#today marks this as exactly one year ago!

[masterelrond]

Just realised I never posted my screenshots about the battle at the Morannon!!!

[muchosbesitos]

DOUBLE OR NOTHING— featuring toji fushiguro x wife! reader

after countless empty promises spilled from his lips, you wanted to believe that he’d show up to your anniversary of all things.

contents: 18+ content, minors dni. marriage problems, talks of divorce, (some) angst, smut, porn w minimal plot, cunnilingus w fingering, toji being a panty sniffer briefly mentioned, unprotected p in v, spanking (twice), backshots, missionary against a wall, toji kinda being an ass (what did you expect), pet names (ma, doll, etc.)

word count: 5k

author’s note: back from the dead sry

"I'll make it home to you by six, mama. Take you out on a nice date, get you some flowers, all that stuff you like. Promise."

The clock was nearing eight o'clock with no signs of Toji coming through the door anytime soon, your own patience starting to run out with every tick. Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock. The sound echoed through your ears since you'd sat down on the leather couch nearly two hours ago, waiting for Toji to fulfill the promise. A promise that he'd made after flaking out on the date planned prior to that one.

And prior to that one. And prior. It'd been more missed dates than actual ones that he'd taken you out by now—you weren't exactly sure why you'd hoped for tonight to be different. Well, you knew exactly why. Today marked three years of being married to one another. You knew that he didn't prioritize date nights with you as much as he should, but you had held some sort of foolish hope that your anniversary would mean something—anything to him.

The divorce papers felt like a dead weight in your hand, much like how your relationship would be the second that you brought it up. It all just seemed so final, seeing the terms laid out that would end years of marriage. Just by the flick of a pen. But the idea was almost like a reprieve, like something that was worth looking forward to. You shook your head, getting up from the couch to set the stack of papers on the kitchen table where Toji wouldn't miss them.

Another half hour of eerie silence and Toji still hadn't come through the door. It was getting increasingly difficult to keep some semblance of hope that he'd even show up at all, much less for your date. You admitted defeat, slipping off your heels and pulling up a throw blanket over yourself. Succumbing to the sleep that was weighing down on your eyelids.

You weren't even sure how much time had passed when you heard the door swing open, the door hitting the wall from the force. The thud of his shoes hitting the tile followed, a grumble leaving Toji's lips. "Fuckin' bastards rigged that race. Robbed me of fifty bucks," he muttered to himself, slipping his coat off before placing it up on the coat rack.

"You're home late," you called out, watching as Toji turned to look at the couch before flicking on one of the living room lights. "Jesus woman, you scared me," he grumbled, a large hand resting by his chest as he looked over in your direction. Toji rubbed a hand over his face, exhaustion lingering on his face like a second skin. It was only then that he looked over at you, really looked at you, and what you were wearing.

Ah shit.

Almost as if he wanted to make the situation worse, he'd chosen to go with, "You got all dolled up just to fall asleep on the couch?" You could've sworn you felt your eye twitch at the question. He'd barely opened up his mouth and you were already wishing that he didn't even bother showing up for the night.

Toji knew he was in deep shit with each step he took into the living room, his mind already starting to work overdrive to figure out what he could do for what he'd missed. A date? No, you wouldn't have put on the very expensive pair of Louboutins for just any date. His mind was blanking on anything other than the numbers that he'd lost with earlier in the day. Come on, think.

"No, I got dolled up because I thought I'd be going out with my husband tonight," you retorted dryly, smudges of eyeshadow sticking to your hand when you went to rub at your eyes. You could see Toji's brows furrow, the wheels seeming to turn in his head for once, before a look of realization settled on his features.

"Look, I'm sorry. I got carried away at the casino," one of the many excuses you'd heard before coming back to bite you in the ass. The same excuse that he'd used last month when he forgot about a work party you'd mentioned to him. Which wouldn't have been too bad if it weren't for all the snide comments being whispered in your direction and all the unwarranted marriage advice.

Advice that you ended up forgetting about chugging down two glasses of tequila like water. "I'll make it up to you, I swear. You can pick the place and all that shit." There went another one. He'd really topped himself using the two of them in a row. You rubbed the bridge of your nose, looking over at him in disbelief. "Do you even know what today was? Why I'm so pissed off?"

"It's your birthday?" Toji spoke after a couple seconds, the answer clearly wrong just by the look on his face. You rubbed a hand over your face, standing up from your spot on the couch. "It's our wedding anniversary, Toji," you spoke up before he made another guess that would just piss you off even further, "And I have something I need to talk to you about. It's on the kitchen table."

Underneath the vase filled with wilted flowers—a collection more than anything that you kept around as a reminder that Toji used to care, was a stack of papers. He placed the vase down on the table with more force than necessary upon realizing what the documents were. "A divorce?" The words slipped out of him with such venom, such distaste, like the idea was unfathomable.

Toji slammed the papers down on the table, the salt and pepper shakers trembling before falling over. "Is that really what you want?" He stepped closer to you when you approached the table, his hands instinctively moving to hold your hips. Holding you close to his body. "No, I didn't get married with the intention of getting a divorce. But you've been neglecting this marriage for a couple months now."

"I'll make it up to you now," Toji spoke quickly, like he was afraid of losing you at any moment. Like you'd disappear if he didn't. And as much as you wanted to avoid looking over at him, the task had just become all that much difficult when you had nowhere else to look at. It only took one glance at his face to realize just what he meant by 'making it up to you.'

"You think you're gonna fix months of pushing me aside with just sex?"

"Nah, I know it's gonna take more. But you've been so tired, isn't that right? So tired of tryin' to keep this marriage from falling apart and nobody taking care of you?" His words were like a siren's song when he whispered them in your ear, your traitorous body leaning back to meet the drag of your fingertips. It was almost laughable at how easily your resolve had melted. "Lemme take care of you mama. Promise I'll make you feel good."

"You wanna call me a dick, never wanna see me again? That's fine, just don't deny me one last taste. Please," And while Toji wasn't a man to beg for anything in his life, he found himself saying the words anyways. "Thought this was you making it up to me," and as much as you were willing yourself not to fold, you felt yourself spreading your legs almost instinctively when his finger dragged up your inner thigh.

"Can't it be both?" Toji's teeth nipped at your neck, licking a stripe up the junction of your neck. Practically salivating at the taste of you, of the expensive perfume you'd put on just a mere hours beforehand. "One could say that you're just being selfish," your words quickly died out when Toji started sucking on your pulse point, your own heartbeat betraying you. You'd expected Toji to sass you back, say something about how your body was just so needy against his touch.

But instead, he dropped down to his knees in front of you. The wooden floor underneath his knees almost made him feel bad for all the times he had you in a similar position. Almost. Toji looked up at you, "Selfish only when it comes to you."

Every slow drag of his fingertips across your smooth skin seemed almost reverent— like you were something to worship. You were, he just failed to realize that until now. Until you were almost out the door. "I'm sorry," the first real apology of the night slipped out of his mouth, his lips pressed against your shin. "I'm sorry," he moved up to your knee, repeating the action. Hushed whispers of I'm sorry's and featherlight kisses moving up your legs, stopping only when he gets to your clothed cunt.

"I'm sorry," Toji uttered his last apology against your cunt, his eyes locking onto yours as he applied an open mouthed kiss on your clothed clit. Barely darting his tongue out, swirling it against the nerves that were just begging for one ounce of stimulation. And he was practically reveling in how needy he made you in the span of seconds. Your back arched to rest against the seat behind you, one of your hands going to rest on his head.

Toji's fingers dragged slowly in between your folds, feeling the wet patch already starting to form through the thin lace material. You refused to make eye contact with him, knowing that if you did, he'd be able to see just how desperate you were in just a manner of seconds. Even if the bastard probably had a clue already. "You sure your pussy agrees with the divorce?" His voice came out to something akin to a purr, the drag of his fingers slowing down.

Getting you even more worked up than you were already. "Fucking hate you, can't even apologize right," you let out a hiss, your hand going down to his hair. Pulling his head even closer to you despite your previous claim. "Fine, I'll apologize correctly," Toji sounded like you were the one inconveniencing him—to which you were. He wanted to take his time with his meal, have you begging for him to touch you. And normally, he would've.

If he weren't desperate to have your cunt on his face again after weeks, months? of just having his fist to work with. His fist and a used pair of your panties up to his nose like a pervert, hips humping the air in desperation. Imagining that it was your tongue flicking across his leaking tip instead of his thumb, that it was your soft hands in exchange of his rough ones. And as easy as it was for him to get laid—he didn't want to be with anyone that wasn't you.

Toji hadn't tasted someone as sweet as you, heard someone so angelic before, but now he supposed that maybe he'd have to put that theory to the test if you left him after all. Just the idea was maddening. That someone else would be doing the same thing that he's doing to you now, that they'd give you the affection that he should've given.

"Especially sorry to you. Been neglecting you for too long," he hooked his fingers around the side of your panties, pulling them to the side just enough to reveal your slick folds to him. Toji swiped the tip of his finger along your entrance, your slick glistening against the harsh kitchen lighting before he stuck in his mouth. Swirling his tongue around it, licking away at it like the slut he was.

And like the deprived man that he'd been, Toji's hands went to the lace of your underwear and stretched it out until a loud rip echoed throughout the kitchen. "You always this wet for people you hate? Or is that just for me?" Toji taunted, pushing your tattered panties down to your ankles. Finally leaning in closer to where you were aching for him to touch you. To do something other than just tease you relentlessly.

Toji settled on his knees behind you, spreading your legs open like you were his favorite meal. His tongue swiped up on your dripping cunt, licking up your essence with sheer greed. "Mmph fuck, so good," his words came out muffled, his tongue swiping across your folds before darting inside of your cunt. Your grip on the table tightened, your hips working on their own accord to push back onto his face. Practically suffocating him in your pussy. Not that he minded. By any means.

Toji practically welcomed it, his hands pushing you down onto his face. Getting absorbed in your cunt completely. "A-Ah fuck, Toji!" You could already see the noise complaint hanging on your front door first thing in the morning. But how could you be expected to keep your voice down? Toji spread your folds apart with two fingers as if he were preparing for a feast, his tongue feverishly licking in between.

"Fuckin' soaked already, knew you loved me," The vibration of the low chuckle that followed his words shot currents up your spine, your ass jiggling all that much more in his face. With such a decadent taste coating his taste buds, dying by your pussy would be nothing short of a blissful way to go out. One of the fingers that he'd been using to spread your folds had been pushed inside of your cunt, your walls clenching around him.

Toji's tongue flicked against your clit, swirling the tip around the bud while his finger slowly pushed further inside of you. The loud squelch of your cunt was the only thing that filled the apartment, everything else completely silent. Your fingers dug deeper into his scalp, a low groan leaving his lips. "F-Fuck, Toji Toji," he pushed another thick finger inside, moving them in a scissoring motion to stretch you out.

"You think y're gonna find someone who can do this?" Toji looked up at you, his fingers curling up to hit that spongy spot inside of you almost perfectly. And if you didn't know any better, you'd almost say that he looked vulnerable while he made the question. Toji's lips wrapped around your clit, gently sucking on it as his fingers worked you closer and closer to your orgasm. You couldn't bring yourself to answer—didn't trust yourself to speak.

"Toji, Toji, gonna cum," you gave him a warning, your jaw falling slack and your lips parting in a o-shape. Soundless moans leaving your lips, feeling that coil in your lower tummy start to tighten up all the much more. With one final pump of his fingers, you were covering his lips with your release. His tongue swiped across his lips, across the scar that he hated, collecting every drop. Savoring what he imagined would be the last taste of you.

"Turn around," It was almost embarrassing how quickly you'd turned around per your soon-to-be ex husband's request.

Toji didn't take more than a couple seconds in unbuttoning his pants and taking them off, his cock hitting his stomach once it was released from its confines. Precum dribbled from his annoyingly almost pretty pink tip, dripping onto the floor. Drip. Drip. Drip. His cock slid through your folds like a slip n slide, your previous orgasm coating his tip with every lazy drag. "Toji," your voice bordered on a whine, pushing your hips to try to meet his movements.

"Tell me what you want," Toji clicked his tongue, one of his hands moving to hold your waist. Keeping you completely still until he got what he wanted. You figured there wasn't any harm in whining—you were already fucking the man after you brought up a divorce. There truly wasn't that much more to lose. "Why do I have to ask for it when you're the one apologizing?"

"Because you're the one pushing your hips back against me. All needy 'n shit. So.. beg."

"Want you inside me, Toji. Please."

"Want?"

You let out a huff before correcting yourself, "Need."

"Come on, doll. You can say it nicer than that, right?" Toji's pointer trailed up your torso, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

So goddamn annoying. You swallowed whatever pride you had left before looking back over at him, "Please, Toji. Need your cock in me. Please."

Toji clicked his tongue, one hand wrapping around his cock and giving himself a couple tentative pumps. "Think you can beg better than that. But since I'm feeling nice, I guess I'll let it slide." So much for feeling apologetic. Toji pushed his cock inside of you in one swift motion, a hiss leaving your lips at the stretch. Even with the fingers that'd been inside of you, nothing could've really prepared you.

"You okay?" Toji dropped his head to rest on your shoulder, whispering the words in your ear. Staying still while your walls tried to adjust to the overwhelming stretch. "You try taking your cock," you muttered dryly, giving him a nod to start moving. "Why would I do that when you take it so well?" Toji pushed the rest of his cock inside, his hands resting on your hips.

Toji wasn't particularly known for being gentle—the one hospital visit after he'd injured your cervix more than enough proof of that, but he started off slow. Slow, shallow thrusts. Fucking you in a way that he hasn't since your honeymoon. "Toji, you can speed up," you assured him, your words getting cut off with a smack to your ass. "What I'd say about tellin' me what to do?" Ah, there was the mean Toji that you recognized.

"Wouldn't need to tell you what to do if my vibrator wasn't looking more appealing right now."

Famous last words.

The change was almost immediate. Mascara dribbled down your cheeks, the sight of your once composed makeup all ruined making Toji's cock twitch inside of you. "Fucking pretty like this, y'know?" His teeth sunk down on the junction of your shoulder, his teeth grazing across the sensitive flesh. His hips snapped roughly into yours, your breathing growing erratic. "Fuck, Fuck, Toji!"

