure to the whole situation.

But you didn’t want to give them the right to become the victims in this situation. They had time to do something, yes, now you knew, and they simply chose not to; it was high time you really let it go. Let them go. What would an explanation fix now? When, if there was still something of the friendship you built, it should've crumbled to dust. Their willingness now meant nothing. If you ever saw any of them again, you would rather rip their hair out in a fit of rage.

You Fuck you Fuck all of you

And you blocked Taehyung’s account.

Anticipating any possibility, you also blocked Jungkook and hoped that would be the end of it.

Finally, you would try to seek true healing, because it was about damn time.

-

You y/n, I'm so sorry y/n? y/n????????????????

Oh no. Taehyung's going to kill me.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Speaking of the king of Rome.

Park Jimin flinched, tightening his fingers around the phone he was holding, which clearly wasn’t his, literally caught red-handed. He swallowed hard when his friend’s footsteps drew closer, circling around to face what he feared most.

“Jimin...” Taehyung began, his confused expression turning into caution, quickly shifting his gaze between the phone and the wide-eyed blonde. “Tell me you didn’t do it.”

Jimin shrank even more, pursing his lips, realizing there was no escape. In his defense, he had fervently believed for a moment that he would succeed. Taehyung hadn’t agreed from the start, especially given how angry Yoongi had been that afternoon when he arrived at the penthouse and how he had locked himself in Namjoon’s office, and the tone of their voices hadn’t diminished for even a second, especially not when Jin arrived an hour later.

Taehyung and Jimin weren’t sure what had happened, but considering the recent events, they could make an educated guess.

It all led back to you.

They were surely paying for what they did.

“I told you it was a terrible idea!” Taehyung strode closer and snatched the phone from Jimin’s tightly clenched hands. Jimin let out a defeated sigh, sinking back against the couch as Taehyung began to scroll through the messages, growls escaping his throat.

“I didn’t think she’d be so...”

Jimin hesitated, and when he turned to look at his friend, his furrowed brow silently asked, “are you serious?”

Another defeated sigh escaped him.

“You’re not fixing anything. If Namjoon finds out about this...”

Taehyung didn’t finish his sentence, but Jimin understood. But could any of them really blame him? Let he who is without sin cast the first stone! No one was a saint in that place when it came to you. At least he had the decency to try to explain things when the others just charged in as if nothing had ever happened (for now, Taehyung and Jungkook, simply because he still had no idea what had happened with Yoongi).

The problem, of course, was that Jimin was better at comforting someone in person than through messages.

“There's no going back from this.” Taehyung murmured, still focused on the screen. The shine in his eyes gave Jimin an idea of what was going through his mind, and he remained silent until Taehyung looked up. “We really messed up.”

“Did you need this reality check?”

“Did you?” Taehyung frowned. “I don’t know why you expected a different response.”

“Well, what did you expect to happen doing what you did?”

Jimin watched his friend click his tongue.

“What did you expect me to do? I didn’t think it would snowball like this.” Taehyung shook his head, and Jimin barely recalled with a shudder how the atmosphere had felt in the penthouse after Tae had posted that story about your books on his Instagram. “I just wanted...”

Once again, Taehyung chose to remain silent, but in his absence of words, Jimin understood.

To make up for it.

“Obviously, I’m not going to say anything,” Taehyung added, shooting a sideways glance at his blonde friend. “After whatever happened with Yoongi, I don’t even want to imagine how Namjoon would react if he finds out about this.”

“If he finds out what?”

Jimin and Taehyung froze on the couch, watching through the reflection of the TV as the person appeared behind them before they could recognize the friendly yet concerned tone.

Jung Hoseok circled the couch, clearly troubled by what he had just heard. It was evident he had just returned from practice because his hair was wet and he looked somewhat flustered, his cheeks flushed despite the chilly weather that night. He dropped his training bag on one of the armchairs, and Jimin averted his gaze when he caught his friend's eyes. It wasn't that they usually kept secrets and tiptoed around the others, but ever since Jungkook had pulled that stunt of searching for you at work when Namjoon had expressly forbidden it, the waters between them had been a bit tense, and any topic involving you could explode any healthy and cooperative conversation in seconds.

Hoseok crossed his arms, allowing his cheerful expression at finally arriving at the penthouse to fade completely, hardening his features as he shot a stern look at the two young men.

Taehyung also averted his gaze. The moment he heard Hoseok's voice, he tucked the phone between his legs and probably looked tenser than he should have. He, just like Jimin, didn’t dare meet Hoseok’s eyes at that moment. Because Hobi had stopped at the door, and with whom they had in front of them, they couldn't hesitate. They both knew it, they both understood.

And Hoseok knew very well. He was aware of all the tricks the two shared and could sense from their silence that they were up to something. Besides, of course, their conversation had been overly revealing. They had to be thankful it was him who arrived in the midst of their confessions, and of course, he would demand to have a conversation of such gravity with such freedom.

But no, in that house, secrets were not kept.

“If he finds out what?” Hoseok emphasized the words, urging the stubborn young men to keep their mouths shut.

Hoseok then exhaled through his nose in a sigh.

“Is it about y/n?”

Jimin and Taehyung lifted their gazes, a bit tempted but diverting their eyes as if pretending to be uninterested. While the atmosphere had been very tense lately, Hoseok and Jin had kept themselves somewhat distanced from all that unease, mainly because their demanding jobs kept them away from the penthouse most of the time. Namjoon, for his part, couldn’t escape the topic as easily since he had an office at home, initially to monitor them in a healthy way, and now because he felt the need to keep an eye on each of them to prevent them from doing something stupid.

Yoongi... well, maybe he had tried to stay on the sidelines, but he had clearly failed miserably if he had ended up arguing with Namjoon and Jin.

“What did you guys do now?”

Hoseok's severe tone was chilling. Jimin remembered the times he had decided to participate in his dance classes, the few that he taught personally each month, and how he had felt Hoseok’s sharp gaze and his blunt comments about his steps in front of all the students. It was as if he became another person. Although it was terrifying, the two young men admitted it was refreshing to see him like that in the academy, because he had lost a bit of his spark since his accident. Before, he only looked that serene and committed when he was at his tennis practice.

At that moment, however, Jimin and Taehyung appeared more reluctant despite his severe attitude, because they didn’t know if he would spill the beans to Namjoon afterward.

“And what happened with Yoongi?”

The slight softness in his tone made Jimin lift his head. Still with his arms crossed over his chest, Hoseok sat across from them at the table in the center of the room.

Jimin sighed, and Taehyung shot him an alarmed look. Are we really going to give in this quickly?!

“We don’t know what happened with Yoongi. He just arrived in the afternoon, locked himself in the office with Namjoon, and they wouldn’t stop arguing. Then Jin came in, but that didn’t make them stop.”

Hoseok looked up, scanning the hallway. Now the house was silent, perhaps more grave and tense than usual. Hoseok didn’t know how it had come to this and hadn’t sensed that atmosphere immediately.

“Is Jin here?”

“I think he’s in his room,” Taehyung replied, shifting on the couch. “He stormed out of the office a while ago.”

Hoseok grimaced at the mere thought, causing a shiver.

“Then it is about y/n.”

Jimin and Taehyung once again averted their gazes.

“Oh, come on.” Hoseok uncrossed his arms, more frustrated than angry at that moment for not being able to fully understand what was causing so many arguments among his friends. “I’m not going to go talk to Namjoon later, regardless of what you tell me. I just want to understand.”

The two young men exchanged a glance, Hoseok believed, communicating mentally. It was always strange but interesting how those two could understand each other at such a level that often they didn’t even need a look. They could support each other's ideas without overthinking it, just like they were doing at that moment in front of him, and Hoseok couldn’t help but think that this topic could cause them more harm than they realized. That these two were even hesitant to share something with him now, fearing to do so, considering whom they could trust or not, spoke volumes about how this issue was being handled and it was not healthy at all.

Hoseok didn’t know that Namjoon had been arguing. The only time he had talked about that topic with the others was when Jungkook’s incident happened, because by crossing such a clear and blatant line, Namjoon saw the need to have a group meeting to set some ground rules. But whatever had continued to happen that he was unaware of was creating cracks in the trust of all the members, and that didn’t sit well with him at all.

“I wrote to her on Taehyung’s Instagram,” Jimin began, looking down with his hands intertwined on his legs. “And I might have made things a lot worse...”

“Might have?” Taehyung turned to look at the blonde, who barely raised his head to meet his gaze before Hoseok interrupted.

“And what did you say to her?”

Jimin pressed his lips together. “I asked if we could meet in person, and when she said no, I just tried to apologize for everything.”

“Don’t forget that you proceeded to carry out a rather undisguised gaslighting.” Taehyung added.

“I didn’t manipulate her!”

“You spoke to her as if everything that happened didn’t matter at all!”

“That’s not how it was! I just expressed myself very poorly,” Jimin exclaimed, facing Taehyung’s accusations, who remained with his arms crossed and chin raised, clearly in disagreement with him. “You, more than anyone, know that I don’t communicate well through text.”

“Because you overthink everything. You didn’t even need to text her in the first place. I told you it was a terrible idea. Now she hates us even more!”

“Did she say that?” Hoseok intervened.

Taehyung gave him a disbelieving look.

“And I quote: fuck all of you.”

Hoseok took a deep breath, trying to process the situation. Taehyung looked angry, and Jimin appeared offended that Taehyung was so upset about what he had done, in addition to misrepresenting his words, if Hoseok understood correctly. But the brown-haired guy had a point: it had indeed been a terrible idea, and Namjoon would lose all his hair if he found out. He understood Jimin’s motivation for trying to reach out, but Hoseok felt Jimin had lost some tact in the process by approaching you just to find a quick solution. Clearly, the atmosphere in the penthouse was affecting everyone, and not in a good way. He couldn’t judge or blame Jimin for trying to lighten the situation for both parties, even if he could have approached it differently.

So Hoseok sighed, understanding the magnitude of the problem they had, and turned to the two young men who were now looking at him attentively, after recently avoiding his gaze as if their lives depended on it.

“How did you think you were going to meet her with the level of fame you have?”

Hoseok knew Jimin had acted on impulse, and perhaps addressing the underlying reasoning would make him think better next time, if there was one.

Jimin opened his lips slightly, confused.

“I... I don’t know, but I would've found a way.”

Taehyung scoffed. That would have been impossible because, surely, only after Jungkook, Jimin was one of the most recognizable faces in the industry and, therefore, couldn’t walk freely down the streets without having a horde of fans behind him within seconds. If, for some divine reason, you had agreed to meet with Jimin, then he would have exposed you too much to the public eye and you would have had more problems before getting any answers.

“There’s no way, Jimin.” Hoseok spoke, as the blonde shot a fierce look at his brown-haired companion. “We’re no longer in a small town.”

The two young men turned to the elder, putting their silly squabbles aside. A feeling of nostalgia and longing filled the air, embracing them and bringing to the surface poorly buried memories in the gardens of their minds; the gusts of Hoseok’s words uncovered them easily.

“We can’t afford that luxury now. We lost the opportunity a long time ago.” Hoseok reminded them, with a hint of discord in his voice.

Taehyung hated remembering those times. Having had his hands tied, sealing his mouth voluntarily, believing he had no other option... it completely sickened him. For a long time, regret had physically drained him.

“I won’t talk to Namjoon, don’t worry.” Hoseok assured them, and although the two young men should've breathed with relief, the truth was that they already felt too shaken. “But be more careful about where you talk about these things.”

“What things?”

“Fuck!”

Taehyung jumped off the couch when the voice came from his right, being the closest to the source. The three friends turned to see Yoongi, walking down the hallway from his room to the main living area of the penthouse.

“Are you guys sharing secrets?”

Instead of being scared, Jimin and Taehyung fell back onto the couch, letting out an exhausted breath. Yoongi shot a confused look at Hoseok, who returned it with a more severe expression.

“Come here, Yoongi. We need to talk.”

-

i hope you guys enjoyed! and thanks to my friend for helping my unresponsive overworked ass.

[Friend: I don't know if the tags worked. I'm sorry!]

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[strwberri-milk]

hiii :3 could i please request lads boys reactions to mc flinching during an intense argument 🖤

hello!! please read the request to make sure you're okay w the content - there are going to be the implication of something going on to make reader flinch during an intense argument but nothing specifically detailed

Zayne rarely gets riled up like this. He just couldn't do it anymore - he hated seeing the way you kept things to yourself and refused to listen to his advice when he just wanted to see you take better care of yourself.

He wasn't yelling at you thankfully but he was being much more confrontational with you. It's not until his hands come up to gesture mildly at your direction that you flinch, stepping back from him as you wait for his next move. His brows furrow, trying to understand what he just witnessed. When he puts together the pieces he's devastated that your response to him raising his hand is that he's going to hit you.

Zayne immediately puts his hand down, avoiding reaching out and touching you to worsen your reaction. You hate how pathetic you feel in this moment, unable to properly voice to him what's wrong. Thankfully he doesn't ask you - instead choosing to just let you come to him at your own pace. Thankfully you quickly come to him, knowing that whatever it was you were afraid of it's not actually due to him. You love him and you know he's going to take care of you.

He ends up spending the rest of the night telling you softly that he doesn't want to annoy you or anger you but he's just worried about you. The two of you have a good heart to heart that night, finding the perfect compromise.

Xavier also tends not to get very riled up. For whatever reason the two of you just couldn't agree, things escalating far past their normal threshold. Xavier tends not to be very physical when it comes to conversations but when he flicks his wrists in frustration, almost as though reaching for you you can't help but yelp and back yourself up against a wall, apologising desperately.

He has no idea where this came from, the confusion and sadness at your reaction stopping any sign of anger that he might have had. He offers his hand to you, wanting you to take it but also knowing he can't force you to take it. He's glad when you do, even if it took you a second, reassuring you that he's not mad at you, just at the situation. He wants you to trust him and you should know he'd never do anything to hurt you on purpose.

It takes a while but he'll also ask if you feel comfortable telling him what happened to make you react that way. The two of you talk about the situation and what to do in the future. He tells you that he'd never hurt you, ever and that you can trust him. All he wants is to keep you safe and protect you, he swears.

Rafayel is always very animated when he speaks and unfortunately this does end up being intimidating sometimes. You can't help the way you flinch when he steps towards you, his intention to be to try and get closer to you but the look on his face terrifies you. You immediately flinch, unable to look at him as he realises what's happened to you.

He's immediately on his knees in front of you, trying to get you to tell him what's wrong. The quiet feels awkward after all the yelling, but Rafayel is somehow always incredibly patient whenever it comes to you. He waits for you to tell him what's wrong and reassures you that he's here for you, not the other way around.

He'll hold you tightly through the night, reminding you that he loves you and he'd never hurt you. From there on he's very careful with how he deals with his anger and shows it to you, never wanting to make you feel that way ever again.

Sylus is aware he's intimidating but he never thought that he was intimidating to you. When a gesture of his makes you flinch back though he can't help but worry. He narrows his eyes at you, asking you what the problem is. Unfortunately, he isn't aware yet that this is just making things worse. You decide to try and leave, Sylus even more confused as he tries to understand what's happening to you.

You have to tell him that he's scaring you - beginning to scramble apologies much to his dismay. He immediately steps back a bit, telling you that you don't need to apologise. He wants to reach out to you though, clearly looking very conflicted despite his words. It takes you a second to clear your throat, telling him that it's okay and you just need a minute. You've never seen him this hurt before, the slight drop in his brows and lips makes it obvious how he's feeling, coming to him and apologising for your response.

He takes it well thankfully, telling you that you really didn't need to worry about him. He wants you to focus on doing what you think is right for you, never holding it against you. You have to convince him that you're okay with him and you trust him, choosing to confide in him why you reacted so strongly. He's glad you trust him, showing a more vulnerable side to you as thanks for doing so.

[neuvistar]

HI MARYSE thinkin' about tattoo!artist blade who thinks of ur whole body as a brand new delicate canvas for him, pretty tattoos going from ur breasts to your womb, and of course it's never without his " watermark " ( it's his name in mandarin ) on ur thigh<3 thinking about the way he's so proud of his works that he can't keep his hands to himself when he's (finger)fucking you

❝ HIS PRIZED POSSESSION. ❞ signed. blade . wc. 809 .

