#but the free pass to just be however you are and it's just accepted as charming is enviable ngl

[gabessquishytum]

It’s been like. Five whole minutes since I’ve turned fun sex things into hurt/comfort. So. :)

human au, when Dream and Hob get together Hob thinks Dream has a run-of-the-mill oral fixation. He always seems to want to suck Hob’s cock, warm his cock In his mouth for ages, when they have sex he insists he wears some kind of gag.

The truth is though… it’s not that Dream doesn’t like those things, but that’s not why he does it. He’s just very insecure about any noise that could come out of his mouth.

People always tell him how awkward he is and that he can barely hold a normal conversation (he has no idea how he landed people-person, charismatic Hob) so he’s certain he’d fail at dirty talk. And his laugh is so ugly, surely any moans or noises he makes during sex would be equally awful. And of course, his worst nightmare is getting caught up in the moment and letting an “I love you” slip FAR too early in the relationship than is acceptable. There is simply no way anything good could come from his mouth (ever, but especially during sex) so he deals with it by keeping his mouth occupied.

I can’t decide how Hob figures it out- if he puts all the pieces together during sex or foreplay, or if it somehow comes out during a more domestic moment. Either way, he insists on ravishing Dream with his mouth free and uncovered so he can hear every lovely sound he makes (and prove that he loves his silly boyfriend no matter what).

-🦇

We love the hurt/comfort smut here!!!! Hell yeah!!!!

I have a certain idea about how Hob finds out about Dream’s whole complicated relationship with his own vocality. It all comes out when Dream, quite suddenly loses his voice altogether. He gets a little bout of laryngitis during flu season, and while he's not super sick, he also can't speak. He's reduced to texting and writing little notes while Hob fusses over him and makes him plenty of nice cups of tea.

During his illness, Dream is visited by his sibling Desire. Hob has never met them before, but honestly he's more focused on Dream than anything else. He has a vague notion that the two siblings don't exactly get on, however, and this becomes apparent when Desire makes a series of quips about what a relief it is to have Dream silenced. If only he would be quiet all the time! He's so much more bearable when he's not making any noise.

Hob clocks Dream’s face during this series of bad jokes and all he sees is... resignation. He realises that Dream believes Desire's cruel words. Everything starts to make sense.

After the laryngitis passes and bedroom activities are back on the menu, Hob cautiously broaches the fact that he really doesn't want Dream to be gagged this time. He doesn't want him to muffle his face in the pillow, either. He'd quite like to have some very boring and tender missionary sex, and he'd like to hear Dream’s voice and his noises the whole time.

Unfortunately for Dream he's in love, and he can't deny Hob anything, let alone something so sweet and pure. He's sure that Hob will be disgusted by his noises, but he agrees anyway. Maybe Hob will forgive him for being so loud, if he behaves himself well in other ways...

In reality Hob is the one making the most noise because he absolutely sobs his way through the sex. Hearing his sweet Dream's pleasure for the first time is so overwhelming and almost spiritual, he can't help but cry. There's a long way to go, but Hob is determined: he's going to make sure that Dream is never silenced again. Hob wants to hear everything that comes from his beloved's mouth - especially if its an "I love you!"

[intimidating-fettuccine]

I’m so excited because I got out of class early and I had time to make sure this ask was ready to go

Let me know if this doesn’t quite make sense, and I’ll try to clarify, but:

—

Jeff seeing/knowing his s/o died in a fight, but seeing them alive and well two years later, obvious they had been alive those two years, but they have no memory of him or any of the time they spent with Jeff. Bonus sad points if they were married or had some sort of matching thing so s/o KNOWS something was up with the two of them, but they don’t remember.

—

Feel free to use this prompt for anyone else you wanna write for :D

I hope you enjoy! This got super extremely long because I was feeling inspired ^^' I hope you're fine with the direction I took this in :)

It destroyed him. Watching you die that day was the most difficult thing he's ever had to cope with in his entire life, and he still struggles to cope with it some days even two years later. He's spent so long mourning your loss, that when he sees you walking around one day he thinks it must be a hallucination or someone that just looks far too similar to you, and he continues on his way. At least, until he hears that incredibly familiar laugh he first fell in love with all those years ago, and he's whipping back around, eyes locked on you as you converse with the unfamiliar person at your side. His feet move immediately, pushing him forward, but at the same time, you happen to drop something. He picks it up for you and hands it to you, and his eyes land on the ring decorating your finger, the one that matches the one on his hand, the custom-made promise rings the two of you had. You accept the item you dropped without complaint, your eyes also noticing the ring on his finger, but before he can say anything you just thank him and walk away.

He's so shocked by it that he just stands there for what feels like hours, before making a beeline back to the mansion. With Slender and BEN's investigative assistance, Jeff learns you didn't die that day, and he also learns that you have no memories of your time before then. You're still in the Underworld, still wandering around and joyful as ever, but you have no memory of him at all, and that thought alone is destroying Jeff all over again. The years you'd spent together, your promises of being together forever, all of your plans for the future, vanished. He finds himself entering an existential state of limbo in the coming weeks, not sure if he should try to find you and reconnect, or if he should just let you carry on your new life as you presently are. In the end, he decides to let you go. With all of his trauma and issues, with all of the struggles you both experienced gone from your memory, he feels as though it would be unfair to force you to learn how to love him and care for him again. You, however, have a completely different plan than Jeff.

It was eating you alive, the ring he was wearing on his finger, the familiarity in his eyes, the disappointment at your swift exit. You had to learn who he was, and how he was connected to you, you finally had a clue to your life before your amnesia and you weren't going to let it pass. It wasn't hard for you to track him down, with how well known he is in the Underworld and the fact that everyone knows he works for Slender, but you also spent time waiting and wondering what you should do. Eventually, you decided on it; you were just going to have to force him to talk to you. So, there you stood, anxiously on the front porch of a mansion that seemed far too familiar for you having no memory of it, and upon the door opening, a group of faces greeting you that were also far too familiar. Slender calls Jeff down and tells him he has a guest waiting outside, and when he comes out to see you, he feels his world halting once again. You both sit on the front porch in silence for quite a while, but you break the ice first, asking him who he is, and why he has your ring. You have a feeling you already know the answer, and when he looks at you in misery, tears flooding his eyes, you know you were right, without him even having to confirm it verbally.

Jeff explains it all to you, everything. How you met, when you started dating, what your relationship was like, all of your plans for the future together, the significance of the rings he had made for you, and most importantly, the day he thought you died. It's a shock to you, of course it is, but bits and pieces of things he says, you can catch small glimpses of them in your lost memories. A night under the stars, mornings spent waking up together, an exchanging of rings. You can catch small glimpses of him, but it feels so far away. It is, however, enough for you to believe him. It feels right, sitting beside him on the steps. It feels warm, and comforting, like you belong there beside him, and when you shyly move your leg to press against his it feels so oddly familiar and correct that you find yourself being moved to tears. He tells you he didn't want to trouble you, didn't want to make you have to deal with his fucked up life and issues all over again, he thought it would be cruel, and you can only smile at him through the tears.

You tell him you have a feeling the you that he knew would be upset at him for even insisting that, and he laughs, saying that you're probably right. Neither of you makes a move to leave, to end your reminiscing as he continues telling you stories, and both of you are okay with that. It's you who finally asks the question weighing on both of you. If you can try again. If you can try from the beginning, try to love him again and become a part of his life again. He smiles a smile that has your heart racing and cheeks growing warm, and lifts your hand, saying he gave you this ring along with a promise to stay by your side for the rest of your life, no matter what. He kisses the ring on your finger, and the brush of his lips makes you long for more. He agrees easily to start over, saying he'll never give up on you, but he can't help the chuckle that follows as he simply requests that you not disappear again, and there on that front porch you make your second eternal promise to each other, that this time you'll protect each other, and stay together no matter what. A promise you both successfully keep, to the end of your lives.

[vimbry]

having even the slightest bit of notoriety would absolutely not be worth the trade-off, bc it looks like an absolute nightmare to live life being Known, but the only good thing that would come from fame is that you can basically act however you want and most of the time people just think it's eccentric.

[p0ison-moon]

I have what’s going to be a really unpopular take but please just hear me out. Lately a lot of fellow Jewish bloggers on this website have (rightfully!!) been getting annoyed by random people going into their inboxes and asking if they’re Zionist, how they feel about Israel, etc. And I totally empathize with that because I’m an anti-Zionist Jew so I spend a lot of time correcting people’s assumptions that I must support Israel because I’m Jewish. Furthermore, I want Zionism to stop being seen as a central, undeniable part of being Jewish because that makes Jews like me feel pretty unwelcome. And I am aware that those asks often accuse us of dual loyalty, an antisemitic stereotype. So I’m not saying bloggers should have to answer those asks, or that they can’t get mad about them.

However, I think bloggers are wrong when they say that they can’t affect or change what happens in Israel because they’re American Jews (or otherwise diasporic, but it is almost always Americans who say this), not Israeli Jews.

Look. It’s one thing if you just don’t want to get involved (although I am totally judging you). But I can name a billion different ways American Jews have changed things in Israel, and stuff we can do right now! For example:

- protesting our tax dollars paying for weapons and bombs Israel uses to kill Palestinians, by pressuring our elected representatives, senators, and president into taking a stand against Israel

- supporting the Not on Our Dime Act, which is aiming to prohibit tax-deductible donations from being used to fund illegal Israeli settlements in the West Bank

- working to change Jewish studies curriculum and summer camp + youth group programming to provide kids and students with more options than just Zionism, and a more complete + less biased education about Israel

- no tech for apartheid: Jewish Google workers protesting against Project Nimbus, which helps the Israeli government with surveillance of Palestinians

- using our position to educate people and make our opinions heard, so we don’t let Jewish Zionist organizations speak for us all and influence what gentiles think about Israel and current-day antisemitism

- I have my own opinions about the recent protests over Netanyahu’s judicial reform, but lots of American Jews supported them and they were definitely effective

- and that’s just a few of the many ways I’ve seen American Jews work towards creating real change in Israel. are we the only ones who can do this? no. but gentiles can’t shape the future of the American Jewish community, which altogether has quite a lot of influence in Israel. only we can do those things.

Saying that as American Jews our voices and actions don’t matter when it comes to Israel is actually such a weak, lame-ass excuse for refusing to take a stance for or against Israel. This isn’t something we get to be neutral about; silence equals support for Zionism.

That being said, I can’t control what individual people do. If you seriously want to refuse to support Palestine, fine. Whatever. Just please stop using “American Jews can’t help anyways!” as your excuse when that’s such a blatantly false claim.

[monsterfuckerconfessions]

The idea of being fucked by ghosts ngh

Imagine you just moved into a new house. The AC is busted which sucks when it's hot as fuck out but hey who are you to complain when it was so suspiciously cheap?

Because of aforementioned heat, the only way you can comfortably fall asleep is naked. As you lay down for bed that night, you get an odd feeling. Too exhausted from the big move, you chalk it up to the anxiety of sleeping in a new home and go to sleep.

You're having a wonderful dream about your favorite fantasy when suddenly you're awoken by the most intense orgasm you've ever experienced. You have no time to acclimate to what's going on- you're immediately made aware of how your body is being violently bounced- no, fucked against the headboard of your bed.

Your legs are being held up by god knows what- something you try to discern when your gaze snaps to between your legs only to see nothing there except your embarrassingly wet cunt. The mirror at the foot of the bed, which you never got around to moving, confirms what you're trying to wrap your mind around in a mix of both fear and arousal: you're being fucked by something invisible.

A few more thrusts of the massive force inside of you has you crying out, the pleasure overwhelming- but your moans are cut short by another invisible presence forcing itself into your open mouth.

Drool and tears stream down your face as you gag and get pounded between two beings you can't see. You're quickly brought to the edge of another orgasm when suddenly both invisible masses rip free of you, leaving you coughing and gaped.

You're about to whine until you're manhandled into a new position. Your ghostly assailants waste no time, stuffing you full once more- except this time there's a third in your ass now, too. Your new otherworldly friends use you over and over all night, until you reach an orgasm so good that you pass out.

When you wake up in the morning, there's no evidence that the events of last night were anything more than the most erotic dream you've ever dreamt- though it is quite embarrassing to have squirted in your sleep..

Later that day, you're just out and about running a few necessary errands when you feel something prodding at your clothed cunt. You freeze, looking around only to find you're seated in the back of the bus alone. You brush it off as just your body being weird and readjust how you're sitting.

A few minutes go by, and the prodding is back- albeit more insistent. You're just about to get up and check under you to see if you're sitting on anything when you feel something slam into your defenseless cunt.

Involuntarily, you let out a moan. Your gratitude for the bus being empty doesnt last long, however- as it reaches the next stop and a dozen or so people flood in. All the while, your ghost is still fucking up into you with the force of a freight train.

It's a Herculean task to pretend as if your pussy isn't being ruthlessly pounded into oblivion. You're biting your lip so hard you've made it bleed- and you're gripping the seat besides you so tightly that your knuckles have turned white.

At one point, you try pressing all your weight down in order to stop yourself from bouncing on the massive cock inside of you, but the phantom grip on your hips just tightens and begins using you as a fleshlight.

The ghosts don't care if you're embarrassed, or overstimulated. They're going to fuck you wherever they want, whenever they want, for as long as it takes to satisfy them. You'll accept the job of being their free use slut, eventually. You know you love it.

.

[cozage]

congratulations on reaching 2k 🫶💕

For the event, I was wondering if you could do option one with reader being hit on right in front of them? With shanks, Sanji, zoro and if possible Nami <3

Hehe I love your writing so much!!

Hii thank you! And thank you for the request :)

Characters: gn reader x Shanks, Sanji, Zoro, Nami Cw: creepy bar guys who can't take a hint Total word count: 730

Take a Hint

Shanks

Shanks’s reaction really depends on the kind of mood he’s in. 

Sometimes, you both go into a bar in a competitive mind, trying to see who can get more free drinks throughout the night. 

He enjoys watching guys trying to flirt with you. Plus, free booze is free booze. It’s funny how they never seem to ask if you’re there with someone before they buy you a round. 

But sometimes it really rubs him the wrong way (especially when he’s in the middle of a conversation with you and someone interrupts him to talk to you). 

He usually says some snarky comment like “If you’re going to buy one for my friend here, you should probably buy one for me, considering we’re together.”

He doesn’t ever start a fight, but he will finish them. And he will always take up for you if someone says something rude to you or tries to put their hands on you. 

Sanji

People rarely get the chance to try and flirt with you because Sanji is literally all over you 24/7. He wants everyone to know that he belongs to you. 

However, there are some brave (and foolish) souls that sometimes try while he’s got his back turned or he steps away from a moment. 

The moment he is back, he immediately steps between you and the man who’s trying to shoot his shot. “Is this guy bothering you?” he’ll ask.

He’ll turn back to the guy, his curly brows furrowed in anger. “Unless you want to get your ass kicked, buddy, you might want to move along.”

Afterward the flirter leaves, Sanji will fawn over you, asking if the man hurt you or did anything that made you uncomfortable. He won't relax until he knows for sure you’re okay. 

Zoro

Zoro knows you can handle yourself. And besides, it’s amusing to watch. 

He lets you handle the situation. Most of the guys take rejections pretty well, but there are a few stubborn ones who insist on buying you a drink even after you’ve turned them down. So you accept a drink.

When you accept, Zoro’s focus on you usually sharpens slightly. He watches carefully for any passes this guy might try to make on you. If you show even an ounce of discomfort, Zoro’s hand is resting on his blade, just in case. 

Your eyes meet his, and he’ll mouth “You okay?”. If yes, he’ll leave you be. But if it’s no, he’ll take action. 

He’ll position himself between you and the man, taking a nice long drink of the alcohol the guy bought you. Then he’ll plant a kiss firmly on your lips and smirk at you, ignoring the fussing happening from the other man. 

“Listen man,” he’ll say, resting his hand on his blade as he turns to him. “I think you need to learn what rejection is. So why don’t you just buzz off, and leave us alone to enjoy this fine alcohol?”

If it leads to a fight, that’s fine. Zoro has never minded fighting for your honor before. And he’s never lost a bar fight. 

Nami

Listen, Nami is no stranger to people flirting with her. And neither are you. 

Plus, free things are always better. Which is why you two set up a system. 

If a guy starts flirting with you and can’t take a hint, well, he’s basically just inviting in some unfortunate circumstances. 

So you let him buy you a drink. Maybe two, if you’re feeling crazy. You keep him distracted, telling him stories about your life. 

Of course he thinks you need saving by a big strong man or whatever he imagines he is. He has no clue you could knock him out in about 3 seconds flat. But you just smile and listen to his clearly made-up stories. 

Meanwhile, Nami is absolutely robbing him blind. It’s actually hilarious to watch. She starts out with his wallet, but she slowly gets more confident as he gets more drunk. She steals his necklace, watch, even his rings. She’s truly amazing at thievery; you can’t help but be in awe at her skill.

At the end of the night, he goes to pay his tab, and you and Nami quietly slip out together hand-in-hand, serenaded by the screams of panic from that dreadful man.

[i-am-lifeform24]

Curated Companions: Part 2

--------------🔞Masterlist🔞Part 1🔞Part 3🔞Part 4🔞---------------

---------[ IVE Wonyoung - @okaylikesmomo ]----------

Were clocks always this loud? Every tick, every tock, each one reverberating against your eardrums. The cacophony of time passing did nothing to help make it pass quicker - every second felt like a minute. Did hotel rooms typically have analog clocks? Was that a perk of being placed into a more boujee room? This evening was going to be filled with many firsts.

It didn’t matter. What did matter was that your palms were getting clammy. That needed to be addressed - you wouldn’t want this girl thinking you were nervous. Would she even notice? Do girls offering this service care if you’re nervous? Unfortunately for you, the glass of water you just spilled while reaching for some tissues would probably be a dead giveaway.

“Fuck,” you whispered under your breath, quickly reaching for some more tissues to wipe the mess.

As if things couldn’t get worse, the sound of knuckles on wood filled the room. After wiping as much of the water as you could from the coffee table, you rushed over to the door. The ticking and tocking that was bothering you just a moment ago was inaudible now over the thump of your heart slamming into your chest.