The coldness of his gold wedding band hit your skin as soon as he went to grip your hips, holding you against him like he needed to be close to you. The two of you had been distant for some time and he hadn't bothered to take off his wedding band once, not even on the rare occasion that he actually did happen to take a job. Toji would never admit it, of course—but he was starved for the feeling of your skin against his own.

To confirm that you were still here after all.

Your hands reached out to grab to whatever you could grab—anything, and of course, it just happened to be the divorce papers sitting on the middle of the table. Practically taunting you as your own signature glared back at you. "This good enough for you, princess?" Toji taunted in your ear, his blunt fingernails digging into your sides. "Mhm, j-just like that," your voice came out in a mewl, all bits of defiance completely out of your system.

"There you go. Nasty fucking girl," Toji all but purred in your ear the moment you started to jerk your hips back to meet his own, your ass bouncing with each one of his thrusts. "Just needed Toji to take care of ya," all you could was nod your head fervently, your grip on the divorce papers tightening. And Toji, of course, took notice. He took the papers from you with one hand, giving them a once-over before passing them back over.

"Come on, since ya wanted it so bad, read me those divorce papers," Toji handed you the stack of papers, pointing to where you'd signed your initials just a couple hours prior. Your hands shook as you held the papers, your vision blurry as you tried to make out the legal jargon in front of you. Even the simplest of words seemed all too complicated to try to make out.

"T-Toji, I can't," your voice cracked, your grip on the papers tightening when his cock reached all that much deeper inside of you. Toji clicked his tongue, peering over your shoulder to read the first sentence from the document. "That's not what it says ma, try again."

"Without all the stuttering too."

You took a deep breath, willing yourself to focus on the words in front of you instead of Toji's cock sinking further and further into you. "S-Says that the divorce agreement was made today between us," you clutched the sheets tighter, your eyes almost rolling back when Toji bottomed out inside of you. The tip of his cock dripping precum, your walls fluttering as you tried to get adjusted.

"Mm, yeah, keep goin'," Toji really couldn't care—his focus solely on the way that your cunt stretched out to fit his cock. Leaking around his shaft, loud squelches when he pulled out overplaying whatever shitty soap opera was playing. "And what'd I say about the s-stuttering?" Toji mocked your words, his own hips stuttering mere seconds later while he tried not to get absorbed in your cunt. Not that it was an easy task by any means.

It was hard, especially with the way that you claimed to be over this marriage despite your pussy claiming otherwise. When you opened your mouth to speak, the only thing that left you was a moan. "F-Fuck Toji, right there," your eyes shut tightly at the touch of his calloused hand making itself in between your legs, his thumb rubbing at your clit in a speed that felt like it combated his own running abilities.

"That's not what it says, c'mon," Toji grabbed your chin with his thumb and pointer, turning your head to face the overwhelmingly long divorce papers. You wouldn't finish tonight if he intended for you to read the whole thing, you knew that much. A harsh slap against your swollen clit made the pleasure coursing through your veins mix with pain, a shaky gasp leaving your kiss-swollen lips.

Drool leaked from the corner of your mouth, the black ink smearing with each drop that fell from your parted lips. Your walls enveloped every inch of his cock perfectly, your cunt holding his cock in a vice-like grip. "That I won't try to t-take your things," you managed to get out, hoping that it would be good enough. You knew the two of you wouldn't finish today if he made you read the never ending stack of papers. 

"Good enough," Toji sounded like he would've kept it going if he could, but you set them down as quickly as he spoke. It was almost like Toji was trying to remind you of why you'd fallen in love with him in the first place—the man reverent to your cunt and your cunt only. Every grip of your hips kept you closer and closer to his body, almost as a way for Toji to make sure you weren't slipping away.

"Wh—" Before you had the chance to complain about the loss of contact, Toji had already carried you without a smidge of struggle. His hands hooked underneath your plush thighs, hoisting you up against the wall. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his slutty waist, practically clinging onto him like a koala. "There we go, there's that pretty lil face," Toji placed his pointer underneath your chin, taking in the view in front of him.

The glazed over look in your eyes, the sweat beading up on your forehead, the makeup that he'd successfully ruined—everything about you was just so beautiful. How you tried to avoid looking in his direction for too long. "Don't leave me ma, need you in my life," the words were whispered into your ear, his cock pushing back inside of you in one swift motion. Toji's fingers went back to your throbbing clit, his pointer and middle rubbing against it at the perfect speed.

Not too fast, not too slow, and not too rough.

"Don't ask me to do that," you almost sounded pained as you spoke—not from him filling you up, but for the implication of his words. You'd practically babble anything right now, anything for him to keep going. To forget about the reality that awaits the two of you. Toji's lips found yours in an instant, the exchange between the two of you almost depraved. His mouth was feverish in the way that it moved against yours, like he'd never get the chance again.

Your hand went to the back of his head, pushing him closer against you. Letting yourself forget for just a little while longer. A string of saliva connected your lips to his when you pulled away—only to catch air. "I’m close, Toji, so close," you whined against his lips, your release coating his shaft a mere moments later. Toji only used that as lubricant, his movements quicker against your cunt to chase his own release.

"There's no one else for me, I'll stop goin' to t-the casino, stop gettin' into trouble," Toji had been reduced to a babbling the first thing he pulled out of his ass, if only to get you to stay. His head rested against the junction of your neck, basking in the remnants of proximity that he could get. Shaky breaths left his lips with each thrust of his hips, feeling himself getting closer and closer. "You've been saying that since we've been married."

"I mean it this time, I promise," you'd never heard a lie sound so pretty slipping from someone's lips before until now.

He bit down on the side of your neck, hard. Not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to where you'd probably have to use a tube of concealer to even attempt to cover up the bruising mark. Causing you problems even now. But you'd be lying if the sudden act of possessiveness had your walls clenching against him even tighter, if that was even possible anymore.

His cock was barely moving against the tight grip you held around his shaft, his pace stuttering. "Fuck, fuck, so tight," Toji let out a loud groan, completely at the will of your pussy. He threw his head back, a light shade of pink dusting his cheeks in this lighting. Ropes and ropes of cum decorated your cunt, his softening length snug inside of you. Toji ended up pulling out a couple moments later, scooping the drops of cum that leaked down your thighs with his finger.

Toji was shameless in the way that he stuck the finger in his mouth, a low moan leaving his lips at the combined taste of him and you. Before your rationality came back, before you got the chance to even think about regretting this, you leaned in and crashed your lips against his own. Tasting yourself on his tongue. The kiss lingered between the two of you more than it needed to, it was less rushed than the prior ones you'd shared.

Like a last taste.

"So, you still want to get that divorce?" Toji knew you would've just babbled whatever for him to keep going, saving the question until now. His movements were almost reluctant as he pulled his pants over his legs once again, making little attempt to fix up his hair. If anything, his fingers only ended up messing the strands even more. Despite knowing the answer deep down, Toji still held out hope. That maybe you'd had some eye-opening moment while he was balls-deep.

You stood up properly, looking over at the ruined sheets on the table before looking back over at him. "I do," you spoke after a couple seconds, grabbing your tattered panties from the floor and smoothing over your dress. Trying to maintain whatever semblance of dignity you had left. Even if it was probably just as tattered up as your underwear at this point.

"Why? You know I love you. You know that you love me. So why should we get separated?" You did know that. But you also weren't sure that he'd ever loved you enough to consider changing. To consider the fact that you needed some sort of affection outside of sex.

"Because you think that somehow every problem between us can be resolved with sex. You say that you want to do better and yet, you never do. It doesn't even feel like you're my husband half of the time," all the bottled up feelings from the past couple months spilled out of you in a manner of seconds. All the bottled up thoughts that maybe you should've told your husband about earlier. Though, you weren't even sure if Toji would've paid it any mind.

And almost as if he'd read your train of thought, "Why didn't you tell me about all this before just hittin' me with divorce papers?"

"Because the few times that I did, you told me to stop bitching. That I shouldn't have anything to complain about with a roof over my head and a fridge full of food," you started off, almost waiting for him to deny what you were saying, "And while I'm not saying that I'm not thankful for those things, I also don't want to feel ungrateful for saying that I miss my husband."

Silence lingered between the two of you, each second that passed by only confirming what the two of you already knew by now. That a divorce wasn't such a far-fetched idea. Toji knew there wasn't left to even attempt fighting for, so he simply just told you, "I'll sign 'em when you get the new ones."

[canihaveacalmtime]

Sitting on the swings at the playground, all alone by yourself, while the sun just started setting down in the distance. You wonder why the playground is so empty today, no one is nowhere to be seen but does that matter to you right now? Your mother forgotten to come pick you up again, it's not like this is the first time.

It happens... everyday to be honest.

You understand that she's really busy with her job but that doesn't mean she... she can neglect you.

You understand that because of you, her husband left her, thinking that she cheated on him and you're the child of her and another man. You're still confident that your mother didn't cheat and maybe your father really just didn't wanted her or you anymore as all he ever cares for was your brother and big sister, both who are very successful in the acting industry.

Or simply maybe because... you look exactly like mother and father just doesn't want a child who doesn't resembles him in anything.

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"Let's go home, (Y/N)."

You said to yourself as you got down from the swing and begin walking your 6 years old body back home.

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Open the door to your house, which was not locked for some reason, you see your mother and some what familiar man sitting in front of her. {Just a guest}, you thought but as soon as you closed the front door, you feel someone lifted you up in a quick pace.

It was your mother and... she's crying?

"Oh my god, (Y/N)... where have you been, I've looked for you everywhere when the teacher said you left school early..!"

But you told her to pick you up at the playground nearby... maybe she just forgot, probably. She always forget things you told her anyway.

"Sorry for making you worried, mother."

She kiss you on the forehead before carry you to the couch where the man is sitting. After putting you down, she ask you if you can show him the birth mark you have on your right shoulder and you agreed.

"There, you see it now. I mean the DNA test is probably enough already but... she is really our daughter, you know."

DNA test? Our daughter? What's going on even, you ask yourself as you adjust your clothes back to normal. The man then crouched down to your level and pat your head, he explains that he's your biological father and that he's here to fix some troubles between him and your mother. He carefully embrace you into a hug as he apologize for abandoning you and your mother these 6 years.

The hug ends as you stare at him, unfazed, completely devoid of emotions as you just nod lightly. Upon seeing your emotionless face, your father was put into a worried situation while your mother seems troubled.

"(Y/N) dear, you understand what your father said, right?" Your mother asked, you nod. "We going to move to your father's place tomorrow, okay?" You nod again.

"Alix, let's talk... for a bit more. (Y/N), can you go to your room to start packing your stuffs and get ready for dinner?"

You nod, carry your school bag upstairs, not even bother to look back at your parents.

"How long has she been like that?" Alix, your father, ask in worried.

"Over a year ago... probably. I will take the fault as the reason why she became like that, I've always been too busy and... I couldn't stop blaming her for our divorce and- I'm just being a really bad mother to her."

"Dolores, dear. (Y/N) looks older than her age, I'm sure she understands but I just hope that we can start making up to her and give her a better life from now on together, alright?"

Dolores, your mother, nods while sobbing. She hate herself for being such a bad parent to you and ended up turning you into a wounded child who probably spent 6 years all alone by yourself. Alix is no different, he also hopes to give you the best life he could now that he's reunited again with you and your mother.

.

.

.

Dinner tonight isn't just you and your mother but now having your father for the first time. It does feel a little weird for you having another person on the dining table. Usually it would just be you eating alone or occasionally your mother if she was home soon that day. You also noticed that they look at you more a lot while eating, you don't complain or say anything but kept it in mind.

Alix was lost in thoughts. Usually at this age, children will always be the talker at the dining table because they tend to share their experiences at school with their family but now, looking at you, just sitting there quietly eating like that, hurts him.

"So (Y/N)... do you have anything cool at school to share with us?"

That's the first time someone has asked you that, "We study the subjects and... that's it". You stare at them, waiting for the next question.

"So... how about your recess time with friends?"

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.

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"I don't have friends, mother. I'm a loner and you know that too, though."

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After dinner, without no more conversations, you say good night to your parents and retrieve back to your room, wanting to sleep soon as tomorrow is the weekend and you will move to a new place with your mother.

"Will my siblings like me? Probably not, no one likes a loner, people in school always say that, aren't they."

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There will be a part 2, maybe turn into a series too. 50/50 yk yk.

[sacramentohistorymuseum]

We like to print materials from our collections for videos but we like to have some relevancy to the videos. One of the ways we do this is to find national “holidays” to help highlight certain woodcuts, electrotypes, photo engravings, and typeset phrases. This video is a little more personal though because this video is for Howard’s birthday. We are not allowed to say exactly when but it is sometime in late July.

For today, Jared letterpress printed the perfect woodcut for this occasion. We received this woodcut in the mail a couple years ago from Mark who lives in Saskatchewan, Canada. Thank you, Mark, for helping to highlight this day. The woodcut includes a caricature of Howard with a globe in the background. The text on the print states, Every day is ... INTERNATIONAL HOWARD HATCH DAY Loved ‘round the world!” This was printed with black rubber base ink using our Washington hand press.

[romanoffsbish]

Method Acting

Scarlett Johansson x F!R

Request | When your friend gives you the leading role in her debut sapphic rom-com you find yourself elated, but then you see who her star-studded casting managed to be and suddenly you aren’t too sure what to do. How does one work with their crush in such intimate ways and not swoon further? | WC: 2,516

Smut: Masturbation (R) — Non-con 👀 (SJ) | Mommy (SJ) | Oral / Fingering (R) | Thigh-Riding (SJ) | Overstimulation (R)

18+ | Minors DNI

"Where'd all that confidence go, hm?" You gulped, not only to remain in character, but because Scarlett was literally hovering over your body and it was like the air around you'd thinned. Your head felt light, but you still managed to stutter out your line, "I-It was a r-ruse."

Bentley chuckled, "You know, I don't think I mind," then she lowered her smirking face into the crook of your neck, your breath dramatically hitched, and you threw your head back to give her the necessary space to leave behind her pale pink gloss for the camera to see.

——

This was meant to be acting, but she wasn't exactly not sucking a partial mark into your skin, fortunately it was hidden from any lens viewpoint, and it only really added to the scene as you moaned out affectedly.

"There you go Raina," she rasped against your cheek, smearing her collected spit and gloss on the skin. "I knew you'd be a perfect little dove for your mommy, you just needed me to help dumb you down, hm..."