— featuring ┊tattoo artist!blade x fem!reader

— warnings / content warnings ┊all consensual! not proofread. TATTOO ARTIST BLADIE TATTOO ARTIST BLADIE!!!!, established relationships, v4ginal fingering, cunilingus, use of nicknames, feminine terms used, jus a TAAAAD bit of pussydrunk!bladie ♡ | 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒? @yngxing

— a/n ┊ANON U ARE SOOOOAURRE SMART. i loved this ask a little TEWWWW much that i decided 2 make a small fic out of it >:) THANK U 4 SENDING ME THIS… YUMMERS. (also… it’s been so long so i’m sorry 4 the VERY late response this is insane)

it’s no doubt that you were blade’s favourite customer, of course! you were his girlfriend! but yet, it shows in his works and the way he treats you. he can’t help it, really.. who wouldn’t be fond of someone as pretty as you? your body was delicate—it was worth worshipping in his eyes, it’s safe to say that it’s hard for him not to lose control. your perfect body was a sight to behold, blessing his eyes with newfound lust and pride. as he leaned in, his hands released your thighs as he dropped to his knees before you, his dark gaze burning with desire as he yanked your sundress up, baring you completely. blade admired his past work, absorbing the beauty of the tattoo on your breast, his initials over your womb, and his name over your thigh. “hmph. take those panties off and lift your skirt up more. i can't be doing this with your clothes on.” blade instructed, his brows furrowed as he pulled you towards his face. “don’t be shy now. it’ll be better to mark you as mine this way.” he bowed his head forward, his tongue flicking against your clit, the sensation sending shockwaves through your body.

"bladie!” you cried out in pleasure, hands fisting in his long dark hair. your boyfriend lapped at your drenched cunt, sparing no mercy as he drove you to the edge.. your back arching off the chair. the scent of his dominance and need fills the air, the heat between you both was thick and palpable. blade’s hand drifts to the side of your thigh, his thumb brushing over your skin through your dress. he growled against your pussy, the sound low and demanding. your face scrunched at the sounds of slurping and sucking from below; your hips arching to meet his tongue. “good.. so good.” blade suckled on your swollen folds like a starved man, feeling it pulse beneath his lips. he could sense the heat radiating from your core, making his own desire grow even stronger. his wet muscle flicked and circled, your moans growing louder and more desperate with each stroke.. it would be unfortunate if another customer walked in on this.

“pretty." he whispered, a wicked expression spreading across his face. and with that, he dove back in, his tongue plunging deep within you. his thumb toyed with your bud, the sensitive nub pulsing in response to his touch. letting out a rough guttural moan, his hands released your thigh to caress the tattoo on your womb, admiring his work once more as the ache in his groin grew more intense with each passing second. “mine.. mine.” sweat glistened on your bodies as you moved together, the room filled with the sounds of your sounds of pleasure. blade was determined to make you feel every ounce of ecstasy and pride he had in his body. he wanted this, he wanted to claim you.. show just how—proud he is of his work.

“.. can you take my fingers?” he asked you suddenly, his voice muffled against your cunt. “these fingers that have worked tirelessly to show everyone you belong to me.” his words are a mix of semi-praise and tease, his fingers spreading your lips open, watching as the slickness coats his digits. he’s enjoying this, the control he has over your body, the way you respond to his touch. “these tattoos.. are staying here forever.” his finger slid inside, stretching you completely wide. he loved this part, making you helplessly needy for his touch. blade knew he could take your body to the edge and back, control you completely.. a slow, sensual invasion meant to calm your nerves and ground you in the here and now. his eyes locked on your face, gauging your reactions and facial expressions. fuck, he knew you hated this combination. you hated that stupid combination of his fingers and his tongue, knowing it’ll make you cum quicker than usual.

blade couldn't get enough of you. no matter how many times he’d touch you, draw tattoos on you, kissed you, it was never enough for him. he wanted more, and he demanded for more. he could cover your entire body up with tattoos for all he cares! his talented tongue delved deeper, flicking and teasing your heat mercilessly. blade absolutely delighted in making you squirm, taking pleasure in your moans and whimpers… you were overwhelmed with everything, especially when blade’s fingers slipped in and out so easily like this. it was almost impressive. he hummed appreciatively at your wetness, a testament to how much you craved his touch.

“so wet.” blade muttered against your pussy, his voice thick with lust. "every touch, every kiss, every orgasm, it all belongs to me. no one else gets to enjoy your sweet body like this.”

…

“especially with my name signed on your womb.”

[atomicami]

comfort crowd

boyfriend’s mom!abby anderson x fem!reader

- summary: you’ve been dating your boyfriend for 2 years now, until all of a sudden he starts to act differently around you. one night, you come over to his place to see him, only to discover that he’s out cheating on you with another girl. as a result, you receive comfort from the person you’d least expect—his mother.

- content: smut MDNI, no outbreak/modern au, older/milf!abby, age gap (reader is 20, abby is 38), reader is in college, owen (he is mentioned a lot but does not make an appearance), mentions of past teen pregnancy, abby and owen are divorced, infidelity/cheating, reader has her first intimate experience with a woman, kinda softdom!abby, oral & fingering (r!receiving), squirting, scissoring, slight edging, and i think that’s it but lmk if i missed anything else

- author’s note: it’s finally here, sorry this one took me so long…i’ve been a bit nervous to do this pairing but it did win the poll i posted a while back so yeah…i also have to say that this fic took a lot of work and effort for me to write out, so i really hope y’all enjoy it 🤍

You were wishing that your suspicions about your boyfriend weren’t true.

A little over two years ago was when you first met Andrew Anderson-Moore. It was during your senior year of high school and your family had just moved to the city as a result of a job offer that your father had received. Having to start over at a new school was scary for you, but meeting Andrew made that experience a little better.

The two of you connected instantly, and it didn’t take long for you both to start dating and make it official. On your first month anniversary of being together, you two decided to introduce each other to your families. You brought Andrew to meet both of your parents first, and he brought you to meet his dad first before meeting his mom a week later.

Now you’re in your third year of college, still maintaining your loyalty towards him, and you still keep in touch with his parents as well, preferably with his mom, Abigail.

You enjoyed being with Abigail just as much as you did with your boyfriend. She was always so attentive and caring towards you, she treated you as if you were her own. Ever since Andrew had introduced you to her, you’d always make sure to be formal towards her no matter what, even though she could truly care less about it.

“Hi, Ms. Anderson, it’s nice to meet you,” you tell her kindly, removing yourself from your boyfriend’s embrace to shake her hand.

She flashes a smile back at you as she shakes your hand. “It’s nice to meet you too, sweetheart, there’s no need to be so formal though,” she tells you.

“Oh I’m sorry, Abigail—“

“Abby.” She corrects you. “Abby is just fine.”

You simply nod at her in response.

“Alright then, Abby.”

After dinner had passed that day, and you were bringing all the dishes to the sink to wash them, you ended up overhearing Abby say this to her son:

“Make sure you treat her well, Andrew. She’s a sweet girl, definitely a keeper.”

Even though you figured that Abby would be nothing more to you than your boyfriend’s mother, the way she said that to Andrew made you feel unusual inside…But you figured that you were feeling that way simply because it was just a genuine compliment from her.…right?

Since that day, you’ve been close with Abby since then, and Andrew has managed to treat you like royalty.

That is…until a couple of weeks ago when he arrived back from a guy’s trip with his father. You began to take note of the suspicious behavior he’s been having towards you lately. The way he’d hide his phone when he’s around you, how he’d avoid eye contact with you when you ask him about things, and how he’d leave every so often without telling you. It eventually got to the point where you needed to go and address it to him.

And that’s how you got here right now: sitting in your car in the driveway of his mom’s house on a gloomy Saturday night.

You muster up the courage to grab your bag and exit your car before locking it and walking the few steps over to the front door. After taking a deep breath, you step forward and knock on the door. Hoping it would be him answering the door, you’re quick to see Abby answer it instead. “Hey sweetheart,” she says to you. “What are you doing here so late?”

You look up to see Abby looking down at you with a soft smile. She was still in her scrubs with her white coat in her other hand, and with a bunch of little blonde flyaways sticking out of her hair. It looked like she had just gotten back from her shift at the hospital.

“Oh, Ms. Anderson…I was wondering if Andrew was here, by any chance? I need to talk to him about something.” you ask her, praying the answer would be what you’d expect it to be.

Abby let out a sigh and shook her head. “I’m afraid not, sweetheart…Owen dropped him off this morning and he left the house right before I was about to leave for work. I honestly thought he’d be spending the day with you today.”

Although Andrew was an adult now, he still managed to make visits between his mom and dad. Abby and Owen have been divorced for years now, but at the very beginning, they were once dating as high school sweethearts. It wasn’t until Abby had gotten pregnant from him during her senior year, and as a result, he’d figured the best and most traditional way was for them to get married after graduation.

Things were good for the couple so far…until one day, shortly after Andrew’s first birthday, Abby had gotten home early from school only to find her husband in bed with another woman, which instantly led to them getting divorced with joint custody of their son. She felt like she should’ve been hurt and heartbroken about that, but for some reason she just…didn’t. It was almost as if she was falling out of love with Owen anyway, and his cheating was just the sign for her to divorce him.

Even though Abby was the victim in that situation, she didn’t want to tell Andrew about it so as to not damage his relationship with his father. Instead, she made sure to raise him to be a loyal, trustworthy man, just so he wouldn’t end up turning out to be just like his father.

She raised him to make sure that he wouldn’t end up hurting you.

You let out a sigh, looking over at your car before back at her. “Alright, um, I’ll just head out, then…”

As you were about to leave, you felt Abby’s hand gently grab your shoulder, causing you to turn around. “Hold on, um…would you like to come inside? I can’t have you driving around in this awful weather, maybe you can just wait for him in the meantime, yeah?”

You hesitated for a moment, but to be fair, Abby did have a point. It’s been storming so much these days, and based on the few drops you felt land on your shoulder, it seemed like it was going to happen again tonight.

You give Abby a nod, accepting her offer. She steps over to the side, clearing the way for you to enter inside before closing the door behind you.

“Have a seat, sweetheart,” Abby offers, gesturing you towards her couch. “I’m gonna take a quick shower and order some takeout if you’d like? I uh, don’t plan on doing anything tonight…” she continues, stuffing her hands in her pockets.

You nod back at her and set your bag down on the couch before sitting yourself down. “That’s alright with me…Thanks again, Ms. Anderson.”

“Abby, sweetheart,” she replies, correcting you.

“Right, thank you, Abby.”

You watch as she turns around and heads upstairs to her room. Once the shower turns on, you can’t help but get a feeling of deja vu passing through you, remembering that certain day like it was yesterday.

Now, the thought of being with a woman never really crossed your mind, but for some reason, you couldn’t help but find Abby to be so…attractive. You assumed it was just a silly little crush and set it aside because there was no way that Abby would see you as anything more than her son’s girlfriend.

But it wasn’t until about a month ago, that you decided to spend the night at Andrew’s place. It was around 1 am, and you had left Andrew’s bedroom to use the bathroom. As you were just about to go in, you couldn’t help but peek into Abby’s room as you were passing by.

The door of her bathroom was creaked open, the shower was currently running, and while Abby was undressing herself from her scrubs, you couldn’t help but keep your eyes fixed on her figure. Her back, her arms, her hands…you were feeling so attracted to her, to where a wave of arousal was hitting you instantly. You were getting so turned on by her in the way that you should be feeling towards her son instead.

Your gaze kept lingering on her, but once you noticed her blue eyes locking with yours, you quickly rushed back to Andrew’s room. This led you to have to wake up your boyfriend just to have sex with him, all with the sinful thoughts of his mother on your mind.

And even though neither you nor Abby brought up that incident the next morning, she had a strong feeling that those sounds that you were making that night were meant for her.

The sound of thunder startles you. You look out the window to see that it has already begun pouring outside. You were definitely going to be here for a while now, but you didn’t mind it. Abby always provided good company to you anyway.

You watch as the rain keeps pattering down, hitting the glass of the window. Your hand feels the vibration of your phone followed by a chime, causing you to look down at your screen and check the notification you just received.

Abby shuts off the water in the shower once she’s finished, making sure to keep it quick so as to not leave you waiting for so long. She then quickly changed into a shirt and sweatpants before shutting off the lights and leaving her bedroom.

As Abby began to head downstairs, she could hear a faint sniffling sound coming from the living room. It sounded like you were crying. This led to her rushing even quicker now to the living room, walking in to see you quietly crying, your dimly lit phone in one hand while your face was buried in the other, collecting all of your tears.

Concerned, she slowly began to approach you. “Hey, hey sweetheart…what’s the matter?” she asks calmly, sitting down next to you on the couch and placing a hand on your shoulder.

All you could do was shake your head in response. You were so choked up on your tears that you couldn’t even speak. You felt Abby get closer to you, trying to take a look at what was on your phone. You quickly hid it away from her, but it was too late. She had already caught a glimpse of the familiar figure that was on the screen.

Her hand makes contact with yours, trying to get ahold of your phone. “Let me see,” she tells you in a commanding, yet gentle tone.

You couldn’t help but give in, slowly loosening your grip on your phone, now letting her have it in her possession. Once the phone was in her hands she took a closer look at the screen, eyes widening in shock and disbelief. She couldn't believe what was seeing right now.

It was a picture of Andrew, her son, out at a party, with his lips attached to another girl’s, that clearly wasn’t his girlfriend.

Abby was just as shocked as you were. But she wasn’t just shocked. She was enraged, enraged at the fact that her own son had gone behind your back and hurt you like this. You were the sweetest, kindest soul she’d ever met, how could he, or anyone manage to break your heart with no remorse whatsoever?

Along with that, Abby couldn’t help but feel disappointed either. She spent the past twenty years raising her son to not be a cheat like his father was. But at that moment, after seeing that photo and the state you are in right now, she felt like she failed as a mother.

At that moment, she wanted to make things right.

Not only that…she wanted to make you forget about her son and make up for how he treated you.

Abby sets your phone down and reaches for her own that was on the coffee table. You try to stop her from doing so, knowing that she is going to call her son right now. “I-I tried calling h-him,” you choked out, grabbing at her forearms. “H-He didn’t respond.”

Abby gently shakes your hands away from her arms and grabs her phone before quickly unlocking it. “He’ll respond to me, sweetheart, trust me,” she tells you sternly, getting up from the couch and making her way back upstairs to her room before closing the door.

She was definitely right about that. It didn’t take long for you to hear the muffled shouting coming out of Abby’s room. Even through the thick walls of her house, you could hear her clear as day:

“Andrew, what the hell were you thinking?! Your girlfriend is here in my house, worried sick about you and you’re at a fucking party cheating on her with another girl?! I didn’t raise you to be like this. If you wanna keep this act up, then go stay with your father, Andrew. I don’t want you coming back here until I say otherwise.”

Despite that Abby was in your defense about this, you couldn’t help but feel so overwhelmed. You honestly wished you hadn’t come here in the first place. Even though it was storming harshly outside, you felt like the best thing was to just go home. This was the last place you wanted to be at right now.

Once Abby had finished talking on the phone, she then went back downstairs to the living room, only to see you heading towards the front door to leave. She quickly stops you before your hand grabs the doorknob. “Hey, where are you going? I told you it’s too dangerous for you to drive out there right now.”

You ignore her and make the effort to push her away and get to the door, but her strong figure wouldn’t budge at all. “I-I need to go, Ms. Anderson, I can’t—“ Your words get cut off as Abby begins to wrap her arms around you, enclosing your surroundings into a hug.

You couldn’t help but give in to her embrace, burying your face into her chest and sobbing into it, instantly staining the soft cotton of her shirt with your tears. The way you were acting right now was hurting Abby inside. It hurt her to know that her son was the one that caused your heart to break into a million pieces, especially knowing how much you loved him. She was willing to do anything right now to take that pain away from you.

“Listen, sweetheart…” She says, slightly pulling away to get a look at you. “I told Andrew to stay at Owen’s in the meantime, okay? You don’t have to worry about him coming here.” she takes another deep breath before continuing. “I didn’t raise my son to be like this, sweetheart…I’m sorry.”