“H-Hello,” you answered the door, hating yourself for stumbling over a single word.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Wonyoung,” the goddess of a woman introduced herself while holding out her hand. Her voice was dripping with this unexplainable air of quality. She smiled warmly at you as you shook her hand, so much more beautiful in person. The pictures absolutely did not do her justice. “May I come in?”

“Oh right, of course, yeah, come in!” you stammered, stepping aside for her after you realized that handshake went on for far too long to be considered socially acceptable.

The two of you walked over to the couch where Wonyoung took off her coat and placed it next to her purse on the side. You sat down next to her, unable to stop staring at her beautiful body - every inch of her was perfect. Then, as she stared at you with an expectant smile, you realized you never even introduced yourself.

“I’m so sorry, I completely forgot, I’m-”

“Relax,” she hushed you with that same voice of allurement. The beautiful girl leaned forward, giving you a peek down her top which you absolutely could not avoid, and picked up the glass you spilled earlier off the floor. “It’s completely natural to be nervous, is it your first time using a service like this?”

“It is,” you answered after taking a deep breath. “Sorry.”

“No more apologizing,” she whispered, moving closer to you on the couch. “I’m here for you, to make you feel good, to fulfill your desires.”

She was good at this. In just moments she calmed you down significantly. However, just as your heartbeat began to ease, it spiked again at her next words.

“You’re allowed to touch them if you’d like.”

Was your staring that obvious? Before you could think about it, the answer shot through you as her hand grabbed yours gently and guided it towards her chest. You gave her an instinctual little squeeze, relishing in the softness of her chest.

“We can go as fast or as slow as you want,” she continued while unbuttoning her top, letting her cleavage peek out just slightly. “You get to decide,” she added, putting one hand on your thigh and gently rubbing up and down.

The invitation to take her top off was right there for the taking, but you didn’t have the courage - not yet at least.

“Do you want to talk about what you want to do?” she asked innocently. “Tell me what does it for you, we can do anything.”

“I…” you hesitated again.

She simply giggled before sticking her chest out, nonverbally begging for you to open her top. Finally, you found the conviction to reach forward with both hands, freeing her tits from the fabric. The act alone awoke something in you - a clear reminder that this girl was here for you to do anything you wanted.

“There we go,” she whispered as both your hands began squeezing her chest. “Can I touch you?”

A nod was all you could muster as you fixated on her tits, and that was all she needed. Within seconds she had unbuttoned your pants and freed your already stiff shaft.

“So, want to tell me what you’re going to do to me tonight?” she asked again as her hand gently stroked your cock, lacking the innocent tone from before.

“I want to… cum on your tits… and in your mouth…” you answered breathily, overwhelmed by how soft her hand was. “I want to fuck you, I want to hear you moan.”

“There we go,” she smiled warmly, picking up the pace of her hand. “Keep going, where are you fucking me, tell me how you’re fucking me.”

“Anywhere,” you gasped as she sped up again. “I’m going to fuck you hard, right before I cum on that pretty face.”

“Is that what you want? You want to cover my pretty face?” she moaned, leaning even closer to you.

“I want to kiss your pretty face.”

“What’s stopping you?” she whispered, holding her lips out right in front of your mouth, stroking you as hard and fast as she physically could.

Your mind was going hazy as your cock was burning in warm sensation. Without hesitation you pushed your lips against hers, closing your eyes and letting your other senses take over. You kissed her tenderly for only a few seconds before gasping and leaning back as you felt your cock ready to explode.

“Fuck,” you gasped as your cock abruptly began shooting ropes onto Wonyoung’s slender fingers.

She slowed down the stroking, smiling brighter than ever proud that she made you bust so quickly. “It’s going to be a very long night,” she giggled, squeezing the last few drops of cum out of your shaft.

-----[ Le Sserafim Chaewon - @gangplanksorenji ]----

“Why were you even here?”

The silence was loud, ringing in your ear as her black orbs darted towards you, demanding an answer. You know eliciting something that can fulfill her is utter stupidity, because it was clearly something that shouldn’t end like that—

“Because I did so—and you’re still keeping that scar, huh?” And so you answer.

She grits her teeth as her eyes fire with annoyance, visibly frustrated with what you said on the latter, then clearly becoming apathetic towards you. “I hope to god you would never do this again—”

Catching her off-guard, you grab her right wrist, pulling her petite figure towards you without a sweat, making her lock her eyes and steam her anger out and you smile mischievously. “I don’t appreciate your tone, Ms. Kim Chae-won.”

You clearly don’t, and this isn’t part of a deal you knew with her. She knows it herself yet she chose to be a selfish hypocrite—well, in your own, observatory words. 

“And I don’t appreciate—”

You grip her wrists tighter, making her wince in a hint of pain, further igniting that fire in her. “Try me.”

You stare straight to her soul, and she couldn’t afford to do the same for god knows why as her eyes darted towards your body. Her antics bore you, but you like the fact that it’s something that fulfills your own wants, writing up the history books. “Fucking want me?”

You’re smug and hubristic, knowing that if she lied to you, she’d just be eating up the words and shattering her ego. She hates your current demeanor but she can’t lie, and she wouldn’t dare to as your hotness permeates the air between the both of you. “I wouldn’t deny it, honestly…”

Maybe this was a little too fast, but there’s no time to waste as spun her, her back flat against the concrete wall and eyeing every inch of her body. “You never fail to impress me, Chaewon.”

“Of course I always do, now…” She has her eyes on the prize, within her hands reach as she pulls your denim jacket, dangerously close to her. “You gotta give me what I want—”

Well, not anything goes on her way and you’re tired of it, and at this moment, it just fits so well that she’s not the one in authority. Your hands stop her as she advances towards your lower abdomen, knowing that this is out of bounds on what she should have been. “I’m sorry but this is out of what you’re capable to—” You pinned her harder against the wall, smelling her floral scent and latching your lips onto the scrumptious, porcelain skin of her neck, the muttered, “—I’m the one does the talking—you obey.”

Like casting a spell on her, Chaewon’s iron walls collapse, giving in as she moans almost inaudibly, hitching a breath and fighting the urge of gratification she’s feeling. “You don’t need to suppress it, Chaewon—I know you wanted them since the last time we met—”

“God, don’t you ever s-shut—oh—up? But fuck—” Even her own hubristic self shatters periodically, as she gives in with her desperations and frustrations of being deprived for who know how long. “—y-your lips, they’re good.”

As she finds satisfaction with your actions, is your answer to further tease and deprive her since you’re under control. You didn’t care if she’s even enjoying it because as selfish as this sounds, you’ll make it stay that way because you paint your own series of events—she knows every action is within your accord, and as much as she hates it, she wouldn’t dare and complain. “Of course they always do, but now...” You pull away your lips from the porcelain skin of her neck and collarbones as you stare at her intimidatingly, letting your demeanor puzzle her and the commanding prowess be the one to start the long-anticipated show.

“You better get that thing inside me later.”

“You’re ambitious, Chaewon.” With her petite frame, it wasn’t a challenge to grab her and pull her towards you, then, your lips muttered against her ear, “On your knees first.”

After you finish the sentence, you can just see her smirk, confidence evident within her as she scoffs, knowing how you’re in the scope of her field of expertise. “You’re daring, huh? You’ll get lost to the point you’ll think it’s my tight cunt.”

You squint your eyes ephemerally, hesitant with her words since you reflect your beliefs on such a famous saying. “We’ll see what those slutty lips have to offer.”

If it means to test her limits, then so be it…

------------[ ALICE Sohee - @sparklingblu ]-------------

The night is silent except for the steady click click resonating around the room as your finger travels from one key to another.  

Your eyes sting from being exposed to the bright screen of the laptop for two hours straight. Somewhere far away, a clock tower chimes. It's already 1 am. 

You misclick a key and bite back another curse to your boss. For Christ's sake, it's Christmas eve and you are stuck in your hotel room with a report that must be finished by morning. You chug down the third cup of coffee, throwing your head back. Even with your eyes closed, there's no rest. Colorful spots dance across your vision from the long exposure to the laptop screen. You are starting to doze off when a loud knock interrupts your peaceful slumber. 

Who could it be at this time of the night? You don’t remember ordering any room service. Maybe you are starting to hear things because of your deprivation of sleep. You are going to leave it at that and go back to your drowsy sleep when the sound appears once more, this time louder. 

Grunting, you walk to the door groggily and swing it open, not even bothering to check the peephole. If this is a robbery, you can’t care less. Even better if they take the laptop so you can make up an excuse and get some well-deserved rest. It’s not a robbery, unfortunately. Or is it? 

On the other side of the door stands the woman of your dreams and you mean it quite literally. Sohee, your obsession, gives you a sly smile as if she knows how crazy you are about her. It doesn’t matter because the boner that’s slowly growing in your pants after seeing her perfect figure in that black one piece dress has already given you away. 

“Can I come in?” She doesn’t need to ask, you have already move aside to make room. 

You close the door and turn, only to get your eyes blessed with the view of Sohee’s fat ass that millions of people fantasize about going to town on. If her clothed ass already gets your blood rushing you wonder what will happen if you see it bare. 

Sohee meets your gaze, shifting her body to turns towards you. “The money first”  

You have no idea what she’s talking about but in the presence of Sohee, your own will crumbles and before you know it, you are handing her every cash in your wallet. Sohee sets the money on the bedside table before closing the distance between two of you. 

Her fingers move to your underside, unbuttoning your jeans until it’s pulled down all the way and you are standing in your boxer. She kneels, taking a moment to admire your bulge before pulling the piece of fabric down. Your rock hard cock springs up instantly and she wraps her slender fingers around the base, giving it a single pump. That simple movement already have you yearning for more and Sohee obliges by wrapping her soft lips around your tip while keeping both of her hands busy by stroking the unattended parts. Her tongue flicks over your leaking slit and you let out a moan, then another, then a couple more. Sohee continues her masterclass, her head bobbing in harmony with each stroke of her hands and each movement extracts a thought that’s not about her lips, her tongue or her fingers. Sohee speeds up her movement, now twisting her fingers each time the warmth of her oral hole engulfs your shaft. The whole act is messy, sloppy and most importantly, addictive. If she goes a minute more, you are going to blow your load down her throat and you quickly order her to stop before you can enjoy the main course. 

Sohee releases your shaft, now glistening with her saliva, and wipes her mouth. “Need something else?” she asks. 

“I need to see that fat ass of yours” you demand and Sohee lips curve into a smile. 

“Of course, dear. Anything you want” 

Sohee gets on the bed on all fours, wriggling her ass. “Don’t keep a lady waiting” 

And you don’t plan to because you are already pulling up the black fabric covering your way to nirvana desperately. The dress knots into a tangle around her waist and you spank each of her now exposed cheeks. Sohee lets out a yelp which soon turns into a moan. 

 “Gonna pound that phat ass of yours Sohee. Gonna breed you” You mutter like a madman before you thrust into her glistening folds. Surprisingly, the entrance is smooth and your whole length glides in easily. “Fuck” Sohee curses and you take it at a signal to start bucking your hips. There’s no need to start out slow, she’s already so wet that the rapid thrusts come out naturally. 

“Fuck fuck just like that. Pound my huge ass” Sohee begs and you smack those baby making hips of hers some more, marking it red. Her ass jiggles with each thrust; a view panoramic than any you have seen before. Her walls clench and squeezes, threatening to milk you dry and you are barely holding on the will not to end the experience early. But it’s getting increasingly difficult with how tight she’s getting each time you enter, gripping you like a snare until- 

“Fuck” You are emptying your balls into her deepest depths, the tightness still unyielding. Sohee’s back curves gracefully as she feels your fertile seed paint her walls white. You empty your last few drops with shallow thrust and pulls out of Sohee’s worn out pussy. A steady stream of white drips down to the bedsheets and Sohee pants, her body trembling. 

But you are not done yet, you are advancing to make use of her unused hole when- 

The whole world turns upside down and an empty glass, a half-finished report and the rays of sunlight greet your sight. 

“Oh shit” 

-----------[ Everglow E:U - @smuttysabina ]-------------

It wasn't about the money, really, it wasn't. EU was not serving as a cheap whore in a deserted playground for some noble goal of funding a comeback, or because her greed was greater than her morals; no, EU was spreading her legs for a few thousand won because she was an unrepentant pervert. Nothing aroused her more than have her nubile body used to satisfy the depraved lusts of whichever degenerate so happened to be walking by, there was little she would refuse to do. EU was as perfectly happy cleaning her filthy ass-juices off some preening socialite's cock, as she was getting squished by some fat slob as he pumps her pussy full of his goopy seed; so long as she was getting fucked, she didn't care. She had tried simply being free-use, but unless she ensconced herself in a gloryhole, men were too wary to accept free sex from a beautiful girl like her; even if they had no idea she was an idol. So now EU plays the pampered girl desperate for money, getting bent over in back alleys by the dregs of society, her petite body violated in every way imaginable until dawn, her well-trained holes defiled with rancid semen. On more than a few occasions her sordid gangbangs have lasted days, as she happily services every smelly cock in the area until all of them have been utterly drained by this perverse pixie. And the best part was, none of them knew that in a few hours she would be prancing on stage in front of thousands of adoring fans, her holes still clogged with turgid jizz; well, perhaps not none of her "clients"...

Like any man, your brain was hardwired to breed any available woman, so when you heard rumors of a gorgeous girl offering sex for a pittance in the old abandoned playground, you had hurried on over without delay. And it was a good thing that you had, since there was already quite the line by the time you arrived, with seemingly every gormless virgin and portly husband on the block gathered for this. With such a crowd, it took some time before your destination was revealed, and imagine your shock when you realized that the cheap escort you had come to fuck was none other than your beloved EU! She was your favorite, you had spend endless hours watching her fancams, she had disturbed your dreams for years now, and you had spent yourself for her more often than you could count. So to see EU now being spitroasted by sweaty men was nearly enough to make you pass out; you had imagined sex with her in many different ways, but never like this... You are forced to watch then, as your favorite idol is manhandled and used like a disposable fleshlight, your heart sinking further as every fresh degenerate takes their turn and mounts her tiny body. Depression grips as you trudge forward, watching EU getting every hole filled at the same time, watching her gorging upon buttery semen, watching her take the greasiest fat cocks and the tinniest members without distinction, watching her exclusive pussy getting polluted by inferior seed.

Tears are falling down your face by the time you reach EU, filled with despair from seeing your adorable bias being merrily violated by dirty scum; you had never been harder in your entire life. The idol notices that you recognize her, and can tell from your appearance what toxic stew of emotions must be roiling inside of your chest. With a serene smile EU undoes your pants, allowing your staggering erection to grace the air, before a nasty grin slashes across her cherub-like face; and she spreads her stained legs in welcome for you. Gazing upon her used pussy and soggy anus, you realize that you no longer cared that your favorite idol was a depraved pervert, because you had realized, you were one too. EU groans with delight as you join her in the filth from her previous couplings, as you fulfill your wildest dreams and fuck your perverse bias until your balls have been emptied.

EU relishes every moment of your corruption, after all, she wasn't doing this for the money, she was doing it to turn her fans into degenerate perverts to slake her own depraved lusts. And if she so happens to spend her hard-earned cash on a burger during the subway ride home, why, that was merely a happy coincidence...

-------[ BLACKPINK Rose - @passingnotions ]---------

“So these would be the terms and the amount of money and all that—” 

A message bubble appears next to her camera feed. Rosé resumes packing.

“This is triple my rate,” you state, unbelieving.

“Your profile reads exclusive.” Rosé approaches her phone again and takes up most of your screen. A lollipop rounds her cheek. “I’d like to ensure that.” 

“The regular amount is fine.” You scroll. It’s terms that read everything privacy and non-disclosure—the usual, though the wording seems overly eloquent. “You get a lawyer to draft this?”

“Duh.” She slides the bright red sweet over her tongue while gauging your reaction to the document. The thought of her needing to pay you for all this seems a little superfluous when the camera’s aimed at the back of her throat like that. “Your higher-ups do the same.”

“Right, but that’s a company.” You reach the very end, save a copy to sign and send back. “This is freelance.”

“I’m worth more than your company. Got more to lose.” She gets back to tackling her closet.

So, sure, Rosé as your independent, temporary employer and client: no corporate middleman; triple the usual; a week’s worth of your face between her legs—plus a finger or three—and making her ride the mattress springs with your cock pistoning inside her wet, sloppy cunt, ankles dangerously hooked up and over your shoulders where the angle feels like it might kill you both and then some, all before having that familiar throat wring you dry in some abroad, high-end hotel suite. Any other client and you wouldn’t even entertain the idea (read: glaring red flags). Rosé, however, is a regular—

“Hold on. What does it mean I can’t leave the room?”

Her voice is barely audible from where she stands off-screen. “You know how many people will surround the hotel just to get a picture of me or any other celebrity? Staff like their gossip and their coin. No, you can’t leave the room.”

You laugh. “I’m getting paid to get kidnapped.”

“Could tie you up, too.”

Virtual ink scribbles your signature on the dotted line and you mail back the file. “You only get the wrists.”

“I know,” she says, tossing a cluster of outfits into the carry-on. 

You hear the brittle lollipop crunch when Rosé approaches the camera again—pretty navel framed by a blue baby tee above, gray sweatpants below. There’s an abrupt shake to the image as she grabs the phone and throws herself onto her queen-size. Subtle waves of blonde fan over the pillow, the mess of clothes. She bites that last bit of candy and discards the stick on her nightstand. 

“You get the email?” You ask.

“Yeah.” A lull. You would’ve ended the call a minute or two earlier, after getting the details in order, but Rosé is not someone you hang up on. And that’s not simply due to contractual obligations. “Any client I should be getting jealous of tonight?”

“It’s against company policy for me to tell you this, but you might be getting too attached.”

“No therapy addons for tonight, please.”

“Just the extra time?” You smile.

She sits up to rest against the headboard. “So you aren’t seeing anyone tonight then.” 

“I do have to get up earlier than usual tomorrow—”

Your phone vibrates and an hour’s worth of pay displays on the banner. It’s superfluous, really, with the way that tight top begins to peel off her figure.

“Just the extra time.”

----------[ ITZY Chaeryeong - @chunksworld]----------

“My name is Serena and you will follow my rules tonight, do I make myself clear?”