You whimpered the title inquisitively, giving off the characters innocent girl aura as her lips clashed into yours, but deep in your soul you wanted to scream it.

Well, for the blonde starlet that is, Scarlett was nothing short of a goddess, her beauty perceivably effortless. It came with many perks, one of those being the ability to have people figuratively crumble before her. You had actually done so physically when you first shook her hand, it was embarrassing and she's teased you since.

When she wasn't teasing you though she was a natural nurturer. There was a calmness she brought to your anxious life that you were going to miss when filming inevitably comes to an end. Which was actually taking place this week, today you were working on the climax.

Bentley, her character, finally had a chance to corner Raina so that she could finally prove her love with the length of her fingers. Up until now your character had been avoiding Bentley as they were forced to see one another at the weekend long reception of a mutual.

Maritza, the director, screenwriter, and best friend of yours wanted the sex to feel real, so she is letting you two feel it out in a set of scenes. Scarlett appreciated the artistic creativity, because she wanted nothing more than to bring you to bliss, even if only fictionally as she knew the cameras were rolling. You genuinely liked the idea of an organic, sapphic scene too, but you just wished it could have been with any other actress.

Not the one you were recklessly falling in love with.

"Cut!" The director called after she felt there was enough tension, and kissing caught for the scene. She was also your very best friend, and knew you were likely spiraling beneath the surface; below Scarlett.

As soon as the director gave you the all clear for the night you took off without even sparing the blonde a glance. Months on this set with her and she'd teased you every step of the way, playing on your obvious crush, the one you'd publicized just a year ago.

"Y/N, who's your celebrity crush?" It was an easy question to answer, and since you were such a newcomer in the acting world it felt harmless to give them one, "Scarlett Johansson, she is just so gorgeous, and that voice of hers is just, ugh, don't even get me started." Or so you thought. Because not even three months later did you find out she'd be playing the love interest in this low-budget, cheesy sapphic rom-com.

The blonde was absolutely ecstatic when she got the script in her email because it came with your name attached. This was your closest friend's script, so you were given the lead without any issues, except for the casting. Without you ever knowing she took a shot in the dark by sending it to the woman who'd grown interested in you the moment she saw you in that interview. When you got the casting news you were mortified, and the blonde used that to her advantage.

There was no denying you meant it when she arrived on set for the chemistry read through, you were a bit of a stuttering mess—true to the character, but it was clear to the blonde that you were just being yourself. Scarlett played the part a bit too well, but she still kept it hidden that she desired you too. Until tonight she'd believed it was never going to go anywhere, but then you moaned in her ear and she realized it had to.

You weren't the only one affected by the small scene.

Scarlett was outside your trailer, her fingers flexed against the chill of the air as she prepared herself to knock on your door. It was Thursday night, normally she would go home, but she knew you were staying on the lot to cut costs so she felt compelled to stop by.

Without an answer she took it upon herself to open the door, noting her worry as the excuse for why she did. When she entered the trailer she was overwhelmed by a heady scent, and as she turned the corner to find you with your hand buried between your legs she'd found the delightful source. Scarlett said nothing as her body leaned against the wall, eyes focused in on the way your puffy lips devoured three of your fingers whole.

"Scarlett..."

The blonde's eyes snapped up to your face, fearing that she'd been caught, but it proved to be the other way around as you moaned her name upon releasing.

"My character's name is Bentley," she cooly teased, startling you into yelping and scrambling to grab the blanket that had bunched up by the end of your bed. Scarlett beat you to it, taking a predatory leap forward so that she could keep you from hiding your body. "None of that baby girl, don't hide from me now."

"S-Scar," you breathlessly muttered her name, or better yet part of it as she cupped your jaw and kissed you into a state of stunned silence. "Let's practice our scene for tomorrow darling, make it extra authentic."

"I-I don't think—." Scarlett slipped her thumb into your mouth, pressing down on your teeth to still you. "Oh, pretty girls like you should never try to think."

When she released her grip on your mouth she'd forcefully pushed you back onto the mattress, making your body bounce and driving your mind into madness all while she slipped out of her sweatsuit. The arousal you'd already felt doubled in intensity, mind alit with the endless possibilities for how this could go. Your mouth slowly filled with saliva as she sauntered closer to you while only dressed in her expensive lingerie set.

"You're so beautiful," you softly acknowledged and she offered you a genuine smile in return. Her lips gently pressed to yours as soon as she climbed over you and you both melted at the touch. "Thank you angel."

Scarlett took her time with kissing you, she didn't even move to deepen it until she felt your slick on her skin.

"I'm going to devour you Raina," she winked playfully and you met her tease with a smile that warmed her heart. "Make my dreams come true then Bentley."

Something about hearing her characters name didn't sit well with her, even if she had started the play on words, joking shoved aside she needed you to know this was more than a over the top scene preparation.

Scarlett pulled your body down the mattress by your ankles, throwing your legs open she took in a big whiff as her nose nuzzled into your plush thigh. "It seems I'll be making both of ours come true," she laboredly breathed against your slick cunt, "Just as long as you know there's no copyright on Scarlett," she winked and husked as your eyes widened, "Scream it for me Y/N."

"Oh Scarlett," you cried as soon as her tongue firmed itself against your folds, a long, drawn out moan left her as she tasted your glorious slick for the first time. The both of you were immensely pleased, your body began to squirm the more you felt your orgasm build. Her arm had to lay against your abdomen to hold you down so that her tongue could lash at you unchecked.

Your pleasure was entirely under her control, and the thought alone had the both of you teetering over the edge, ready to fall further into one another. Scarlett was unsure how that was even possible though, she'd loved you after a month into the filming, on a night when cast and crew rented out the local bar and she actually went regardless of her star power status. It was the only time you'd talked to her so openly, the booze in your system dropped your nerves and you let her hear all of your hometown childhood stories.

There was a twinkle of purity in your eye that she found refreshing that night, but this new glossy look you wore was far more enticing to the blonde starlet.

You looked almost peaceful, but beneath the surface you were absolutely losing your mind. Her masterful tongue was showing your fingers up in real time, your hot slick flowing out of you as if you were a leaking faucet, slowly dripping down from her chin and settling atop of the exposed skin of her bare breasts.

Which only made her move with more efficiency, her tongue slowly curled inside of you, caressing your g-spot as the tip of her nose pressed into your clit and you lost control of your every sense. Gasping for air as pleasure coursed through your trembling form, blurry white stars filled your vision as your eyes crossed and the taste of something metallic coated your tongue as you harshly bit down on your lower lip before you were screaming incoherently, her name sinfully intermixed.

You felt her smirk against your thigh and couldn't help but to smile yourself as you felt her kiss up your body with a softness that transcended all prior carnality. There was this break in the tension as she tenderly locked her lips to yours, tongues dancing around the other as her hands anchored to your chest, fondling the malleable skin as if it was second nature. Soft whines reverberated into her mouth the longer that she played with your sensitive breasts as she kissed you dumb.

Eventually the blonde felt this intense urge to satiate her own body, so she pulled back and you whimpered. "Fuck, you're so hot Y/N," she groaned as she stared at you, so beautifully spaced out, the thin line of spit tethering your lips together snapped as she grinned.

"You know, you're my celebrity crush too," she teased, finding amusement in the way you tried to shimmy away from her, but her hands firmly pressed down, keeping your body stilled by her grip on your breasts.

"Don't try and run now darling," she purred against your neck, her face having dipped down so that she could finish the job she started during your shoot.

"Scar, th-the movie," you warned but she simply didn't care, the woman chuckled against your skin, "Oh love, you know as well as I do that make up can cover this, plus, this is really just us aiding the film, you know?"

Scarlett continued on bruising your soft skin with her teeth as you couldn't, nor did you really want to, find a reason to dissuade her from her current ministrations. Just as soon as she was satisfied with her hard work she flipped you onto your stomach without warning.

A low moan left the both of you as her cunt touched down, your body shivered as her slick smeared onto the back of your thigh, the idea that you'd turned her on that much hadn't even permeated your mind until now and with the physical evidence you felt powerful. Even if she was on top, you aided her by tensing your muscles to which she rewarded you with a hoarse moan and two fingers that slid between your slick lips.

The both of your bodies moved in steamy tandem, your front being pressed further into the mattress with every rough thrust of her fingers and hips. The room soon became a lewd symphony as your skin slapped together and the both of your slick seeped and spread, all working to drown out your soft, choked moans.

With her free hand no longer on your hip you were thrown further into the depths of pleasure as her palm roughly pressed down on your abdomen just as her fingers reached your depth, your body jerked but she just kept going down until she could play with your clit.

"Mommy," you screamed the desired honorific, it almost sounded like a plea for mercy, but the blonde had none to show you, she instead slid a third finger into your core causing you to spasm uncontrollably. Which in turn tensed your muscles up even further, and sent her into a state of immense bliss, her teeth instinctively sunk into your shoulder and drew blood.

Her body had arched back then dropped to the side of yours in a matter of seconds, her fingers stayed buried within your warmth, almost like a place of comfort. It took you far longer than her to regain your composure as this was actually your fifth orgasm of the evening. The other two having happened before she caught you.

Nevertheless, you were able to form a sentence as you felt her fingers vacate your pussy, "W-what was this?"

Scarlett had been shifting to a place of comfort when your disconcerting question was aired, you caught her completely off guard but upon settling her cheek down on your bare ass she hummed softly in thought. Then as she really thought about it, imagining a future where you'd part ways after filming ended, she frowned.

"You're mine," she tiredly growled against the sweaty skin of your ass, her teeth nibbled at the round flesh as she gave you her answer (demand). "Then, now, the point is you'll always be mine Y/N so get comfortable."

"I'm plenty comfortable," you murmured, words a bit muffled as your face burrowed into your silky pillow. Scarlett smiled to herself, her heart officially settled now that she knows you understood; you were hers, this sinful endeavor was her official sealing of a deal.

Her worn down body sidled up by your side, still her strong arm wrapped around your midsection so that she could pull you close enough for her to feel your body against hers. "Goodnight baby girl, I think we've done enough work to ensure the scene will be a hit..."

—

When tomorrow came, and the scene was shot you two found it only took one go as the sexual chemistry was palpable. Maritza had winked, and mouthed a 'your welcome' thinking that you'd just won the blonde over, but unbeknownst to her this was just an encore...

Or as the sapphics would simply call it, round two.

[chevroletdean]

you always meet twice ── ✮⋆˙🥃📞

pairing: dean x gn!reader genre: fluff, dash of angst if you squint to note/warnings: set around season 10, mentions of the mark of cain, dean being a grumpy old man, cute first meetings, miscommunication word count: 2.8k

a/n: this is random, i just wanted to write more fluff, since you guys were so nice about the last one. thank you again, i didn't expect so much positive feedback!

He swore that that giggle of yours could soften a demon’s black heart. He should know, having been one himself not too long ago.

You flashed him one last mesmerizing smile and slid something across the counter before you turned around and left the bar. His eyes lingered on you until you were through the door and out of sight. Only then did he dare to glance down towards your little goodbye gift, which he swiftly grabbed and carried back to Sam’s booth.

“Seriously?” Sam scoffed, the crooked grin on his lips reflecting a mixture of disbelief and belittling. “What is this, the 2000s?”

None of that seemed to bother his older brother, who was all toothy, boyish grin and lit up eyes as he proudly flaunted the napkin in front of Sam’s nose. Numbers were scribbled on it in black ink, clearly a phone number.

Was it a little old-fashioned? Maybe, but didn’t that make it all the more charming? Dean certainly seemed to think so and even though it must’ve been about 10 years or so ago since he last had anyone write their number down for him like this, he thought he deserved a sliver of joy.

“They even wrote ‘xoxo’ next to it, dude,” Dean boasted. “What’s that mean again, love and hearts or whatever?”

“Hugs and kisses, Dean. It means hugs and kisses,” Sam corrected him with a sigh. His brother was a lost cause.

The little symbols were about as cheesy as the act of the whole number on a napkin thing and Dean was eating it up with a giddiness that could only be matched by a lovesick teenager. You’d think after about two decades of acting like a flirtatious heartthrob, he’d either mature or be harder to impress.

“Either way,” Dean beamed proudly, “I’m still in the game.”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up, but he refrained from any witty remarks and settled for a snort instead. It’s been a while since he’s seen Dean’s lips curled upwards – after a couple of rough weeks and many setbacks, it was good to see him smile again.

He’s been to hell and back, literally and figuratively, and after all the worrying about the Mark of Cain, recovering from being a literal demon, and the usual apocalyptic sense of dread, who was Sam to deny him his fun?

Turns out he’d have his little moment ruined hours later anyway, and not even by Sam or any of his teasing comments.

He must’ve slept horribly or maybe the lack of leads in this case was starting to frustrate him.

It was unclear what exactly caused the switch to flip, but the grin from last evening that had reached from one ear to another was nowhere to be seen anymore. Ever since they left the motel and drove into town, he was back to his grumpy self.

Sam nearly flinched as Dean slammed the door of the Impala shut a little harsher than necessary. Dean’s brows were furrowed in frustration as he practically stomped into the diner. His little brother followed suit, barely making it through the door while it was still open. They took a seat and ordered some breakfast.

Despite knowing he wouldn’t get an explanation, Sam tried anyway.

“What’s up with you today?”

Dean shot him a glare that not only signaled he’d refuse to answer, but could also suffice for straight up daggers. He took a demonstratively large gulp of his coffee. “Can we just focus on the case, Sammy?”

Focus on the case was rarely what Dean wanted to do, not when he had a potential fling going on anyway. Which could only mean one thing.

“No luck with your napkin sweetheart?” Sam teased, seemingly hitting a sore spot as Dean slammed the coffee cup back onto the table with a clatter.

“The case, Sam,” he repeated insistently.

Right on the money then. What else would rile him up into such an irritable mood?

Giving in — albeit he did a terrible job at concealing a gloating grin —, Sam booted up his laptop and went through the files. It was all pretty straightforward: Bunch of people went missing over the past few days, one of their bodies having turned up with their blood drained. Vampires, likely, though Sam and Dean had yet to find the nest or talk to anyone in relation to the victims.

“There’s this one college student that went missing two days ago, usually never misses a class or a shift at their part-time-job,” Sam spoke and turned the laptop around for Dean to look at the missing person alert. “We could split up, talk to one of their professors and a coworker.”