You look up at her and shake your head in response. “I-It’s okay, Ms. Anderson, it’s not your fault…”

The warmth from one of her hands reaches your face, wiping the tears off of your cheeks “I’d like you to stay here for a bit, okay? I don’t want you going out in that storm and getting hurt…I can’t afford to lose what my son couldn’t keep.”

It was clear that Abby didn’t mean for that last sentence to slip, and she didn’t notice that she was thinking out loud until she saw your eyes widen in shock. You couldn’t help but wonder if Abby was having those same feelings towards you as well…

Your gaze shifts away for a second, and you quickly wipe the rest of your tears before looking back up at her. “As much as I’d like to, Ms. Anderson…I really don’t want to be here right now…Everything here just reminds me of him…”

You notice Abby hesitate for a moment. “Do you, uh, want to go to my room instead? Will that help?” she says, practically trying not to sound desperate. She resisted the need to beg for it, but if that was convincing enough for you to stay with her, she would be on her knees in an instant.

“Yeah…That would be a lot better, actually…”

Abby’s arm moves down to the small of your back before keeping you close to her side as you follow her upstairs to her bedroom, which was at the end of the hall. Before you go in, you couldn’t help but turn your head at the room you had just passed—Andrew’s bedroom. You were already thinking about having to eventually go in there and take your things out of his room. The thought of it was already making you sick.

Abby places a hand on your shoulder, causing you to get slightly startled before looking up at her. “You know you don’t have to go in there yet, right?” she assures you, squeezing your shoulder. “I can even get your things out of his room if you need me to.”

You simply nod and smile back at her as a silent ‘thank you’ before turning the knob of her bedroom and letting yourself in.

Upon entering, you realize how much Abby’s room differs from her son’s. Her room was painted in a shade of light blue, her bed was neatly made just as she had it in the morning. On your left, there was her dresser followed by some weights next to it, and on your right was the entrance to her bathroom. That same bathroom you had peeked into not that long ago.

“Your room is nice,” you tell her, your eyes still fixed on your surroundings. “Definitely a lot nicer than Andrew’s.”

Abby lets out a chuckle from behind. “Yeah, I know, he’s always been so unorganized.” she then hesitates for a moment before continuing. “However, there’s always been something in his room that mine doesn’t have…”

You slowly turn around to face her, noticing her starting to approach you. “What’s that?”

She stops in her tracks once she’s in front of you, gently placing her hand on your chin and lifting it up so you can see her.

“…you.”

A smile crept up on your face in reaction to her words. “Is that so? Well…”

You pause for a moment, looking at your surroundings before looking back up at her and leaning in, just close enough to where your lips were just inches away from hers.

“I like it better here anyway,” you whisper back to her.

And with that, Abby gives in and seals your words with a kiss, and you just can’t help but kiss her back. The both of you knew that this was wrong, Abby was your boyfriend’s mother for Christ’s sake.

But if it’s such a bad thing, why did it feel so good for the two of you?

You feel Abby’s hand in front of you, slightly pushing you back so you can sit down on her bed. Once you land on her bed, she drops down to her knees to your height, still maintaining her lips with yours before pulling them away momentarily to strip you down.

Her hands first meet with the hem of your shirt, gently tugging it upwards to get it off. You bring your hands up as she fully discards you from your shirt and toss it to the ground. As she now works on getting your jeans off, you unhook your bra and slowly remove it before tossing it next to your shirt.

Abby looks up for a moment, only for her gaze to linger at the mere sight of your topless self. “My god…” she says in awe, moving both of her hands to your tits. “You look so beautiful…I can’t believe he gets to see this…gets to touch this…”

With her hands still cupping your tits, she leans in to kiss one of them, causing a moan to escape from your mouth. One of her hands moves back to the button of your jeans, and she instantly gets them undone with just a single hand. Her mouth is soon off of your nipple followed by her other hand, now hardened just from the contact of her lips and fingers. You were easily getting so turned on by her, and she knew it.

However, now that your jeans were gone and your underwear was shifted to the side, you couldn’t help but stop her once she was about to dive in between your legs. “W-Wait…” you said, gently pushing her head away from your soaked cunt.

Abby paused her movements immediately, pulling her head away and looking up at you. “What? What is it?” she asks with some slight concern in her voice.

You hesitate for a moment. You genuinely don’t know how you’re going to be able to confess this to her.

“You, um…you don’t have to do it, i-if you don’t want to—“

“But I want to,” she replied firmly, instantly cutting off the rest of your words. “Do you not want me to?”

You shake your head quickly in response. “N-No, I do, I really do, I just thought—“

“Thought what? What did you think?” she asks you, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

It didn’t take long for Abby to get the message. She knew why you were being so hesitant about this. To her, it felt like she was one step away from finally being able to not only taste you but to give you the pleasure that you deserved. But to you, you couldn’t help but simply feel like a burden to her, just like how it was with her son.

“Wait a minute…Has Andrew not been doing this to you?”

Your gaze drifts off to the side, and she takes your lack of eye contact as a yes to her question.

Each of her hands was on your knees, and you could feel her tighten her grip on them a bit, but not to the point where it would hurt you. And even though you were looking away from her, you could see her shake her head in disbelief from the corner of your eye.

“I can’t believe him…” she mutters to herself with a sigh. “He really is just like his father.”

The warmth of her hand makes contact with the side of your face, tilting it back forward to face her. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart…please let me make up for my son’s actions…let me give you the pleasure that you deserve. Will you let me do that? Please?”

You hesitate once again. The thought of having Abby give you even the slightest bit of pleasure felt overwhelming to you, but the fact that she was quite literally on her knees begging to do it to you turned you on even more. If anything, Abby was being more desperate than you were right now.

So you give in this time.

“Y-yes…” you whisper out quietly to her. “Go ahead…”

And with that, Abby’s hands meet together at the waistband of your underwear, fully pulling them down and off of your legs before spreading them even farther than before.

Her lips gently brush over your sensitive clit to kiss it, and the sudden contact causes you to involuntarily jerk back. You didn’t mean to do it, but it’s been so long since you’ve been touched before, that even the slightest touch on your pussy already makes you feel overstimulated.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Abby coos, gently squeezing your hips and bringing you closer to her face. “I’ve got you, just lie back and relax for me, sweetheart, okay? Nice and slow…”

You try your best to keep your cool right now, and even Abby tries to as well. It’s clearly taking everything in her to not just quickly dive into your pussy and devour you alive. But she knows how long it’s been for you. She knows that your body hasn’t been worshipped the way that it should be.

“God….you taste so good…sweetest little thing I’ve ever had…” she murmurs into your pussy, slowly increasing the speed of her fingers.

You couldn’t help but watch in awe at the sight of Abby right now. Andrew was never willing to even put his mouth near your pussy, while his mother here was on her knees eating you like a woman starved.

“Mmmh, g-go faster, please…” you quietly whine out to her, grinding your hips against both of her thick fingers that were inside you.

You didn’t need to say anything else for Abby to instantly obey your command. Her fingers began to pump in and out of your pussy even faster than before. They were going in so deep to the point where the tip of her middle finger easily tapped into your g spot, and you absolutely loved it.

Before you knew it, Abby’s fingers and mouth were going at an extremely rapid pace inside you, so fast to the point where you were gripping onto the edge of the bed to hold yourself down.

That feeling was quickly building up inside you now, you were going to cum at any moment. However, something about that feeling felt unusual to you. It was almost as if you needed to stop what she was doing to you.

So you do. You try to warn her, even grab at her wrist to slow down.

“A-Abby, wait—oh God—fuck!”

As much as you tried, you couldn’t warn her in time. Your body had already done its deed, your pussy uncontrollably squirting into her mouth and on her fingers as you reached your peak. The rest of your body felt limp, and your brain was feeling slightly fuzzy from your orgasm.

You felt Abby shift around in between your legs to stand back up, which led you to muster up the energy to sit up on the bed. Your eyes widen at the mess you’ve just created. Everything—Abby’s face, her clothes, her sheets, your legs—was all soaked with your release.

You couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed by it, quickly closing up your legs and bringing your knees to your face. “A-Abby, I’m so sorry I—I didn’t mean to do that…I tried to—“

“Hey hey, it’s okay sweetheart…Don’t feel bad…” she murmurs out to you, gently caressing your face with one hand while bringing both of your knees back down with the other. “Did it feel good?”

You nod slowly as she looks back down at you. “Yes, it did…Better than—”

“Better than him, right?”

“Yeah. Better than him.”

A smile flashes on Abby’s face as she leans in to kiss your lips, letting you taste a bit of yourself in the process. “Then you shouldn’t be sorry, sweetheart,” she tells you as she pulls away. “Lie down on the back of the bed, princess. I'm not done with you just yet.”

You simply oblige, sitting yourself up and scooting to the back of her bed, lying your head down on top of her pillows that were stacked in front of the headboard. You watch as Abby wipes her face and licks her fingers clean before stripping herself out of her clothes. Just like last time, you couldn’t help but admire her broad, muscular figure. And it wasn't just her figure, it was just everything about her. Her bright blue eyes, her freckled skin, her luscious blond hair…You just felt so mesmerized by her. You felt an attraction to her that just couldn’t compete with Andrew at all.

Your eyes follow her movements as she leans down over her bottom bedside drawer and opens it for a moment before shaking her head and closing it. It didn’t take much for you to be able to see the strap she owned, alongside the few other toys she had in there.

The weight of the bed soon shifts down as she hovers herself over you. “Are you…are you not gonna fuck me?” you ask her quietly.

Abby nods her head as she adjusts the pillows on the back of your head to make you feel more comfortable. “I’m gonna fuck you, sweetheart, just not with those,” she says as she shifts back and begins to position herself in between your legs. “I'm gonna fuck you in a way that no man, not even my own son, could ever do with you. Would you like that, sweetheart?”

You nod quickly, eager to find out how she’s going to do this. However, you didn’t know what to do about it either. “Wait, but how do I—”

“You don’t have to do anything, okay princess? All you have to do is just look pretty for me while I do the work. Lie back and relax for me, just like before, yeah?”

You nod again, resting your upper body back on the bed as Abby continues to maneuver herself over you. She lifts up one of your legs and places it over her shoulder, and then brings her free hand down to her pussy and spreads her lips open with two of her fingers. You could easily see that she was just as wet as you were right now.

She then places her wet pussy on top of yours and you easily gasp at the newfound feeling of it. The way her lips molded perfectly against yours, along with how her arousal was practically dripping on top of your tight hole had you reeling.

“Oh fuck,” Abby mutters out, further pressing herself down on top of you. “Your pussy feels even better against me like this.”

Abby begins to grind her pussy against yours, causing you to moan over the friction. You understand that Abby wants to take her time with you right now, but God was she being so painfully slow with this. You were desperately craving for some more friction already, but you felt too shy to tell her. So you end up weakly grinding your hips instead.

“Whoa there,” Abby says, placing a hand on your hip to keep you steady. “Looks like someone’s eager for more…You want me to go faster, princess? Is that what you want?”

“Y-Yes, p-please Abby…g-go faster…” you whine out to her, continuing to grind against her pussy.

“Needy girl…” she mutters as she increases her pace. “Not even a minute with my pussy and she already wants more…I bet it feels better than any cock you’ve ever had, hm?”

All you could do at this point was babble and whine in response. The feeling of Abby’s wet cunt against yours was getting you easily drunk. You look down and watch Abby place a thumb on your hood, lifting it to expose your throbbing clit to her. She then placed her clit right on top of yours before grinding even faster than before.

The sudden overstimulation caused your eyes to flutter themselves shut and your head to tilt back in pleasure against the stack of pillows behind you. Your body soon starts to feel limp again and the familiar fuzziness in your brain soon returns again. At this point, Abby was practically using your pussy to get herself off. But as long as you kept feeling the delicious friction of her clit rubbing against yours, you didn’t mind at all.

Abby suddenly tightens her grip on your leg, leading you to open your eyes and look back at her. Her brows were furrowed in concentration with her gaze fixed on both pussies. You could hear her quietly whimpering to herself while the muscles in her abdomen were contracting and tensing up as she kept quickly grinding herself against your pussy.

At first, you couldn’t tell what she was trying to do with herself. But it didn’t take you too long to realize why her body was doing these things.

Abby was waiting for you to cum first.

You were at a loss for words at the moment. Andrew never cared about that. He would always be done the second he’d finish, meanwhile, Abby was sacrificing her own pleasure just to make you cum a second time.

“A-Are you close, sweetheart?” Abby moans out to you, keeping her hands firm against you as she continues to rub her pussy onto yours.

“Y-Yes, fuck—” you whimper back as you begin to quickly grind your hips against hers. “D-don't stop, Abby…m’so close…”

At this point, the noises that the two of you were making right now were borderline pornographic. Between your moans and whines with Abby’s grunts, along with the wet squelching sound of both of your pussies rubbing against one another, it's honestly surprising how you haven’t woken up the neighbors by now.

“Fuck, Abby—'m gonna cum, fuck!” you tell her as you grip the bedsheets while continuing to rub your clit with hers.

Within seconds, your pussy began to quickly clench around Abby’s while instantly cumming right on top of it. Once Abby felt that you were emptied out, she soon let her body relax before cumming onto your pussy as well with a broken moan.

Once the both of you have recovered from each other's climaxes, Abby presses a soft kiss to your ankle before gently getting your leg off of her shoulder and setting it back down.

Feeling drunk from your orgasm, you let your eyes flutter shut for a moment, hardly feeling the movements of Abby cleaning you up and tucking you into a fresh set of sheets. Your eyes open back up again once Abby has her arm wrapped around you from behind. “Abby, that was…that felt amazing..” you whisper out to her.

Abby lets out a chuckle before gently kissing the back of your shoulder. “I’m glad I could make up for it, sweetheart,” she whispers back to you.

You turn your head around for a moment to face her. “Are you sure I can spend the night here with you?” you ask her shyly.

Abby smiles at you, giving you a quick kiss on your lips before responding. “Of course you can, sweetheart…you know I told him not to come back,” she reassures you, gently caressing the side of your face with her hand. “You’re in good hands with me, I promise.”

You smile at her before turning back around and pressing yourself closer to her as she keeps you tightly wrapped in her embrace. The security that Abby was giving you right now was more than enough to make you instantly drift off to sleep, secretly wishing that the night that you’d spent with your boyfriend’s mother could now last a lifetime.

And little did you know, Abby was also wishing the same thing too.

2023 © atomicami | all rights reserved. do not copy, modify, or translate any of my works.

[lemonlover1110]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 27] Moving Forward

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

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“Shoko, can I help you?” You ask when you see the woman approach your desk. She looks nervous, and you can guess what she’s come to you about. You wait for her to speak though, giving her a moment to gather her thoughts. 

“Can we go out for lunch?” She finally spits out, and you take a long hard minute before answering. You haven’t had a proper conversation with Shoko in what feels like ages, and you haven’t been really willing to talk.

“Sure.” You end up shrugging, acting as if you couldn’t care enough. She’s about to say something else, but her words get caught up in her throat… Talking to you has suddenly become a hard task for her. She ends up deciding to keep quiet, turning on her heel to walk away, and just as she’s about to leave, Satoru calls out her name.

“Shoko! I need something from you, come into my office.” And she rolls her eyes before making her way to Satoru’s office. She goes in first, while he stays behind to have a word with you.

“Do you want to go out for lunch today?” Satoru asks, and while you’d agree, your schedule is filled up.

“I’m a busy woman today. I told Shoko I’d go to lunch with her.” You answer, and he raises one brow. That doesn’t make him change his mind though.

“I’ll join then.” He smiles at you, walking away before you can give him some sort of response. It’s come to the point where you enjoy having Satoru’s presence, especially when you know things are going to be awkward.

“This is a nice place… Is Shoko paying?” Satoru sits beside you, inspecting the restaurant’s menu. It’s pricey, though he shouldn’t worry about that detail since he has more than enough money to pay.

“No, you are.” You answer, and he sticks out his bottom lip. He really hasn’t changed over the past five years.

“Can someone treat me to dinner for once.” He complains, and you can’t help but roll your eyes. You reach over to grab his hand, giving it a light squeeze.