It’s wrong. Everything about it is wrong. You have a loving girlfriend that you go home to every night and you wouldn’t want to have it any other way. You just had an argument with her, that is all—something about how you don’t take her out on dates anymore and that even worse, you don’t love her anymore. You vehemently denied her allegations, so why in the world did you decide to take up your friend’s offer to hire an escort? 

Maybe she is right, maybe you are starting to lose feelings for her. Well it does not matter because you already clearly knew the answer when you specifically requested that the escort make you “forget everything” for tonight. I mean, what faithful boyfriend would do that? And why are you worrying about those things now?

You’ve already wasted a paycheck booking this woman for the night, much more so when she requested that you conduct your business in a five-star hotel. Sure, you might have to survive on bland packets of ramen in the meantime but that’s how you survived college anyways. The only thing occupying your mind is how good everything feels when you are deprived of your eyesight. 

It’s true what they say about your other senses heightening because you can feel her hot breath lingering on your neck, her perky tits pressing down on your toned chest as she torturously rides you at a snail’s pace, and her thighs grinding against yours with every movement of her hips. “Shit, Serena. C-Can you go a bit faster?”

The stinging pain of a hand striking your face is the response you got. Right. It’s her rules that you need to follow. Maybe you shouldn’t have given her as much freedom, it’s you that’s paying her bills after all. But that point is moot when she has somehow sunk herself deeper onto your cock and you are gripping the satin sheets with how tight she is, as if she doesn’t do this for a living. 

You fight the urge not to thrust up into her, to just hold on to her waist and go balls deep. You haven’t had sex with your girlfriend in weeks because of how busy you two are and you could use an orgasm or two to let everything loose. But everything about her pussy is inviting and it’s only thirty minutes and you can already feel your cock throbbing. 

She senses this as well because her lips have now moved down to your shoulders and she’s leaving kisses there while a hand reaches down to your balls to fondle it. It’s really becoming hard to breathe, with how her entire body is completely pressed up against you and with how suffocating her pussy is. “Cum for me.” And you do. You are surprised to hear her speak again and the timbre in her voice and the overwhelming sensation of everything causes you to shoot your semen deep inside her. 

She doesn’t stop riding you even as you are barely coming down from your high. Seconds turn into minutes and everything becomes a blur. Round after round of Serena riding you to completion, making you shoot more cum even if there wasn’t any more space left in her womb. Even when you can feel your load dripping back down your cock and balls, she continues to ride you and not at a single point did you even consider what your girlfriend would say if she caught you. Everything is a fucking mess, including your life.

There is a brief moment of solace when she mercifully removes the blindfold, finally. It takes you a couple of minutes to get used to the bright lighting and the first thing that greets you is the perfectly sculpted body of Serena, and the big mess you two have left on the satin sheets with your cum and her juices. Your eyes travel upward, studying every feature of the woman that has drained you and the way her pale white skin glisten with her sweat. 

From her defined abs, to her tiny breasts you wish you have gotten a taste of, her broad shoulders, and finally you get a glimpse of her face. Wait, why does she look familiar? That smile that can light up a room, the way her eyes and nose crinkle as such, the way she brushes her hair back and—why the fuck is she winking at you? She looks a mighty lot like your girlfriend and you think you’re hallucinating. It might have taken a few seconds but everything hits you at once and panic immediately strikes down on you like lightning.

Fuck. That’s your girlfriend’s sister.

“Chaery—“

She places a kiss on your lips to keep your mouth shut and the sudden revelation horrifies and turns you on at the same time. You need to make a decision and you need to make it quick because otherwise your cock is doing it already for you with how quickly her cum-filled pussy rides you back to full erection, with your creampie overflowing between the gaps where your bodies meet. It is hard to formulate a thought when her tongue is sticking deeper down your throat. Screw everything. You wrap your arms around her waist possessively when you sit up to meet her at eye level, deepening the kiss to turn it into a proper makeout session. “Chaeyeon unnie doesn’t have to know, oppa.” Damn right, she doesn’t. You dive in to kiss her again, the risk and debauchery making you want to savor everything even more. 

“Plus, we have six hours left and there’s two more holes you still need to fill. You gotta get your money’s worth, right?”

Damn right, you do.

----------[ BINI Aiah - @octoberautumnbox ]------------

It came easier than most with him, she could even say it came easy, period. His gaze was always soft, his touch always gentle, his tone always sweet when it came to her. Of course, she only knew the him that texts her every first Friday at 5:30 p.m. asking if she's busy that night. And she never is, or always is, because first Friday nights are blocked off by default for her favorite patron. 

It was a broken record that she never tired of: she dresses pretty, he picks her up, they get dinner and drinks, and he takes her back to his place. He and Aiah are so used to it at this point that he keeps telling her to stop dressing too nice but she just can't help it, she has to look good for him!

~~~

It's the most predictable thing in the world, hopping into his car and letting him rub her inner thigh as he drives. It's absolutely no surprise when he orders the steak for himself and the large poutine for the both of them to share. It's the normalest occurrence when the violin guy hovers over their table with a heart-wrenchingly beautiful melody as he admires her eyes over the candlelight. And it sure as hell isn't anything special when she offers his left arm to cling to as they walk back to his car, so much so that the wine he holds with his right arm makes its way to Aiah's instead. 

“Nice, 2020?” She looks over the label, finding a pinot noir brand she couldn't recognize. “Get me drunk, pass time with me, throw me away when you’re done. I know your type exactly,” she teases.

“When did I throw you away? I feed you good food, nothing but love in my bed, I get you home safe every week,” he retorts with a chuckle, counting each one on his fingers. He opens the door for her, and she plants a sweet peck on his lips before settling elegantly back into the car.

~~~

It's all the same game to her, yet she can't deny it's exhilarating every time. Her grip is tight around his back and shoulders, her pedicured nails digging into his skin as he parts her pussy lips apart for him. She moans sweetly, “Fuck, more, please…” as he diligently fulfills each of her prior requests. He does everything she asks of him: in front of the mirror, against the wall, in the bathtub, but Aiah's favorite and the one that absolutely has to end each night, bareback missionary on his fluffy bed while she holds him close to kiss, to hug, to whisper her sweet nothings into his ear. 

“You’re so fucking good, Aiah, I’ll never get tired of you,” he says back, and he kisses her neck gently, driving her wild. 

It's all the same game to her, and it's so easy to predict: the neck kisses come when he's close. She feels him throbbing inside her as he pounds her into the mattress, he's going faster, deeper, and she fires a prayer up to whom it may concern that he goes rougher and rougher still, until–

“Fuck, fuck, FUUUUCKKKKK!!!” she screams loud, giving herself up in service to his pleasure. He erupts in between her velvet walls, shooting his thick and warm seed into her womb, all the while her pussy milks him for everything he's got. He shuts her up with his lips on hers, and Aiah can't help but return his love; she takes his head in her hands, locking him in her embrace. 

And once it's all over, he falls to her side to let her breathe. An arm underneath her head, a cursory “good night,” and all the warmth of the world in him are all it takes to rob her of her consciousness. As the world fades around her, he pulls her close to his chest, and the last thing she remembers, like always, is the aroma of his sweat evidencing his satisfaction with her services. 

~~~

Albeit a bit wobbly, she's able to make her way downstairs. Like clockwork, there he is, finishing up a congee and packing it safely for the car, and she makes her way to the sofa and rubs the sleep out her eyes. She wants to say something, but holds back. Her lips form the shape for the first word, but no air comes out. She repeats in her head again and again, “Can we stay a bit?” knowing the answer, so she never tries. Why go against the program? Why ruin such a good thing? 

~~~

She takes a careful bite of the hardboiled egg, and noticeably he slows down before the speed bump at the entrance to her subdivision. In no time at all they arrive outside her house, and Aiah sets her dirty dishes on the dashboard in front of her. 

“Take care,” she whispers, avoiding his eyes. The usual white envelope falls onto her lap, and it breaks her again. She hears his seatbelt unclasp and fly back taut, but without giving him a chance, she undoes her own seatbelt and pushes her door open, leaving him behind. She runs back to her privacy, swinging open the door and shutting it hard. Aiah holds her breath, before finally letting go when his engine roars to life and grows progressively quieter the farther away he gets. 

Finally, the tears fall. She buries her face in her hands and screams a world-ending scream, then composes herself while she wipes the liquid pain from her eyes. She opens the envelope: fifteen blue bills and a blister pack of her usual birth control. The sight rips her chest apart, and the envelope and its contents are thrown to scatter all over her foyer. Aiah crumples into a fetal position and tumbles to her side, hugging her knees and wallowing in the dread of missing him not even five minutes after they part for another month. 

-------------[ Kwon Eunbi - @rosiesmuts ]---------------

Water Bomb. The festival that revitalized Eunbi's career. Sure it meant getting on stage wearing a bikini top while pretending she couldn't feel everyone's eyes on her tits, but it was worth it for the chance to be seen and heard.

It shot up her fame, gaining her hundreds of thousands of followers and even fielded numerous phone calls and offers. In public, she said she rejected every single one of those guys, when in reality, Water Bomb increased her side gig to unforeseen heights.

In person, Eunbi's way shorter than she appears on TV, barely reaching up to your chest. But, you remind yourself that she's the real deal: her little bikini accentuates her thick curves like a lewd fashion statement; her tits are so round they push back against the thin fabric, and you could almost imagine her nipples pebbling just from you staring.

"There's only one rule..." Eunbi pushes you down on the couch and settles in-between your legs. You groan out when she kneads the tent in your pants with a smug smirk on her face. "...It never goes inside of me..." She frees your cock, wrapping a hand around it and pumping her hand from root to tip, rolling her thumb over the leaking head. "...Just between my tits."

Shit. That's a pretty massive rule for what amounts to your weekly salary. It sounds unfair, and it sort of is. But that's the kinda thing you have to expect when you're with an idol, a walking, talking brand.

Any kind of protest get lost on the tip of your tongue when Eunbi lowers a strap, freeing her breast to the open air, and fuck—her tit is bigger than you imagined, so thick and round and squeezable, topped off by the dark peak of her puffy areola and her stiff nub of a nipple.

"You can touch before I begin..." She grabs your hand and plants it atop her pillowy breast. You can't hold back. The fat fills your hand, overflowing in your palm when you squeeze. The firm yet supple skin is fucking heavenly. There's a halfway sound mixed of a giggle and a moan, and when you look up, Eunbi stares back at you with lust darkened eyes. "Excited aren't we? There's another one too, you know? Feel free to set it free yourself."

You brush the strap aside and Eunbi's top slips over her second breast and off her body, falling down to the floor along with your inhibitions.

For the low, low price of 40 hours of work, Eunbi isn't an unapproachable, untouchable, perfect entity on-screen. With her tits exposed, all natural and bouncing just slightly whenever she moves, there's something intimately real about the way she lets out breathy quiet moans as you massage her breasts in tandem, thumbs circling her pointed nubs.

"Careful... They're sensitive." Her chest juts towards you with every pass of your hand, and you're having the time of your life watching this behemoth of an idol turn into a whimpering wreck. Your gaze naturally strays from her chest to the subtle ripple of her belly and the sakura print triangle of her bikini bottoms.

Eunbi holds up a bottle of liquid and squirts out a decent amount, drooling down her tits and onto your cock. You hiss out, twitching up from the chill, and then moan out when Eunbi runs her dainty fingers over your length, spreading the viscous liquid all over until her palms grip onto your throbbing member.

"Shall we begin? I'm curious to see your expression..." She scooches closer, breasts jiggling against the inside of your thighs and her hands slipping off the sides of her chest, pushing her boobs together, around your pulsing dick.

Her plump flesh surrounds you on either side of your shaft, her breasts massaging your hardness. The lube makes it so hot and slippery, you can almost imagine it's her soft pussy instead. She interlocks her fingers and starts to bounce the soft pliable flesh up and down, the liquid squelching out.

"Ahh~ What a lusty expression..." Eunbi sees the look of euphoria written plain across your face. There's never been anything like the sheer softness, the overwhelming sensation of this world-renowned idol jerking you off with her heavenly tits.

As much as you want to close your eyes and fall in-tune with her movements, the sight of her breasts wrapped around you forces you to continue to stare.

Then something unexpected comes into play. Eunbi pauses her movement on a downward motion. You groan, missing the hot pleasure that just sent you to cloud 9. Until suddenly her cute little peaks out and gives the tip a lick.

'It never goes inside of me...'

The one and only rule re-enters your mind. Then the mischievous sparkle in her eyes leaves you with one conclusion.

"Technically licking it doesn't count... Right?~" Her tongue once again peeks out and wets your engorged, blushing head, the warm and wet, gentle touch shooting pleasure through you. It only lasts a moment until she starts sliding up and down your shaft once more, adding her cute licks as the icing on top.

This must be heaven. This must be what going to heaven is like—having the Eunbi jerking you off with her thick, soft tits and having her pink tongue pepper your cock with gentle kitten licks.

"Ah—!" she gives you a surprised little yelp when the pre-cum bubbles up from the slit of your dick, the salty liquid instantly greeted by the flat of her tongue.

'It never goes inside of me...'

That was the only preamble. The only thing forbidden by the deal. Her lips come dangerously close, puckering open and—

Eunbi is a fucking liar. She wraps her lips around the head and sucks, tongue swirling and lips pursed tight against your swollen cock. You grunt out a curse at the sudden change in temperature, hot and wet. In an instant, you lose yourself, cumming in spurts in her warm mouth, painting her tongue white.

"Mmmph!" She feigns shock and panic, closing her eyes tight and sucking on you in earnest. All the while she maintains her tits wrapped around the bottom of your shaft, squeezing up to catch the last remnants of your release.

With her lips still wrapped around the head, she swallows—you hear and feel the distinct gulp.

Eunbi pushes her bangs back as she finally pulls off your softening, limp shaft. Her hand wanders to her jaw, wiping away any leftover bit that spilled out her lips.

"Oops~ look like I broke my own rule..." she hums, playfulness and mock innocence threading together in her tone.

'It never goes inside of me...'

Bullshit.

---------[ (G)I-DLE Minnie - @svndaysaweek ]----------

Once in for all. You head to the bar you’re regular at. Everytime you tip a glass there, you experience a weird dream and when you wake up you’re in your bed, no memories of how you even made it there.

It’s happened several times already. To the point where you start to doubt if it really is a dream.

A charming bartender, nice drinks, and the addictive dream-like scenes you fragmentarily see like a deja-vu. 

There are different versions of it, but all follow the same sequence: sit down, empty a glass or two, a little chirpy chit chat with the bartender and the very next blink she’s riding you in a frantic manner.

What haunts you the most is that you lose old memories too. The damage is disturbing, since even at work you don’t remember major events that happened. You really should stop drinking, and you're aware of it more than anyone. 

You can’t explain, but you feel like you should just go there again. It’s an addiction, maybe. You know you should stop, but you don’t.

******

The door swings open with the little bells on it quirkily ringing. It’s a dim bar, with the calm noise of people talking and laughing with clinking sounds. Over the counter she’s wiping glasses, not in a tuxedo but in a white sleeveless shirt, long blonde hair over a shoulder and a pair of orbs in her eyes with the aura that a quartz gemstone would exude.

Hot, but not red-hot. Erotic, but not foul.

The very eyes in your dreams that you made roll back.

“Hi, long time! The usual?” Minnie’s grin blooms quickly as if she’s been waiting for you. Then she fixes it the next second, recognizing how unusual it is for a bartender to be as turgidly excited as her.

“I’d love to.” With a bite on her lip she turns around, takes a bottle of whiskey. Then enters a room in the back for a glass.

Your hand automatically takes your phone out of the pocket. You see a message from an unknown number saying ‘Hey we need to talk’, but before you can check Minnie returns with the glass and serves it to you.

“Are you shifting soon? Never seen you in that shirt before,” A sip, and another. “Ah, this? How do I look?”

Gorgeous!

Gorge-

Gor-

…

******

“Yeah, that’s it…” Minnie’s hands are planted on your chest while her hips are senselessly grinding on your cock. The pace skyrockets and her nails dig into you deeper and deeper.

But dangerously you don’t feel the pain. You can only feel how tight she’s squeezing your cock, how sweaty her thighs are, how hot her breath is and how good she’s fucking you.

“Fuck, it gets better everytime… How can I stop fucking you like this…” Her hands are now in her hair, arms open and messing her own hair a bit. 

She squeezes her own breasts before slightly choking you with both hands. You try to reach for her hands, which are cuffed to the bed. Minnie seems to enjoy the surprised look on your face, as her face descends to be just above yours with a pearly giggle.

“Bet Miyeon is all too vanilla to do this stuff to you in bed,” She whispers it right at your left ear before nibbling on it, making you flinch a bit.

“Miyeon? Who is-“

“Never mind, boy. I have only you and you—oh, god I’m close—have only me.” Minnie’s teeth leave a deep mark on your under lip. Her glance is now beyond enrapturing. It’s a poignant hypnosis with a tinge of coercion. 

Only when she cums and squirts on your cock with a rather lunatic moan is the bewitching scrutiny alleviated. The sound of heavy breaths and the tickle of her fingers stroking on your chest is all that you can sense.

And you’re sprawled on the bed, exhausted, with your consciousness fading out. “I have only you, Minnie” is what you lethargically repeat until all becomes dark.

******

You have no idea how you ended up on your bed. Again. The last place you remember you were at last night was the bar. 

Was it the whiskey after all? 

Before you could even get out of your bed a headache swirls inside your head.

I had intense sex with Minnie again in the dream again.

She mentioned someone.

I received a text from someone who wanted to talk with me.

What could all this mean?

All of a sudden, a loud knock on the door shakes you awake from your thoughts. 

“Who’s there?” You shout, and you hear a frustrated, urgent female voice.

“Honey, it’s me! Please open the door and let’s talk!” On the other side of the door there’s a woman standing. Anxious, upset and unfamiliar.

“Do I know you?” It’s a genuine question, because you don’t recognize her at all. “Honey, this is not funny. At all. Why the hell have you been ignoring all my-” The girl tries to grab your hand which you swiftly evade.

“Sorry, but what are you talking about?” 

You’re gazing at her eyes then you’re forced to shut your eyes because of a headache like being shot in the temple.

“Babe!” Down the hallway is Minnie. You are so confused by her calling you that, but it must’ve been the drink. Should’ve drunk less.