“Fabulous,” Dean grumbled, using his fork to stab holes into his slice of pie. His mind was clearly elsewhere. Presumably on a certain someone he had met last night – and was stood up by, apparently.

“Seriously, what happened?” Sam half-groaned, half-grinned. There was some genuine concern in his voice. Even if the situation was kind of amusing – it didn’t happen often that someone was able to humble Dean like this –, he knew his brother was on edge already.

Anger and bottling up feelings were always his specialty, but with the Mark of Cain still attached to his arm, they should probably not risk any major stress.

Dean grumbled something inaudible, half of his words swallowed by the coffee cup, the rim of which was pressed against his lips. Sam only thought he heard something along the lines of ‘wrong number’ and gave a confused “What was that?” in response.

“Whatever,” Dean groaned. “Any contacts, an address?”

Sam nodded and told him the address of the coworker. With Dean’s shitty mood, he’d rather not bring him to campus to scare away any freshmen. So, they separated for the time being, Sam heading to the university while Dean made his way to that address downtown.

On his way there, he fished for his phone again. And the napkin.

He had tried to dial the number earlier this morning and (much to his obvious dismay) the call had not gone through. He typed it in again, number for number, double-checking each digit individually. Maybe he had somehow gotten it mixed up in his half sleepy state earlier?

‘The number you have called is not available. Please check the number and dial again. The number you have called is n–’

Dean definitely didn’t get it wrong, comparing the number on his screen and the napkin again.

With a scoff, he shoved his phone back into his pocket, exchanging it for his F.B.I. badge instead. Grumbling to himself, his feet dragged him past a picket fence – each step heavy-footed – and up a porch, where he rang the doorbell.

As for why you’d trick him like that by giving him a wrong number, was beyond him. You could’ve just said no when he asked for your contacts, so why go through the hassle to be this mean about a rejection?

Unless he somehow had made you uncomfortable last night, although he could not for the love of it remember anything but your bright smile throughout the whole conversation. In fact, you had eagerly nodded when he offered to buy you another drink.

The soft creaking of the door disrupted his thoughts. By default habit, he already held up his badge, deciding to focus on the task at hand. Sam would be giving him a handful if he got too distracted during a case.

“Special Agent Murray, could I–?”

His introduction died on his tongue as his gaze fell upon a dazzling and oddly familiar smile. A heartbeat later and said smile vanished from those lips, which then twisted into a surprised O-shape.

“I don’t remember writing my address down,” you chuckled. Nervously. But not the kind of nervousness he would’ve expected from someone who had practically dumped him in the shittiest way possible.

The quip itself was somehow unfitting, considering those circumstances.

Who knew the coworker of the victim would be you, of all people, in a rather big town like this?

“Special Agent, huh?” Your smile was back on your lips, the intrigued spark in your eyes resembling that of last evening, and confusing him only further. “Am I in trouble, did I commit a crime?”

If handing out false numbers was a crime—

Dean cleared his throat and averted his gaze. He briefly fidgeted around with his badge, struggling to put it away again. Maybe that extra cup of coffee at the diner earlier was a mistake. As if it wasn’t already awkward enough. He wasn’t keen on making a fool out of himself further, so he decided to get this job over with as quickly as possible.

“I have a few questions about Daniel Anderson,” he said, tone dry as bone and honestly, rather hostile. “I take it you are his coworker?”

You blinked up at him, your smile fading once more. It was almost as if you were half-intimidated by his grumpy demeanor, but did you really expect a warm reunion?

“Uhm, yeah,” you mumbled, almost meekly, and opened the door further, stepping aside to make room for him. “Come on in, please. Would you like some coffee?”

Dean was led to the living room, where you gestured towards the seating options – a small couch and an armchair. Even though he just had about a gallon of it, he accepted your offer and settled on the couch.

While you were busy in the kitchen, he glanced around the room. A small but cozy living space and a pair of shoes kicked into the corner of the entrance that he definitely recognized. So you weren’t some lost twin of last night’s encounter.

“Excuse the mess,” you chuckled shyly, again with a warmth that exceeded his expectations. “I mean, you know how it is, I got home pretty late last night and have not had the chance to clean up yet.”

How come you were able to brush off this palpable tension with such ease? He was practically dying on the inside here while you, without hesitation, sat down next to him instead of the armchair and handed him the cup of coffee.

Dean once again cleared his throat, taking a sip of your coffee – as if somehow the caffeine could counteract his nerves instead of fray them further.

“About Mr. Anderson,” he began, clearly not wanting to dive into the topic of last night. If he didn’t know it any better, he swore he could see a flicker of disappointment in your eyes.

Your answers to his questions matched what Sam already found out. Your coworker was last seen coming to work three days ago, punctual as always, then wasn’t seen again. Apparently he had been the last to leave the office, which wasn’t unusual, since he’d often work overtime. A diligent guy, from the sounds of it, despite working only minimum wage and managing his studies at the same time.

“I thought I haven’t seen you around town before,” you hummed, eyeing him up and down briefly in a way that made him feel naked despite his suit. “No wonder, if you’re a federal agent working a case here. I gotta say, you can pull off a tie just as much as the flannel.”

That caught Dean off guard for several reasons. One being the fact that you were even more assertive when sober, apparently. The more obvious one, however, remained your previous rejection of course. He could not wrap his head around the concept of you flirting with him now.

You in no way looked anything remotely guilt ridden or embarrassed. If anything, your responses to his gruff attitude were mellow in fashion. And you still subtly brushed your knee against his despite everything. Were you messing with him?

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” you mumbled, hesitant for the first time today. “You can show up at my doorstep, but you can’t give me a call?”

Huh?

His widened eyes and the deadpan silence in the room seemed to go straight over your head.

“Well, I guess you’re busy with work,” you sighed with a crooked grin on your lips. “You should’ve told me, giving a special agent your number is kind of embarrassing.”

That was your problem, his line of work? Well, in that regard, he couldn’t be too hypocritical. He was as much of a special agent as your number was real, after all. Still, he was done with your games.

“I did give you a call,” Dean huffed. “Or tried to anyway, but you already figured that, I bet.”

Now it was your time to look all puzzled, at least until Dean pulled out phone and pocket. He dialed your number and put his phone on speaker. If in some twisted joke the third time would be the charm now, he’d feel really stupid.

But as expected, the error announcement came through the speaker once more: ‘The number you have called is not available. Please check the number and dial again.’

The color drained from your face first, before a redness crept up your neck. Your gaze flickered back and forth between Dean’s phone and his glare.

Then you burst out into laughter. Your cheeks were flushed in a bright pink while you hastily scrambled to find your own phone.

“You think this is funny, sweetheart?” Dean sighed, damn near pouting.

You didn’t reply, just snatched the napkin out of his hands. Your fingers were warm against his, since you had them wrapped around your own coffee mug moments earlier.

“Double-awkward, I gave a special agent the wrong number, oops,” you giggled and facepalmed.

Oops?

Dean was about to retort something, clearly unappreciative of the way you were still trying to make up excuses.

But you remained unfazed. More than unfazed: You reached out to his lapel, those warm fingers of yours wrapping around the pen in his chest pocket. All he could do was stay frozen in place as you crossed out the last two digits on the napkin and rewrote them above – in reverse order.

“You switched them up,” he mumbled, more of a realization than a question.

“I get clumsy when I’m nervous,” you smiled softly, rubbing the back of your neck and nodding apologetically.

You did not fail to notice how Dean’s eyes lit up again. That scowl, the harsh line on his forehead, they melted away. Some of that boyish, cheeky grin replaced his gruff facade.

“Nervous,” he echoed and his smug smirk confirmed his returned confidence. He had made you nervous last evening, huh?

“What did you think I needed that second whiskey sour for,” you giggled with that gentle edge that turned his heart into mush.

He knew right away that he wanted to see you like this more often, flustered, because of him no less. Enough to give you trouble thinking straight.

“How about you run a test-call, just to make sure I didn’t mix it up again,” you suggested.

It took him a solid three or so seconds to process your words and then he flinched, fumbling around with his inner pockets in too obvious of a desperation. Once again, he cleared his throat, realizing this must’ve been the dozenth time or so you got him this flustered. You really knew how to keep someone on their toes, whether it was on purpose or not, huh?

Dean dialed the updated number and surely enough, the buzzing vibration of your phone eased his anxiety once and for all.

“And here I was, thinking you were trying to mess with me,” he laughed breathlessly, to which your smile softened into a pout. Clearly you weren’t fond of the idea of upsetting him in this manner.

At least for a split second, before it widened into a mischievous smirk.

“I don’t know if that would go against the law,” you hummed teasingly, “But I’m an upstanding citizen and if you were to arrest me, I’d hope it would be under different circumstances.”

With that and a wink, you took the empty cups from the coffee table and made your way to the kitchen again. Like last night, Dean was left letting his gaze follow you until you weren’t to be seen anymore. As he snapped out of it, he stood up and headed towards the entrance.

“Call me if you hear anything from Daniel,” you smiled at him as you hurried to open the door for him. “Or, you know, in general.”

Dean chuckled briefly, the first time he’s laughed properly today, and gave you a nod. On his way out, he practically skipped his steps down the porch, to which you couldn’t help but grin.

By the time Dean met up with Sam again, he was humming happily to himself. Sam raised an eyebrow at his sunshine-giddy brother, scanning him up and down.

“What happened to you?”

“I’m still in the game, Sammy.”

links/credits: ao3 ──〃★ dividers ──〃★ request here taglist: comment with a green heart 💚if you want to be added to the dean x reader taglist from now on

[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [1]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Teaser | Fic Masterlist | Part 2

Park Seonghwa.

As pretty as it may sound, that name was known across the nation as the intimidating military general trusted by His Majesty, the King, to lead the royal army.

For those who have not had the privilege of encountering him in person, the assumption might be of a rugged and perhaps middle-aged individual, given his extensive experience on the battlefield and high military rank. And those who have met him will know that his beauty was just as deadly.

But there's more to it – his renown extends beyond the confines of martial prowess. The general has garnered a reputation for scaring away all potential marriage candidates. His cold nature isn't limited to the battlefield; it extends to his personal life, affecting even the people closest to him.

In essence, Seonghwa was not a figure most people would look forward to meeting at all. If anything, most tended to avoid him like the plague. His name alone was enough to instil terror, be it in enemies, common folk, or even nobles.

But he was more than fine with it.

The general took pleasure in the fear that gripped anyone crossing his path. He had no interest in being loved or admired. The bloodshed inherent in his job brought him ample satisfaction, and the accompanying title and wealth were merely added perks.

One thing that irked him more than anything else was the King's relentless insistence that he should marry.

You see, he lacked the capacity for love, having grown up devoid of any such affection. All he cared for was his own survival. He understood, more than anyone, that trust was a rare commodity on this earth. Those close to him always harboured their own motives. The concept of genuine love or care was as good as non-existent in his dictionary.

His parents, if they could even be called that, abandoned him by a dumpster outside an orphanage. Born prematurely and deemed likely to die soon, they left him for dead. However, his determination to survive surpassed all expectations. He fought through the years and emerged as the person he is today.

Seonghwa's entire childhood was marked by brawls fighting for survival and to earn a living. But then fate took a turn when a perceptive military soldier scouted him, recognising the untapped potential within.

Rising from the bottom, his borderline cold-blooded character propelled him swiftly up the ranks, achieving remarkable progress within just a couple of years. His notoriety soon echoed in the ears of the King, and almost in the blink of an eye, he ascended to become one of the youngest generals in history.

And that was how he learned, through the hard way, that one would have to be useful in order to be valued. He has seen enough to understand it was a dog-eat-dog world.

The King favoured him solely for his skills, his servants stuck around for the generous pay, and every potential spouse presented to him was merely interested in his wealth or title.

This time would be no different.

"Seonghwa-yah, you're not young anymore, my boy. It's time for you to get married and have a few kids. Otherwise, who would succeed you? It would be such a shame for your bloodline to die with you." His Majesty said, a concerned frown creasing his wrinkled forehead.

The general lowered his head to conceal the smirk on his face. See? That's exactly what he meant. One would be foolish to believe that the King genuinely wanted the best for him; all the old man cared about was ensuring the continuation of his legacy.

Before Seonghwa could present another argument, as he always did, the King raised a hand to halt him, "That's enough; you have rejected all my previous proposed matches and deliberately scared off some of your betrothed as well. I may have been too lenient with you. This time, you will get married, and that's final."

He gripped the hilt of his sword in frustration, "But, your Majesty—"

The King shook his head, "Seonghwa, you will be stripped of your title if you do not cooperate."

That was enough to silence him.

He had worked tirelessly to reach his current position; it would be stupid to jeopardise it all over a refusal to marry. The whole idea seemed utterly outrageous; the old man must be senile to be threatening him over something so trivial.

But what choice did he have?

None.

"Fine, as you wish." The general sighed.

His Majesty's demeanour swiftly changed, breaking into laughter and applause, "Oh, that's wonderful! We already have a perfect candidate for you anyway. The Minister of Military Affairs has offered his eldest daughter's hand. I'm sure she would make a lovely wife for you."

"Has he now? How thoughtful of him."

Seonghwa wasn't stupid; he recognised that the minister harboured resentment regarding his recent ascent in the ranks. The old fool was undoubtedly anxious about preserving his own position and was actively exploring ways to subdue the younger man's progress, going to great lengths just to keep the general from outranking him.

As the assembly with the King concluded that day, Minister Jang was quick to intercept Seonghwa before he could exit the palace, "General Park, I eagerly anticipate our forthcoming union. I assure you, my eldest is a gem; you'll come to adore her." The elder man remarked smugly.

"Oh, I'm sure I will." He sneered, shrugging off the minister's hand before storming off.

Arriving at his estate, a servant approached the general with a tray of tea, "Welcome home, master," Having suppressed his anger for too long, he couldn't hold back any longer. He smacked the tray out of the poor woman's hands, growling, "Get out of my goddamned sight this instant." She bowed repeatedly, apologising profusely as she picked up the tray and the broken cup before scurrying away.

He slammed the door to his study open, nearly scaring the living daylights out of his only trusted aide, Jongho, "S-sir, is everything alright?" The assistant asked tentatively.

Seonghwa grumbled as he kicked his desk aside to sit in his chair, "The King demanded that I get married and even threatened to strip me of my title if I refused. I need you to dig up some information on Minister Jang's family; that man is up to something."