“I’ll treat you to fast food tomorrow, deal?” There’s a mocking tone in your voice, and he picks up on it quickly. He lets out a sigh, putting down the menu on the table and crossing his arms.

“Why did she even invite you out to eat? Is she trying to sleep with you too? Or is that just with Sayo?” Satoru asks which nearly makes your jaw drop. The information isn’t new to you, it’s just weird to hear it from the man himself. You end up chuckling.

“Probably to apologize for the Ren situation.” You tell him, and he raises his brows. He’s confused, until he remembers that you were hiding Ren. It’s not something that Shoko should apologize for, he thinks but then he takes a moment to think about it. He’s glad that Shoko said something, but you obviously feel different.

“Oh right… That was a secret and all.” Satoru mentions and you hum in response. He still can’t help but ask,  “Do we really have to do this?”

“I mean I guess she did do the right thing but she also betrayed my trust. And for what?” You say, and Satoru bites down his lip. You do have a point, Shoko betrayed your trust even if it was the right thing to do.

“I guess yeah…” He can’t really argue any further. He’ll forever be grateful to Shoko for telling him, but he can understand why you’re upset. He can’t control your feelings nor tell you how to feel, so he’ll watch you resolve the issue. Maybe try to help you with your feelings.

You two begin to talk about something unrelated, something lighthearted. Satoru makes a couple of stupid jokes that earn a couple of laughs from you. Laughs that are louder than you’d like to admit. Time gets lost in each other’s presence, though your joyous conversation gets interrupted.

“What are you doing here?” Shoko asks, her eyes lingering on Satoru. The lunch was for the two of you to talk over some issues, and for her to apologize, frankly she doesn’t want Satoru here. 

“I invited myself.” Satoru answers, and Shoko rolls her eyes. She ultimately takes a seat across from you since she can’t do anything else.

“What are you going to order?” Shoko questions, not even bothering looking at the menu. She’s been here many times before, she knows exactly what she wants. You and Satoru look from the same menu even when you have two, and he’s telling you what he thinks sounds good.

Satoru suggests something that he thinks you’d like, and you end up getting it. Once all your food is ordered, Shoko bites down his lip, trying to figure out the right words to speak. But she feels as if she’s forgotten how to speak. 

“So I assume we’re here for a reason.” Satoru makes the first step, and Shoko clicks her tongue. It takes everything in Satoru not to laugh.

“You weren’t invited.” Shoko points out. She’s avoiding eye contact, her nerves getting the best of her. An awkward chuckle leaves her lips, saying, “You’re making this very expensive actually, you should be paying.”

“Invite a guy out for once.” Satoru says, and she rolls her eyes again. “Make it up to me for sleeping with my wife.”

“Weren’t you cheating on her?” Shoko quickly brings up, and you feel your face get warm. You knew that as well, it’s just weird to hear that Satoru was having sex with other women.

“I’ll kill you.” Satoru’s eyes are wide, his cheeks turning pink. She can point that out all she wants, but not when you’re sitting right next to him. He clears his throat and tries to act calm. “I was not cheating on her.”

“Oh right… Because you’re technically separated.” Shoko says, and Satoru takes a deep breath because Shoko is working him up. She’s fighting back a smirk before saying, “We aren’t here for this, anyway.”

“No way your mom didn’t have more kids… You two are like siblings.” You laugh, acting as if you hadn’t heard what just left Shoko’s lips. What Satoru does is none of your business. It has been none of your concern for the past five years. 

“I’m surprised you two don’t act like siblings.” Shoko answers, and you grimace. She chuckles, her sweaty hands going to her pants. She takes a deep breath before focusing on you. Why is apologizing so hard?

“I’m sorry for telling the dumbass about Ren.” Shoko spits out, and it’s not the right way to apologize but it earns a laugh from you. Satoru rolls his eyes, pursing his lips together. Maybe it was best for him to stay. “It wasn’t my place but hearing that he was in the hospital and knowing Satoru was clueless made me feel guilty.”

“Yeah…” You understand her point of view, but you still can’t help but feel frustrated. It wasn’t her secret, but you also get that she was unwillingly dragged into this whole mess. You understand she felt guilty, and it’s selfish of you to expect her silence at the cost of her sanity. You do understand, but you still feel weird about it all. You still feel like you can’t trust her. “I guess I get it.”

“But…?” She asks, feeling that you’re not quite convinced. There’s something more, she knows it. 

“I don’t think I can trust you.” You tell her, and she bites down her lip before nodding in response. She should’ve expected a similar response. 

Food gets to your table, killing any possibility of long awkward silence. You begin to eat, and for the rest of lunch, Satoru makes the conversation.

After lunch, you find yourself spinning around in Satoru’s chair. You wouldn’t have dreamt of this a couple of months back, but once you have a son with your boss you get certain privileges.

“Are you just being lazy?” Satoru asks, sitting across from you in one of the most uncomfortable chairs that his butt has ever touched. You hum in response, and he can’t help but laugh. He proceeds to mutter, “I need to get a new secretary.”

“Watch it.” You warn him, and he sticks his tongue out at you. He wasn’t serious with what he said, but once he takes a moment to think about it, he does consider it. When you stop spinning on his chair and get a good look at him, you notice. “Now what did I do!”

“You’re kind of a bad secretary.” He says, and you furrow your brows. He sticks up his hands defensively before claiming, “I was joking. Best secretary I’ve ever had.”

“Then why are you considering it?” You respond, and Satoru bites his tongue. He instead focuses back on his paperwork, and you sigh. You’re not going to pester him for answers, so instead you inch closer to his computer. “Can I snoop on your computer?”

“Knock yourself out.” He answers, not bothering to look up at you. You unlock the screen in no time, a password so easy to guess that you’re almost disappointed in him. 

Your heart melts at the background photo that he has set. A picture of him and Ren at the beach. You proceed to click on his photos, trying to see if he has anything incriminating in his computer. Perhaps a photo of one of his lady friends since you know that his phone and computer are connected.

You don’t find what you expect, most of his photos are either of your son or of food. He barely has pictures in his camera roll, so it only takes a few scrolls to go back to five years ago. You find photos that you’ve never seen of yourself. Photos that you consider ugly, photos that he’s cherished the past five years.

“Ew, I’m deleting these photos.” You announce, and you begin to handpick the ones that are the ugliest of the bunch. Satoru jumps up from his seat and rushes to your side to take the mouse from your hand. 

“You can snoop around but you can’t alter anything.” Satoru tells you, while he selects a picture of you sleeping. He hovers the cursor on your chin, a smirk on his face, “Aw, look at you drooling.”

“Why do you even have this in here?” You ask him, and he chooses to remain silent. Instead he closes the app and turns off the computer. He rolls your chair away from his computer, and puts you beside his seat for the day.

“Why do you want to even snoop? I promise you won’t find anything fun.” Satoru says, taking a seat right next to you.

“Want to see your lady friends, see if your taste has changed.” You answer, and Satoru shakes his head disappointedly as a chuckle leaves his lips. 

“My taste has not changed, you’re still the only woman that has my heart.” He tells you, and you swear your heart melts but you remain strong. You roll your eyes at him before pointing out,

“Is that why you were sleeping around?”

“Are you jealous?” Satoru asks, and you quickly shake your head. And he says something so insincere because if it were to happen, he’s sure he’d jump off the building, “If it makes you feel better, you can sleep with anyone you’d like.”

“I wasn’t asking for your permission.” You reply. For some reason your words make him feel better, thinking that you’re not going to run off with some idiot in the end.

“On another note.” He clears his throat, and you raise your eyebrows. “What do you think about going back to school?”

“Huh? Where is this coming from?” You’re confused since you haven’t even mentioned going back to study.

“You don’t want to be my secretary forever, do you?” He makes a great point, though you don’t mind either. You get to goof off and Satoru doesn’t dare reprimand you anymore. Plus, pay is great. “You didn’t get to do what you wanted to do because I knocked you up, but now I’m here. I’ll take care of everything.”

“You know that it’s going to take a lot of time, effort and money for it.” You tell him, and he rolls his eyes. Bringing up money as if he didn’t just buy you a house. He has more than enough to support you financially.

“I’m here now, am I not?” He responds, and you have to take a deep breath. The words rest heavy on your chest, and you feel tears well up in your eyes. You wouldn’t have imagined how three words have such an impact on you.

He sees you’re on the verge of crying, and he throws his arms over you, pulling you into a hug. He rubs your back in an attempt to comfort you, “If I had known that the mere suggestion of going back to school would make you cry, I wouldn’t have said a word.”

“No it’s– I’m fine.” You try to play it off. It just makes him hug you tighter. He’s nearly leaving you out of air, on the plus side, Satoru smells really good.

“If you want to be my lazy secretary forever, you’re more than welcome to. I’ll even give you a raise.” He reassures you, and you laugh. He loosens his grip before pressing a kiss on your temple. “I’ll support you no matter the journey you want to take. Even if it includes an ugly husband.”

“What makes you say my husband would be ugly?” You focus on the least important thing.

“Because if you don’t marry me, he’ll be ugly.” He answers, and you click your tongue. You hate that he’s doing things right.

“Then you’ll have to deal with me and my ugly husband.”

[easy-there-leftovers]

Magnum Opus (Ch. 1)

When an MIT prodigy on their gap year is contacted by the FBI regarding her potential involvement in a series of murders in Washington D.C., she must now cooperate to uncover how her paintings are mysteriously appearing at the crime scenes.

(Written with Season 1-4 Spencer in mind, but the timeline could be anywhere pre-season 12. No mentions of past cases)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Artist! reader|cw: Canon-typical violence|word count: 2k words

Also on Ao3!!

Series Masterlist

While Aaron Hotchner remained vigilant as he drove the black SUV, the constant flipping of Spencer’s case files seemed to be louder than the car’s air conditioning. 

He had directed Morgan and JJ to touch base at the MPDC, and had Rossi and Prentiss survey the crime scene of Jonathan Edwards; the identity of the previously unknown man in the vacant apartment.

This left him with Reid in the passenger seat to conduct an investigation on their only lead so far. 

From the update Garicia had given them, Y/n L/n was a prodigy a year younger than their very own. Having graduated from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology a year ago, she moved to Capitol Park Plaza and Twins Apartments in Washington D.C., and is currently unemployed. Occasionally selling her paintings out of her unit under an anagram of her name.

 But something bothered him.

And it seems like Reid has picked up on it too.

“Do you think Dr. L/n is the unsub?” The unit chief asks.

Spencer hums before answering.

“While we can’t rule it out just yet, the possibility of her being the unsub is totally unlikely. The thing that’s throwing me off is that everything is too convenient. I mean, why would the unsub use something so publicly personal to them as part of their signature? It’s as if she’s overtly incriminating herself.”

Spencer checks back onto the pictures of the victims, then lifts his head up to look at Hotch to continue.

“Based on the way the victims are modeled, an immense amount of care was put into them. All for the purpose of making them look like the subjects in their paintings. Actually, the fixation on changing the bodies’ posture and keeping them clean is typically done out of remorse. But the added elements, like the placement of the paintings, creates an image of an unsub more on the narcissistic side. By creating two 'artworks,' they're prompting the viewer to decide which version of it they prefer. Mocking the original artist in the process.”

“So the paintings were done before the murder?”

“I have no reason to believe otherwise.”

His unit chief sighs and pulls over to the curb. “Well, we’re about to test that belief.” Spencer hurries to take off his seatbelt as Hotch closes the car door with a thud. 

—------

Hotchner nods at Reid as they find themselves in front of the written address Garcia gave them. He lifts his hand to knock firmly on your door, and waits for a response.

A thud from the other side causes both of them to assess each other before Hotch tells Spencer to stay behind him. Gun in hand until something, or someone, comes running at them.

But instead a muffled, “sorry” is heard right after, which causes him to lower his gun.

The door finally opens a crack to reveal a very tired twenty-something woman, some dark pigment or makeup smudged on their lower eye lines as they rubbed at it. She immediately fixed her posture however at the sight of the unexpected visitors. Eyes wide with concern.

“Dr. L/n, I’m Aaron Hotchner with Dr. Spencer Reid of the FBI.” He highlights his statement by showing his badge. “We’d like to ask you some questions.” 

“Oh, um,” The woman blinks rapidly and shakes their head before immediately saying, “Of course,” with a nod and opening the door wide to let them in.

A quirk that does not go unnoticed by Spencer, who observes how different she looks to her more formal ID photos.

—-----

You let the FBI agents into your apartment, but are now suddenly aware of the state of disarray you left it in last night. Not to mention the state you were in. 

You had just woken up and your brain wasn’t quite all there yet. If you had known you’d have guests over, you would have at least put some of your books and papers back onto their shelves rather than on your floor.

“My, uh—” You start, “Apologies! For the room and the um,”

You inhale deeply and gesture to yourself as you try to find the words before settling on an exasperated, “me.”

“No worries, miss. We don’t really call in advance.” You nod at the older man’s explanation vacantly before coming up with a response.

“Would you like anything to drink ?” You move to your fridge to get water to wake you up, and decide that it would be rude not to offer. The two decline, with the younger more busy observing your living room bookcase than the older one that sat on your couch. 

You notice that something must have interested him as he lingers on certain shelves. That section in particular had prints of dissertations you had been meaning to read, or have already read, in clear folders.

You wonder if he found his work there or something before returning with water for yourself. 

“So what can I help you with?”

“Dr. L/n, are you aware of the current string of murders that have been happening as of this year?” 

You blink rapidly again. The question catches you off guard, but you shake your head. 

“I know it’s a bad habit, and that I should, but I don’t really listen to the news.” Feeling your eyebrows quirk, you rub your hands together slowly. Making direct eye contact with Hotch, before looking at the younger man as he takes out a few papers from the folder he was holding.

“Are you familiar with these paintings then?”

 Now that piques your interest.

Dr. Spencer Reid, who sees a flicker of recognition in your eyes when it meets his own, presents various pictures of your artworks in what seems to be dimly lit areas. They’re a little dirty, but otherwise you would recognize them as your own.

 The thought instantly made something in your stomach turn.

“I–” You start, but shake your head subtly again. Unsure of what to say and how to say it next as you stare at the images. “am.” You turn your head to look back up at Spencer who nods thoughtfully.

“Recently, your paintings have been showing up at crime scenes in the D.C. area. Specifically, victims of an organized unsub that seems to be targeting people who accurately resemble the subjects in your work.” If your eyes weren’t wide enough, that bit of information had certainly opened them wider than ever before as you stared up at him.

“That, combined with the concentrated traces of 5-durastalene found in the pigments of the paint used, have led us to suspect your involvement in these murders, Dr. L/n.” You heavily feel the blink of your eyelids and rest your fingers on them to keep them closed before looking back at the two of them.

“I’m sorry,” you smile incredulously. “So you’re telling me that not only has Lunacite been identified on the paintings you’ve found, but that people who look like the personas in my private works actually exist and have since been–” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Murdered?”

“Well that shouldn’t come as a surprise, they were your muses, weren’t they? You were commissioned?” Hotch is the one who asks and you shake your head with wide eyes.

“I didn’t even know these people existed. They were just– faces I came up with mentally with the visual library I’ve amassed over the years. I don’t really make it a habit to paint from reference. Like I said, they were private.”

“And the chemical?” You thought for a moment before your lips thinned into a line.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Agent Hotchner, but I haven’t touched anything regarding that compound in over a year. I’ve only ever worked on it in my lab on university grounds, and I don’t make a habit of bringing work home.” You scratch the hairs near the base of your hairline.

“More importantly, hundreds of students and lecturers have access to my work, my research, and my lab space. Not to mention the people who might have heard my work through academic conferences.”

You move away from your position near the living room coffee table Spencer placed the pictures on, but picked up one before you did and shook your head.

“Besides, these paintings? No one should know about them, let alone have them. I didn't sell these.” That made Spencer’s brows furrow as he looked at the other photos still on the table.

“Do you have proof?” You stay silent, but then motion for them to follow you to the door of your room.

“Well, for one, I’m sure you’d understand that most people don’t make copies of their artwork traditionally, right? Expenditure of time, work materials, effort, human error, and many other variables. It just isn’t practical nor convenient.” You ramble and look back at them to continue.