“Babe?! Excuse me, but do you know him? Honey, do you know her?” Miyeon looks shocked, terrified, even. “I do. Why are you asking me that? Who are you?”

Disbelief shades her face. “H-honey… What are you talking about? I’m your fiancé! I’m Miyeon, don't you remember?” At the same time there’s a victorious grin on Minnie’s face. 

You’re gazing at her eyes then you’re forced to shut your eyes because of a headache like being shot in the temple. Then all senses fuzz out.

******

“Don’t go too fast, Miyeon! It’s dangerous!” You’re on a bicycle following her, on a riverside road with cherry blossoms fluttering along the breeze. She briefly looks back at you, and the way her hair streams in the wind takes your breath. “You’re saying that because you can’t pass me!” She smiles playfully and speeds up ahead.

“What are you listening to?” She takes one of your earphones after sitting down next to you on the bench. “Just some classics. Autumn is a season of classics for me.” You turn your head in her direction and are stunned at how her look matches the color of the trees and sky ever so perfectly. She can only chuckle at your face.

“Oh my god, sweetheart, yes!” You’re down on one knee, putting a ring on her finger. She’s shedding tears with the happiest smile. “I love you, Miyeon.” You rise and hug her. Your hands are still shaking. Her shoulders shake from her crying.

“I love you too. I have only you. And you have only me.”

******

-------------[ WJSN Bona - @fiorituramara ]-------------

The elevator ride took forever, enough for you to think you were getting up to the heavens (maybe you were); or at least, enough for you to start focusing on the garish marbles inside of the booth finely sculpted with golden inscriptions of the hotel’s logo—you never were particularly interested in interior design especially the pompous branch of it. 

You wouldn’t say you were used to all of this—the high-end hotel with all its lush finishes, the highly competent personnel following you around for every little inconvenience, it was all a bit too much, even if it certainly wasn’t your first time in the midst of all this luxury. 

After all, your business model as a professional companion thrived on the lonesomeness of the wealthiest. Business women, successful lawyers, rich heiresses; all of them had similar needs and you were ready to profit on them by selling your version of love: an illusion.

But this time was different and you knew it, just by feeling. 

Kim Jiyeon wasn’t like any other customer you had before—she was an award-winning actress, a model and an idol. But Jiyeon wasn’t just wealthy, she was absolutely breathtaking, a rare beauty worthy of praise from fashion brands and magazines.

As soon as you walked through the suit’s door a sly smile welcomed you in the warmest way “I hope the reception didn’t make you wait for too long,”

You smiled back, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, miss Jiyeon”

Here she was across the room, sitting on a modish sofa, legs crossed dully waiting for your arrival. She wasn’t wearing anything particularly elaborate: an ashen tailleur leaning on a striped shirt, and a colorful skirt that did quite the poor job at covering her slender legs. A simple fit yet effective at emphasizing her striking beauty. 

“Have a seat, please. Get comfortable,” she said as you happily complied, joining her.

“Wine?”

You nodded thanking the steward as he tinged a chalice in red.

As you sipped on your drink Jiyeon handed you some documents from an agenda

“Formalities, you know” she downplayed it, of course “I just need your sign.”

You quickly scanned the papers in front of you, faking interest. Legal stuff, stamps, authorizations and permits. It was a detailed NDA warding your customer in every possible way, nothing unusual when dealing with well-known personalities, something you knew you would have need to sign.

“I just have one question, a little curiosity of mine” you said, as the pen in your hands swiftly traced the initials of your name sealing the contract. “Why? Why would someone like you even look for my services?”

A sly smile painted on Jiyeon’s face, as if she knew you would’ve asked something similar.

She took your hand in hers, it was warm and soft, and guided it towards her thigh.

“The easy answer would be that I lack the material time,” you listened carefully to every word of her speech as your hand wandered forward, daringly massaging her smooth skin “just getting to know someone is a serious commitment,” 

“I can’t afford to waste occasions with the wrong person with the little time I have for myself,” she continued. Were you moving a little too fast? Maybe. Ten minutes since you met her and you were already with a hand on her thighs and she looked like she didn't mind.

“But if i’m being honest, there’s more to it” as she said that her hand moved to the top of your shirt, slowly undoing a couple buttons, “I’m tired, tired of being what people want me to be, I’m tired of pretending I’m perfect when I’m not. I wanna be flawed.” you dared even more, your fingers traced a ticklish spot on her inner thigh eliciting a whimper. Her hand grabbed your wrist, stopping you in place.

 “I wanna be me.” She looked right into your eyes as she said that, more serious than ever.

Then she got up, right in front of you, raised her legs to discard her boots before climbing directly on top of you.

You let her go on with her act, too stunned to speak up, as she continued with her answer. “Why you, you say? I need professionalism, I need discretion,” 

She pulled on the collar of your shirt and whispered in your ear “but more than everything, I need a good fuck, and I need it now.”

The hot breath on your skin elicited a shiver in your back. “Does this satisfy your little curiosity?”

There wasn’t really a need to answer that.

 You seized her cheeks, leaned in and locked lips. You were dreaming about kissing those pretty full lips the moment you entered the room and now it felt heavenly. You could taste the sweetness on her tongue, as she explored your mouth and you explored hers, a hint of wine still lingering around intoxicating you even more.  Your hands instinctively moved to her back, helping her slipping her now impractical jacket to the floor in anticipation of something more.

Only the need for air was able to break the kiss.

“Dazzle me.” she whispered.

[meiieiri]

𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 | 00

"You know what hurts the most? I've lost our children too...but you...you're still alive...and I've already lost you."

synopsis: the chairman of the gojo group of companies, gojo satoru, is in need of an heir and quick. however, with a wife who is struggling to conceive and his subsequently crumbling marriage, he is forced to explore other options which now comes in the form of his wife's secretary.

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader

warnings: 18+ angst, smut, mentions of depression and miscarriage.

You and Satoru Gojo are cursed.

Your marriage began to fracture the day you learned you could never have children, each passing moment turning your marriage into a silent battleground of unspoken regrets and fading hopes. People would tell you that it’s probably just bad luck or wrong timing and that sooner or later, you and your other half would be blessed with your hearts’ desires. All you had to do was wait for the right moment, but no one told you that you’d be waiting forever.

“Your tie is crooked again.”

You step into the now empty groomsmen suite where your husband is peering at himself in the mirror. Just a few years ago, he played the role of the groom, anxiously waiting for the hour he’d be linked to you forever. Now, he’s a groomsman in someone else’s wedding and hopefully a happier marriage.

Satoru looks up at the mirror to see you standing there as if on ceremony, waiting for him to invite you in. Ironically, that pretty much sums up your entire marriage: your shared heartbreak has become a gaping chasm between the two of you. You and Satoru could only hope that his sister’s wedding wouldn’t end up like yours – as lonely and quiet as a solitary mountain lake.

“I got it. You should head down with the other bridesmaids.” Satoru unloops his tie, his heart stubbornly refusing yours.

A numbness coats your veins when he simply gives up, and unbuttons his white collar for a more laid-back look instead, of course he’d rather do that — do anything else — than accept help from you, than speak more than two sentences to you, than be anywhere near you. That’s just how things are now after running head first into a happily ever after that was never going to come. “Fine. I’ll see you downstairs then.”

“Sure,” Satoru says nonchalantly.

He half-expected you to linger by the door for another minute, but his heart caves in when he sees you’ve simply left. But what did he expect? The void that exists between the two of you had grown too vast, and the brighter days of your marriage had been swallowed by the abyss of unmet expectations, and endless heartbreak. And now, all that’s left of the chaos is two lovers who have now ventured into the realm of reluctant strangers driven apart by fate.

Satoru walks over to the now closed door, and somehow sensing that you were still on the other side, he presses a hand to the cold wooden material, as if to say, “I’m still here.”

He hears a soft sniffle, then the painful sound of your receding footsteps and Satoru is, for the first time in one thousand four hundred sixty one days of calling himself your husband, utterly alone.

“Time to go home,” Satoru says monotonously, his right hand buried in his pocket while his free one holds the now settled hospital bill. He looks at you blankly, almost as if he expected this. After all, when you showed him the positive pregnancy test fifteen weeks ago, unlike the preceding ones, Satoru didn’t bother to make it public.

“I-I’m so…” you trail off, your eyes brimming with tears. “...Sorry.”

“I know. You always are,” your husband curtly replies. He’s lost count of how many times you’ve been in this exact position: by your hospital bed with a medical abstract in his hand with the words “spontaneous miscarrriage” printed on it.

He was getting sick of it. It’s almost like a nightmare that never seems to end. This would have been your fifth child, and yet again, you and Satoru would never have the chance to hold them in your arms for even just a second until they’re brutally ripped away from you. He looks at you again and sighs when you don’t move a muscle, seemingly still in shock from the ordeal.

“If you’re not ready to go, I’ll just have our driver pick you up.”

“...Alright.”

“Okay.”

He turns to leave but then your broken voice cuts through the thick air of the hospital room. “Satoru…? You don’t blame me right?”

Satoru screws his eyes shut, that was the last question he wanted to answer. He couldn’t bring himself to tell you that he has never blamed you for miscarrying, that, in the four years since he married you and the four years he’s had to witness child after child slip through your fingers like it was never meant to be, he’s never felt a tinge of disappointment towards you.

He told you not to go to the dental mission today, since you were on strict bedrest with your placenta previa but you made all these bullshit reassurances that you weren't going to push yourself too hard. He wants to say that you should have been more careful, that you should have listened to him. Yet, even then, he also couldn’t bring himself to tell you, his poor wife, his hurting better half, all the resentment he’s been harboring, so, he does the only thing he can do.

He runs away, far away from you when you need him the most. You stifle a sob when he doesn’t even crane his head back to look at you like the act of doing so would make him sick. “Get some rest," he simply tells you, unaware that this would be the last real conversation you’d have for a while because the next two months would be weeks of gut-wrenching silence. "Today...must have been hard for you."

He was wrong, you think sullenly to yourself as he leaves you alone. Every day has already become unbearable for you, every breath has become debilitating. What right did you have to breathe when all your children, each one departing with a piece of your and Satoru’s hearts, had been denied that very right?

Looking back at it now, Sayuri’s wedding was just like yours. What else would you have expected considering that you helped with the preparations from the color scheme to the venue’s decorations? Sayuri valued your input, and with you, despite being the junior party, having gotten married first, surely, you must have known what you were talking about when it comes to weddings. Too bad you couldn’t say the same thing about knowing a thing or two about marriage.

As you watch the happy couple from the top table, you utter a silent prayer in your heart that Satoru’s sister will never have to face the trials you have faced.

Satoru stands up from his seat, guiding you to the top table with a hand on the small of your back to bid your farewells and final well wishes. “Sayuri, it’s getting late. Y/N and I should be heading back now.” A look of disappointment crosses Sayuri’s face but it is quickly overshadowed by understanding.

You watch with a small smile as your husband embraces his older sister, whispering something in her ear that causes her to land a jab on Satoru’s abdomen. Stepping forward, you kiss Sayuri’s cheek in a show of sisterly love. “Congratulations again, nee-san.”

“Thanks for helping out again, Y/N,” Sayuri says sweetly, utterly grateful to all the assistance you extended for her special day. “I’m hoping you’ll help me for my next event, right?”

You return her smile with a slight tilt of your head; the two of you have been friends long before Satoru came into the picture, what with her being your ever supportive senior in university. The trust that you forged with Sayuri is often a running joke in the Gojo family. It’s often said that you got your husband’s sister’s approval long before you even knew each other. And it was true. The way she has stood as an older sister figure for you even during your darkest days fighting your loneliest battles is something you will forever cherish.

Satoru casts a look at new brother-in-law who is busy mingling with his own family; he makes a face at his sister’s remark. “You’re already planning for a second wedding when you’ve only been married for six hours?” your husband playfully jokes about his sister’s very questionable comment.

Come to think of it, that’s the first time you’ve seen Satoru smile in a long while, and when he did, it had to be because he joked about the tricky business of remarriage. It pains you to think that he has smiled so seldomly that you’ve almost forgotten how he looks when he’s not in a constant state of silent detachment, oceans deep in his chemtrail of thoughts. You were glad you weren’t a mind reader, dreading hearing his thoughts aloud: his silent hatred of you, the final goodbye having already materialized and rehearsed millions of times in his mind.

But couldn’t he see that you were still trying? You desperately want to hold his hand in a silent oath: “I’m still here.” but you think better of it, fearing that you might just lose him altogether.

Then again, a ghost of a mirthless smile appears on your lips for a brief second, if there’s anything you were good at, it was losing people.

You are pulled out of your thoughts by Sayuri’s sarcastic laugh. “Ha-ha. If I’m lucky, this’ll be my only wedding.” She sticks her tongue out at Satoru who merely rolls his eyes in response. “Anyway, as I was saying,” she turns to you with a hesitant smile, mulling over if this was a good idea given your circumstances.

Just then, her husband cordially approaches the three of you. “Hey,” he greets his wife with an affectionate kiss. “I got you this,” he places a champagne flute in Sayuri’s hand. “Alcohol-free, I swear.”

Satoru’s face falls momentarily. How long has it been since he kissed his wife like that? No, how long has it been since you put up those unscalable walls around the fortress that is your heart, blocking him out at every corner? He glances your way in an attempt to search your face – for anything to reassure him that your marriage was still salvageable, for anything to let him know you and him were still worth saving – he isn’t even surprised when you instantly turn your gaze away from him.

Guess he got his answer.

“Did you tell them?” your new brother-in-law asks with the same trepidation in his tone as his wife’s.

You make the cardinal mistake of asking. “Tell us what?” you ask, puzzled.

The next few words hit you like a tidal wave. Your prayers of Sayuri never having to experience the anguish you felt have been answered, in place of your own unanswered prayers for yourself and Satoru.

“That…we’re expecting.”

You don’t even notice that you’ve already muttered out a brief: “O-oh. I’m…happy for you.” As you numbly offer Sayuri her congratulations, you think back to all the times you and Satoru have had to hear: “I’m so sorry for your loss”. It wasn’t fair how happiness almost always helplessly slips through your and Satoru’s fingers in the form of a silent heartbeat at twelve weeks, or a fertilized egg that never truly grows into an embryo.

If there really was such a thing as “hell” or “damnation”, then yours came in the form of an empty nursery, an empty stroller, unused onesies, unsung lullabies and unflipped bedtime story books.

Satoru handles the news with an agonizing grace, his voice gruff and raw with held back emotions. He clears his throat, repeating the congratulations. “How far along are you?” he asks his sister, his demeanor shrouded with a profound yearning for the same thing, if not for him, then for you because if anything, of all people, you deserve that kind of joy too. Maybe even more so than him. He was fine with just having his wife back, after all. The succession of the entire conglomerate would always come second to you.

Even if you didn’t know it. Even if you no longer cared to believe him.

“Eighteen weeks,” Sayuri answers quietly. “I-I was gonna ask if Y/N would be interested in helping out with the baby shower but, I’d understand if this feels like a bad idea–”

“--It’s okay,” you defensively cut off Sayuri, refusing to hear another word of pity, another syllable along the lines of: “I’m sorry.”. You’ve had enough of that. “I-I’d be happy to…really.”

With your unconvincing words, your quartet falls into a tense silence. You and Satoru don’t dare to stay long enough for either of them to try saving the conversation, so, with a polite and final few well-wishes, you leave. Just as the two of you settle into the backseat of his car for the return journey to Tokyo, tiny droplets of rain begin to collect on the windows.

“...Why can’t we be like that?” you break the overwrought silence with a genuine question, a slight tremble in your voice.

“We were like that too,” he replies almost nostalgically, recalling the many precious hushed conversations each night in your marital bed, the mornings when you and him gaze at the other’s sleeping form, thinking to yourselves how lucky you two were to have each other, the warmth that came with being so in love.

It was an age long abandoned.

Now, you two were silent, your conversations not extending past two brief sentences, your bed is now empty and cold, and your luck had run out the same way your love died out.

“Once.”

You spoke of your union as if it were a house of cards that’s been torn apart by the wind, the two of you are now all but decimated, to the point where one can only wistfully pine after what had been lost that can no longer be restored. And after the many arguments that had erupted between you and him, unbearably, this was the one thing you could never argue about.

Satoru nods, echoing your words with a heavy heart. “Yeah…once.”

The fact is: no one knows what happened or rather, no one — not even your OBGYN — could have expected this. It was a normal day, you and Satoru, as excited parents-to-be, had booked the appointment and all the succeeding ones leading to your supposed due date ahead of time, so, you arrived at your usual schedule of 3:30 PM, and after a quick check of your vitals, the OB moves to conduct the standard ultrasound.

As you move to lie down on the bed, it seems you’ve only just noticed the bag Satoru was carrying. You look at it curiously. “What’s that?” you ask, pointing to the moss green canvas bag on his lap.

“Your hospital bag,” Satoru says enthusiastically, already opening it. “See? I packed three pairs of socks for you, a sweater, your lip balm, hairbrush, lotion and — why are you laughing?” he asks when you snort with laughter. The OB is also shaking her head in amusement. Clearly, your oblivious husband kinda missed the memo.

“Babe,” you explain amidst your giggles. “I’m not having the baby today.”

“What do you mea—oh,” He awkwardly looks at the hospital bag. Satoru Gojo, the owner of the ever powerful Gojo conglomerate, the darling of Kabutocho and the Nikkei Index, a holder of a dual degree in finance and business analytics, further supplemented with an MBA from Wharton, looks flustered. He had forgotten that he’s only supposed to bring that during the delivery.

The OB chuckles as she lifts your shirt up to squeeze some of the ultrasound gel on the taut skin of your still mostly flat but slightly swollen belly. “Seems dad was a bit too excited,” she remarks. You shift at the cold gel, but relax after a while.

“Well, it’s our first, after all,” you glance at Satoru with a warm smile. He brings your hand to his lips and he sits down on the chair, his eyes altering between you and the monitor. You squeeze his hand as the probe glides over your midriff. The image shifts slightly on the screen and the OB zooms in on the small image of your baby.

She makes a note of the growth. “6.0 centimeters at 12 weeks,” the OB says, pleasantly surprised. “Now, would the two of you like to hear the baby’s heartbeat?”

You and Satoru share a brief look of happiness and nod simultaneously.