Jongho bowed once and rushed off to do as he was told, "Will do, sir."

Glaring at his desk, he clenched his fists at the thought of his future wife. Considering her hateful father, she likely resembled him. After all, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. He was more than ready to face the likes of her, having successfully scared off a few spoiled brats before.

More unbearable to him than the King's incessant pressure for him to marry was the presence of irritating little pests, manifested in the form of noblewomen from wealthy families—the entitled sort who believed they were superior to everyone else.

All the encounters he had experienced so far were with that particular breed. If given the chance, he would gladly eradicate every single one of those seemingly useless, good-for-nothing individuals. Without a doubt, his wife-to-be would be another one of those insufferable girls.

Be prepared, wife. Life is about to become quite exhilarating for you.

"Gather around, kids. I have news!" Your father announced as he entered the family estate, cheerfully wrapping his arm around his second wife, your stepmother.

"What's going on, father?" Jinah asked, eagerly joining her two sisters, Jinhee and Jinjoo.

The man let out a tired sigh when he realised you were nowhere in sight, "Where is she?"

Jinhee scoffed, "You mean unnie? In her cage, of course. This is a family meeting; why would we need her around?"

The minister directed a nearby servant, "Fetch her to the main hall; I have an announcement to make." The three sisters and their mother exchanged intrigued glances, wondering what this unexpected proclamation could entail.

Staring numbly out of your tiny room window, you ponder the meaning of life. What was the point of being born if every member of your own family shunned you? To be fair, only your father is family; your stepmother and stepsisters are mere outsiders. Yet, even he hasn't bothered to treat you as such.

Your mother might have been the sole person to ever love you, but you couldn't possibly be sure. Unfortunately, she hadn't been alive long enough for you to remember much about her.

Could she have had any love for you, even when she herself lacked affection from her own husband?

That, you'll never know the answer to.

You've heard that your father had no choice but to marry your mother for political reasons and that your stepmother had been his mistress at the time. When your mother finally fell sick and died, he seized the opportunity to marry the harlot and take in all three of her bastard daughters.

Life has been nothing but hell ever since.

No one has treated you like a lady from a noble house; not even the servants were allowed to do so.

All you could remember was pain.

Endless pain all throughout your childhood.

In fact, the pain still persisted until this day, you felt it acutely in the numerous spots on your body, each a testament to the beatings you endured regularly as punishment. And those punishments were often for things you didn't do—blatant lies told by your stepsisters that your father used as an excuse to unleash his wrath.

Excluded from all family activities, even meals, you survived on leftovers and were confined to your quarters with nothing to occupy your time. It felt as if you were treated worse than the estate's servants, receiving only enough sustenance to keep you alive. You were more like a punching bag, there solely for their tormenting pleasure.

No one would acknowledge you in this household. You were as good as dead until one of your family members wished to have some fun, your misery providing the best entertainment.

So, imagine your surprise when you were summoned to the main hall for an announcement. Why does your presence suddenly matter? The curiosity gnaws at you as you reluctantly make your way to the gathering, wondering what twist of fate awaits you this time.

Cowering shamefully, you faced the evident disgust in your stepmother's and stepsisters' eyes as they took in your shabby appearance.

You struggled to figure out where to sit.

Approaching the only available seat next to the youngest, Jinjoo, you trudged over timidly, only for her to intentionally spill her cup of tea on the chair, "Oops! My bad, unnie. I guess you'll have no choice but to stand." You wished the ground would swallow you as everyone around snickered into their fists.

You looked over to your father, hoping he might stand up for you, only for your heart to sink in disappointment as usual when he averted his gaze with a clear of his throat, "Alright, now that you're all here, I have news to share." He announced, leaving you standing awkwardly in the corner, unnoticed and unwanted.

"Something interesting happened at the assembly with His Majesty this morning," Your father announced, capturing everyone's attention. All eyes were on him, eagerly awaiting the big revelation of this announcement, "The King has pressured General Park to marry once again, and this time, he was serious."

You noticed the expressions of your stepsisters turning fearful at the mere mention of the famous general.

"I figured it would be good to establish a connection with the general, considering his powerful standing in the military. So, I offered my daughter's hand to him in marriage."

Your stepsisters all gasped simultaneously.

"Father! How could you do such a thing to us?! Haven't you heard? That general is a monster! He scared off all of his previous fiancées. Do you have any clue how he'll treat us?" Jinah screeched tearfully.

But her mother calmed her with a sly smile, "Oh, you silly girls, why did you think your elder sister is here for?"

Oh.

Remaining rooted to the spot, you took in the shocking news. Your supposed family cheered at the announcement, their excitement palpable.

"Oh, unnie! You're finally making yourself useful for once!" Jinhee laughed, and your father nodded, a smirk playing on his lips, "That's right, my dear. You've always struggled to find a purpose in life, haven't you? Perhaps you'll grow to love your new life with General Park. I'm sure he'll take good care of you."

Everything turned into a blur as they celebrated what felt like your demise. Dismissed to your quarters, you retreated, letting the weight of the information sink in.

You had heard of General Park; how could you not? He was only the most feared person in the entire country.

Perhaps, in a twisted way, that could be a good thing. If he were to end your miserable life once and for all, it might be a mercy for you too.

After all, you had had enough of this life.

On the day you were set to marry Park Seonghwa, you were puzzled to find a group of servants sent to your quarters, armed with some of the finest clothes you'd ever seen, "What is this?" You questioned, eyeing the luxurious garments with scepticism.

The head of the maids sighed, "Young miss, you are marrying as the eldest daughter of Minister Jang. Surely, you have to at least look the part, yes?"

Oh.

That made sense.

Of course, it was all to make your father look good. Who would care about you?

Resigned, you sat like a doll as they worked on enhancing your appearance, transforming you into a vision of refinement. You observed their extra effort to conceal the remnants of bruises and scars from years of torture.

"All done." The head maid declared as they turned you around to face the mirror. As your eyes met your reflection, you failed to recognise the person staring back at you. You hadn't known you were capable of looking... what do they call it? Beautiful?

But this was only temporary.

You couldn't possibly fool the general forever with makeup. Sooner or later, he would see just how ugly and broken you were underneath all these artificial lies. And he, too, will be just as disgusted as everyone else. When that happens, you are mentally prepared for all the possible outcomes.

How much worse could it get?

After all, you had already endured a lifetime of hell. Surely, the torment couldn't be as severe as what you had experienced all these years... right?

One of the elderly servants, always watching you from a distance with pity in her eyes, approached you as the others dispersed. Her frail but warm hand landed on your shoulder as you met her gaze through the mirror.

With a kind smile, she nodded encouragingly, "I hope you find happiness out there, young miss." You didn't know why your eyes grew wet at those words as you watched her leave with the rest. The unexpected warmth in her gesture lingered, and for a moment, a spark of hope ignited within you.

Happiness?

You weren't sure you even knew what that word meant, but perhaps you'll learn the meaning of it outside of these walls. These walls that felt so much like prison all these years, it's almost funny how it was supposed to be your home.

Truthfully, you didn't think you'd ever live to see the day you would be allowed to leave this wretched place. Caged in here all your life, does anyone even know of your existence?

Perhaps not.

Well, now they might.

Heading to the entrance of the Jang estate, you carried little belongings, close to none.

Your family stood around, excited to see you off. The devious smirks on your stepsisters' faces faltered slightly at your transformed appearance before they scoffed, "Who would've thought? Guess you could actually fool someone looking like that. Just wait till he realises how useless you actually are." Jinhee sneered.

But Jinjoo snickered, "Oh, I'm sure she'll be useful in certain ways."

Jinah burst into laughter at the implication, "Oh yes! Give us plenty of nieces and nephews to play with, yeah?"

Your face burned with humiliation as they made fun of you, as they always did, "That is if she's strong enough to survive him in the first place." Your stepmother muttered, chuckling slyly.

Your father took a step toward you, "There's no time to waste; now get going. Don't you dare make me look bad."

You bowed before turning to leave, but a surge of courage prompted you to look back at your father one last time, croaking, "Father... have you truly never cared for me at all? For my happiness?"

He clenched his jaw, his response cutting, "Don't make me laugh; you and that mother of yours have only ever been a pain to me."

That hurt.

Why did it hurt?

It wasn't news to you. But still, it hurt.

"You want happiness? Find it with him then."

« Preview of Part 2 »

The night before the wedding, Seonghwa lifted his gaze from his scrolls to find his aide arriving slightly out of breath, "Have you found anything, Jongho?"

The assistant nodded after bowing, "Not much on the rest of the family; everything about them is just as known by the public. However, I did uncover more information about the eldest daughter, your bride."

The general straightened in his seat, "What about her?"

With a frown, Jongho continued, "It seems not much is known about her, despite being the eldest. She's the only daughter of Minister Jang's first wife, and no one has seen her set foot out of the estate since her mother's passing. Most sources claim her to be a mystery."

Seonghwa smirked, leaning back in his chair, "She must be quite precious for her father to keep her hidden all these years. Oh, I'll treat her well, all right. Get the head maid to prepare her quarters."

Jongho nodded curtly, feeling a chill run down his spine as he witnessed the sarcastic grin on his master's face.

"Only the best for future Lady Park."

I just want to emphasise that this is NOT a sequel/prequel or extension to Seonghwa's part from my 'Crazy Form' Comeback Special Series. This is a completely different story taking place in an entirely different universe.

Also, while this may be in the Joseon era, I do apologise if some of the details may not be historically accurate. After all, this is only a work of fiction, so please enjoy!

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts, feedback or reviews! I love hearing all about it! <3

Tag list: @aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina @huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @ssrnghwa @yunnieo @sunnyhokyu @lynnsqueendom @frobin4ever @chwesuh-imnida @thunderous-wolf @itstheghostofmypast @professormingisglasses @deltamoon666 @avantalem @famishalll @yungilia @soobiverse @joongified

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[tsxkkis]

# tobio kageyama - mosquitoes

a/n = another (kinda) stupid one while i'm actually suffering from all the mosquito bites i have (i'm dying over here fr)

summary = kageyama mistakes your hickeys for mosquito bites.

warnings = hickeys, mentions of making out, 3rd year kageyama being a little stupid as he is

"what happened to you?"

kageyama's curious frame appeared behind you, making you jump on your bed in surprise. for a moment, you almost forgot he was supposed to come over to your house today; only then realizing that your mom probably opened the door for him, welcoming him with a warm smile as usual.

seeing the puzzled look on your face at his question, kageyama sighed as he came up closer, hand pointing to the few small marks on your neck.

"you should get something that will get the mosquitoes away from your room." he explained, face genuinely concerned as he sat down next to you, seeing you open up the camera app on your phone. "aren't there some scents that make them go away or something?"

his question fell on deaf ears as you were more focused on finding out just what marks was he talking about exactly, an annoyed huff leaving your lips when you couldn't get the angle right to see them in your phone camera.

you stood up, walking over to the big mirror standing in the corner of your room, a focused look on your face as you got your hair away to not disturb your view. kageyama observed in silence, a look of confusion on his face when he watched you laugh at the sight of the marks, your eyes finally catching them in the mirror.

"what's so funny? you really should get some window net for those mosquitoe-"

"kageyama, those aren't exactly mosquito bites."

hearing you say his name stopped him from talking, his face softening up a little, only to be overtaken by confusion right after. you could only look at him, waiting for him to connect the dots in his head.

the moment he finally did, his eyes widened as he quickly looked away from embarrassment.

"oh."

oh.

you laughed again, the sound echoing through your room. he was in his third year of high school, he should've realized sooner, shouldn't he? but at the same time, you were his first-ever girlfriend, first kiss, first anything romantically related, to be honest. it wasn't his fault for not connecting the dots right away.

kageyama recalled the situation from the day before, the thoughts making his cheeks glow a deep shade of red; memories of his hands on your hips, lips moving against his eagerly as he tried not to show just how stressed about all of it he was, seemingly confident in his every move.

it felt right for him to move his lips towards your neck at some point, the gasp you let out at the contact only proving him right. he softly nibbled at the skin, hands squeezing your hips tighter to prevent you from feeling just how shaky they were.

he definitely overheard his older teammates, tanaka especially, talking about it in their previous years of high school, boating about how it's the "thing girls love the most" or something of this sort. he couldn't remember the words correctly, as it was almost a year ago already, but he still had that conversation in the back of his head.

only kageyama forgot about the part where it actually leaves marks.

"you're awfully red right now, tobio." your voice abruptly stopped his trail of thoughts, his awkward and embarrassed face making you giggle a little under your breath as you ruffled his hair. "don't worry about it. my mom hasn't seen them."

he let out a deep breath, one he didn't even know he was holding in, body relaxing a bit at the information.

"she would murder me if she found out, wouldn't she?" he muttered, head instinctively going to rest on your shoulder as you sat down next to him.

"probably."

a silence fell over you two for a moment, your hand coming up to gently brush through his hair, kageyama leaning into your touch.

"but you..." the boy hesitated for a bit, thinking of how to word his thoughts properly. "...liked it, right?"

he heard you hum, nodding your head in response, the slightest bit of embarrassment gracing your face, and it was enough of an answer for him.

kageyama's lips curved slightly in a faint smile.

maybe eavesdropping on his upperclassmen conversations during practice those prior years wasn't all that bad for him after all.

taglist: @ox1-lovesick @moonswolfie @wyrcan

[ur-mousey]

Yandere Geto, who wants the fem reader he's been pursuing to just let him do everything for her. From little stuff like open jars, getting her snacks, and cleaning the table. To bigger stuff, like paying her bills, cooking for her every night, driving her everywhere, feeding her, bathing her.

But she constantly denies that she needs any help and has and will always be independent and she won't let him. Until one day, she "magically" gets fired from her job, and he is invited to her crying session of how she can't handle everything that's happening to her and she wishes she could get some help with everything (which is exactly what geto has been wishing for!)

Geto would obviously take it many steps too far and have her live with him and he would do everything for her, only letting her be his girl and shower him with love like she does in his dream world.

You Need Me ~

Yandere! Geto Suguru x F!Reader

Part Two

warning mature, smut, caregiver kink, manipulation, mastrubation, dependency, dub-con. 2.2k

..............................