“I also don’t make the majority of my art known online. Only a good 30% makes its way to my portfolio, and the others are never to be seen by anyone else.”

“They're studies. They’re made with cheap paints, they’re subjectively not appropriate for commercial use and-–I just wouldn’t be comfortable charging anyone for them.” 

They follow you across the room, and make themselves apparent behind you.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“So if my ‘commissioned paintings’ are currently on D.C. crime scenes, and possibly in MPDC evidence,” You open the door to reveal your studio to the two agents. 

Various paint tubes, books, and brushes littered the floor, table, and boxes. A lone easel was situated near your apartment window, with an unfinished painting on it. And various canvasses, not displayed, but instead kept on tall shelves. Only the differently colored edges indicated that they were ever used.

What surprised them both however, were the same paintings in the pictures staring back at them.

 Some on the walls, some on the floor, but what was most important was that they were in this room, they were clean, and there were more of them.

You turn to look back at them with shaky eyes. “So why are they still here?”

—----

Hotch and Reid stood outside of your apartment door as you cleaned yourself up. Hotch made the call to bring you to the precinct for further investigation and for your own safety, but allowed you to freshen up before leaving with them. Not that he told you about the safety part.

You were hard to read, given your erratic reactions. It unnerved him, but he supposes it comes with the territory of being gifted. You also offered to bring in your paintings and a few other materials for forensics to test, to which while he was suspicious of, was not ungrateful for.

He made a quick call to Garcia to check attendants of any academic conferences you’ve spoken at and if anyone had been more interested than the others. When he was finished, he looked to Reid who was crossing his arms and staring at the carpeted hallway before looking back at him.

“She’s uncomfortable.” He stated plainly.

“Reid, most people would be if they just found out their hobby had been getting people killed.” Hotch said as he kept looking at his phone for anything new from the others.

“There’s certainly that, but I meant her title. ‘Doctor.’” He said in quotes, and Hotch raises his eyebrow at that but allows him to continue anyway with a curt nod.

“I mean, every time we’ve addressed her with her title, she blinks faster. Did you know it’s a common attribute that’s directly related to an increase in heart rate, which is why they’re usually correlated with lying? Initially, you would think that she faked her experience to get those credentials, but given her educational background, she must have not been given an opportunity to be referred to as such for a long time. Also, the gap year she took could’ve only exacerbated any insecurities she might have about her intellectual achievements. Plus, the lack of organization in her own home, while not wildly uncommon amongst people her age, could suggest the sincerity of her belief about compartmentalizing her work and her private life.”

“And what does that tell you?”

As Spencer was supposed to answer, a thud much like the one they heard before they entered earlier was heard again, followed by a similarly muffled, ‘sorry.’

He turns to look back at Hotch again with a small, victorious smile.

“That she doesn’t fit the profile.”

——-

taglist: @littlewolfieposts

[winwintea]

how dreamies would react to your first kiss

PAIRING ▸ bestfriend/friend!dreamies x reader 

TAGS ▸ none, enjoy the fluff <3

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ requested by anon! reader + dreamies aren't in established relationship yet.

Mark Lee

Mark’s first kiss with you happens by accident. You were both hanging out in his place together, playing video games. Exhausted, you decided to rest your head on his shoulder, creating very little distance between your faces. So Mark gave into his internal instincts, placing his lips directly on yours, startling both you and himself, “Oh, I’m so sorry that is totally my fault… umm…” He quickly pulls away, embarrassed, but instead of being mad, you stare at him dead serious, “Mark Lee. Shut up and do that again.” His eyes widen at your words, but his face slowly relaxes into a bright smile. He gladly complies with your request, more than once.

Huang Renjun

Renjun had invited you out to his favorite cafe. You two were having such a fun time, before Renjun noticed a couple of crumbs near your lips. He inched a bit closer, squinted, and used his fingers to swipe them off. It was now or never. With your faces so close together, you had to take this chance. Taking a deep breath, you grab his face and lean in for the kiss. Renjun was expecting this however, and he reacted to the kiss immediately closing his eyes. When you finally pulled apart he stared at you breathlessly, “Did I tell you, that you’re beautiful?” His soft hands reach up to gently cup your cheek with the sweetest smile you had ever seen. God how you loved his smiles.

Lee Jeno

Jeno found himself in a quite embarrassing and stressful situation. He had taken you to the carnival, since none of your other friends wanted to go. In the blink of an eye you found yourselves on the ferris wheel. You sat together, no words being said, but the discomfort on his face was obvious. You grabbed his hand and gently squeezed it. Jeno looked down at you from the corners of his eyes, he smiled. "Are you nervous?" You asked him. Jeno nodded, feeling the embarrassment rushing to his cheeks. You pulled him in close, “Just focus on me, instead.” You both leaned in for the kiss, drunk on the smell of one another. When you two finally pulled apart, Jeno looked into your eyes sparkling. If this was what heaven felt like, he would be perfectly content to remain here forever.

Lee Donghyuck

Haechan was shocked. Not only had you repeatedly denied his affections for the past year, but you had also managed to evade his playful kisses as well. Then you did it yourself. It came at him out of nowhere, and he had little time to react. “You kissed me.” He paused, then repeated again, “You kissed me?” He stared at you in disbelief. You only grinned in response, giggling at his confusion. “Does this mean…?” Haechan looked at you nervously, but then his face eased after he saw your smile. He pointed to his lips, puckering them up, and leaning in once more, eyeing you with puppy dog eyes, “Again?” (his kiss was once again rejected.)

Na Jaemin

Jaemin had been waiting patiently for you to make a move on him. You two had been spending more time together than usual, and he hoped that the feeling was mutual, but didn’t want to make any assumptions. Then one day, Jaemin watched as you plopped yourself in front of him, stood up on your tippy-toes, and placed a quick and soft cheek on his lips. He returned the kiss, but not before wrapping his hands around your waist, and picking you up in a swift motion. You found yourself making a fuss and squirming around in his arms, but Jaemin ignored all your protests, placing butterfly kisses on your face, until his lips met yours in another, this time, soft and meaningful kiss.  

Zhong Chenle

Chenle and you always bickered. You hated how arrogant he was at times. As much as you sometimes hated his guts, you couldn’t help but begin to start seeing the crazy tension you two had when arguing. Sometimes you just wanted to silence that loud mouth of his. That handsome, sometimes endearing, sometimes cocky grin. Until you couldn’t take it anymore. “If you hadn’t- mmh…?” You grabbed Chenle’s collar pulling him in quickly, and pressed your lips over his, silencing his protests. His eyes lit up in surprise, but you could feel his lips slowly turn into a smirk, as he kissed you back. “Took you long enough.” 

Park Jisung

Jisung was comforting you, as you vented out all your frustrations to him, right in the middle of his living room floor. Jisung wasn’t sure why, but for some reason you always came to him when you wanted to vent. He was always bad with expressing things with his words, so you often found yourself buried into his arms, embraced in warm tight hugs. Today, Jisung was feeling a bit more bold. Bolder than usual. He placed his hand on your cheek and suddenly leaned in for a kiss. You felt your shoulders relax, and the tension you had from earlier started to release. He leaned in, pressing your head against his shoulders whispering in your ears, “I will always remain by your side. I will be here for eternity, just for you.” And somehow, through his love for you, he found the right words to say.

[lazycats-stuff]

Please a Clark fic, where reader is a new intern adn Clark is just love struck. And he slowly starts to court (?) the reader, and at some point take him home for a home-cooked meal, where the reader meets Conner and Jon. I think Conner at first doesn't really like reader, but Jon immediately clings to reader. After some time Conner warms up to reader and they all become a happy family

Of course my dear anon. Some superfam sounds good right now. Also, I have decided to make (Y/N) from Gotham... It sounds good, trust me.

Summary: Clark likes (Y/N). Conner is suspicious.

Warnings: I don't think there's any... Fluff mostly.

" Morning Clark. " Lois said to him as she passed him to get some coffee. Clark simply nodded as he booted his computer to start up. He had a piece to write about Lex Luthor scandal which for once wasn't brought to light by the Justice League.

An anonymous whistleblower who contacted Daily Planet with a shit ton of damning evidence. Clark jumped on the said opportunity to expose Lex, both as Superman and Clark Kent.

" Working on the Lex thing? " She asked as she came back, leaning on the edge of his desk, glancing at the computer screen to check the progress. " Yes, it's great to see how he's slowly crumbling. The stock share prices are going down faster than our faith in humanity. " Clark said with a smile, making Lois chuckle.

" Yeah, it's truly satisfying. Also, I have some news for you Smallville. " She said, stopping to sip her warm coffee. Clark raised his brow, fixing his glasses as he leaned back in his chair, smoothing his pants out.

" What those might be Lois? " Clark asked, turning his chair to face her fully.

" We got an intern. Someone from Gotham it seems. His name is (Y/N) and he will work in this department. " Lois stated, lifting her cup of coffee as if she was silently saying finally.

" Oh really? " Clark asked, tilting his head in curiosity. " It seems that Perry has decided to throw us a bone. We could use a courier. " Clark joked and Lois chuckled.

It's nice to have an extra set of hands. " Also, did you say he was from Gotham? " Clark inquired and Lois nodded. Clark whistled quietly. Gotham people are often tougher and more direct and even more blunt.

Clark knew that very well, ahem, read Bruce.

" That will be a nice change of pace. Someone with tough skin. " Clark noted and Lois nodded.

" Now we have someone to take as a bodyguard when we go out. Everyone is afraid of Gotham people. " She joked, sipping more of her coffee before her eyes moved forward, right behind Clark. He turned his chair around to check what she was looking at.

She was looking at the new intern who entered with their boss, Perry White. The room fell silent as Perry stood with a tall guy, (H/C) hair and (E/C) eyes in a suit, standing with a stoic look on his face. And there was a Gotham aura and vibe radiating from (Y/N).

Clark had to stifle a chuckle.

" Everyone, this is our new intern, his name is (Y/N). He transferred from Gotham. Be nice to him. I don't want chaos around here. As for you (Y/N), you'll be working with Kent. He is more than capable to show you the ropes. " Perry said and Clark raised his brow from his seat.

Being a mentor isn't new to him anymore, ever since Conner came as a clone and stepping up ever since then. And since Jon came into the picture, he had no choice but to really step it up as a father. Since the mom left...

Clark rubbed his forehead for a moment, then set his sight back on (Y/N). Clark looked him up and down subtly. He... He is drop dead gorgeous in Clark's eyes. Clark did have a few relationships with men in the past, but he was always more attracted to women.

But the tides have changed.

Clark has been struck with probably love at first sight. He never really felt like this before... So lovestruck. Oh Bruce would have laughed so hard at him in this situation...

Oh God and he is responsible for (Y/N) too? This won't be good in the slightest. He gulped quietly as Perry led (Y/N) to him and the office started bustling with activity again.

" This is Clark Kent (Y/N). Kent, you'll be making sure he gets the basics down since I'm sure Gotham Daily Planet is not up to standard with us. " Perry joked, making (Y/N) laugh.

Clark's heart did a few flips at the laughter. Oh dear God, (Y/N) is so damn adorable when he laughs. But he looks so damn tough too and it makes it a bit more difficult to read.

Gotham does make you more tough.

" Also, this is Lois. " Perry introduced and (Y/N) shook hands with her. Clark stood up and shook hands with (Y/N), whose hands were so soft. Oddly enough. For a Gothamite especially.

" Clark, nice to meet you. " Clark said with a firm handshake. (Y/N) nodded. " (Y/N), nice to meet you. " He said politely.

" Well, I'll take you around the office to show you around and then you can help Kent or whatever else he needs. " Perry said before he led (Y/N) away, telling him about the Daily Planet and how good the place is.

" You are in love Smallville. " Lois said behind her coffee mug making Clark sigh quietly.

She won't let this go.

" Don't you have some work Lois? " Clark asked her, clearly not in the mood to deal with her teasing. Lois simply snickered and raised her hand and mug in a way to show she surrenders and left to go to her desk, that was, coincidentally, right next to Clark's.

" This is will be fun. " Lois muttered under her breath, knowing fully well that Clark could hear her. Clark simply rolled his eyes. She was right, though, this was going to be fun. Clark listened intently to Perry and (Y/N)'s conversation. His super hearing is something that he can't just turn off anyway.

Might as well use it.

After a few months, Clark decided to start making his moves. He decided to start with bringing some coffee every morning to them both. (Y/N) was suspicious at first, the Gotham nature in him telling him to not trust because, again, Gotham makes you on guard all the time.

Especially when someone is nice to you. Maybe (Y/N) is a bit more cold, but every Gotham native is like that. If you try to be nice to them, they are a bit suspicious. Can you blame (Y/N)? But, Clark's ambition and patience had slowly been paying it off.

It started with small cups of coffee every morning to get the energy going for writing and editing articles. (Y/N)'s editing skills were insanely good and Clark was more than impressed the first time (Y/N) showed him the finished version.

Then, (Y/N) was being sent out on the field with a camera to capture events and what not. Perry justified with the saying, you are from Gotham, you'll be fine.

And that turned out to be true actually.

One day, while dropping off some photos at Perry's office, his face was bloody and it was clear that there was some sort of brawl or a fight. Clark and the rest of the office was concerned, but (Y/N) simply acted casually, as if nothing had happened to him.

The only thing he is said is, 'You should see the other guy.'

It made Clark think of Bruce and his nature. Tough Gotham nature.

But Clark had a lot of experience with that nature. Again, dealing with Bruce's nature made it easier to navigate (Y/N). And although (Y/N) and Bruce are two completely opposite people in every shape and form, it still gave Clark good points what not to do and what to do.

And slowly but surely, he did it.

He asked (Y/N) to come with him to his house, for some dinner. A nice good, old, home cooked meal. A recipe his mom sent him so he could impress (Y/N).

(Y/N) was pleasantly surprised and decided to say yes. As well, (Y/N) knew that Clark is a father. 2 boys, if he could judge from his framed photos on his desk. One younger and one older.

Conner and Jon if (Y/N) remembers correctly. Jon is younger and Conner is the older one. And (Y/N) remembered that Clark was a single parent.

So, (Y/N) decided to accept and say yes to the call, never saying no to a good, nice, homecooked meal. And Clark was a nice guy too so it wasn't a bad thing. He was cute too and (Y/N) slowly started to like him.

So, entering his place, he was greeted by Clark's sons, Jon and Conner. Jon is a bubbly personality, immediately clinging onto him. (Y/N) thought that he was adorable.

But Conner was a whole another story. He was more cold and calculating and clearly suspicious of (Y/N). (Y/N) respected it. Don't trust people that have just entered your life.

All in all, the dinner went well and Clark and (Y/N) went on a few dates and soon enough started dating seriously. Soon enough, after a few years, the two got married.

However, during that time, Conner and (Y/N) got more and more closer. It was a nice feeling and was rather emotional for them both. Clark was happy and soon enough, (Y/N) had two boys to call his sons, despite not being biologically related to them.

[thef1diary]

Hey Di! I can’t help but feel like Daniel would LOVE watching his gal get ready 👀😍

Watching Me | D. Ricciardo

Summary: Daniel can't keep his eyes off you while you're getting ready to go out.

Warnings: none really, just a lotta fluff

Pairing: daniel x fem!reader (established relationship)

word count: 988

It's just something all men absolutely hate. You told yourself when you've been told multiple times in the past that it takes you too long to get dressed.

However the man that was currently watching you didn't have any sort of expression on his face that told you he didn't like this. He had a slight smirk on his face, so it was actually quite the contrary.

During the three years of your relationship, Daniel has never once voiced irritation over it. He actually enjoys watching you go through your routine step by step rather than leaving you to get dressed alone. And that is exactly what he is doing now.

Leaning against the doorframe, he is watching you stood with a towel wrapped around your body and another around your hair. You were applying your skincare products when you noticed him through the mirror. "What are you doing?"

He took that as a sign to walk further into the room, standing behind you but not touching you just yet. "Admiring the most beautiful person I've ever laid my eyes on."

His simple statement made you blush profusely and you shook your head with a smile on your face but didn't respond. Even after three years, he was still capable of making you speechless.