Instantly, images of what life would look like from now on flash in your minds: Satoru would constantly be chasing after the little tornado that would be your child, while you’d be too busy cleaning up after the mischievous duo. If it’s a girl — which is Satoru’s preference but he’ll never actually say that out loud — Satoru would be almost always willing to indulge them. Their little girl needs your lipstick to give her daddy a makeover? Say no more, he’s already rummaging through your makeup bag. Oh, she wants a tiara? He’s already on the phone with his ex-fling who also happens to be Swarovski’s top designer to commission a tiara piece for his little princess.

And honestly, the same can be said for you if the baby does turn out to be a boy. It would be a joy to have a little Satoru of your own. You’d shower them with kisses every morning, and every night before he went to sleep, never shying away from letting him know how much you love him.

Or at least that was the plan.

Call it a mother’s intuition but something doesn’t feel right. Worry pricks at your entire being when all you can hear is the drone-like hum of the examination room’s AC unit, the frequency adjustment of the ultrasound machine and the sound of your own hearts breaking at the sound of silence.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Gojo—”

“—What’s happening?” you ask frantically, your head abruptly lifting from the pillow in alarm to look at the screen. “What’s happening, ‘Toru? Why can’t I hear anything?” you look to Satoru for answers — no, perhaps you knew the answer all along — you simply looked at him, pleading with him to tell you that this wasn’t real, that you’ve probably just gone momentarily deaf or something, and that by some miracle, your baby was still there.

But as Satoru simply purses his lips, gently easing you back onto the bed, his eyes brimming with tears that were now falling in the crook of your neck, silently sobbing into your shoulder with you. You could faintly hear the OB amidst your sobs already paging the hospital pharmacy for a prescription of Mifepristone and Misoprostol to assist with emptying your womb. Not that it wasn’t already empty to begin with now that your baby is gone, and all they’ve left in their wake is a void in their parent’s hearts and a sense of confusion.

Why? Why did they just up and leave like that before you even got to hold them, to see their tiny face as they sleep in their hospital bassinet next to your bed? Did your baby somehow sense that you and Satoru would be horrible parents? Were you unworthy of their love, so unworthy that you’d never get to meet them?

“Shh, shh,” Satoru tries to soothe you in spite of his own turmoil, the thought of losing the baby too heavy on his mind to do anything other than attempt to comfort you. “I’m here…I’m right here.”

He was right. You both were still here but gazing back at the black and white image of your now sleeping angel, you’ll just have to learn to accept that they aren’t.

Satoru has been acting strange all day.

For one, he sent you a good morning text message wishing you luck with your patients today just as you were about to change into your scrubs when you arrived at your dental clinic in Tokyo Midtown, and just after receiving that message, your secretary, Kozue, happily enters your office with your takeaway coffee in one hand and a small gift box in the other.

“You know, Mr. Gojo would be a horrible secret admirer,” she remarks simply, placing the box above the patient records you were reviewing.

“Why is that?” you ask, finishing up on your 9:00 patient’s appointment sheet.

Kozue gestures to the Bvlgari logo on the small box. “He clearly has a thing for high-end jewelry brands, it’s either he sends you Bvlgari or Swarovski.” You breathe a small laugh at her keen observation.

“Looks like your observation skills are improving, pretty soon, I might just assign a patient to you,” you joke. “Anyway, it’s our fifth anniversary today, hence the gift-giving. I left him a new pair of Giorgo Armani loafers on the closet display this morning.”

“You two are so extra,” Kozue chortles. “My boyfriend and I don’t get to do all this.”

You nod sympathetically. “When’s he coming back again?” you ask as you carefully open the box to reveal a pair of Serpenti Seduttori diamond earrings with a blue sapphire on the head. Kozue watches you try them on with a soft smile on her face, it’s not often anyone gets to see you put your hair down.

“Around next year,” Kozue gushes. “But honestly, well, uh…don’t freak out, but—”

“—You plan to join him in Chicago once he gets his MBA,” you answer for her.

You’ve seen her often searching for apartments in the South Loop, indicating her future plans to leave the clinic and the country altogether for greener pastures overseas. You know that the long distance relationship has been hard for her, often using her breaks to speak with her boyfriend on the phone just as he’s about to turn in for the night.

It’s almost funny to think about: that Kozue and her lover, despite being forced into a long distance relationship due to their differing circumstances, were just about as close as literal soulmates get, while you and Satoru live together and yet you’re worlds away from each other.

But whatever, some people just get dealt a better hand.

“It’s alright. I really don’t mind if this would be our last year working together if it means you get to pursue your happiness elsewhere. The clinic is nothing compared to the world, after all.”

Kozue nods in thanks. This is just another one of the many things she admires you for. She knows that she isn’t as tenured as the rest of the dentists in the clinic, and honestly, she didn’t have a doctorate in dentistry either, but you still trusted her enough to be your secretary, and you never made her feel that she was in any way inferior to you or anyone else — it’s all just part of your caring nature even if you do have

“Now, you’re just making me wanna stay even more, boss,” Kozue pretends to wipe a tear from her eye, making you laugh.

Her loyalty is always something you’re grateful for and quite frankly, you couldn’t imagine the clinic functioning as well as it is without her. Sure, sometimes she’s annoyingly optimistic sometimes and just unbearably too happy in the mornings, but you had to hand it to her, in an office full of sleep-deprived dentists like yourselves, Kozue’s infectious enthusiasm is probably just as essential as good quality coffee beans. She always knows when to cheer everyone up, especially you.

“Well, that’s great, since you always know how to get me out of a tight spot,” you half-joke.

“Always!” she holds up her thumb in affirmation. The intercom suddenly pages her and she checks her watch. “Looks like our first patients are coming in, I’ll see you later. And happy anniversary to the two of you!”

The rest of the afternoon rolls by uneventfully and before you know it, Satoru is already picking you up from work like he always does except this time, he’s carrying a bouquet of pink camellias.

He removes his sunglasses just as he steps into the building and you stand there for a bit, a little starstruck.

It’s no secret that your husband is good-looking, but it feels like an eternity since you’ve actually properly regarded him. It’s like seeing him for the first time all over again: your heart thumps in your chest and a blush creeps onto your cheeks. How long has it been since you’ve felt this way? Since the two of you spent time with each other? Since you both made a courageous effort to mend the gap between you and him?

Satoru also stands there, relief washing over him when he notices you wearing the earrings he got you. “Hey,” he greets, striding over to you. The bouquet is placed into your waiting hands and you feel you’ve been swept off your feet when he leans down to press a soft yet somehow yearnful kiss on your forehead.

“Hi…” You shyly greet your husband like he’s some guy you met on a blind date. You then realize he’s wearing the Armani shoes you got him. “Do they fit well?”

What kind of a question is that? Satoru is a size twelve and a half, you should know your husband the same way he should know how his wife prefers pearls over sapphire.

Satoru forces a wry smile. The shoes do feel a little pinchy but you didn’t need to get the impression that he doesn’t appreciate your gift. “Yeah, they’re great.” He glances at the earrings with a soft smile. “You look beautiful.”

“Tell that to the patient who thought I was a mushroom when I gave them nitrous oxide earlier,” you chuckled. Satoru snorted in laughter at that. “Happy anniversary, ‘Toru,” you whispered.

“Happy anniversary, Y/N,” he pulls you into a tight hug, and your heart swells with an uneasy but welcome joy.

Your arms instinctively wrap around your husband’s form which Satoru responds to with an indiscernible sniffle. The walk to the car is quiet but not tense and maybe not peaceful either, years of emotional distancing are not easily forgotten after all. But — you look at your and Satoru’s interlocked hands, noting how for once, it felt like they fit a little more perfectly together right now more than ever — maybe it’s a start.

There’s a saying that goes: “There is no calamity greater than lavish desires. There is no greater guilt than discontentment. And there is no greater disaster than greed.” In a game of poker, it’s said the winner is the first to rise once he gets his betting sum back, and in chess, oftentimes it is the aggressive players that slaughter pawn after pawn who do not realize their own territory has already been infiltrated by their opponent.

With that being said, you shouldn’t have pushed it. You should have been content with the small yet meaningful progress you and Gojo made. After a night out at Tokyo’s Stellar Sky Garden Lounge, the two of you practically stumble back into the penthouse in an intense haze of lust, desire and a banal and reckless greed. In Satoru’s defense, with the way that you were responding to his touch, tilting your head back to expose the delicate flesh of your neck as he nips on the skin like a man possessed, he thought that, at the very least, you were ready to be intimate with him after what felt like an eternity of you choosing to sleep in the guest room rather than your marital bed.

“H-Hah–S-Satoru, mnhh…”

Satoru expertly wraps his lips around your nipple, suckling at it, his nose tickling your mound. His other hand catches your other tit, squeezing at the tender nub eliciting a languid moan from your lips. “Shhh,” he releases your nipple momentarily, his tongue flicking against the bud. “Let me take care of you, babe…”

His hand trails down to your core, collecting your slick, rubbing up and down your slit, plunging a finger inside. He bites his lip at your warmth, he could already feel your familiar and tight walls. And he wasn’t even inside you yet. The thought of being inside you again sends a shiver of excitement down his spine, and he pushes you onto the soft mattress.

It’s been two years since your last miscarriage, two whole years that you’ve denied him of sexual intimacy. And Satoru doesn’t blame you. Having to endure loss after loss, it was expected that you’d withdraw into yourself, closing everyone off as you healed. But can’t you see he was hurting too? That he has wept too? That he also has his own fair share of damp tear-stained pillows? That he has, on many occasions, locked himself in his C-suite office after having had to endure another sleepless night of your relentless sobs in the other room?

He looks into your hooded eyes, and he sees the future you two have lost: you carrying his baby in your arms, cooing to them as you bounce them gently in your arms – now, Satoru isn’t religious, but that image is his heaven. Burying his length into your cunt, he chokes, letting out a pleasured groan that mixes with your own breathless whine. Soon, the bedroom is filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin as he pounds into you at a desperate pace.

On your end, with every roll of his hips, tears prick your eyes.

This feels wrong.

No, this feels excruciating and terribly hollow. He’s never touched you like this. Sex with Satoru was always passionate, and loving. His hands would always intertwine with yours as he catches your lips in a searing kiss. He’s never like this. His captivating sapphire eyes held a loneliness to them.

As he’s bullying your cunt, you could feel yourself sinking into oblivion.

“Aah–” Satoru groans softly, his forehead pressed against your shoulder as looking at you was so painful for him right now. He doesn’t want to hate you, but he seems unable to love you all the same. What should he do? What can he do?

Suddenly, as he’s approaching his high, his hips melding into yours a little more forcefully and erratically, a dam of tears bursts wide open and you push back against him.

“Mm…’m getting close–ngh—gonna make you a mommy again, all round with my baby, you like that huh?” Satoru lifts your legs to his shoulders, thrusting into your weeping pussy, oblivious to the turmoil in your head. Two seconds ago, you wanted this. Now, you feel like you were gonna be sick at his ramblings of getting you pregnant again.

Fuck. You can’t do that anymore: getting pregnant and being led to believe that by some miracle, you’ll carry to term. Please just make it end.

“Satoru, d-don’t–ngh–p-please stop–”

“Shhh, ah…Y/N…gonna cum…gonna give you my baby—agh–”

He doesn’t seem to hear you. No, he pretends not to hear you outrightly rejecting him.

On your end, you felt like you were dying, with the overwhelming self-loathing in your heart, you couldn't even see Satoru’s desperate effort to restore the normal intimacy you two shared during the early parts of your marriage. But you didn’t care. Satoru didn’t deserve to make love to someone who’s already gone, to stick around for someone who can’t give him the happiness he deserves.

“Satoru, PLEASE STOP!”

“Fuck!” Satoru pulls out mid-thrust. Your heart clenches when he looks like he’s been slapped right across the face. He hastily finishes himself off and upon his release, he groans in frustration. He should have known you’d be this way. And fuck, he was angry at you. He was angry at himself for stupidly hoping that things were gonna get better. “You’re impossible!” he fumed, already pulling on his clothes, ready to abandon you.

“Satoru, wait! Where are you going?!” you pull the blanket to your chest, draping yourself as you follow him to the door.

“Anywhere! Anywhere but here!”

“You’ve never been here!” You accuse him without thinking and instant regret overruns you when Satoru lets out a scoff of disbelief. “Satoru, wait, I’m sorry!”

“Never?” Satoru’s jaw tenses. “What do you mean I wasn’t here?” He’s on the edge of losing it completely now. You had some nerve accusing him of that when he had to pick up the pieces — your pieces, the pieces of this shattered marriage. “Say it again, Y/N. Tell me exactly how I was never here.”

It was wrong of you to say that.

Painful memories begin flashing into your mind like a tragic montage: the uneaten and cold tray of food Satoru would leave outside the guest bedroom for you on the hardest and loneliest days of your life, the many instances he’s had to coax you to get out of bed by taking you to the places the two of you used to love, the countless nights he’s had to hold you, staying awake to hush you when you wake up sobbing from another nightmare.

“Satoru, no, I–I didn’t mean…that…”

He turns around to look you in the eyes, rage seeping through his usually calm ocean orbs. “You didn’t mean that? You sure sounded like you did!” He takes a step towards you, and you inch backwards, drawing your gaze to your feet in shame. “It’s fucking amazing how you don’t ‘mean to’ do anything! You didn’t mean to stand me up during our anniversary date last year too, the same way you didn’t mean to start sleeping in the guest bedroom every night–”

You flinch at the accusation dripping from his voice as he unloads all his heartache on you. “Stop…please stop–”

“And let me guess you didn’t mean to lose our children too!”

Your hand connects with his cheek and Satoru is stunned. Not at your slap. But at the vile words that just left his throat. He stares at you in shock, guilt written all over his face.

“Don’t you dare bring our children into this. You think this has been easy on me? Feeling a little life grow everyday in your womb only for them to just…be gone…one day when you wake up? You don’t know how difficult it is to lose a child!”

“And you don’t know how difficult it is to lose your wife!” Satoru retorts, his voice thick with exhaustion.

His eyes bear the scars of your shared heartbreak. He knows you’ve been struggling. Truly he does. And he wants nothing more than to take all your pain away from you, to spare you from the hell that you’ve been unfairly sentenced to. But why can’t you realize that you aren’t the only wounded party here?

“And you know what hurts the most?” His eyes gleamed with unshed tears, his voice cracking mid-sentence.

His gaze falls to the locket that held a small sonogram picture of your would have been fourth child which you wore everyday.

“I lost our children too. I grieved for them too. But you…you’re still alive but I’m already grieving for you like I've already lost you.”

Satoru doesn’t return to the bedroom again that night and the next morning, you both awake to a wedding portrait that now. sheltered a heartbroken wife’s teardrop stains, and a box full of baby items for disposal packed by a husband who has now, by all intents and purposes, given up.

Satoru slips out to the five star hotel's rooftop for some much needed air. Hopefully none of these pesky journalists saw him on his way here. But that probably just comes with the whole experience of celebrating the conglomerate's tenth anniversary. He finds you in the garden, seated on a bench next to a potted plant. Satoru approaches you quietly, sitting down next to you. "I thought I'd find you up here."

"Hmm? Yeah, it was starting to feel suffocating in there," you chuckled. "I think it was nice of you to choose the Tokyo Children's Hospital as this year's beneficiary," you nudge him lovingly. You were already excited for the upcoming courtesy visit and celebratory turnover of the 20 million yen donation from the Gojo clan's multinational conglomerate.

Satoru plants a loving kiss on your temple, pulling you close to his form, his head resting atop yours. It's been a year since you've gotten married and already, people were already getting antsy for a baby, but maybe none as anxious as your families who are more than excited to have a new little one running around their respective estates. "So, walk me through the event next week. What have you got planned?" he asks you candidly about your plans for the turnover.

"Well, I already contacted a catering company for the children's party, oh and of course, there'll be games and storytelling sessions," you share eagerly. "I even hired a magician and facepainter!"

Satoru hums at your plans. "Of course, it can't be a children's party without some facepainting action."

"You know facepainting isn't limited to children," you flash him an impish grin. Understanding the implication of your words, Satoru immediately shakes his head in adamant refusal. "Oh come on, as the Gojo Group of Companies's chairman, you have to lead by example, right?"

"They aren't my employees!" Satoru laughs. Before you could even pull your signature pout, he pecks your cheek. "But if that's what my wife wants, then, I'll have them paint my pretty white hair too."

You laugh along with him, sighing contentedly at this peaceful moment. "Hey, Satoru? Why don't we...make them a part of the permanent beneficiary list?" you suggest quietly. "I mean, we still have some room for them, right?"

Satoru contemplates the possibility of having the Tokyo Children's Hospital as a permanent beneficiary of the Gojo Group, yet, he agrees nonetheless. "You know what? I don't see why not, I'll be sure to talk to PR about it," he smiles softly. "We can even make it a tradition - having a fun get-together with the kids and their parents." Satoru's heart swells at the idea of one day bringing your own child along to these events, teaching them the importance of being altruistic and compassionate to others. You nod, seemingly sharing his thoughts. "Maybe someday, we can bring our own little one into the mix."

You nod against Satoru's warm embrace with a wistful smile dancing on your lips. "I'd like that. Logistically, it'd be faster for the two of us to distribute the goodie bags if we had an extra little pair of hands."

"It's a plan then," Satoru concurs joyfully.

——————

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[eddiethebrave]

secret admirer part twenty-two

759 words

one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen sixteen seventeen eighteen nineteen twenty twenty-one

Eddie do you ever think about what you’re gonna do after high school? like how am i expected to know what i want to do with my life? i mean, i have another year to think about it but not that much can change in a year you probably wanna do something with music, right? make it big with your band and have people screaming your songs i’d go to every show if i could be your own personal groupie who knows? maybe that’s my calling p.s. have a good time at hellfire tonight i hope you win !!!!! -H

You’d think the win last night would put him in high spirits, and it did. At first. He celebrated with the guys, passed on the get together someone suggested, and drove home feeling proud. It was when he was laying in bed, though, that he started thinking. When he graduates, how often will he be able to ride a high like that? From pure accomplishment?

Steve puts on a brave face for morning practice. He doesn’t wanna drag anyone down with him. He goes through the motions of accepting congratulations and pats on the back from his peers and teachers alike all morning long. 