You tried not to lose yourself to the temptations of your lover. He had once again cooked breakfast. He spoke gentle words of what today's outing would bring as he brought spoons of rice porridge, decorated atop with apples doused in honey, to your mouth and his. Your giddy squeal caused your boyfriend to chuckle. It was no use fighting Geto Suguru on the small stuff. He laid out a modest outfit of lilac wool to protect you against the forecasted winds without prompt. It was not something that you previously owned. You knew he had spent more money on it than you would've liked.

But, you'll find another time to knock sense into him. Suguru had you purring at the touch of his fingers. He combed through your hair that he tended to like a precious flower. And he rocked your body with his as he captured the final morning hours from your couch. You relaxed into his motion. Today marked four years together, and the last thing you wanted to ruin the mood was a simple present.

His lips fretted along your neck, dancing around bloomed hickeys. At each nip, your hand squeezed tighter at your breast. Suguru told you it's about time you relented to his demands. He wanted you to be his completely, and the implications didn't go over your head.

Becoming his would mean losing so much.

If he could, he would do everything for you. He already commanded a budding ache to pool in your stomach. And with your soiled undies, he had an excuse to bathe, dress, and take care of your laundry.

He loved doing it all for you despite your hesitation. And, you'll allow yourself to sink deeper into his command, only for today.

>>>

Geto thought of you as a little feather duckling. You waddled through life with your head held high. Constantly, your attention floated away from him, bouncing from shop to shop. He admired how enamored a single trinket locked behind storefronts could make you. If you would let him, he would buy it all for you, but you rejected it all with a smile. And you continued on, skipping as he gripped your hand in his. 

Now, your guidance led you two in the line of a famous bakery, where you proceeded to talk his ear off about the different cooking styles of bread. Why you would know that wasn't of that much concern. 

You tended to fill your head with meaningless factoids.

Geto had your M.O. figured. You were at surface level, either dense of the world around you or purposely stupid. You could find humanity in depraved places, including him. Six years ago was his undoing when you walked off that bus. Geto had sat out in the rice fields, a cigarette lit in the night air. His chest heaved. He understood Shoko's habits a little more. The burn distracted him. He wanted to go wild. It was his last-ditch effort to control the bloodlust. Earlier, he had disposed of his parents.

Their corpses were now lost. Remnants of them scattered across the small village which Geto had camped at. He could barely keep his lips from an upturned smirk. He was ever closer to his ideals. A world for the sorcerers.

Without a low-life monkey in sight, he hummed a faint tune. Tainted in smoke. Then, a city bus stopped ahead of him.

Only you had walked off. At that moment, Geto's leg twitched. Hair of yours smacked against the backdrop. A flush of warmth washed over your smiling face. You yapped goodwill onto the driver. He could hear the traces of your thankfulness in the breeze. Your mouth never once settled into quietness. You hopped in place, and both your feet never landed in tandem.

Geto regarded the interaction. Minutes dragged into each other. You wore a student uniform. Considering the time, he assumed you were back from cram school. You bowed, and with a wave, the driver set into motion. And you had made your way to him.

What a setting to a romance that you were naively unaware of.

He still remembered how you had fretted over his well-being. You had paced the dirt road, throwing rapid-fire questioning at him pertaining to his identity, afraid he contracted amnesia. You'd wondered aloud if you should personally walk him home or call the local police to escort him. You even called him a drunkard after he'd explicitly corrected the statement. He found you amusing. "Working yourself over nothin'," He had scoffed. You replied:

"It isn't just nothin'! You're on the side of the road. And I can't leave you here. Whatever got you hating the world is your problem. But, I can't have you throwin' yourself away in the fields."

At your core, below the surface, you were weaker than a monkey. You were a fragile duckling. You continued, "I don't help all drunkards. I'm here, helping you 'cause it looks like you wanna die." You had failed to see him as a threat or as a man. He couldn't get you out of his head.

Pure curiosity turned into an intangible obsession. Humanity could rot for all Geto cared. He would see to it. However, the thought of you, his precious duckling, smeared by the monkey's malice, set his cells on fire. You stood the fairest in a world riddled with cruelness. 

He had given you enough freedom. He needed to foster your warmth behind closed doors. Soon, he planned to rip everything from you out of love. This world, this city you loved dearly, is riddled with curses born from the inherent will of those monkeys. And Geto would be damned if his dreams weren't realized and he couldn't have you at his side. He'd force you to depend on him entirely. 

"Suguuu~ Are you paying attention? What do you want?" You pushed a finger against his chest. You motioned towards all the baked goods. You pouted and dawned a mocking tone, "I guess I'll have to buy you my favorite treat."

"Buy?" Geto gave a slight sneer. "You sure know how to piss me off. I got you, don't I?" He pulled your hips into him, resting his head atop yours. "Y'a know I pay." He had given you enough freedom. Truly.

>>>

You couldn't believe your luck today. You had slept past your alarm. Cuddled in the comfort of your boyfriend's arm. While in your rush to get ready, you felt unease. Your doting lover, Suguru, sat back in bed and observed. You fought the urge to cry and throw a fit.

You wanted him to carry you on his shoulder as he powered through your routine, not you. It might seem ridiculous to most, but you relied on Suguru's guidance. It was shocking enough that he didn't wake you for work. You'd awoken to his pointed stare, nonjudgmental as if he expected you to figure out your mistake.

Your nerves worsened as you went through your morning routine. The fact that he didn't pounce you for dressing yourself made you insecure. Was he mad at you? What did you do? Was he not in love with you anymore?

It was his digression, after all. He decided what you wore and what you ate for breakfast. While you playfully nagged and snatched at things to do it yourself. Yet, Suguru insisted until you relented.

That was the routine.

It's been a month since your anniversary. Suguru assured you at first that work kept him more days than not. He rarely had a night off like yesterday to cuddle in your bed. But, the signs of distance grew.

He was more in his head. Last night, when you initiated, hoping that he would coax an orgasm from you, he denied. Opting for a shower. Suguru never came back to relieve your hormones. He prepared the both of you for bed, halfheartedly so. It broke your heart.

"Sugu. Baby," You called over your shoulder. "I'm heading off to work. I should be home around five. I love you."

No response.

You gathered yourself, tripping over yourself. You crashed into the door, hissing as your finger flew back with the weight of your purse. A frustrated groan accompanied your head smacking the door. No signs of Suguru coming to your aid. Maybe you weren't made for it. Being an adult meant being able to ready oneself. And you were an utter failure with your boyfriend's aid.

You shook your head, gathering your last sliver of courage, and left your desolate apartment.

And, the series of misfortune continued. The trains were crowded that you had to missed two possible trips, you got harassed by some weirdo with blue pigtails, and lastly, you were at your latest to work. The worst hasn't come to pass. It was typical to feel berated over the phone due to the callers's unsatisfactory complaints. But, by lunch, you were over the mean-spirited words. You fiddled with pens and nicknacks coating your desk. You wanted to reconcile. You love him. You need him. You recognized your sense of loss without him. In four more hours, you'd make things right in your relationship.

How? You didn't quite know that. Maybe cook a romantic dinner? Before you could figure that all out, your superior collected you.

>>>

Geto tided your place. First, he organized your footwear into the shoe cupboard, which you would neglect to restock. He had done it all for you since you moved into this apartment separate from him. You had fallen here. He wondered which shoe you tripped over. That accident of yours wouldn't have happened under his care. It took all his energy to neglect your pleading gaze for help. His cock threatened to take over his head. He desperately wanted to fuck that look off of you.

You needed him. That fact was evident enough. You had even chosen a pair of flats, too tight on your heels. Geto meant to throw them out, however, this past month, he's disregarded his tasks. You had to learn that you needed him.

You made it seem like a bad thing to rely on him. You fussed when he took the initiative to open jars and heavy set doors. You fumed at the mention of living with him or him paying rent when you were low.

Was it all that bad to be reliant on him when that's all he wanted from you? He then set aside a pair of slides to alleviate your pain if needed. But, your heart wouldn't be in it. Geto knew that today would be filled with stress. Therefore, he will relieve your fears.

Your lover had the answer. You needed to trust that.

He prepped food for the impending dinner. He chopped veggies and set aside chicken to thaw in the sink. Geto kept glancing at the clock, knowing time was of the essence.

His phone buzzed. Geto fished it out from his pocket, and he was met by your teary, trembling voice. Your breathing ran cold along his back, and blood rushed to his erection. He softly grounded himself into the counter. "Duckling," He cooed. "I don't understand gibberish. Be clear. Take deep breaths." Geto demonstrated, and you followed.

"Su-uh," You whimpered.

He balanced his phone on his shoulder blade. He brought his trousers lower on his hips with one hand. Geto muffled his hum into the palm of his other hand. A few moments passed. His ear sought each sharp intake and languid exhale from your lips. "Sugu, please…" You whined, "Gu- get me. Please. I-I uh, I need you. Like I really need you." Geto bit down on his flesh. He salivated over your lovely words.

He swiped his thumb over the tip of his dick. "What's wrong? You're at work, aren't y'a?" Geto stroked his shaft. Massaging down to the base of his girth. He pinched around the flesh, and he imagined his precious girl begging him to help her forget.

"Ye, I got fired." You sobbed, "My boss… she said some hurtful things. Sugu~ please pick me up." He pumped his cock. His pre-cum bubbled to the surface, lubricating his hand further as he chased his pleasure.

"Why should I?" Geto teased, and the silence of yours permeated. A new wail pushed through the quietness. What's this? You questioned his love for you. What a stupid little brat. He spoiled you dearly. It was you who fought him. However, a month of minimal attention and an orchestrated bad day, had you pleading for his care. Your insecurities laid themselves down on a silver platter for his taste. Maybe he was too rude. You'd questioned his love for you. What a stupid little brat. "Duckling, I'll get y'a. Just joking. Say it. You need me."

You sniffled, "I need you."

.............................. Thank you for reading! And, thank you @appleblueberry-pie for the awesome request. I had so much fun with it!! Please read my other Geto fic, Yandere Landlord x F!Reader! Request rules are here! Feel free to leave comments down below.

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NEXT JJK POST: Yandere! Husband! Nanami Kento x Curse! F!Reader

Since this was my first time doing a request, I put my all in it to make it. Low-key wanted to make this into a two-parter... so possible part 2. This just had my brain going. Also I've been playing an otome game so I made the first lines you said similar to what I see in those dating sims. LOL Anyone knows about Collar x Malice - love Shiraishi!!!

[jamjaemin]

꒰ "Be brave, Angel" ꒱ 彡 ♡ ⋆｡˚ (m.l and h.l)

summary:you want your first tattoo. but are you ready to deal with who will do this to you?

Word count: 6k!

Pairing: tattooartist!mark × tattooartist!haechan × f!reader

Content: fuckboy!mark/haechan, slutty!reader, Praising, petnames(good girl, princess, ect), friends with benefits,teasing ,threesome, double penetration (pussy and ass), ass and pussy spanking, unprotected sex,creampie ,no mention of aftercare :( , lmk if i miss any.

A/n:This is based on the poll I posted before I know y’all voted the most for mark but some besties wants them both like I don't blame them bc I'm down bad for this two. I'm literally busy but yeah here it is I hope you like it, thanks for your time bestie, enjoy♡.

the soft tinkling of bells rang out as you opened the studio door, but your nerves were so sensitive that you flinched as if the sound had been amplified by large speakers. The frigid air inside the studio ruffled the hairs on your arms and you pulled your cardigan tighter around you, immediately recognizing the soft music playing in the background.

If this was a visit like one of the other times you’ve been here with your friends, for company and support in getting their tattoos and piercings, then you would have been able to once again admire the modern decor and beautiful artwork hangs on the walls - all strategically placed to catch the attention and arouse the interest of clients.

But this was no ordinary visit. For once you weren’t here for your friends. You were here for yourself.

No one but you and Johnny knew of your intention to get your first tattoo and you didn’t want to change that, wanting to surprise your friends since they had been encouraging you to get it for years.

That was weeks ago, and frankly, you’d almost forgotten that you’d expressed that wish to Johnny. At least until you got a message from him, asking you to come down to the studio as soon as possible to see the finished artwork that he would use as a base to finally get your tattoo done. You weren’t nervous until that moment.

But when the possibility of getting a tattoo stopped being a ‘possibility’ and became a matter of 'when’, you started to regret your own decision.

It’s been three days since you received the message and only today did you pluck up the courage to come to the studio.

But judging by the way your hands were cold and clammy you didn’t think you had mustered enough courage.

Swallowing down the nerves you took a deep breath and looked towards the reception desk, but there was no one there.

Oh.

You are completely alone.

That means there’s still time to turn around and walk out the same door you just came through, right? Yes right. It would be the perfect excuse.

“Well, at least I tried.” You said softly, already turning towards the exit.

“Y/N?” The melodious sound of Haechan’s voice interrupted your hurried steps, and you squeaked through your teeth, knowing it would be very difficult to escape now. 

“Y/N! Wait, what are you doing here? Are you expecting one of your friends?” He asked already walking towards you, not noticing - or choosing to ignore - the tense expression on your face, choosing to hold his arms out to you in an invitation to hug.

“Hi, Hyuck. Uh, not really, not exactly…” You replied, accepting his warm hug. When he let go and looked at you questioningly, you sighed.

“I’m here because Johnny said he finished the artwork I asked him to create. I’ve been talking to him about getting a tattoo.” The last part you said in a whisper.

“Really?” He smiled brightly in response and added,“if that’s what you really want, you can bet it’ll all be worth it when the job is done.”You brightened up a bit, nodding slowly and offering him a gentle smile, silently grateful for his support.

The nervous knot in your stomach felt a little less dull thanks to hyuck's sweet words.“But I’m afraid unfortunately we can’t do that today, dear.” He said in an apologetic tone, looking disappointed in himself.

You furrowed your brows and cocked your head in confusion, waiting for his next words. 

“Johnny isn’t even here. Today he went to a family meeting, as we’re near to closing time for the studio, he’s already left.”

Closing time?You looked up at the clock on the wall, blushing and stuttering an embarrassed response when you saw that he was right, the hand almost reaching the closing time mark for the studio.

You squealed with your hands over your mouth.“Oh my God! I’m sorry. I didn’t even pay attention to the time. I should have checked the time before coming.”

Damn, it was just like you to be embarrassed like that.

“Hey, no need to apologize, if i know where's the artwork I would have done it myself. I’m sure Johnny wouldn’t mind staying after hours to see you, but he really can’t miss this meeting.”