A few moments of silence later, while you continued your routine—now doing your hair—Daniel decided to wrap his arms around your body, resting his chin on your shoulder. Usually you wouldn't mind his embrace, in fact you actually liked it a lot but at the moment it restricted you from properly drying your hair. "Daniel?"

He hummed in response, "go change" you simply stated which made him chuckle. "Why, don't I look good like this?" He asked, gesturing to his current outfit he wore after taking a shower earlier in the day—shorts from his latest enchanté collection and a plain white t shirt.

You turned around, finally facing him. Placing a hand on his cheek, you spoke "as much as I love seeing those, it's our anniversary, baby." You pointed to his thigh tattoos that Daniel knew how much you adored.

He placed a kiss on your lips before walking towards the closet and picking out a suit. Actually, after going through all the suit options, he chose two then came to you to chose the final one.

Meanwhile, you decided to remove your towel and moisturize your body. Unfortunately for Daniel, he missed that part while he was getting dressed.

However, he returned to the room while you were putting your dress on. He had a white dress shirt on but didn't button it up. On the other hand, you were struggling to zip up your dress, you saw him through the mirror again, smiling at your struggles. "A little help please?"

He came up right behind you, moving your hair out of the way before tugging the zipper up. He turned you around and placed a kiss on your bare shoulder which was decorated by a small design in ink.

That's when you noticed his unbuttoned shirt. "What's this?" You asked with a smile on your face, knowing Daniel's antics very well. In fact he's been in a mischievous mood all day today. You didn't blame him, mainly because you were also in a celebratory mood, as you two were celebrating three years of being in a relationship.

"A little help please?" He shrugged, standing with an innocent look on his face. His bare torso also revealed the tattoo he had near his shoulder, of love and life, and you grazed your thumb over it before moving down his chest.

You returned the favour by buttoning his shirt up but also had a teasing smirk on your face, "am I supposed to get dressed or help you get dressed?"

"What can I say, I like taking up all your attention." He responded instantly. Truth is, with Daniel, your smile never fades away so it wasn't a surprise that you had a smile on your face.

"Is there a problem with that?" He added, but you shook your head. "No, what can I say, you already have all of my attention."

"Good, because you have all of my attention too, every second of every day." He pulled you closer by his grasp on your waist, touching your nose with his before rubbing them together. This little gesture has become a habit over the years.

"Even while you're racing?" You asked when he pulled back. Your question made him laugh, showing off his pearly whites, "yes even when I'm racing."

"Look at you, openly admitting this bad habit of yours." You clicked your tongue and shook your head, turning around to start your makeup.

"You're not my bad habit, but if you were, I'd be a goner." He stated, which made you pause. "Daniel, you can't say things like that."

He shrugged and moved next to you, picking out the products he uses to style his hair. Truth is, once you started dating him, you also convinced him to buy styling products for his hair. After all, he had amazing curls but would barely take care of them. So whenever you saw him using the products you recommended, you smiled.

Instead of looking at himself in the mirror, he was looking at you, captivated by your beauty. What can he say, he fell in love with you more and more every day.

You two were silently enjoying each other’s presence while trying to quickly get dressed as Daniel made reservations at your favourite restaurant. He finished before you, using the extra time to sit on the bed, just watching you with a smile on his face.

This is something that will never get old, him watching you with love and admiration present in his eyes.

[linopls]

kinktober day nine

oral chan x fem!reader summary: you're chan's favorite inspiration warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, oral (fem receiving), blond chan (it needs a warning) 0.8k words

“hey, can i eat you out?”

“what?” 

you and chan had been sitting silently in his studio. he had his headphones on and was working on a song for their next comeback and you were sat on the couch behind him, working on a project for one of your classes. you’d both been sat in complete silence for the past three hours, both working in a stress-free environment, which was rare.

“what did you say?” you ask again.

“you heard me.” chan takes off his headphones and swivels around in his chair to face you. “i have been stuck for the past fifteen minutes and i need some inspiration.”

you laugh, “does eating me out give you inspiration?”

“maybe,” chan shrugs as he stands up from his chair and picks your laptop up off your lap and places it gently on his desk. “your moans are like music to my ears, and i need to listen to something else than what have been.”

“are you writing another ‘drive’?” you joke and chan laughs. you sit up and move to the edge of the couch where chan meets. he stands between your legs and lifts your chin to look him in the face.

“i might after this,” chan says before pushing his lips against yours. his lips are soft and taste sweet. he quickly starts to kiss down your jawline and to your exposed collarbone.

“i love when you wear my clothes,” he mumbles between kisses. it was raining when you arrived to the studio, which left you freezing and wet. chan, being the kind boyfriend he was, gave you the sweatshirt he was wearing.

 he kneels in front of your and puts his hands on your thighs, softly squeezing them. he softly bites down on your collarbone until he leaves a small bruise on the spot, he pulls away and admires the mark.

“so pretty.” he then looks you in the eyes, his soft brown eyes full of lust. “god, you’re so pretty, can i please eat you out now?” he begs.

the way he begs to pleasure you sends a warm feeling to your core. one of your favorite things about chan was that his love language was acts of service. while normally this meant he would do chores for you, hold doors for you, and make appointments for you. it also meant that he would always pleasure you first, usually several times, before himself. many days he would beg to eat you out, today, when you should be working, was no different.

you giggle. “of course.”

“thank you,” he sighs, quickly hooking his fingers under your waist band. you lift your hips off the couch to assist him and he pulls off your sweatpants in one swift motion.

like a starved animal, he quickly pulls your legs apart and licks one long stripe up your core. “god, you taste so fucking good,” he moans to himself. 

chan starts lapping at your core. he rotates between tracing circles and sucking on your clit and sliding his tongue as deep in your hole as he can. he then decides he needs to be even closer and wraps his muscled arms around your thighs and pulls your body to his face. this knocks you flat on the couch and you moan in response. he continues to work on your clit, flicking his tongue against the sensitive bud.

“chan, fuck, please don’t stop,” you moan, tangling your hands into his blond hair. 

your words of encouragement have him sticking to the pattern of flicking his tongue at your clit and swirling small circles over it. he moans and hums as he sloppily makes out with your cunt.

“chan, please, please, please keep going. i’m gonna cum,” you whine, hips squirming in his strong grip.

without breaking contact with your cunt, chan looks up at you. the look in his innocent eyes sends you over the edge. 

“fuck i’m cumming,” you yell. you tighten your grip in his hair and press your leaking cunt against his face, moaning his name loudly as you finish. chan slows his pace, helping work you through your orgasm.

as you release the grip on his hair, chan sits up fully. you notice how blown out his eyes look, his blond, curly hair a mess atop his head, and your glistening slick coating his face. he makes direct eye contact with you as he licks his lips clean and wipes his mouth with his arm. your eyes roll back and your head falls back onto the couch. 

chan stands up with your pants in his hands, he folds them nicely before putting them on one of the side tables. he places a kiss to your forehead and picks up your body to lay you the proper way on the couch. he then grabs the blanket from the back of the couch and lays it over your body.

“but babe, what about you-?” you start, propping yourself on your elbows.

“let me finish this song,” he says, sitting back down in his chair and putting his headphones on. “i got my inspiration.”

i need chan to be blond again for my own mental health

@rockstrhanji @hyunjinhoexxx @mixtape-racha @euphoric-univers @haruharu-egypt @shit-why-what @twiggoblin @kookiesbunny @virgohannie @nataliee10 @ihrtlix @aaasia111 @lolli4me @lilcutieana @changbinsrightboob @hanjisunglover @chansducky10 @elissasimp @boi-bi-ahaha @lilquokka04 @anglerfishiey @sirenscall1031 @might-be-a-rat @jihyun2monster @kpflyn @samsmitty @imwithurmother @meilix @summer3sworld @mysweethannie @kittykattime @linoots @yaorzu-blog @sofiaeli 

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@dvbkie099 @il0v3skz @chrishak@quokkaaah @bex90997 @sheeshhhhfelixsworld @leeknowyah @tumadreposts @hyunniebunni @cipher-ipher @alice630 @jinnies-princess @bangtancultsposts @evrythinghqppened @rebellescauses-blog @juicypebbless @fawnpeaks @the-life-of-stella@lakoya @compersian @seung-mine @mal-lunar-28

[lovelybucky1]

Nectar- Tommy Shelby x Reader

warnings: AFAB!reader, f receiving oral sex, fingering, mentions of masturbation, blasphemy kink, church sex, heavy religious themes, corruption kink, dirty talk, canon typical violence

masterlist

The church is quiet like it always is at this hour. The pews empty of parishioners, the confessionals vacant, and the lights dim. The priest and almost everyone in the neighborhood have long been in bed. You, however, were wide awake.

You’ve been working in the church since you were a girl, per your family’s wishes. It’s mostly charity work: caring for the sick, poor, orphans, and others in need. You also spend a fair amount of time working inside the church, cleaning and whatnot. It is fulfilling work, but it doesn’t offer much in terms of pay, so you don’t have much of a space to call your own. That is why you spend your nights in the empty church, alone save for the conversations you have with God.

Since you spend so much time in the church, you’re pretty familiar with the congregation. It’s not often you see a new face unless a new family moves to the city. When you heard the heavy oak doors open, you were expecting a devout Catholic in crisis, not the notorious crime boss, Tommy Shelby.

You watch from the first pew near the altar as he walks down the aisle toward you. His hat and coat are wet from the rain, and once he takes a seat a few rows behind you, he takes them off. You’re confused, wondering what he could be doing in your church in the middle of the night. Part of you feels nervous, knowing that danger never follows far behind a Peaky Blinder.

“Good evening, Mr. Shelby,” you decide to speak up, voice kind and sweet as always.

Tommy’s eyes flick to you, but his expression is unreadable. “I’m not dead yet, eh?” he says. You look closer at him and in the dim light, you can just make out the dried blood splattered on his face.

So maybe it isn’t a good evening. Nevertheless, he has come to a church and he is allowed sanctuary here. You make your way over to where he sits and you stand at the end of the row, obviously looking hesitant if his glance is anything to go by.

“Do you mind if I sit?” you ask. Instead of a response, he cocks his head to the side in a way that you’re interpreting as go ahead. You sit down, pressing your knees together to make yourself as small as possible. There is about a foot of space between the two of you, but even still, the proximity to him is overwhelming.

As the two of you sit in silence, your mind starts to wander. You know his Aunt Polly is Catholic; she frequents the church, though she never attends the services. You’ve overheard her prayers before, and you understand why she prefers to pray in private.

“Are you Catholic, Mr. Shelby?”

Your desire for conversation seems to surprise him. He glances at you out of the corner of his eye before he goes back to looking straight ahead at the altar. It takes him a few moments to respond, and you can see the inner battle on his face as he decides how to answer.

“No,” he says.

“I see. Your Aunt is, though. I see her nearly every day.”

“And she’s a fool for it.” The bitter tone he takes only gives you more questions.

“I take it you don’t believe in God?”

“You’re quite inquisitive,” he says, shooting you a look. “God abandoned me long ago.”

You sigh. Many of the men held the same sentiment after they came back from the war. The horrors they experienced in France, the death and destruction took the fear of God away from these men. Now, all they fear is each other.

“It’s never too late to find him again,” you offer. Tommy lets out a dry, humorless chuckle in response. “You can still be saved.”

“I’m past the point of saving. I’ve got a spot in hell waiting for me.”

You frown at that. “God is all about forgiveness. God will even forgive men like you as long as you accept him.”

“What’s the point in asking forgiveness if I don’t indent on stopping?” he asks, leaning back in his seat, making himself look more intimidating. “And what do you mean, men like me?”

As if someone dumped a bucket of ice water on you, you immediately realize your mistake.

“I didn’t mean to offend you, sir. I just meant men in your… line of work,” you say, trying to backtrack.

“And what line of work is that?”

Tommy is sitting up now, leaning just slightly closer to you. Now that he is fully facing you, you can see the blood on his face, but by the lack of injuries he has, you’re suspecting it’s not his. His gaze is piercing as he stares into your eyes, smirking as he waits for you to respond.

“I-I don’t know.” With a small, satisfied smirk, Tommy leans back again. “I’m just saying, sir, you haven’t strayed too far from God’s light.”

That makes him chuckle again. “I see. So all I have to do is absolve myself, right? Confess my sins and I’ll be God’s child once again?”

He’s toying with you now. He wants to see if you are devoted enough to your God that you’d try to convince the biggest sinner in the city to become a religious man.

“That’s right,” you smile softly, still hesitant from your previous slip-up.

“Can I confess to you?” he asks.

“I’m not the priest-”

“I want to do this now. I want to find God.” His voice is so earnest that you believe him.

“Okay,” you agree. It’s about confessing to God, the person doesn’t matter. “We can go to the confessionals.” You begin to stand, but he stops you by grabbing your wrist.

“That’s far too formal, don’t you think? We can do it right here,” he says, the faintest look of mischief in his eyes.

You nod and sit back down, folding your hands onto your lap. Tommy slides off the bench and sinks to his knees on the floor, hands clasped in front of him.

“Bless me, for I have sinned,” he begins, looking into your eyes. “It’s been many years since my last confession. In my time away I’ve done many bad things, terrible things, that make me ashamed to look in the mirror. I’ve lied, stolen, scammed, and gambled. I live a life of deceit and greed, and I’ve found great success in doing so, but those are not the sins that weigh heaviest on me.”

You watch him intently as he speaks, your eyes tracing every word his mouth forms. Your heart begins to beat quicker in your chest; the idea that you’re getting access to information only meant for God makes you feel guilty, but it’s also exciting in a strange way.

“I’ve taken many lives. During the war, I was ordered to, but I continued once I came home. I’ve killed in every way imaginable. Shot in the head, slitting their throat, hanging, drowning, burning, suffocating. I’ve had men ripped apart for betraying me, and I did not feel remorse. I watched these men suffer as my men tortured them. I laughed as they pleaded for God to save them.”

Tommy doesn’t look as remorseful as most do when they’re confessing their terrible sins. He almost looks proud, like he’s bragging about them to you as you squirm under his gaze. The graphic descriptions he’s offering make you uncomfortable like your skin is too tight on your bones. Like he’s corrupting you just by having you listen to his tales.

There is a blaze behind his light blue eyes that captivate as much as they scare you. They bore into your soul and peel back the layers, revealing all of your inner thoughts. It makes you want to run away screaming, to pray for God to rid this world of the devil in front of you but you’re stuck, frozen in front of him as he confesses.

Tommy takes a breath as if what he is going to say next brings him great shame. As if he hasn’t already confessed the worst sins man could commit.

“Perhaps worst of all, I lust. I lust after women and I envy men with beautiful wives to the point I take them for myself. I’ve had many married women in my bed, as well as hers. I fuck whores too, but only the pretty ones. And they can’t be cheap, because those women can’t keep a secret. I don’t only fuck them in the bed. I’ve fucked in my office, my car, and my pub. It doesn’t matter who these women are, but once I have my sights set on them, I am determined to get what I want.”

The confessions about his sex life shock you. Of course, you know people have pre-marital sex and affairs are common, but you’ve spent your life in the church. You don’t hear of these things frequently, and you feel bashful because of his vulgar words. Tommy holds eye contact with you as he speaks, though you find it difficult to meet his eyes.

Your body betrays you now; you’re unsure how to react. You should be scared, you are scared. There is a murderer less than two feet from you, splattered with someone else’s blood. However, he has a soothing, gentle voice, kind eyes, and a soft smile. It’s hard to believe that the man on his knees praying to God is a monster, but you find it harder to believe that there is a heat growing between your thighs from his confessions.

The vivid images of Tommy with some faceless woman play in your mind. You imagine the way he’d look lost in pleasure, carefree and blissful. You imagine how his rough hands, which are currently clasped together, would feel on your skin. You imagine how his voice would sound in your ear, how his lips would feel as he whispers.

Your heartbeat picks up in your chest, a physical reaction from the fantasies. Your skin feels hot, burning with shame as you pray that Tommy doesn’t notice your current state.

“And finally, I’d like forgiveness for lusting after the church girl who was stupid enough to think she could show me the light,” he says, hands now dropped at his side and gaze predatory.