It only makes him think, though. 

Seriously, what comes after this? More school? Does he accept that internship at his father’s soul sucking company? Does he get a gob and jump right into adulthood?

What it really comes down to is the fact that Steve had never thought he’d have a future. Honestly. He’s getting closer and closer everyday to the next stage in his life, though. The years snuck up on him and now he has to deal with it. 

On a lesser scale, Steve doesn’t like thinking about what life will be like once Eddie graduates this coming May. How is Steve meant to tolerate this hellhole without him? Sure, he’d gone years without really noticing him, but now that he knows what it’s like to have a taste of him in his life, he doesn’t think he could go back. 

The whole thing makes his pulse quicken and sweat begin to bead at his hairline. By the time he makes it to art class, there’s a tension forming at his temples and he’s not looking forward to the headache. He doesn’t think he has it in him to act like everything’s normal. 

For once, Carol doesn’t acknowledge his foul mood. She’s too busy staring at Robin. For the portrait, of course. 

The teacher had informed them today the class is basically a free period and they can choose what to work on or what to not work on. 

Steve sits slumped over the table with his head resting on his folded arms. He kind of wishes Eddie hadn’t put the divider up and also that he had his sunglasses so he could stare at him without feeling weird about it. 

Instead, he rests his eyes and tunes into the sounds of pencil on paper surrounding him. He dozes for a while and has nearly fallen asleep when he’s awoken with a poke to his cheek. 

Steve peels his eyes open, but no one seems to be wanting his attention. There is, however, a piece of paper placed next to his left arm. 

It’s a drawing. 

A stick figure with tall swoopy hair and eerily realistic eyes. 

Steve looks to his left, only to find the culprit still hard at work with his face tucked behind the divider. 

Steve visually fills in the blank and surmises Eddie’s smile probably matches his own. 

Steve doesn’t dare fold the paper. He tucks it into the notebook he has to keep it safe. Throughout the rest of the day, he opens the book just to look at it. When he takes it home, he tapes it to a wall in his bedroom, somewhere he can always see it. 

Eddie did i ever tell you how sweet it is that your club has matching tees? i haven’t seen anyone who doesn’t do sports or the school band have a uniform but it makes sense that other clubs would, too you look good in black, don’t get me wrong, but GOD i thought i was gonna die the first time i saw yours so thanks for that also, while we’re on the subject of how hot you are,  you should wear your hair up more often p.s. sorry about the existential crisis on friday i wasn’t doing too good but i got a pick-me-up eventually <3 -H

twenty-three

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[silly-thinkings]

Batmoms biggest "fan"

A small thing that I wrote and completed a long while ago. I decided to go back to school and I'm now getting the hang of everything. enjoy this story wherein- You (fem batmom reader) have a sort of fanclub. This fanclub however has the rest of the family on edge. and your sons do something about it :)

You frown as you took a bite of of your food. You were stood up… by your own husband of all people. At a nice restaurant that he chose.

For a mission that he won’t even tell you the details about. That of course didn’t stop you from indulging in the food and wine that you’ve eaten multiple times. The people around you looked at you with the occasional whispers in between. But you didn’t mind. In fact, with the way you were eating it might as well been a night for Y/N Wayne to be by herself.

The waiter approached the table with a sheepish smile “the bill Miss Wayne.”

You gave him a smile that make even those who despise you blush . You pull out your purse and place cash in the folder, followed by the Bruce’s black card. The server Looked at you confused.

“The black card is for the bill. The cash is your tip.” You say with a wink.

“F-five hundred dollars” he shook his head in disbelief “I can’t accept this.”

You tilt your head to the side “why not? Is it not enough?” You look at his name tag before your phone rang. “You’ve done an excellent job today Jared. Please, accept the tip.”

Jared slowly nodded his head as he return to the back. You check the caller ID and smile “hey hey bird. What’s up?”

On the other end was your second eldest Jason Todd. Slowly he’s been talking to you more as of late. Which brings you joy, the last thing you’d want is for any of your boys to cut you off of their life over Bruce’s actions. Lord knows how hard you try to have both your eldest socialize within the family.

“Nothing much. You free?”

You look around the restaurant “not necessarily. Decided to get some dinner.”

“Where B?”

“Out. He’s busy tonight.”

There was a pause on the other line “right…”

The waiter returned with the card and you signed the receipt . You grabbed your belongings and left the establishment. “So, when’s the next time I get to see you?”

Unbeknownst to you, the very son you were on the phone with stood atop the apartment across from the restaurant.

“I don’t know Ma. I’m on a very important case right now.” Jason said pressing a pair of binoculars watching you intently.

“Hmmm. Well don’t stay out for too long. Honestly, you and your father act the same way when you’re working in a case.”

Jason moved his binoculars slightly behind you. He noticed the waiter watching you from one of the restaurant windows whilst holding a pair of white gloves. Your gloves, you must’ve forgotten them.

“Uh huh. Text me when you get home. Stay safe Ma.”

You look down at your phone slightly shaking your head. You place the phone back into your purse before raises your had at the passing taxi’s.

~Meanwhile~

Jason continued to watch both you and the waiter. It was only after you getting into a taxi that he put all his focus on the man in the restaurant.

Jason heard some shuffling behind him causing him to roll his eyes “Ya know, if you just want a hug you can totally ask.” The man announced his presence with a preppy tone.

Jason grunted “go away Dickhead, I’m busy.”

“No, it looks like you’re stalking mom.” Dick crossed his arms “what are your doing Jay?”

“Working. What are YOU doing? Shouldn’t you be in bludhaven? Doing police work.” Jason quipped as he watched the waiter put Y/N’s gloves in his pockets before returning to work.

“I’m… also working right now.”

Jason finally turned to face his older brother “so you know.”

Dick nodded “Babs has mom’s taxi being traced as we speak. Tim is also tailing the thing.”

Jason took a deep breath before turning around facing the restaurant. Five months, as far as Jason knows, his mother Y/N Wayne has been stalked by a group for five months. And it only seems to be getting worse. Word around the streets is that there’s a twisted fan club. A fan club that is too infatuated with the lady of the Wayne household. And the only way a person can be initiated into the group is by meeting Y/N Wayne.

“Jay. I know you know Bruce is working on this case. Why not join him instead of doing it alone.”

Jason scoffed “please, Bruce will just put the mastermind in jail. And then what? Tell me, are you comfortable with mom having stalkers trying to get to her any chance they get?”

Dick didn’t respond, which cause Jason to laugh “exactly. That man did nothing when I died. I’m not taking that risk. Not when my Mom is involved.”

Jason noticed the waiter walk out of the establishment and hastily walked towards a dark ally. Jason put his helmet back on “if you want to help, stay out of my way.” Jason, dressed as redhood Jumped down from the building to follow the man.

Dick watched as his brother followed the guy.

“You know he’s going to need some backup right?” He heard Barbra in his ear piece.

“Maybe he’s hungry.” Dick flipped off the building befit grappling the next one. Following his brother.

~~~~~

You arrive to the manor and went straight to the cave. “Bruce! Bruce Wayne show yourself right now!” You yelled into the void it seemed. Bats fluttered about as your husband dressed as Batman turned in his seat. He got up and walked towards you

You pointed a finger at him “you stood me up.”

Bruce rose his hands in surrender “I can explain.”

“It better be good. Because ain’t no way I went to your favorite restaurant only to be looking like a goof ball all alone. The gossip news shows are going to have a field day with this one.”

Bruce didn’t say anything. How could he, on the one hand he’s been trying to figure out who’s actively hunting you down. While on the other hand, he did use you for bait. And that he’ll have no problem taking to the grave.

“Bruce, talk to me. You and the kids have been tense lately. Is the world ending again?” You ask stepping closer to Bruce. You knew his actions were for a reason, but after years of dealing with this kind of thing, it’s starting to bug you slightly.

Bruce finally felt defeated. “You remember Dom? Dom rosenbloom from highschool?”

You giggled “of course. I’ve always found him sweet. Wonder what he’s up to.”

“He’s stalking you” Bruce said bluntly.

Your mouth hung open shocked by the sudden declaration “what? H-how?”

Bruce takes your hand and walks you to the computer. He pulled up multiple videos of this man following you at every instance. Galas, work, the gym, even at the supermarket.

“Bruce. Why didn’t you say anything’s“ you gasped before slapping his shoulder “you used me as bait.”

Bruce smiled slightly. Your tone was most definitely playful given the situation. “I might’ve”

You squeezed Bruce’s hand making him face you. His armored chest rising and falling slowly. You look up into his eyes. He then returned the gesture by placing one of his gloved hands on your face. “On a serious note Honey. You’re in danger so lay low for me alright.”

You nod your head. Your fingers dancing along his chest “That’s still not an excuse to stand me up.” You say standing up on your tippy toes before giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. You turn and began ascending the stairs. “I’ll be more carful from now on Bruce. Now… Could you at least join me in the bath~ I think that’ll make up for your silliness.”

Bruce looked at the time then back at you. “It’ll be my pleasure Mrs.Wayne”

~~~

Jason followed the waiter to a run down school. He loaded his gun before stealthily walking into the building.

“Rubber bullets?” Nightwing chirped beside him.

Jason swung his arm around pointing the gun at his brother “keep it up and I’ll use real ones. Just for you.” Jason scoffed “you’re a pain in the ass”

“Not as big of a pain at that one over there.” Dick pointed to the other side of the building. Damian dressed as Robin snuck in through a window before disappearing.