“D-don’t worry about it, really. I’ll come back another day, it’s no problem to-”

“I’ll attend her.”

You both looked at the source of that voice, both of you surprised by the sudden appearance of someone else in the room.

There, casually leaning against the doorframe, taboo clutched between the long fingers of one hand, the other comfortably tucked into his pants pocket, was mark lee.

His body was covered in black clothes as usual. Combat boots and jeans, a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing the numerous tattoos on his arms.

“Oh, mark, this is Y/N, she’s the client of-”

“I know who she is. I said I’ll attend her, the art is in my office along with the others.”

The abrupt cut left your cheeks red and you looked away at the man beside you, leaving them to stare at each other in the tense silence afterwards.

You were about to say that you didn’t need him to attend to you, but Haechan spoke first.

“That would be amazing”

You heard Mark breathe a little bit heavily, the sound piquing your curiosity until you looked up at him, seeing that his gaze had now fallen on you – disturbingly bored and somehow still so intense.

He keeps looking at you like he’s sizing you up with that sleepy look; like he’s trying to understand you just by the way you’re standing there next to his friend and your friend bc you talked with hyuck comfortably so many times but mark...you didn’t have the chance.

The man before you doesn’t seem the least bit concerned that you’ll find his obvious inspection impolite.

No, instead he just stares you down from head to toe completely, undisguised and not saying a word as he does it twice. By God, twice!You always felt like there was a suffocating tension surrounding the two of you, even though you haven’t exchanged a single word with each other in the months you’ve been in the studio with your girls.

You always told yourself that it was all in your head, but when he looked at you like that it was almost impossible to control your own thoughts.

With a shudder you break your gaze and fix your attention on Haechan again.

“No, don’t worry about it. I can come back another day, I really don’t want to disturb anything.” You said pulling away, but Haechan’s grip on your hand didn’t allow you to go very far.

“Wait. Mark is an amazing professional and I don’t think there could be anyone better than him to get your first tattoo, not even Johnny.”You fought back the urge to say that you had serious doubts about that, especially given the look of sheer boredom on the man’s face and all that awkwardness surrounding the two of you.

He didn’t seem like someone capable of offering emotional support and allaying your fears.

“Fine. Lock the door when you leave.” He set the tone for the end of the conversation before you could argue, but you heard hyuck whispering to mark before he turn and head back inside "leave? take care of her until i comeback" giving him a playful wink.

“you, follow me.” You watched his broad back disappear from view, then turned your eyes to Haechan, smirking at you like he knows you were scared to get your first tattoo. His joy was so intense that you didn’t have the heart to say the things you were thinking, instead offering a forced smile and a gentle hug before walking away to follow his friend.

“see you” You waved at him stepping into the hallway that led to the tattoo and piercing procedures.

"I'll join you soon baby" haechan whispered to himself.

You didn’t know how to react around him and you were afraid it was obvious from the almost robotic way you followed him.

Even on your other visits to the studio, you hadn’t spent more than a few minutes in the man’s presence. Always mysterious and elusive, you noticed over the course of visits that he preferred to work in the back, creating fine art for inspiration and serving specific clients by appointment directly with him. And the few times you saw him it was always the same awkwardness as usual, the same disturbingly intense stares and a total of zero verbal interaction.

He just slowly cooked you up in an excess of visual intensity and then was gone.And now he said he would get your tattoo.God, you didn’t think you could be more nervous than you are right now.

Mark doesn’t say anything to you as he places the book on top of a small table in the corner, heading over to the alcohol spray bottle and disposable wipes, using both to sanitize the black leather high recliner chair you’ll be sitting in for the next few hours. You just watch him, nudging the toe of your sneakers into the other as a distraction as you wrap the cardigan more tightly around your body.

When he’s finished sanitizing the chair you understand it’s your cue and, sucking in a deep breath, you push your legs to move to the padded chair, your body feeling like heavy lead as you just imagine the pain that will come from shoving a needle in your skin. You settle into the chair, hands clasped on your thighs and body taut as a bow, staring at mark’s work like a frightened hawk. If he had noticed how nervous you were - and you really think it would be hard for anyone not to - he said nothing about it, opting to continue his preparation silently.

His moves are practiced, probably memorized after so much time working at it, and he barely looks at you, completely focused on his little world. The only time he stopped what he was doing and gave you any attention was to hand you a clipboard.

“Before we get started I need you to read and sign this if you agree to the terms.”You nod and he immediately goes back to what he was doing, leaving you alone to read through paragraph after paragraph of the studio’s consent and disclaimer if the job doesn’t turn out exactly the way you wanted it to.

You found it really hard not to approve the final work, given what you already knew about the team and their perfect artwork. But you found such terms understandable and necessary, as working with the public could be challenging at times.

You’ve read the document almost through when a sound of packages opening catches your attention and you look away to the man in front of you. None of your friends had done any procedures with mark, despite their many efforts and attempts to make an appointment, but here you were, waiting for him to finish preparing the materials to get your tattoo done. You couldn’t believe it.

He was attractive in a way that would make a woman swoon. His eyebrows were full and his ears were decorated with a variety of piercings and when he turns to grab something from the top shelf you find yourself fighting an appreciative sigh as you get a clear view of his profile, everything about him was appealing.the sight causes the already visible blush on your face to deepen to an even more embarrassing degree.

The sound of a new song starting up snaps you out of your reverie and you stare awkwardly at the clipboard in your hands, deciding that you definitely assent to all the terms and quickly signing your name at the bottom - your handwriting not as graceful as usual, due to the way your hand is slightly shaking.You hand him the clipboard and he places it on the table next to other documents, turning his attention to the materials.

You see him sort out alcohol, wipes, packets of disposable needles, and a small container of ink, all neatly arranged in a straight line on a tray that he brings over to the leather chair you’re sitting in. He sets it down on the side table, along with the pistol and stencil he would use as a base for your art, pulling a stool on wheels next to your chair.

“The tattoo will be in the rib area, right? Under the breast.” He asked quietly, sitting down on the stool. You looked at him curiously through your lashes, surprised that he already knew the location of your tattoo.

“Y-yes, how do you know?”

“johnny told me.” That’s all he told you about it and, surprisingly, that’s all you needed to understand. “Alright. I need you to take your shirt off.”

He says without looking you in the eye, unflappable and confident, putting the pair of black gloves on his hands with a final snap that only served to make you even more agitated.

While you logically knew that you would need to go topless for this particular tattoo, there was an extra nervousness about doing it in front of him. And you knew it was because it was him, because that self-conscious nervousness wasn’t there at the time when you thought johnny would be doing the procedure.

But there was no choice, and besides, he wasn’t being anything but professional with you. Surely he’s seen a lot more exposed skin than that during procedures.

With a sigh of courage and decidedly rosy cheeks, you pulled the cardigan from your body, quickly doing the same with the light shirt you wore underneath, tucking both into your backpack.

You bite your lip and rub your hands on your thighs, focusing on feeling the material of your skirt against your skin in an attempt to calm yourself down. But your efforts go down the drain when he looks up at you, that disinterested, half-lidded look opening for the briefest of seconds as he looks down at your black push-up bra hugging your breasts. You nearly choke on your saliva because, by God, for two seconds you’re sure a purely appreciative look danced across that bored expression of his.

But then, as quickly as it appeared, it was gone.

“Lie down please so I can sanitize the area.” He grumbled letting the disposable mask rest on his chin, and amidst your mental daze you wonder if he only has black items to use.

You comply, lying back on the soft leather, looking up at the ceiling. You almost jump at the feel of the icy liquid on your skin, instantly shivering at the sensation. The smell of antiseptic hits your nose and you try to breathe more slowly, feeling the circular movements of cotton on your sensitive skin.

“I’ll paste the stencil now.”

As you watched, his fingers smoothed over the stencil, the dark outline showing against your skin. He slowly removes the paper and your gaze strays momentarily to his mouth, his lush lips catching your attention as he nibbles on his lower lip in concentration. You blush and look away quickly, afraid of being caught. It takes a moment for you to realize he’s talking when you turn your attention and notice his lips moving.

“See if you like the position and design. Don’t hesitate to say if you don’t like something, the time for changes is now.” He says it more seriously than any of the times he’s addressed you tonight (which hasn’t been many), voice low and direct, wanting you to understand the importance of this moment.

You swallow and accept the round mirror he hands you, positioning it so you can see the art. Your lips part immediately.

“Oh.”

The delicate butterflies and hearts stretches across your rib cage, just below your breast, rising just a little up the side. The way the design undulates naturally, as if a particular breeze is constantly on your skin, gently shaking your tattoo. You find yourself smiling at the beauty and elegance of the art. It wasn’t a large or very ornate tattoo; you were absolutely sure that mark had already done tattoos infinite times more complex than this one. But it was beautiful. Beautiful in an undeniable way, an art made obviously by gentle and skilled hands.

“It’s…it’s beautiful. I love it.” You say quietly, still turning the mirror to observe the design from all angles, a soft smile on your lips.

Mark didn’t respond immediately and you looked away from the mirror to see the cause of the silence. You felt your smile lessen at the way he was looking at you, specifically at your lips. That realization brought butterflies to your stomach, your cheeks flushing again. He didn’t speak up when he realized you’d caught his gaze, eyes rising to look at your flushed cheeks, then locking into your slightly widened eyes.

“Hmm, can we get started then?” He questioned quietly, still looking at you in that disturbing way, pulling the mask to cover the lower half of the face.

“Y-yes, please.” You said, handing the mirror back to him with trembling fingers. Even with the mask on you heard the amused snort and couldn’t help but feel even more embarrassed. The laugh itself was low and silent, just above a rumbling, guttural breath. It made you feel silly and childish.

Great, now he thought you were an idiot.

“This is a pretty sensitive area, so it might be uncomfortable. I need you to take a deep breath for me. I’ll start with a simple line and you tell me how your pain tolerance is, okay?”

You stiffen but nod, doing as he asks. He grunts a little, satisfied with your compliance, but you barely hear it over the now-screeching sound of the pistol.

“Here we go.”

You bite your bottom lip hard with the initial sting. It hurts. It’s not uncomfortable as he mentioned earlier. It’s painful, really painful. Your small hands curl into fists on the chair and you struggle to breathe slowly, trying to focus on that instead of the stinging pain in your skin. He goes on with the simplest strokes for a few minutes and you’re rigid as a rock during the whole process.

“Hey, you’re okay?”

He pulls the needle away from your skin for a few seconds and you take the opportunity to sigh in relief, refusing to open your eyes because you know they’re teary and you definitely don’t want him to think you’re a crybaby.

“Y-yes, fine, you can continue.” You respond, praying your statement sounds confident enough for him to believe it and continue.

But he doesn’t continue.

“Open your eyes.”

You shake your head slightly, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes.

“Y/N, open your eyes for me.” He orders harder, the fingers that are still flat on your stomach pressing your skin a little to get your attention.

Having him say your name that way makes you gasp softly, obeying what he says after a deep breath.

As you knew, the act of opening your eyes causes the accumulated tears to fall, streaming down the sides of your face. You sniff and blush harder, feeling the weight of his gaze on you - so intensely dark, like the sky in a quite night.

“It’s okay to cry. This is a pretty sensitive area and, after all, it’s your first tattoo.” Despite the look of boredom, his words are spoken in a reassuring, deep tone that immediately works to quell the worst of your nervousness.

You nod and wipe the tears with your fingers. He waits for you to calm down as he draws slow circles on the skin of your stomach, and despite the fact that you’re pretty sure this gesture isn’t entirely professional, you still feel better about his patience. You’re honestly surprised by this, as his overall expression suggested nothing but utter disinterest. But you accepts the kindness with open arms.

Suddenly the door opened slowly and it's hyuck, his gaze never leaving your face as he start clicking his tongue teasingly before he said “my little girl crying?”

“Can we try again?” mark said looking back at you.

This time you nod more confidently, a small smile on your tearful face and it’s convincing enough that he accepts with a satisfied grunt.

Hyuck gets closer to you and brush his hand softly on your cheek calming you down, neither his words or gestures seems just friendly but you didn't have time to focus on that when all you can feel is pain.

The pistol buzz returns and you make an effort to be more relaxed this time, humming softly to the music playing through the speakers.

“Do you like this song?” he asks casually and you jump an inch as you feel the needle again in your skin, the pain returning as before. But you try to focus on his question.

“Yes, very much.” You say with some difficulty, but glad you have something you can use as a distraction while he continues tracing the painful lines on your skin. The needle scratching your skin in a more sensitive part now, if that was possible, and you squeal a whimper. Mark looks up at you and you smile weakly, waving to say that everything was fine.

Haechan bite his lower lip softly at your words feeling his cock twitching from how hard he is seeing you like that but after some time he decided to complete tatting you to forget about it and that's how they exchanged roles.

He hums thoughtfully and then is silent, long enough for you to think he’s not going to say anything else. But then he speaks.

“Ready, princess?”

You blush at the nickname, but try not to imagine too much. "Yes I'm ready" you breathed.

“That’s my girl,” he turns to your ribs as you try your best not to feel dizzy - whether it was from the object currently stabbing your skin or the words that had just come out of hyuck’s mouth, you didn’t know.

He swallows thoughtfully, the movement making his Adam’s apple rise and fall, immediately drawing your attention to his neck.

You shyly bite your lip as you stare at the tattoos visible across his skin; the striking features of a butterfly right in the center of his throat, the lush wings spread out to either side. A single rose in the space just behind his studded ear. The top of a dragon’s head peeking through the collar of his black shirt, indicating a larger tattoo spread across his back and biceps.

You swallowed hard.

“Hm, do you like my tattoos that much?.” He asked after a while of silence, pulling back a little to look at your tattoo from a different angle, pulling you out of your thoughts. Long fingers gripping your ribcage area firmly, but gently massaging every now and then, making your mission to ignore the signals more difficult by the second.

And so you two go on for a little over one hour, the excruciatingly long time it takes for your tattoo to be done. You cry sometimes and wince at others, but haechan is patient and so as mark who was sitting across from him watching his work more likely watching you.

Of course, you try to remember that they are professionals and that they probably do this for his other clients. But it’s hard not to feel special when they're so nice.