Entranced by his words, you didn’t notice how close he had leaned in, now only inches from your face. Your breath hitches in your throat and for a split-second, you think you see Tommy’s eyes on your lips.

“Sir?” you ask, voice no more than a squeak.

“I appreciate your efforts, dear, but I sold my soul many years ago.”

Tommy’s eyes are sharp and his grin is wide as he leans closer to you. He has lured you into his trap and you fell for it like a fool. Now, helpless and trapped, he is going to swallow you whole. Your heartbeat throbs in your ears, almost downing out his sweet, deep voice.

Tommy places his hands on your knees, and even through the fabric of your skirt, you can feel the coolness of his skin. The touch, although not sexual in nature, electrifies you. A shiver runs down your spine and Tommy must notice if the slight smirk is anything to go by.

“Are you alright?” he asks, a teasing lilt to his voice.

“Yes,” you choke out.

“Would you mind helping me?”

You furrow your brow, now much more hesitant to do anything for him. Your heart is still hammering in your chest and you’re certain you are trembling slightly.

“With what?” you manage to ask. Somehow, even on his knees below you, Tommy makes you feel small.

“I need something new to worship,” he says.

Tommy slides his hands down your claves until he reaches the hem of your dress, which he then pushes up to reveal your stockinged legs. He gently guides your knees apart and you allow him until you feel too exposed. You resist against him and he looks up at you with a questioning look.

“I-I can’t,” you say.

“You can lie to yourself, you can lie to God, but you can’t lie to me,” Tommy says, grasp still from on your knees but no longer pushing. “You want this.”

You look away, over your left shoulder as you try to hold onto any of the values you held before Tommy entered the church. You’re saving yourself for marriage, and even worse, you hadn’t formally met Tommy before tonight. There’s no love, no future, between the two of you. It goes against everything you have been taught since you were a girl, but he is appealing to the primal side of you. The side of you that slips your fingers underneath your nightgown after you say your nightly prayers. The side of you that allows your eyes to linger on the men in the chuch during service, even as their wives and children sit beside them.

Tommy is not putting the thoughts of sin in your head, he is simply tempting you to act upon the urges you have felt for years.

“You’re the devil,” you whisper.

“And you’re the fuckin’ Virgin Mary,” he counters. “You spend all your life worrying about what’s going to happen when you die. How about I show you what it’s like to live, eh?”

You set your jaw, trying to save a bit of your dignity before you give the man on the floor permission to debase you. You squeeze your eyes shut and nod your head, but that is not enough for Tommy.

“I need to hear you say it.”

You wonder if he is really concerned with how much you want this, or if this is just another power move. You swallow thickly and resolve yourself to the reality of the situation: if you want anything from the devil with the silver tongue, you’ll have to play his game.

“I want it.”

You’re Eve, and you have just been tempted to take a bite out of the apple by the snake.

With a wicked grin, Tommy presses a kiss to the inside of your knee and, embarrassingly, the contact makes you jolt. He removes your shoes, unbuckling them quickly and with ease, then placing them underneath the pew. His hands reach up your skirt to grab ahold of the top of your stocking. He gently rolls them down your smooth leg and pulls it off your foot before turning his attention to the other one.

It is unnecessary for him to undress you like this, especially when your stockings wouldn’t be an obstacle. There is something about being unusually bare in a church that makes you ache with guilt, and Tommy must know that. He seems like he knows everything.

He bunches the skirt around your upper thighs and he spreads your legs farther. This time, you don’t resist. You swear you see his mouth water when he catches a glimpse of your white knickers, pristine and perfect like a good girl should wear.

“What a precious little thing you are,” he grins.

Tommy ducks his head and drags his nose along your inner thigh until he reaches your clothed mound. He presses his face between your legs and takes a long, slow inhale like he’s smoking a cigarette. His fingers press firmly into your legs and you’re certain you will have bruises left behind. You should be upset about that but truthfully, you’ve longed for something like this.

Tommy’s fingers find the edge of your panties and gently push them to the side, exposing your pussy to the church air. Your breath hitches in your throat and you watch as he stares shamelessly at you. He swipes his finger through your folds to gather your wetness on his fingertip. He brings his hand back to show your desire glistening in the dim light.

“What’s all this?” he asks smugly.

“Don’t make fun of me,” you huff.

“Oh love, I’m not making fun. I think it’s sweet how worked up you got over nothin’.”

Tommy leans in again and his hot breath fans over your cunt, which now feels cool from being in the open. You shiver with anticipation as he nears, and your body jolts when his tongue makes contact with you. It’s a light, barely there touch but it sends an electric shock through you and elicits an embarrassing moan.

You hear him chuckle, but he doesn’t stop or say anything else. He licks a stripe from your entrance to your clit, then back down. Your hands twitch at your sides, fighting back the urge to grab him, not wanting to show how much you’re enjoying his torture. He knows, of course.

He works you up slowly, not giving too much attention to one spot, not making you too sensitive. You keep your attention focused on him, watching intently as he pleasures you. You don’t even feel the sting of his nails digging into your thighs when he sucks on your clit.

“Sir, please, this is wrong,” you try to reason, but your broken, airy voice sends a different message. You don’t want him to stop, you’d probably cry if he did, but it’s still wrong. It’s still a sin.

You hold on tightly to the edge of the wooden bench to ground yourself so you don’t get lost in the pleasure. Part of you realizes how ridiculous this situation is: a notorious gangster eating out an innocent little church girl. Another part of you couldn’t give less of a shit and just wants to cum.

“Mr. Shelby, please,” you whine. It’s unclear if you’re begging for more or to stop, but Tommy doesn’t seem to care either way. He’s going to give you what he wants and nothing more, nothing less.

He slides two fingers into your soaking cunt and curls them against that spot deep inside of you that makes your toes curl. He fucks you with his fingers and works your clit with his tongue, and you feel yourself nearing the edge faster than you ever have before.

You build up to your peak, and after a particularly harsh suck to your clit, you begin to cum. Your orgasm shutters through you, making your legs twitch on his shoulders. You let out an unintelligible whine as you grip the bench. Despite having cum, Tommy doesn’t let up on his assault. He continues to suck on your over sensitive clit until you’re shrieking and pushing his head away.

He chuckles and sits back on his heels, looking at you with a glistening face. He makes a show of pushing up his sleeve and wiping his face with the back of his hand. You want to close your legs to stop the cool air from hitting your sensitive cunt, but he is still in the way, keeping you exposed.

“Nectar of the gods in there,” he smirks, glancing down at your soaked pussy.

Without another word, he stands up. He picks up his hat and coat, and begins to walk down the aisle, leaving you alone.

“Wait,” you say, voice echoing in the church. He stops and turns around, eyebrow raised. “That’s it?”

“What more do you want?” he asks.

“What about you?”

Tommy chuckles. “Such a generous soul. I’ll take care of it myself, love. You just get to prayin’. We did a lot of sinning you have to repent for.”

You sigh and nod. “Will I see you again?”

“If I decide to become a priest,” he says with a smirk before turning on his heel and continuing out the door.

You know Tommy Shelby will never turn to priesthood, but you do have a feeling he’s found something in the church worth coming back for.

my inbox is open for requests!

[whimsiwitchy]

Controversially Young Girlfriend (part seven)

Hugh Jackman x popstar!reader 

series masterlist & main masterlist

summary: y/n is a globally beloved pop star. She is known for her talent and dedication towards her craft. Recently, she has also been known for her preference for older men. After a breakup with her former older boyfriend, she had a run in with the hottest dilf right now, Hugh Jackman. Y/n tried to warn him, but what can she say, she has an effect on hot, older men. 

warnings: age gap (23/55), cursing, y/n used, implied shorter reader, afab reader, she/her pronouns, sexual themes, pedro (srry he's a big part of this chapter)

warnings will change as the story progresses! all descriptions of real people in this story are FAKE. I do not know these people and this is purely fiction. Please let me know if I missed anything!! <3

authors note: hi everyone! I literally just posted saying idk when I would update again but I decided to look through what I had written for this part and give it to y'all. she's a short one but it's cute. somewhat proof read lol. enjoy <3

part seven: closing chapters

You’ve been back in Los Angeles for less than a day and you already missed the simplicity of being with Hugh. Los Angeles was reality and it was an ugly one. All of the responsibilities came tumbling down on you and you felt like you were stuck in an inescapable maze. As much as you wanted to stay hidden, tucked under Hugh’s protective arm forever, you had to be an adult about this. You needed to stop ignoring Ashley and talk things out with her. You also needed to talk to Pedro and close that chapter that had been left wide open. Your personal life couldn’t have picked a worse time to get interesting. Tour started in two weeks, leaving very little time to tie all loose ends before traveling the world.

When you landed this morning, you ate a quick breakfast from a small cafe and went straight to rehearsals. They ran longer today to make up for the few days you were gone but you didn’t mind. Being on stage and performing the music you worked so hard on always upped your mood, even if you were unbelievably tired at the end of the day. At the moment, you were laying in bed, trying your best to stay awake while you waited for Hugh to call. He texted you a few hours earlier saying he spent the day with his kids and talked to them about the relationship you two had built over the questionable short period of time. He didn’t go into any further detail but promised to call as soon as he got home and settled. It was a little past 10pm, making it 1am in New York. Just as you were beginning to lose hope in Hugh’s late night call, your phone lit up with Hugh’s contact. 

“Hi Hugh.” You say sweetly into the speaker, sleepiness evident in your voice. “Hi, baby. Were you sleeping?” The deep accent you adored so much rumbled through the phone. “No, I was just laying down. How are you? How was your day?” As you speak, you move to sit up, your back resting against the headboard. “My day was good. It was nice to spend some time with the kids and catch up. We did a puzzle and talked, it was a nice day. How was your day, baby?” 

“It was good, busy. Basically hopped off the plan straight into rehearsals.” You let out an airy laugh. “I’m sorry sweet girl, I should let you get some sleep.” His voice trails off at the end and you know he genuinely feels bad for calling so late. “No, no…it’s fine. I want to talk to you. I don’t start as early tomorrow so I have some time to sleep in.” You assure him. “Are you sure baby? We can always talk tomorrow.” “I’m sure.” You let out a small yawn and Hugh chuckles.  “Hm, if you say so.” 

“Whatever..” You say playfully. The line goes quiet for a moment, neither of you speaking. “So uh…you told your kids about us?” 

You wanted to ease into asking but you were dying to know. Thay had been the number one reason you’d been so hesitant to take on a relationship with Hugh and you know their opinion means something to him too. If they didn’t approve or had any distaste towards your pairing, you weren’t sure if you could be with Hugh without having a heavy layer of guilt strapped to your heart. 

“Oh yea, I told them.” 

His response makes your heart skip a beat. Hugh was never one to beat around the bush but he was dragging this out and it scared you. 

“And what did they say?” 

Hugh takes a sharp breath in and your heart falls into your stomach. They don’t approve, you can sense the words about to tumble out of his mouth. 

“They’re fine with it.” 

His short answers are beginning to irritate you a little bit. You needed to know every detail of their conversation, you wouldn’t be able to sleep without it. 

“Hugh, can you please just tell me everything? Your lack of words is driving me insane.” You draw out the end of the last word, showing him just how frustrated you are. 

“I’m sorry baby, there's not much to tell. My daughter is a fan and begged me to introduce you two and um…well my son…he uh..this is so fucking awkward…” He huffs. “What did he say? I’m sure it can’t be that bad if they’re fine with everything right? Just spit it out, I can take it.” He sighs. “My son has a crush on you.” 

“Oh!” You can feel your body heat up underneath your duvet. “That uh…that is kinda awkward. What did he say about us being together then?” 

“He said something about how he doesn't understand how I was able to ‘bag a baddie’ like you, whatever that means.” You laugh at that. “He’s not mad, just jealous I guess. I’m really gonna have to keep an eye out for him when you meet them. I trust him, he’s my son, but I’m not gonna stand for his eyes wandering on my girl.”

You laugh again, partially because of his words and partially because of how wild this entire conversation is. 

“Well I’d love to meet your daughter and she’s free to come to any show she wants, I'll get her in. Same goes for your son as well, if that’s okay with you. I don’t want you to get too jealous and cause a fight between you two.” You giggle through the last few words. 

“Yea yea, we’ll see.” 

The line goes quiet again, a comfortable silence. 

“Hugh, I have a question.” “Shoot baby.” You can hear the sleepiness starting to appear in his voice. “I was wondering if you’d be okay with me going to talk to Pedro soon?” You hear rustling on his end before he speaks again. “Why do you want to do that?” There’s a slight hint of anger in his tone but you know it’s not towards you but towards how Pedro treated you. “I really need to talk things out with him. As much as I'm over him, there’s still a little part of me that needs closure, that needs to ask questions. I want this part of my life to be done but I need to have it properly sealed off.” “Could you wait until I’m back in town? I trust you but I don’t trust him one bit.” You smile at his protectiveness. “I really want to fix everything before the tour starts. I need to talk to Ashley too and the sooner I can get over this, the sooner I can put all my focus on the tour and you. So unless you’re planning on being back in town in a week, I need to do this alone. Is that okay?” He sighs and takes a moment. “Of course that’s fine baby. Just keep me updated on everything that happens.” “I will.” The two of you talk for 20 more minutes before you both call it a night, ending the call with “I love you”. 

The next morning, you immediately texted Hugh before rolling out of bed and starting your day. You showered, brushed your teeth, got dressed, and made your way to the kitchen. You opted for a lazy breakfast, too tired to do anything else. You popped a bagel into the toaster and fried an egg, laying a slice of cheese on top to melt. You made your little bagel breakfast sandwich and washed a few berries to go with it. 

While you ate, you scrolled through your phone. Hugh hasn't texted you back yet but it didn't surprise you. He was up late and with his age, he needed his sleep. You smiled to yourself as you thought about how peaceful he looks while he’s deep in sleep. While scrolling through instagram, you get an ad for Gladiator II. Your ex’s stupid hot face was plastered on your phone. You sighed and pulled up his contact. You were grateful you deleted the text thread you once had, you weren’t sure if you could handle seeing all of the previous sweet words he used to send you. 

You: hey p, it’s y/n. I was wondering if we could meet up soon and talk? no pressure :) 

Once you hit send, you locked your phone and slid it across your kitchen table. Your phone buzzed a few seconds later and your heart started beating faster…there’s no way he could have already responded. You reached for your phone, having to lift out of your chair slightly. When your phone unlocks, your heart slows down, it’s just Hugh. 

You texted back and forth with Hugh all morning until you pulled up to the Kia Forum. Tour was officially a week away from starting which meant you got to rehearse in the venue that would be starting the tour off. You’d been in the Forum a few times for various concerts but being here for your own performance was a different animal. Knowing that this place was sold out for you was wild. You caught up with all of your dancers, them sharing the same excitement. The energy in the building was electric. The crew was excited to get their creations in full and everyone was just happy to finally be starting. 

With being in a new space, the start of rehearsal was a bit slow. Lights, sounds, and various other things had to be adjusted now that everything was in full. You didn’t mind though. It gives you a chance to slow down and appreciate how far you’ve come. It was lunchtime and you decided to hide away in your dressing room to eat. A few people offered you to come with them but you really needed a moment to yourself. You were overwhelmed but in a good way. You grabbed some food from the catering someone had ordered, you made a note to yourself to find out who it was and thank them. 

Once you got to your dressing room, you pulled your phone out of your purse and scrolled through your notification log. Hugh’s messages were the first thing you saw. You were responding to everything he had sent when another message popped up at the top of your phone. 

pedro: hey y/n. I’m free today if you wanna swing by sometime? 

You pulled up to the familiar gates and typed in the code that was still etched in your brain. Once you parked your car in the semi circle driveway, you texted Pedro that you were here before taking a deep breath and stepping out of your car. It always looked out of place next to the large home, even more now that you didn’t belong here the way you once had. One of the brown French style doors open just as you're walking up the three concrete steps that lead to the entrance. You look up from your shoes. Locking eyes with Pedro, you feel your heart tense up. The pain of losing the man you had felt so deeply for re-entered your body involuntarily. He was wearing his typical casual attire: a pair of black cotton shorts, his beloved yellow lakers tee, and a pair of long black socks. The slight gray in his hair had begun to spread, the sides of his beard almost losing all color. He looked as handsome as ever. He held the door open with one arm, leaning slightly. A small smile rested on his face and his brown puppy dog eyes gave you the same feeling they had when you had first met him. 