Stressed Jason put the gun away “Wheres his adult.” He said before the two followed the tween down the hall.

~~~

“My brothers! We are gathered here today to honor a priced relic. Mrs.Wayne’s gloves.”

A group of people gathered in the abandoned schools gymnasium. Y/N’s belonging from shoes, jewelry, even discarded hair products were put up on display. Ooo’s and ah’s can be heard from the crowd making Tim feel sick to his stomach. Before he hacked into the building lighting grid gunshots fired. Tim massaged his temple, there was only one other person he can think of that doesn’t have his kind of finesse.

“Alright. Which one of you is the leader?” Red hood parted the crowed of people as he pointed the gun at the man on stage.

Tim moved his head side to side before jumping down from his hiding spot. Knocking out one of the stage guards.

The man attempted to run on the other side but was stopped my a smaller Robin. Damian kicked the guard in the gut before crossing his arms.

The leader’s face turned red with embarrassment “What is the meaning of this. I , Dominic rosebloom will have all of you- ”

“Pfffft I’m sorry. Rose bloom? That’s your name.” Nightwing appeared from behind Redhood who still had the gun pointed at Dominic. “You were bullied weren’t you.”

Dominic opened his mouth to say something but Tim pulled out his laptop. “Actually yes. According to sources Y/n Wayne was his only friend throughout his high school years. Then uhh… Bruce Wayne stole her from him. Gross… anyway You guys didn’t know that?”

“Tsk what does it matter. Let’s settle this quickly. I have something important attend to.”

****

The sun shone through the silk curtains of your bedroom. Normally you’d wake up in bed alone but your husband laid next to you scrolling through his phone. He chuckled slightly before showing you what he was reading.

“Dominic RoseBloom found guilty for harassing and Stalking Mrs.Wayne”

The picture provided was a grown man left out in the open with heart underwear and a dunce hat on.

“No… who would humiliate him like that.” You say pressing a hand over your mouth.

Bruce look at the picture further, he noticed a green cape in the bottom of the photo “our children.”

[hearts4renaa]

YOU'RE LOSING ME.

summary: how the love began to die out between you and them. featuring kamisato ayato, alhaitham, diluc, and zhongli. gn! reader (see a/n below) pt. 2 here w/c: 2.1k words in total a/n: inspired by the new vault track from midnights by taylor swift. meant to be a gender neutral reader but one of the lyrics i reference uses "her". otherwise, no pronouns used.

And I wouldn’t marry me either, a pathological people pleaser, who only wanted you to see her.

“I’ll be entering an arranged marriage to the daughter of another clan.” Ayato said matter of factly, as if it was as casual as discussing the weather. Today was the off day Ayato had free. He’s been so busy the past month that he barely has time for you. You can’t even remember the last time the two of you woke up together. He always slept late and woke up earlier than you. The affection was rarely there too; The usual loving kisses and cuddles were reduced to pecks on the cheek and pats on the arm. This was one of the rare times you were actually able to sit down with him. 

The air was tense, almost impossible to breathe in. What was supposed to be a romantic dinner quickly turned sour the moment Ayato announced a piece of news you never wanted to hear. “I’ll be meeting her in two weeks. I’m expecting the marriage ceremony to take place within the next three months or so.” He wasn’t looking at you, instead more focused on the food in front of him. Your chopsticks fall from your hands, the clatter piercing the silence between you two. Ayato looks at you, completely deadpanned. You take the moment to really, truly look at him. His expression was standoffish, and his eyes were dispassionate. Just where did that loving gaze go? “What?” He asks.

“Ayato, you can’t just expect me to be happy about this.” You huff in frustration, picking up your chopsticks and setting them down in a proper manner. “When you accepted the proposal, did you just forget about our relationship? About me?” 

Ayato rolled his eyes and sighed. “You’re acting like I declared undying love for her. I’m simply doing what’s best for the clan, and for Inazuma as a whole.” He puts down his chopsticks as well, clearly not focused on eating anymore. “It’s not like I’m ending things with you. Marrying her opens many opportunities I can’t pass on.”

“You’re not ending things with me, but you’re just gonna go off and marry some girl?” Your heart broke a little more with every word. If someone were to listen closely, they could probably hear each individual crack. “Ayato, our relationship has already been wavering a little…you’re so busy. It’s like you just can’t fit me into your schedule.” Your eyes start to become glossy, and you need to swallow back your tears to fight against them falling. “How can I expect us to stay together when you need to make room for two spouses now? I thought love meant more to you than business did.” Your voice cracked with every syllable that fell from your lips.

Ayato stood up from his seat on the floor, adjusting his sleeves and beginning to make his way to the door. He slides it open before stopping in place. “Marrying her has a lot to offer.” He speaks, but he isn’t even looking at you.

“And I don’t?” You ask. You didn’t even know if you wanted the answer to that. Luckily for you, he didn’t answer at all. He looked back at you from over his shoulder. He takes a breath, and you feel as if he’s stealing the air straight out of your lungs. He turns his head back and sighs. He steps forward, leaving the room. 

The door shuts, and you are left in silence.

And I’m fading, thinking: Do something babe, say something.

With Alhaitham being appointed as Acting Grand Sage, it’s only natural that his workload for the Akademiya would increase. However, if there’s one thing that Alhaitham truly hates, it’s when unnecessary work piles up and begins to leak into his personal life, like a bucket overflowing with water. A work-life balance can only go so far before work begins to completely tilt the scale in its favor. Naturally, this takes away from time the two of you could spend together.

Normally, that would be completely fine with you. You knew Alhaitham was a busy man with a busy lifestyle. It’s completely reasonable for him to not throw aside his work just for you. Alhaitham always tries to make time for you, to show you his affection in small ways that don’t take up too much time. Either with tea he makes for you before he leaves for work, small trinkets that begin to appear on your bedside table, or a hushed declaration of love when he accidentally wakes you up when he rises early. But recently, his efforts have been slowly dwindling. You no longer wake up to the smell of tea. You no longer reach over to your nightstand in a sleepy haze, only to feel an object that was not there before. You no longer hear an “I love you” amongst the sound of your bedsheets ruffling in the early hours of the morning.

Of course, you noticed. So you took it amongst yourself to try and do something to express your love. You usually go to sleep before him, but here you are in the living room, waiting for him to return. It’s already quite late, and you fight back a yawn every twenty minutes or so, but you’re determined to stay awake to greet him. The smell of his favorite food wafts in from the kitchen, and you smile while thinking of his reaction. You might not be a Michelin star chef, but you pour love into everything you make him.

Finally, the door opens, and there he is. His eyes are tired, and an annoyed expression is etched onto his face. “Hey, honey.” You shoot up from your seat to greet him at the door. His head snaps in your direction slightly, not expecting you to still be awake. He lets out a little grunt as a response. You can tell he’s in a bad mood, but you keep pushing. “You’re home late.” You state before realizing how you pointed out the painfully obvious.

“I always am.” His voice is monotone, cold. He walks straight past you, barely even sparing you a glance.

Your hope begins to falter, but you try again. “Are you hungry? I made you dinner.” You reach your hand out to lightly touch his. He pulls his hand away with no hesitation. You feel the familiar sting deep in your stomach, and you try your best to ignore it. You clear your throat as if to rid the moment of his past action before speaking again. “Then, maybe we could eat together-”

He groans aloud. “Can you just be quiet?” He snaps. His voice wasn’t angry. It wasn’t filled with love or hate. It was indifference, and in all honesty, that hurt so much more. “I’m exhausted. The last thing I need today is you nagging me.” 

You falter, as if you were shrinking away in a desperate attempt to try and disappear. “Right.” Your voice is quiet, meek. “Of course.” You turn away to walk into the kitchen, and you hear your shared bedroom door slam shut. You sit at the dinner table, gazing at the untouched meals on the opposite ends. Your hand moves to touch the spoon and stir it around in the food, but any outsider could tell that you have no intention of eating a single bite. 

For the rest of the night, you sit there alone as the food goes cold.

Lose something babe, risk something. (You’re losing me.)

If there’s one thing Diluc strives to do, it’s protect you. He lost his father already, he can’t risk losing you too. It brings him peace to know that you’re safe at Dawn Winery, away from things that can bring you harm. But even though he is protective, it’s not as though he keeps you locked inside the house. He knows of your adventurous spirit and he would never want to hurt you. However, he has a habit of being a little paranoid. The people of Mondstadt are aware of your relationship, but he rarely lets the two of you be seen together. He prefers things quite private, but you’re starting to get a little sick of it.

You just returned from a small commission; it’s been ages since you’ve done one. It felt so refreshing to wield your weapon and go on a mini adventure! Even if it was just a few slimes near Windrise, the experience was one you haven’t had in far too long. You end up with a small cut on your hand, but you look at it in pride as you walk back to the winery. You open the heavy door, and you’re met with the face of your lover.

“Y/N, where were you?” Diluc’s question is loud, his voice laced in concern. A second barely passes, and he’s already by your side. He catches sight of your hand and cages it in his larger ones. “Why is your hand hurt?”

You shake him off lightly, heading to the couch to set your things down. “I took a small commission.” You explain. “Just a little group of slimes. My hand got cut, but I’m okay. Don’t worry about it!” You attempt to reassure him, but the crease in his eyebrows doesn't go away.

“Y/N, how many times have I told you?” Diluc scolded. He folds his arms over his chest. “You don’t need to take commissions. I provide for us enough already.”

Your eyes roll before you can stop them. You can feel your frustration rise inside you. “I didn’t take the commission for the money, Diluc.” You huff at him. “I wanted an adventure, even if it was a small one. It’s the experience I wanted.”

Diluc scoffs. “Oh, so getting hurt is an enjoyable experience for you?” Diluc never had the most friendly tone, but you’d have to be truly clueless to miss the sarcasm weaved into his words.

“By the Seven, Diluc, it was a cut!” You exclaim. “All of this over a cut?”

He looks you in the eyes. “You know I just want you to be safe.”

Your eyes softened slightly, biting your lip. “But Diluc, you play it too safe sometimes.” You grab your weapons and bag again, adjusting your jacket before heading towards the door. Despite just getting home, you felt the need to get away, to cool off. Maybe to kill some other monsters, you weren’t sure.

“Where are you going?” He asks.

“Out.” You respond curtly. You weren’t sure of your destination, but you didn’t care. You just needed to be away from him.

“Y/N-“ He called out. You cut him off by slamming the heavy winery doors.

Choose something babe, I’ve got nothing to believe, unless you’re choosing me.

“I love you.” Zhongli murmured, knuckles turning white with how hard he was gripping his pole arm. He towered over you, who was on the ground in a pool of blood. The metallic smell was hard to ignore. “I love you, I truly do. And I always will.”

You laugh bitterly. “You love me, and you caused my injury.” You use your hand to weakly gesture towards your torso. “Some love you have…”

Zhongli grips his weapon even harder. He digs the heels of his feet into the group as an effort to ground himself. He knew that if he were to take a single step, he’d run to you, and he’s not sure if he can stop himself. He takes a breath to calm himself, and every breath of air he breathes makes him wish he could breathe that same life into you instead. “It’s for my nation.” He says as calmly as he can. Oh, how he wished he could run to you, kiss you, and heal you. He continues with bated breath. “You know I cherish my nation.”

You cough, blood splattering out. “More than you cherish me?” You ask weakly. “More than you cherish us?”

Zhongli’s eyes soften with sadness. “Yes…more than I cherish you, my love.”

You sigh, suddenly feeling the fatigue hit you like a truck. You’re so tired. So, so tired. You voice out your thoughts. “I’m exhausted, Zhongli.” Your voice is weak, along with your body.

“I’m sorry.” He says before facing away from you. He can’t bear to look at you in this state. He can’t bear to see what he’s done to you. He takes slow steps away, using all his willpower to not turn around and run to your side.

“I love you, Zhongli.” You call out.

He takes one final look. “I love you too, dearest.”

A sad, soft smile etches itself onto your face. Your eyelids droop, and eventually, they flutter closed. Zhongli stares at you sadly. His weapon drops to the ground, making a loud clatter. The silence is deafening. He peers at your lifeless body before closing his eyes. “You’ll always be my favorite story.” He whispers.

A single tear falls from his eyes.

[harunayuuka2060]

Lucas: YOU DID WHAT?!!!

MC: You're making my ears bleed, Sir Lucas. *chuckles*

Lucas: *the sound of him facepalming*

Lucas: Listen here, Your Majesty. Yes, you're incognito. But please, for the love of Arendelle,

Lucas: DON'T JUST ACCEPT STRANGERS IN THE PLACE YOU'RE STAYING AT!

MC: *chuckles*

Lucas: *sigh* You're not listening to me. Of course, why would you? You're the reigning monarch.

MC: Please don't say that. Your insights have always been helpful.

Lucas: Hmph.

MC: Turning to another matter, I would be interested to learn more about my little brother—ah, my apologies, I mean the prince regent.

Lucas: He's been managing the state affairs seriously, Your Majesty.

MC: Ah, I see. That explains why he hasn't had a moment to return my call.

Lucas: No, that's not the reason at all. He misses you so much, yet he doesn't want to hear your voice because it will only make him miss you more.

Lucas: *sighs* I feel bad for His Royal Highness for having an older sibling who won't stay at home.

MC: *chuckles* My apologies.

Riddle: ...

Trey and Cater: ...

Riddle: I've received word from the headmage that half of our students wish to change dormitories.

Cater: Wow... That many?

Riddle: It seems they felt compelled to comply with the Queen of Hearts' rules. HOW INEPT OF THEM!

Trey: *is not really surprised*

Cater: So, what are you going to do now, Riddle-kun?

Riddle: ...

Riddle: I have no comment on this matter. If they wish to depart, they are free to do so. However, they should not expect me to welcome them back once they realize the missed opportunity.

Trey and Cater: ...

Riddle: *is on his way to class when he hears the students passing by*

Student A: We should ask the headmage to designate Ramshackle Dorm as an official residence, thereby appointing MC-senpai as a dorm leader.

Student B: Do you think he'll agree?

Student A: He doesn't really have a choice. Half of the Heartslabyul students have nowhere to go, and it would be difficult for us to adapt if we're to be accepted by other dorms.

Student B: Guess you're right.

Riddle: ...

Trey: The headmage denied the students' request to formalize Ramshackle Dorm as an official residence.

Riddle: Huh? Why? What's the reason?

Trey: He said that MC proposed an alternate solution.

Trey: Which is to send the students back to Heartslabyul.

Riddle: HUH?!!

Trey: They believed it was merely a misunderstanding and that things could still be resolved. They even mentioned their willingness to engage in a conversation with you to uncover the cause.

Riddle: ARE THEY IMPLYING THAT I'M THE PROBLEM?!

Trey: I don't think that's that...

Trey: They've already talked to our students and they just want to hear your side.

Riddle: ...

Riddle: Very well. I will send them a formal invitation to Heartslabyul.

Trey: ...

Trey: Just a fair warning. Riddle can be hot-headed sometimes.

Trey: Are you sure you really want to talk to him?

MC: Yes. He seems to be a diligent and competitive leader.

MC: I will enjoy talking to him. *smiles*

Trey: ...

Trey: *sigh* Well, I warned you.

[wonysugar]

My mind keeps imagining g!p wony x sub reader x g!p Karina, like🤭🤭 Both of them having unnie kink and breeding kink? USGSIAHAIAHAYA the woman they are😩

taking this as old ass ask as an opportunity to write some drabbles for you guys while i finish up my draftss cause i know that you guys are starving rn😭i’m so sorry for the longg wait, i promise i’m trying my hardest to get them done as fast as i can, please bare with me🙏

cw!! g!p, breeding kink, unnie kink, free-use, college au

so uhm they’re both hung. SORRY, I SAID IT… THEY’RE BOTH HUNG SUE ME LITERALLY SUEE MEEE!

now.. g!p wonyoung has basically all of us here on a chokehold, that much is obvious! however, i don’t think i’ve ever talked about g!p jimin on here? WEYLPP YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANSS THERE’S A FIRST TIME FOR EVERYTHINGGG~~

so what is the deal with these two? well i’ll tell you what; losers, the both of them, two actual massive fawking nerds!! they will always be caught at the library studying for mid terms,, either that or they’re in their dorm playing overwatch and valorant all day long😭😭losers trapped in hot bodies i fear

jimin and wonyoung considered you a friend ever since you asked the two of them to help you study the material, since their grades are practically outrageous.. so yeah you guys are just overall suuuuper chill and gawsh they just really appreciate your presence altogether it’s all happy and jolly! they’re a year above you, which probably explains the giggly and jittery reaction they both get when you call them your unnies… they can’t help but to baby you all the time!

some day, they innocently invite you over to their dorm, yknow just asking to order food and study together and whatnot, perhaps getting on val afterwards for shits and giggles.. you accept, of course, because why would you pass up an opportunity to improve your grades with two of the best students in your program, let alone a hang out between friends?

when you do get there, the dorm is clean and tidy, just as you’d expect from such model students. you do end up studying for about an hour and a half, that is until wonyoung suggests taking a break, wearing a warm smile as she adjusts her glasses.

“why don’t we stop for a little bit, hm?” she says, closing the book in front of you as she throws quick glances at jimin, they seem innocent enough, so you paid no mind to those.

jimin only nodded, liking the idea and gently putting her hand on your arm, “it is indeed very important to regularly take breaks when studying. plus, you’ve worked hard today, don’t you think, baby?”

in a usual situation, you wouldn’t be at all fazed by the pet name she used, since the two girls basically call you that every chance they get. however, you don’t know if it was jimin’s hand caressing your arm at that moment or the way that wonyoung was staring at your eyes that made you especially nervous, perhaps it was both, but you nodded to her words regardless.

she was right, after all, breaks are very necessary to a productive study session.

however, you quickly grasped that the ‘break’ in question would last much, much longer than you expected when jimin’s lips were suddenly trailing kisses down your neck whilst wonyoung caressed your hair.

“unnie—“ you reached out for her hand, more and more adrenaline rushing through your body with each kiss that jimin left on your soft skin.

and because that honorific just drives the both of them FAWKING crazy, “your unnies will take good care of you, okay sweetheart?” is what she’d softly say, smiling. you’d nod, entranced, before feeling her soft lips on yours. you knew there was no turning back when they eventually grabbed your two hands and made you feel their visible and poking hard-ons, which got you embarrassingly riled up to a great extent.

the rest is history, really. you never in a million years would’ve thought a ‘study session�� would end up with having jimin fuck you missionary, watching how her cock disappears inside you as she slowly thrusts into you and moans your name whilst wonyoung fucked your throat, nestling her slender fingers into your hair guiding your head to bob up and down her length ahehehefheh

when both of them are close to cumming, i feel like they’d be the types to not even tell you, lowkey.. especially jiminfcksmdm she’d just be so lost in the sensation of how good her cock feels fucking your tight, wet cunt is that she’d just carelessly shoot her load into you as if you were just some sex toy,,, she can’t help it!! she wants to mark you as much as she can, even if that meant potentially knocking you u— [GUNSHOTS]

also it is important to mention that while jimin lovesss fucking your pussy, wonyoung is absolutely a head girlie.. she’d much rather have you down on her knees and sucking her dick than fucking you. don’t get her wrong, she’ll still dick you down if you asked her to, she just prefers using the pretty mouth that calls her ‘unnie’ way more aheheh

you’d just be straight up lying if you said that you didn’t yearn for more of them after that day… especially after having the many changes that your relationship with them had gone through. back then, they’d stare at you with innocent eyes, gaze warm and polite when seeing you, waving at you. now? they were basically eyefucking you and smirking at you everytime they saw you in the hallways.

it didn’t take long for them to take that to the next level,, omg next level by aespa— [NUKES] SORRY. but yeah sometimes even pulling you away from your nerdy friend group to have a quickie in the bathroom just because they know you’ll let them use your body at random times of the daycjenfkd they’re unhinged i fear! using your exams as an excuse,, saying shit like “but it’s important to relax and relieve stress before an exam!” before proceeding to dick you down in a stall likee.. right, right..

of course, you live for every second of it and they know it, but acting all innocent and oblivious towards their advances when really, you’re already soaked by the time that you’re on your way to their dorm so you can suck them off after they text you to come over is all part of the funkdjsndm

[lovelettersfromluna]

After Dark

Summary: It’s a universal rule that every ghost face at a Halloween party is hot underneath. Let’s test that theory, shall we?

an: AHHH OKAY! Lemme explain. I made a post about participating in kinktober, and while a lot of you wanted me to, I feel like it’s too late for me to properly participate. HOWEVER, I still want to give you something to kick off the weekend! Something spooky AND smutty for all my ghouls out there. I hope you’re all having a good Halloweekend! Pls stay safe and have lots of fun, I’m sure you all have the cutest costumes planned! Also, I took a different approach to reader, so let me know how you guys like her!! 🖤🖤 p.s I was drunk when I wrote this :p

Warnings: SMUT!!! 18+, MDNI, porn with no plot, strap-on sex, mentions of the word “cock”, mask kink, alcohol usage, mentions of latex, riding, cliche house party trope, slight sugar mommy!ellie if you squint??, lmk if I missed anything!

Out of all of three hundred and sixty five days of the year, today was your favorite.

Today was the one day within the year that there weren’t really any rules. You could wear anything, be whoever you wanted, and it was socially acceptable to get drunk while doing so, and there was no way in hell you would ever pass up on that.

No matter the circumstances, you were invited to a Halloween party. Whether it was some cheesy bash that was being thrown at a friend of a friends house, or a more upscale party, you were going out.

And you always looked damn good doing so.

You were always praised on your costumes, every year it was expected of you to top what you did the last, so there was no doubt in the fact that you were putting in maximum effort year after year.

This year? You stuck with one of the classics of course. The devil.

You were dripping in skin tight latex, the black corset you wore that pushed your boobs out perfectly, your soft skin nearly spilling out of the tight top, the tight booty shorts that hugged the globes of your ass, your cheeks peeking out, the gloves that hugged your arms, and the thigh high socks that shined under the moonlight, everything you wore was that delicious shiny material that made you look almost unreal.

And underneath it all? You had painted your entire body red, paired with fake red horns peeking out of your pretty hair.

So yeah, you were almost always crowned as the queen of Halloween.

This year was no different, halloweekend had been kicked off with quite the everything shower, making sure your body was in perfect condition for everything you’d be attending. You had gotten ready with your friends at your apartment, getting a few shots in before making it to the biggest party of the year. Everyone looked forward to it, putting together their best costumes for the party at the house that almost everyone died to get into.

Walking down the streets of the city on Halloween was like Christmas, various characters from movies and cartoons cheering, dancing, all social barriers that were put up every other day of the year were down, the veil being lifted for one night that allowed anything to be game.

The amount of whistles you and your friends received on your way there was almost appalling, not to mention the amount of people who told you they’d let you torture them any day. You thought that was cute.

Soon enough, the sounds of the party were near, and you could see the red lights spilling out of the big house in the middle of the block, and you knew it was time.

Eyes were on you immediately, and it made you giggle as you scoped out the food group that was there tonight. Of course you knew they’d stare, drool over you with their mouths open, begging for just a moment of your time.

But you were a very picky girl.

Ignoring their advances was like second nature, all you had to do, was shake your ass, drink some free liquor, and wait for the perfect person to take up your time for the night.

And as always, that never took long for you.

Your hips swayed to the music, eyes closed as you enjoyed one of the best parts of parties. The alcohol you drank made your body warm up in the best way, made every touch on your body feel so much more intense, all while numbing out everything else. It made you feel alive, it made you raise your arms above your head and simply let the music move you.

It was only a moment, your eyes drifting open to make sure your friend was still in front of you, and you’re sure if you hadn’t, you would’ve missed it.

Across the room, stood a tall figure. She wore a loose black t shirt, baggy black jeans, black boots….

And a ghost face mask.

The figure was turned towards you, leaning against the wall with a red solo cup clasped between a hand, a pretty tattoo bleeding into it. Anyone else would have seen it, and thought that whoever it was, was extremely fucking creepy. Everyone knew that ghost face was one of the creepiest people you could choose to be for Halloween ever.

But it just so happened, that you’ve always had a thing for masked killers.

Although you couldn’t see the eyes of the person behind the mask, you could feel them, and it made you burn from the inside. You bit your bottom lip softly, throwing back the rest of the alcohol in your cup before you turned your body more towards them, giving them a good view of your body. You began dancing, putting on a show for them, your glove glad hands running up and down your body, your neck, your boobs, your waist, practically having sex on the dance floor with yourself, all for this stranger who was most definitely watching you.

You feel like you have x-ray vision, because although you can’t see her face, you can see the way she grips her cup tighter whenever you sway your hips, turning around to give her a nice view of your ass. You see the way she shifts her weight onto her other foot whenever your hand runs over the curve of your tits. When you really know you’ve got her, is when you rest your hands on your friends hips, and pull her into your crotch, your eyes never leaving the ghost face mask. You know you’ve got her because she sets her cup down, raises her long, skinny fingers, and silently calls you over before she makes her way down one of the hallways in the house.

And suddenly, a game of cat and mouse begins.

You almost never chase anyone at a party, you’re always the one that’s being chased. However, there’s something about this ghost face. There’s an aura radiating off of her, one that’s dripping of lust, screaming at you, telling you she’s got exactly what you need, exactly what you’re looking for during these stupid Halloween parties.

So you break your little streak, and as soon as she calls you, you’re following her.

The house is lit up with all different colors, the kitchen was purple, the living room was pink, everywhere you turned was another tinted space that fit the Halloween vibe perfectly.

As you look around for your ghost face, you can’t help but huff softly. It almost feels as if she’s disappeared into thin air, as if the alcohol in your system made you hallucinate the entire thing. You begin to question yourself, a soft pout on your lips as you make your way down the final place to look for her.

But of course, you finally find her leaned up against one of the hallways, and of course it’s completely lit up red.

You tug your bottom lip between your teeth as you smile, making you way towards her. Once you’re standing in front of her, you expect her to take off the mask, show her who it is that’s hiding behind that silly mask.

But she doesn’t

You giggle softly, your hand toying with the hem of her shirt as you stare up at her with big doe eyes.

“You gonna show me the pretty face you’re hiding under that mask?” You purr out, and the ghost face simply shakes her head. It makes you pout, tugging at her shirt gently as you lean into her a bit, but still keeping your body a ways away from hers.

“But…how am I supposed to talk to you if I can’t see you” you whine, hoping that this little pouty act will get you what you want. It usually does, but this ghost face seems far too stubborn for that. She simply cocks her head to the side, as if clicking her tongue and mocking your pout.

It makes your pussy flutter with need.

She hasn’t even said anything to you, but you’re already squeezing your legs together, eager for some kind of friction to soothe the ache between your legs, your lips rubbing together with the arousal that grew with each passing second.

You hum softly, your latex clad fingers running down her arm, reaching her tattoo and tracing the pattern gently.

Hm…you don’t recall that one.

She gives you her arm with ease, allowing you to see her tattoo, that makes you smile softly.

“This is pretty…” you hum before you look back up at her, biting your plush bottom lip softly. “Are there anymore for me to find?” You question, giving her a playful smile. This one gets her, because you can hear the way her breath shudders, see the way her chest rises and falls for a moment.

She’s right where you want her.

You hum softly, your hand slowly coming up to the mask, eyeing her closely as you gently begin pushing it up, eager to see her face. You flinch when she grabs your wrist, stopping you from lifting it up any further. You pout again, it’s genuine this time, not like before. A soft huff leaves your lips before you open your mouth to complain, tell the girl that if she doesn’t want to show you her face, you’ll leave to find someone else who will.

But before you can, you’re being tugged into a random bedroom.

Upon entering, you can see why this place is the spot was so popular for parties. The rooms are clean, and the host went as far as to decorate them accordingly, the same red lights from the hallway lighting up the place. If you weren’t so hellbent on getting fucked by the ghost face, you’d most certainly be gushing over what a wonderful party host this was.

Your thoughts are completely cut off by strong arms wrapping around your waist, and pulling you into an even stronger chest. It makes you moan softly, your head falling back against her chest. You feel her strong hands running up and down your latex clad body, squeezing your hips, your boobs, running along your thighs. You can hear her breathing behind you, and you can almost hear the sweet tone of her voice through it.

You let out a small whine, one of your hands coming down to lay over hers, keeping her close to you. “Wanna play with you…” you hum softly, it makes your ghost face groan, her hands squeezing your plush body before she turns you around, and pushes you onto the soft bed.

It makes you giggle softly, your hands running along the soft sheets as you watch her. She looks like a god above you, standing so tall, the ghostly mask almost haunting as she eats you up with her eyes, head cocked to the side as you lazily smile up at her.

You move to prop yourself up onto your hands, palms pressing into the bed, your legs spreading for her. “So…you’re leaving the mask on, huh? Does that make me the helpless victim?” You pout out, holding back a giggle as you recite the lines from the movie the mask came from. It earns a slow nod from your ghost face, and you have to hold back a moan.

“Well…please play with me ghost face…I wanna be yours tonight” you purr out, your body sitting up as you reach forward, your fingers snagging around the belt loop of her jeans and pulling her closer.

You hear a soft sigh from behind the mask, and it almost sounds like she’s suffering, like she’s torturing herself just as much as she’s torturing you by not touching you yet. Her strong hand slowly comes up, cupping your chin gently and angling your head up, her thumb dragging across your bottom lip. You moan softly, kissing her finger gently, it makes her groan again.

She slowly moves down, bending down until her hands are pushed against the bed, caging you in. It makes you crawl backwards, a soft whimper leaving your lips. When she’s this close, backing you up onto the bed, you can catch a glimmer of her eyes beneath the mesh material of the eyes of the ghost. You can see her long lashes, and big green eyes. It makes your pussy throb desperately.

Because fuck, you’ve never seen eyes that pretty before.

You almost done catch her hands reaching down between you, pushing into the tight material of your latex shorts, fingers pressing against your soaked core. You’re so desperate for her, that the small act makes you moan softly, eyes fluttering shut as you grind your hips against her fingers. You can tell she’s skilled just by the way she fingers your clit and rubs you slowly, the right fabric of your shorts making it an even tighter fit.

“Fuck…” you hear softly from behind the mask, and it’s the first time you’ve properly heard her voice, it makes you feel like you can cum right then and there.

You blink softly as you stare into her eyes, watching her as she slowly toys with your pussy, making you whine and moan for her from the small motions of her fingers.

“Mmpph…feels…fuck…your fingers…” you moan softly, feeling yourself growing close just from the way she rubbed your throbbing clit. Your hand goes down to her tattooed arm, grabbing it as she begins to speed up. You whine loudly, your back arching as you grind in tow with her movements, and fuck…you’re so close, you feel like you’re going to explode just from a stranger finger fucking you.

And suddenly, her fingers are gone.

“W-what? Why’d you…why’d you stop” you whimper softly while trying to catch your breath, watching as your ghost face began to tug your shorts off. You whine softly with embarrassment, watching as she silently tugged your shorts off, a string of your arousal connecting you to your shorts. You can’t remember the last time you were this wet.

Your ghost face groans softly, mumbling something under her breath that you don’t quite catch. You open your mouth to say something, but you’re quickly being tugged up into her arms as she lays down on the bed.

Now you’re straddling her lap, your bare core dragging along her jeans as her strong hands massage your thighs. You whine softly, because you can feel the prominent bulge pressing against you through her pants. Her hands go to your hips, forcing you to grind your soaking wet pussy against her crotch, your arousal staining her black jeans, making you burn from the inside out.

You moan loudly, your hands pressing against her lower stomach as you watch the way she slowly grinds you down on her as she pleases. You’re eager, so you’re already undoing her belt and unbuttoning her jeans. You almost expect her to stop you, but she doesn’t, and you’re pulling out her pink strap, the length of it making your mouth water.

If you weren’t so fucking horny, the color would’ve made you giggle, but there’s no time for that. You tug her jeans down a bit more, to which she lifts her hips up to help you, and you begin to crawl up her body slightly until you’re hovering over her length, her hand grabbing the shaft as she runs it along your lips, getting it wet with your arousal before she helps you sink down on it.

The moan you both let out is past pornography, the weight of you pushing down her strap rubs against her clit perfectly, and she’s sure she’s never experienced someone riding her so fucking well. The sound of her pretty voice makes you want to cry, because she’s been teasing you so much that you’ll take just about anything she gives you. You begin to bounce on her length slowly, adjusting to her size, your hands pressed against her chest to act as leverage.

“Oh my…fucking god….mmmhhh…a-ah!” You moan out, eyes fluttering shut as you ride her, back arching as your hands go up into your hair, tugging on it, needing somewhat of an outlet to release the pleasure you were feeling. Your senses were on overload, and you weren’t sure if it was the build up of not knowing who the hell you were fucking, or if it was truly that good, but you’re sure you’ve never had a fuck this good in your entire life.

“Fuck…that’s a good fucking girl…bouncing on my cock so well…yeah…that’s it” the voice makes you moan loudly, your eyes opening immediately. She sounds perfect, her voice low and smooth, strong hands gripping your thighs for a moment before they come down on your ass, spanking you hard and making you moan even louder.

You can practically hear the smirk in her voice when she speaks, her voice dripping with lust as you fuck your self down onto her cock. “Haven’t even seen my face and you’re doing all of this for me…treating me special, pretty girl?” She hums out before moaning loudly with you. You can’t help but nod, slowly feeling yourself becoming dumb on her cock.

“S’good…feels so good…I’ll do anything for you” you moan out almost incoherently, saying just about anything that comes to mind in that moment.

As you continue bouncing on her cock, the motions of it all makes her mask come up a bit, and you catch a glimpse of her plush pink lips tugged beneath her pretty teeth. It makes you whine softly, and you realize you can’t fucking do this anymore.

You reach forward, your hand going to the edge of the mask, and you tug it off of her head.

You feel like you’ll lose your breath, keel over and die at that very moment when you see her, because she’s so fucking pretty. Her brown hair is so messy, soft fringe splayed across her face, prettiest freckles littering her red cheeks, those same green eyes staring into yours, pretty lips tugging into a smirk when she sees the way your eyebrows furrow with pleasure, knowing that it was her face that made you feel that way.

“Just couldn’t wait, could you?” She smirks softly, her words followed by a soft groan, hands traveling up your body and gripping your boobs that were nearly completely spilled out of your top.

“Want you to cum for me, princess…can you do that? Cum all over my cock?” She urges on, her words cut off by various moans as you continue fucking yourself down on her. You want to speak, but you can’t, so all you do is nod eagerly and give her a loud moan, feeling the familiar warmth building up in the pit of your stomach, electricity traveling through your body.

Ellie moans with you, her eyes never leaving yours as she gives you an encouraging nod. “That’s it baby…such a pretty fucking girl…been watching you all night…knew I needed to…fuck…have you…come on baby…cum for me” she commands, and you feel like you’ll turn into jelly just from the way she tells you to do it, so stern, your legs felt like they could no longer hold you up, shaking as your back arched almost painfully, and your orgasm raked through your body.

It was electrifying, the feeling of her cock sliding so deep into you, your walls fluttering around it as you came, her hands gripping your hips tightly as she pushed even deeper into you, her own orgasm visibly washing over her as she pushed her head further into the bed, eyes squeezing shut, curse words flying from her pretty lips.

You both sat there for a moment, Ellie sitting up and pressing her face against your chest as she held you close, hands rubbing against your thighs, soft kisses against your boobs, giving both you and herself a moment to collect yourselves after the intense session you’d just had.

After a few moments passed, you pouted softly as you looked down at the bed and noticed some of the red body paint had smeared onto the bed.

“Fuck…you don’t think the host will be mad about that…do you?” You mumbled softly, trying to avoid the embarrassment you felt at the fact that your fucking costume had ended up screwing you over.

Ellie chuckled softly as she looked down at the bed, humming softly as she pressed another kiss to your chest before she pulled you down to lay down with her, having every intention of keeping you there until enough people left, and you could both go for a shower.

“Nah…I don’t mind” she smirked softly, knowing she’d most definitely be making sure the sheets were changed for you both in the morning.

[dovesdreaming]

Omg thank god you accept Ben Florian requests you’re my favorite writer lol

I was wondering if you could write Ben Florian x female reader and Ben has been really stressed and caught up with paperwork, meetings and such so he’s been getting less sleep and hanging out with reader a bit less, and the reader usually stays with Ben from time to time in his room so whenever he gets back super late she gets really worried about him because it’s becoming a pattern, but like the reader is super understanding that he has king stuff to attend to but she gets worried so like she goes in his office super late to check on him and bring him a snack or a drink or such and she just gives him like a shoulder massage or helps him organize papers and then like another night she comes in late and she finds him asleep and so she brings him back to his room and he promises to start taking care of himself before his king duties.

Also I am so sorry about all the details, feel free to change anything however you would like, and ofc don’t feel pressured to write this I was just wondering if you could 😊

❦you’re all I need❦

Hi thank you for your request it was so fun to write and the details were perfect! I hope you enjoy reading <3

Note: I am slowly working my way through requests from all fandoms and I’m sorry if yours is taking a while I promise I will get to it!! And thank you for everyone’s support I just reached 1k likes <3

Warnings: none

The work just kept piling up on top of each other with paper work scattered all over bens desk and a meeting nearly everyday. He was getting more and more worn out, being a king was taking a massive toll on him and his body. You saw how Ben slowly unraveled, how he went from being put together to forgetful and stressed. He was never able to fully relax even when he was away from his work.

You first noticed the toll it was taking on Ben when he returned. to his room later than usual. You and Ben stayed together in his room and he always came back around the same time every night. After opening the door he would spread his arms wide which you would be ready to run into for your favourite part of your day. His big hug. You would spend the rest of the night cuddling and talking to each other with many jokes shared, yet none of this happened that day. He returned to his room well after the sun had set, Auradon now cast in darkness as he entered the room not expecting you to be awake as it was well past when you usually feel asleep together. You were sat under the covers in your bed waiting for his return, you had nervously bitten your nails while trying to focus on the book in front of you but your mind wasn’t able to focus as it kept drifting to worries of why Ben hadn’t returned yet. When you heard the door finally open your heart quickened as you knew you would finally see Ben again yet you were not met with the same excitement. Instead Ben was unusually quiet as he took off his shoes and jacket keeping his eyes trained to the ground. You were stunned into silence and didn’t know how to react as Ben had never acted like this before. You didn’t know what was wrong and how you could fix it. Before you could even speak he turned off the lights and climbed into bed next to you only giving your hand a small squeeze before he turned over to sleep, not cuddling up to you like usual. A deep feeling panged inside your heart and nerves ate away at your stomach. You stayed in an upright position before stiffly lying on your back willing yourself to sleep.

When you awoke Ben had already left without him waking you and leaving you with a goodbye kiss like normal. This only worsened the concern you felt for him and your relationship.

Many days had passed exactly like this, it became your new routine and it ate away at all your mind space, you were unable to think about anything else. Did Ben not love you anymore? Was he seeing someone else? No Ben wasn’t like that but you just couldn’t figure out why he was being so distant, you wanted him to open up to you but you never got a chance to speak to him about it as you never saw him anymore. He came back late every night and left before you woke up in the morning, you needed to take action.

You decided to visit Ben at his office, something you rarely did as you didn’t want to disturb anything important and what you find answered many of your questions. After gently knocking on the door and getting no response you slowly creaked it open and peered inside. Many coffee cups were scattered around surfaces and papers that looked important lay anywhere there was space with no organisation in sight. Worst of all you saw Ben asleep in a hunched over position at his desk. When you slowly tried to wake him up he scrambled up and immediately sprung into action before he saw it was you. His face dropped along with his eyes before he quietly murmured “what are you doing here?”. As you gazed around the office more and spotted just why Ben had been distant you looked back to Ben and softened your eyes before slowly moving and cradling him in your arms. You could feel all his stress in the tension in his muscles before he slowly allowed himself to wrap his arms around you and feel slightly relaxed for the first time in weeks.

When you parted Bens feelings of guilt only deepen when looking at the concern in your eyes for him. He took both your hands into his, squeezing them before he started to explain how the duties he had as king started to pile up on top of him and he felt as though he couldn’t gain control over them. You comforted him and gave him time to fully explain just what was going on before you offered your assistance. You spent the next few days helping Ben tidy his office and put order back into the documents. You tidied the accumulated rubbish in his room and helped him plan a schedule so that he could manage everything without becoming burnt out again.

When everything was back to normal he couldn’t be more grateful to you. He also couldn’t be more sorry, he never stopped apologising and would do anything to make it up to you. You only made him promise that in the future he would communicate what was wrong with him so that you didn’t end up in another situation like this. Ben hadn’t realised how much he had missed you and your touch. Being in your presence made him feel alright again and he never wanted to leave your side. You’re all he needed.

That night everything returned back to routine. Ben and you arrived back at your room hand in hand and shared many kisses and cuddles throughout the night before finally drifting off to sleep wrapped securely in each others arm, both of you feeling completely at peace for the first time in weeks. You both slept soundly knowing better days were ahead of you now.

Thank you for reading! ❤️

[stararonia]

COURAGE IN A CAN

– pairing: law x f!reader

– nsfw: semi-public sex, mentions alcohol, fingering, choking, piv, Penguin is a wingman

– summary: Nami and Vivi decided to throw a Halloween Party in their apartment, with the rule that all guests are required to wear costumes. A certain college student wearing a snow leopard suit catches your eye.

You spotted Law across the room, his expression a mix of annoyance and reluctance. Luffy, who, dragged him along to Nami’s party, was off mingling with other guests leaving Law to fend for himself.

As you approached him, a playful smile tugged at your lips. “Not a fan of Halloween parties?” you teased.

Law rolled his eyes. “I’d rather be anywhere else right now.” He crossed his arms, the snow leopard ears on his head twitching slightly as he glanced around at the costumed guests. “Too crowded.”

“Law, it’s a party. Nami’s party to be specific.” You laughed.

“Yo Law!” Shachi yelled, jumping him from behind and dangling his arms over his shoulders. In a half-drunken state, he handed him a half full can of beer. “Have a drink…” he slurred, drool dripping on his shoulders.

“No.” Law replied. However, he didn’t give the can back. Penguin approached you three and pulled Shachi off him, playfully punching Law’s shoulder.

“Live a little!” He insisted, taking a swig of his own can. “I hope to not see you at the dorm room tomorrow, okay?” He looked at you, lifting his eyebrows. With that said, Penguin left, his plastic beak falling on the floor as he wiped beer off his mouth.

Exasperated, Law brought the can to his lips and drank.

“Not bad.” He admitted, looking at it suspiciously. Then he looked at you, taking another drink and passing the can your way. “Not bad at all.”

Smiling, you accepted it and finished the rest.

“How drunk are you?” You whispered in Law’s ear as he pinned you against the cool wall of the apartment’s bathroom.

“Mmm, not much.” He murmured, biting your lip. The noises of the party were loud, the smell of smoke and pizza didn’t intrude your private moment. All of those noises faded as you two gave each other the attention deserved.

“Just enough to get reckless?” You asked, taking the snow leopard ears off his head. You cupped his face with both hands, and looked at him with a half-lidded smile.

“Only reckless with you.” He replied in a husky tone, closing the gap between your faces. Law picked you up and placed you in the bathroom counter, not breaking the kiss.

Both of you were naked, and the heat radiating between your bodies made you two sweat. Law’s delicate fingers explored your body as the kiss grew passionate. His grip, touches, and hold on your skin was tantalizing as he moved his lips to the column of your throat, licking and biting from the base up to your lips.

“Ah-” you moaned, wrapping your hands around his neck as his fingers met your entrance. When he slowly penetrated you and kept a steady pace, Law smirked. “Mmm, I think I like you.” You whispered as you supported yourself on the counter. Your body followed his movements and pace.

“Really?” Law inquired, lifting an eyebrow as he quickened his pace, grabbing your neck, lightly choking you. “I’ve had practice.” He inserted a third finger and put his thumb on your clit, gently brushing against the sensitive area.

“Oh?” You breathed, shivering. You gripped the edge of the counter tightly and closed your eyes, letting the pleasure wash over you. Law had his free hand pin one of your wrists firmly down, making sure you didn’t have a change to escape his grasp. “Well whoever gets fingered by you is lucky as hell.”

Law stopped and took his fingers out, replacing them with the tip of his erection. “I don’t get like this with anyone.” He replied darkly. Then he slipped in, receiving a moan from you.

“Mmm,” you groaned, pulling him closer. “Then…how?” You whispered in his ear, biting it.

“I read.”

Law put his hands on your thighs and slammed into you, hitting the spot inside that had been neglected for so long.

Fully sheathed in you, Law groaned as you two shared another kiss. Both sets of lips showed no care with each others’ as they collided. The kiss was desperate and the mix between your saliva and alcohol you two drank was a reminder that liquid courage went a long way.

“You feel incredible.” He moaned into your shoulder, his hair lightly tickling your face.

You two surrendered your sensations and vulnerabilities to each other, listening to the sound of skin on skin as the night passed by.

Without realizing it, you two followed Penguin’s request. Law wasn’t in his room the next morning.