“Hi y/n.” His voice sounded almost hesitant. “Hi P…Thanks for having me.” He backs up to let you inside. You slip your shoes off, like you had many times before. “No problem. I’m kinda surprised you wanted to talk to me, thought you would’ve been done with me after…well you know.” You don’t answer, instead you walk towards his living room and plop yourself down in the spot you had claimed many months ago, Pedro taking his own claimed spot not too far from yours. “It’s weird seeing you there again…missed seeing you here.” You sigh. “Pedro…don’t say that.” “Why not?” “You don’t get to miss me when you’re the one that left me. You hurt me P. Not the other way around.” He scoffs. “Sure didn’t seem too hurt to me. You moved on just fine.” “Can you stop being an asshole for two fucking seconds?” 

You wanted to come into this with patience and maturity but Pedro was making that impossible. He was being completely insufferable and had been since the moment he broke up with you, like it was somehow your fault. You missed the kind Pedro, the one you had fallen for. 

“Well it’s true, isn’t it? It took a month before you fell into someone else's arms, no let me clarify, my friend’s arms.” You could tell he was trying to get under your skin and you didn’t know where he gained this hatred for you. His voice was sour, a scowl present on his face. 

“God Pedro…” You sigh in anger. “Yes I invited him to the album party but he was there for me when you sat there and yelled- no embarrassed me at my own event. You don’t get to play victim in this situation. We weren’t together and hadn’t been together for weeks by the time I met him.” You could tell you were beginning to lose control over your emotions. The anger and pain both battled reaching for your throat begging to take control over your next words. 

His eyes go soft as he starts to speak again. “Y/n…I’m sorry about that, I was drunk and I-” 

You couldn’t help but laugh. 

“You know what? Fuck you Pedro. Truly. You are the most selfish person I’ve ever met. You broke up with me because the pressure was too hard on you. You come to my event and try to grab me, then you yell at me because Hugh came to check on me. Now you’re mad that I found someone that actually gives two shits about me, that isn’t afraid to deal with whatever comes with dating a younger girl? I’m over it.” You laugh again. “And now you want to apologize for that night when you’ve been nothing but rude since I sat on this couch? I came here for closure, nothing more. I liked you Pedro. I really really like you and you crushed my heart that night and every time I’ve seen you after. I don’t understand what I did to deserve this hatred that you’ve been throwing at me but it’s not fair.” 

Your anger had won the battle but your sadness would win the war. Your voice broke on your last words, hot tears pouring down your cheeks. 

“It’s not fucking fair P…” 

You tuck your face into your sweatshirt, allowing yourself to cry in peace. Pedro doesn’t speak and the silence lasts for what feels like forever. You could feel a slight movement on the couch, then two warm arms wrap around your shoulder, a chin resting atop your head. The two of you stay like that for a while. You let your tears flood your cheeks until there aren’t any left. 

“I’m so sorry babygirl. I didn’t mean to hurt you like this.” 

You slowly pull your face out of the sweater. One of Pedro’s arms drops to rest on his leg, the other lay across your shoulders still. His water line was filled with his own tears, eyes red. 

“Then why did you?” He takes a moment to think and pulls you into his chest. Your head resting right above his heart, the beat a little faster than the one you had memorized. 

“Shit y/n…I know no matter how I say this, it’s gonna sound fucked up.” He squeezes his arms gently. “I was so scared, baby. When everyone started to form their opinions on us and kept pinning me to be some weirdo, I freaked out. I’m at the height of my career and I couldn’t imagine losing that…and you were right, I'm selfish. When I let you go, I immediately regretted it. I showed up to your party wanting to apologize. I had a few drinks, some liquid courage if you will, but damn baby, those fruity little drinks were a lot stronger than I thought they’d be.” You chuckle at the comment. “I was waisted by the time I saw you and when…Hu-...when he came to defend you, I lost my shit. I was so pissed off. Even in the state I was in, the look in his eyes was loud. He looked at you with so much adoration and I knew I’d already lost you.” 

He pauses. 

“I’m not trying to make excuses for myself, I just..I just want you to- no, I need you to know what happened. I’m sorry for being an ass today too. I guess I’m not over you and it hurts that you’re over me.” 

You look up at him. 

“I’m not trying to be mean when I say this P but it’s your fault. I could’ve loved you….I was falling in love with you. My time with you was special, so different than anything I’d ever felt before. I think we would’ve been good together. If you would have talked to me, maybe things would be different. You should have talked to me.” 

“We could’ve been the greatest?” He gives a lazy smile down to you and you look down in shame, wincing slightly. “You watched it?” You ask quietly. “Yea I did.” He pauses. “You sounded beautiful up there, you’re so talented y/n…even if it was so clearly targeted towards me.” The arm that's wrapped around your shoulder moves, his hand resting on your head now, moving in slow circles. 

“Would you ever give us another chance?” He asks, looking down at you. The hope in his eyes pains you. 

“I love him P…” You see the small glimmer of happiness drain from his face. You were feeling just as hurt, knowing that if Hugh hadn’t entered your life when he did or if you had talked to Pedro sooner, you’d give him another chance without a second thought. 

“Does he treat you good?” You almost scoff at the question, given who’s asking, but you don’t have the heart to be mean to him anymore. “Yea he does…” You smile at the thought of just how well Hugh does treat you. “Well, then I’m happy for you.” 

“Are you really or are you just trying to be nice?” You joke and he shrugs. “The latter but truthfully if you were going to be with anyone other than myself, I’m glad it’s him. He’s good.” He smiles down at you and it almost reaches his eyes. “Speaking of Hugh…you kinda owe him an apology, mister.” You poke at the side of his chest that you’re not leaning on. “For what? Stealing my girl?” His words make your tummy stir. “I wasn’t your girl anymore. You called him old and yelled at him. He’s your friend, so apologize.” 

“He is old.” You punch his arm and give him a look. “Ow..fuck. Fine, I’ll apologize but I’m not sure how buddy buddy I can be with him anymore.” “I don’t really care about that, as long as you’re nice to him.” 

He doesn’t respond. You spend a few minutes feeling the warmth of his embrace, it was something you were going to miss. As much as you loved Hugh, Pedro had been someone special to you and it hurt to let him go, even with what he put you through. 

“How much longer do my pictures have on your instagram before I’m replaced by Hugh?” He jokes and your eyes go wide. “Oh fuck me…” You had completely forgotten about the pictures that littered your page. “I will.” He smirks. “Shut the fuck up. I’m deleting them in front of your face just for saying that.” You whip out your phone. There are a few texts from Hugh on the homescreen asking how it’s going. “I’m surprised your guard dog let you come alone.” “Oh believe me, he didn’t want me to but he’s in New York and couldn’t stop me.” You open instagram. “And for that comment, I'm making you press delete on these. You can feel the finalization of us being over. Consider it punishment for being such a dick.”  He laughed and pressed delete on the first one. 

In the third picture, you started to regret this ‘punishment’. “We were a cute couple. You remember that one? That’s when you came over and we fucked like rabbits all week-” “Okay your done. Give me my phone.” You shove him away after and he lets out a deep belly laugh. The sound made you pause for a moment. This was the Pedro you had enjoyed being around. It was always so easy to joke around with him and be yourself. You would miss him. 

series taglist: @chronicallybubbly @spideybv28 @pear-1206 @robertthehoover @reidsworld @bloody-bunni666 @quillycrow @kythefangirl25 @bluetimeombre @cskidjgsjaoaknayan52782 @thewiselionessss @annagraceevanss @peterparkernotfound @rogueinmymind @samsamsantos @wolviesgirl @white-wolf-buckaroo @weskerussy @marvelgirlie-4 @honey-ros3ss @nonamevenus @nizem8 @chaimshelii @rockerchick05 @starryeddie @saylak @haytchee @godlypresley @mega-kittyglitter-1 @acescutejeans-1247 @bethexo07

*taglist closed*

[uglypastels]

Eddie knows you have a voice kink and decides to take advantage of it 👀

(ie not me having a voice kink, absolutely not)

this took me too long but i also tried to rewrite this like four times because ughhhhh you are so fucking real for this one. im obsessed. so yeah, i hope you enjoy it <3 and thank you for the request

warnings: 18+ only MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. porn without plot, straight from the beginning. voice kink, so obviously dirty talk. fingering. mention of oral (f receiving). mention of p in v sex. bondage. (soft) dom!eddie.

masterlist // inbox //

‘Fuck sweetheart, you look so pretty, all spread out for me like that,’ Eddie smirked as he looked down at you. His hair fell over your face as he leaned in for a soft kiss, and his hands found their place at your hips. You couldn’t help but arch your back, feeling that gravitational pull that Eddie exerted… as the handcuffs dug into your wrists, there was little you could do but thrust your hips his way. 

‘So—fucking—pretty.’ He muttered between kisses over your cheek and jaw. ‘Could put you in a museum. Hang you up like this. Look at you all day.’ His voice was gruff, filled with the sexual frustration you were both tortured with over the past few hours, but the cheek and humour never left him. 

‘Maybe we should, hmm?’ His low hum sent shivers all through your neck and down your spine. ‘Hang you up, I mean. I still got that hook in the ceiling from the–’ 

‘Maybe– maybe next time, Eddie.’ It wasn’t the worst idea he had come up with, but you were so far gone you couldn’t imagine yourself getting out of this bed. All you could focus on was the deep growl of his voice– the meaning of the words barely even settled in your brain. 

‘It’s a deal, baby.’ He smiled and gave you another kiss which you returned with a moan. One of his hands had found its way up to your breast, pressing into the soft skin, thumb roaming over the most sensitive parts. 

‘Eddie,’ you moaned his name out softly, receiving another hum in response. 

‘I know, baby.’ He said after you got stuck on his name for a moment or two. ‘Don’t worry; I’ll make you feel good.’ His kisses were going lower and lower. Peppering your neck, breast, and abdomen. His path was marked out clearly. ‘So, good.’

But you whined in desperation as his lips reached below your stomach. If it hadn’t felt so good, maybe you would have been quicker on the notice, but despite it all, you still had needs. 

Eddie halted in his moves at your word. His grip on you tightened securely, big brown eyes locked in on you, checking for any signs of worry. With everything put on hold, you became more conscious of the fire burning in your body for him. Couldn’t lay still, but Eddie wouldn’t move.

‘What’s wrong, sweetheart?’ 

‘I don’t–’ He was so far away, and you couldn’t do anything about it with those damn handcuffs locking you in. They wouldn’t budge even at your hardest pull, and with each second, it was becoming harder and harder to think. ‘Eddie, I–’ 

‘Yeah?’ He rubbed his hand over your thigh. It must have been meant as reassurance, but all the triggers were shot up straight to your core. ‘Baby? Hey, are you still with me?’ 

‘Yes, just...’ You didn’t want to say it. Eddie raised a curious brow as you tried to spit out your wish.

‘Don’t go down on me. Not right now.’

‘Everything good down there?’ He squeezed your thigh a bit harder, a playful grin on his lips again.

‘Yes, it’s fine, fuck me if you want, just not– not with your mouth.’ 

Eddie couldn’t help the small scoff that passed his lips. ‘Ok… may I ask why?’ He tried not to look offended. You knew how much he loved this specific activity, and usually, you did too, but this time, something different got you going. 

‘Because I–’ you huffed out, ‘because I’m getting turned on by you talking right now, so I don’t want you to stop now just to eat me out.’ If you hadn’t been cuffed to the bed posts, you would have hidden underneath the covers in embarrassment. 

There was a second of silence as Eddie processed what you said. He blinked slowly and started to climb his way back up to the head of the bed. Arms on either side of you, locking you in even more. 

His lips were nearly on yours as he spoke again. ‘Speaking of talking, we should do something about this shyness of yours. You know I will do anything for you, princess, so why not just tell me? You’re a big girl, aren’t you?’ 

 ‘Y-yes.’ The small word got caught in your throat. Nevertheless, Eddie rewarded it with a brief kiss.

‘Hmm, so you want me to talk,’ he said after pulling away, ‘what should I talk about?’ 

‘Anything— sex!’ You added quickly, knowing how Eddie could be with his humour. ‘Anything that’s– you know.’ 

‘You want me to say what I wanna do to you? How I’m going to fuck you? Hmm, is that what my princess wants?’ With each word, his voice got deeper, darker. 

‘Yes, please.’  While yours became breathless, encapsulated in moans. ‘Please, Eddie.’

‘God, I love how you beg for me, how you say my name. Gonna make you scream it tonight, baby. You’re gonna be my good girl and scream for me when I stretch your tight little pussy, hmm? Will you do that for me?’

‘Yes, yes, yes.’ You squeaked out the last word when you felt his hand down on you. 

‘Thought so. Always so good for me.’ Eddie slowly started closing his fingers in on your slit, carefully approaching it with his next question too. ‘Would have loved to have my mouth on you now, sweetheart. Lick you fucking up… but my fingers will do for now, won’t they?’ He said it as if the feeling of having him deep inside you wasn’t ecstatic. Like you didn’t daydream about those fingers almost every day. 

 ‘I want them in me, Eddie. Fuck. I need it.’ And as soon as he heard it, Eddie started rubbing those close circles on your clit, getting you even more hot and bothered and ready for what was next to come. 

‘Fuck, you’re so wet, baby.’ He had a Cheshire cat smile across his face as he kept on teasing your slit. ‘All for me? All for my voice?’ 

‘You know it is.’ It wasn’t the first time you expressed your love for how Eddie sounds. You had told him on several occasions he had a hot voice, both on and off stage and in bed, but this time was certainly on a new level. Something in you felt like you could cum just from listening to him. 

‘Perhaps, but I’d still like you to say it.’ He kissed your cheek. 

‘Your voice turns me on so fucking much, Eddie.’ At this moment, he finally decided to insert his fingers and push them deep inside you. ‘Oh, fuck.’

‘I fucking adore you, baby. Taking my fingers so well– shit, I can feel you clenching as I speak. Oh, you really do love it, don’t you? Just wait until I really have my way with you– oh, fuck.’ He chuckled as you reacted to his words and actions. He leaned in so his words would be directly at your ear. Soft but nasty whispers to electrify your whole being. ‘Just imagine how good it will feel when I have my cock inside you, baby. Fill you up and fuck all thoughts out of you. Until you can’t say anything but my name. Until you can’t think about anything but me.’

‘Eddiee,’ you whined as he sped up his movements, making you shake with his fingers alone. 

‘That’s right, baby. C’mon, don’t be scared to be loud. Do you know how hot you fucking sound like this? All fucked out, and because of me? Hmm, want everyone around to know how good you’re being treated here. My princess fucked like a proper queen, aren’t you?’ 

All you could do was nod. You could hear the wetness of your pussy by this point. The tight knot in your stomach was only getting worse, ready to burst, while Eddie had no intention of stopping soon. 

‘Yeah, you’re close, hmm?  Yeah, I can tell. Fuck, c’mon, come for me, baby.’ His was was so deep and aggressive that it felt more like growling. ‘Come on, my fingers. C’mon.’

When it finally happened, your whole body went limp as the pleasure overcame you.

Eddie praised you through it all, his voice now covered in honey. ‘Such a good girl. Fuck, you did so well.’ But it might have all become too much when he pulled his fingers out of you, now glistening in your juices, and put them in his mouth. He hummed with satisfaction at the taste and, once done, smiled wickedly once more and said: ‘Divine, I tell you, sweetheart. Fucking. Divine.’ His hand was soaked up to his wrist, so he went to lick his palm. ‘Might have to go in for more later on either way.’

‘Give me a moment, why don’t you,’ you laughed, out of breath.

‘Of course, of course.’ He kissed your forehead. ‘But don’t think I’m done with you just yet.’ 

the end.

yeah, kinda ironic ending there. lol. sorry.

but thank you so much for reading!! please consider supporting with comments and reblogs <3 (maybe leave a review??) I would love to see what you thought of it <3