Sometimes you feel hyuck's fingers caressing your skin in a way that you suspect is beyond what a professional needs to do, and yet you struggle to mask your emotions. It becomes particularly difficult when he asks you to pull up your lower bra line a bit so he can finish off the tattoo. Of course, you don’t lift the fabric completely or anything, but the bottom half of your breast is visible and that’s more than enough to make you hyper-aware. And it only gets worse when you feel his gentle touch on the side of your breast, a series of goosebumps erupt over the area, the length of your face down to your collarbone turning red with the embarrassing reaction. It’s absolutely mortifying and you try to cover your embarrassment with a strained laugh, saying the air conditioning was making you cold.

It sounds too ridiculous to be taken seriously, but haechan push it, his dark gaze is dancing with amusement and interest. "Oh i know you liked it, princess"

“i-...You finished?” You ask when he turns off the pistol buzz, placing the object on the tray, throwing the disposable items in the adjacent bin along with the gloves and mask. He stands with his hands up, stretching his muscles tired from being in the same position for so long. You try not to visibly drool at the sight of the muscles in his arms stretched out like that.

“Yes. Do you want help getting up?” he looked back at you, his smirk growing bigger just like what's between his legs.

Yes, you did. In fact, you wanted him to do more than just help you up. But of course you didn’t say that.

“No, that’s fine. I can do it, thanks.”

Despite this, you have trouble getting up. And the fact that he’s watching your every move like an eagle doesn’t help matters. Your tattoo area hurts like a bitch and your body looks like it took a beating, but now you couldn’t take back what you said, it was a matter of pride. Then with delicacy and patience you drag yourself across the chair, avoiding putting weight on the most painful areas. It takes longer than you’d like, but eventually you’re on your feet.

Mark has one eyebrow arched and a half smile on his lips, but mercifully doesn’t comment on what just happened.

“Here, want to take a look?” the younger one asks, nodding towards the full-length mirror on the wall.

“Yes yes!” You responded excitedly, looking forward to seeing the job done.

“Wow, it’s so…so beautiful!” You admire the artistry on your skin, now more vivid and expressive than before. Lips clamped between teeth, nearly jumping with glee at the result. The detailing is elegant and beautiful. It’s even better than the sketch they have drawn.

Your skin throbbed and burned, but you couldn’t be more pleased. The reflection in the mirror is just perfect. “Johnny is an amazing artist I swear, he’s amazing.” 

Haechan seems to think about what you say, but the way his brows are slightly furrowed tells you he’s still confused. Hearts fluttering in your eyes as you look away from the mirror at the silent man beside you. But mark on the other side is quiet, deathly quiet.

You’re so nervous that you’ve offended them that you feel your body almost shaking where you’re standing. But then he slowly approaches, standing behind you in the mirror, staring intently at the overview of his work now permanently imprinted on your skin with a thoughtful hum.

“It looks really good on you, princess.” He says from behind you, close enough that you can smell the faint scent of cigarettes and mint gum, and something woody like sandalwood. A scent so intoxicatingly masculine it almost makes your head spin. He's literally behind you pressing on your ass and you’re still only in a bra and thigh-length pleated skirt.

Sweet hell.

You open your lips to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. The two of you just stand there, staring at each other in the mirror, neither of you knowing how to act.

God, he feels it too, right? That tension around the two of you?

It is haechan who breaks the silence, apparently more in tune with his feelings than you are.

“Okay, let me clean this up.“

You’re feeling shaky from your recent interaction, but you nod quickly, watching as he cleans your skin. The cold water soothing the tattoo burn.

You don’t know what you’re supposed to do, now that mark is standing close to you too saying nothing, just staring at you in that disturbing way.

For a solid minute, maybe two, he still doesn’t say anything. The look he pinned you with made breathing very difficult but then he finally parts his lips to say something, and you allow yourself to exhale expectantly.

"It wasn’t Johnny who made the art.”

Mark’s deep tone rang like molten gold, clearly knowing he was too close for things to be considered platonic at this point – though it didn’t seem like he minded too much. No, whatever is going on between the three of you is coming to a head right now. You can feel it in your bones.

“E-excuse me?” You blink rapidly, feeling your senses go dangerously numb at his approach, he lied to you.

“I said…” He says more slowly, tilting his head letting the attraction that now seemed mutual run through your veins. “That it wasn’t Johnny who designed your tattoo art, princess.”

He keeps looking at you like you’re the only thing that matters in the world. Disturbingly intense. You try and can’t remember the last time someone looked at you with such obvious desire. The sexual tension rapidly rising.

His long fingers glide along your jaw, tracing the shape, caressing your cheekbones. You don’t entertain the illusion that he can’t hear the rapidity of your breathing, perhaps even the rapid pulse under your flushed skin.

You looked to your right and realize that haechan already cleaned everything and he's staring down at you smirking before he whispered in your ear "Every time you visit the studio I wonder what it would be like if we are more close. What it would be like to have friends with benefits...with a pretty little thing like you"

You swallow the choking lump in your throat, lips parted on a shuddering sigh. It’s palpable that something big is coming and you don’t know if you can handle the rest of what he has to say. Still, you want to hear him say it. You wants him to tell you the things that make your stomach flutter and your toes curl. You want it so bad.

“I want to ruin your pussy, fuck you until your throat hurts from screaming. I want to make you cum with my cock, my mouth and my fingers. I want to lick every damn inch of you.”

…

For a few seconds the world stops turning. Nothing but what he said occupies your mind. You were going to die. Right there, in their tattoo studio.

"I….” You try, although the options are so many that you don’t know exactly what to ask for, your tongue feeling heavy inside your dry mouth, “…please.”

 “Please what, sweet girl?” Mark's head dips to your exposed neck, wet lips pressing against the skin there. His breath is hot and your eyelashes flutter at the contact, then his tongue slides out to drag slowly against your skin.

you sighed and can't reject this offer ofc, as if your words had been forcibly punched out of your body. Desperate. “Just touch me, please.” you breathed, halfway between crying and begging.

“…Where?” He pulls away to look you in the eyes. His pupil is swollen, almost completely black with lust. A smile plays on his lips.

“Everywhere. Everywhere, I just need to—” You can’t pronounce the rest. Instead, your breath is interrupted by a sudden pressure against your lips, and it takes you several moments to realize exactly what’s happening. Mark is kissing you.

Haechan take the chance and grabbed your waist his fingers tracing up to your back unclasping your bra like a pro. “Been dying to see these tits,” he said, giving the one on his side a squeeze the one you tatted just under it but You hadn’t bothered the pain when all you feel is pleasure.

Mark sucked and kissed all over your lips, while hyuck focused on your nipple. His tongue flicked the peak before taking it in his hot, wet mouth.

Right behind the three of you there was a big couch facing the mirror where you saw the final result of the tattoo.

The older one doesn’t wait for to long before taking a few steps back, until he lands comfortably in the couch that you only now realized was there. “Come here, princess.” He ordered.

But haechan grabbed you hard from your wrist and pushed you against mark making you sit on his lap, god he look so turned on, just an hour ago he was smiling brightly and welcoming you.

With a movement of muscles he is pulling the black shirt over his head - he's shirtless, tattooed chest and neck, his bun was slowly coming undone after all the moving. "hold her legs up" He growled while his friend spread your legs lifting them up in the air.

Haechan kneeled down face only few inches away from your panties, the way your pussy was pulsing now watching his tattooed fingers rubbing on your wet underwear, he damn near moaned. “She’s fucking soaked.” The way he spoke about you made your pussy ache even more.

He pushed them to the side and you tried to close your legs but mark grip was stronger, his fingers digging into your soft skin. “Don’t you dare try to hide this pretty pussy from me” hyuck said giving your cunt a good slap making you gasp.

Getting closer then slip between your legs. He kissed your throbbing clit before licking up your arousal, your head feel back on mark's chest with a moan while hyuck devouring you mumbling and degrading your pussy, his tongue flicking your clit faster and harder. Before you could draw another breath, you were tipping over the edge.

Looking at mark with those needy eyes and squirming all over his lap making him throb as well, "shh- I know baby, I know". Haechan licked at you until you finished, then looked up you grinning “So sweet, fuck.”

Mark start hooking his fingers into his pants and yanking them down along with his boxers, his big veiny cock was in a light needy shade of red. He tugs on your skirt as you risen slightly from his lap carefully avoiding your tattoo, For a few seconds you just look at him, asking - begging - for him to guide you in what to do next, and he doesn’t let you down.

One large hand holding both of your wrist behind your back and the other one grabbing his cock guiding his tip on your folds, “Come on princess, let me have you…” He practically pleads against your skin huskily, his larger body slightly trembling in need beneath yours.

You lick your lips and nod shyly looking back at hyuck who is fully naked now standing in front of you not only watching your pretty face but rubbing circles on your clit and choking you softly squeezing on your throat.

“Fuck, baby,” he whispered into your ear as he reach down and slowly rub your folds back and forth with the tip of his cock harder, spreading your slick across the entire length of him. “You have no idea what you are doing to me, princess…”

Your pussy burns as you stretch around his cock. You whimper softly when you felt him inside you, he encourages you the whole time, murmured compliments between his tense jaw.

You close your eyes and sink an inch deeper.

The burning stretch and you biting your bottom lip. When you squeeze a little, mark lets out a groan of pleasure. “That’s it,” he encouraged. “Just like this. Good girl. You’re going so well, princess,” he says through a pent-up groan as you lower until the plump tip of him is inside you, the praise coursing through your veins like liquid fire. “Come on, I know you can take my cock.”

“Does it feel good, baby?” Haechan asks hoarsely, pinching your nipple, as he smiled seeing you coming undone.

“S-so good! It’s so good!” You almost cry, He runs his tongue across your bottom lip and you let him in to explore your mouth, your tongues gliding over each other.

A loud moan is shared between you and mark as you sinking fully into his cock. You swear you can feel him in you chest as he opens you, pulsing and writhing wildly where you spasm along the length.

Bouncing on his cock while choking on another is how you ended up, both of them taking turns on fucking you.

“Gonna be a good girl and take us both, right?” hyuck asked. Your lip went between your teeth at the thought of having both of them inside you. You’d never done something like that, but fuck it sounded good. The second you nodded, haechan was lifting your hips and sinking you on to him. You let out a his as your soft walls opened for him. “Fuck she's so tight,” He groaned.

“mmh that ass is even tighter,” mark said from somewhere behind you giving it a spank. You instinctively rolled your hips, letting your body adjust to hyuck. He rocked his hips up slightly, admiring the moans it pulled from your lips. Mark tried to be as patient as he could so you could adjust to his friend, but his patience feared very thing watching his cock disappear inside you. He did not like feeling left out.

You felt mark press up behind you, He pushed you down so your chest was flush against hyuck’s, allowing himself to spread your ass cheeks rubbing your juices all over it. He used his thumb to spread it over your hole before lined himself up to you. His cock head pressed against you, slowly pushing through the ring of your ass.

“Aahh fuck mark!” you whined as he slowly filled you up. You gripped haechan’s shoulders, fingernails digging into his skin 

“You can take it, be brave, angel” mark insisted, continuing to press inside. He bottomed out with a deep satisfied sigh. “See? Taking two cocks like no problem, that's it baby.” 

They began to move inside you. It was such a strange, full sensation, but fuck you couldn’t deny it felt so good. They moved slowly at first, making sure you were enjoying it. With each moan that left your lips the moved more freely. 

Both men continued to thrust into you more faster. Hyuck’s moans were lighter, on the precipice of a whine, while mark’s were deeper and raspier. It was music to your ears. “Fuck gonna cum? Let it out princess,” mark moaned.

You nearly screamed as the pleasure in your lower stomach completely snapped. Your whole body shuddered as your orgasm flamed through you, your body shaking and twitching, tears falling down your cheeks as you collapsed on top of haechan.

Copyright 2024 © jamjaemin

[marksmelodies]

nct dream reactions to finding out you’re fwb/ secretly dating another member

genre: idol x fem reader au

warnings: cussing, suggestive, sex

—————————————————————————

mark

mark was currently running to the convenience store quickly getting some drinks as the rest of the boys were hanging out in the kitchen of their dorm.

“ man mark left his phone here” renjun says picking it up seeing spam messages from you

y/n: i cant wait to see you tonight markie <3

y/n: what time are you planning on leaving ur place?

y/n: just tell them you’re going to the studio or something

y/n: let me know when you’re on the way later, i wanna get all pretty for you, i’m gonna wear the new lingerie set you got me

y/n: even though you’re just gonna rip it right off

y/n: we haven’t fucked in so long, i might be really tight for you, i know you always complain how you finish super quick when i’m really tight, you might wanna cum once before heading to my place so you’ll last longer

renjun face immediately turns red after reading the messages, he knew he messed up, slamming the phone back down on the table he looks up at the members

“ i just read something i definitely shouldn’t have.”

renjun

you had just gotten out of the shower getting ready for a get together with the dream members, renjun came over before everyone else to help set up.

“babe did you buy more condoms like i asked, we used the last ones last night?” you yell to renjun through the house before the thought leaves your mind.unbeknownst to you the boys had arrived while you were showering, renjun mentally face palmed himself knowing the guys would never let this go… dreading looking up to see the boy’s reactions, before he could look up you walked out of your room “ junnie did yo - oh” you cut yourself off as you realized who all was in your living room already.

“babe??” jaemin questions

“ CONDOMS?!?! EXPLAIN YOURSELVES!!” haechan screams with his eyebrow raised.

“ i think it’s pretty self explanatory haechan, they’re fucking” chenle laughs

“ you guys heard nothing, i did not say a thing” you say walking over to renjun hiding your red face in the crook of his neck

“ good going babe” you hear him whisper in you ear.

jeno

you have known the boy for years now, you and jeno had been friends for a long time but just this year you decided to take it a step further, not exactly dating but not just friends, some would call it friends with benefits but it was more than that. today you and jeno were hanging with all of nct, once a month they hold parties where all the members get to hang out, some even bring their significant others.some members playing beer pong, some gaming others doing karaoke and chitchatting, everyone was having a good time. accept jeno.

you haven’t met all the members before being that you primarily hang out with the dreamies most often, yangyang approached you a little bit ago challenging you to a beer pong game, so as you two were playing jeno stood against the kitchen counter glaring at you with his arms crossed.

if looks could kill yangyang would’ve been long gone.

you jump as you win the game making yangyang chug the last cup of beer, he approaches you complementing you in your win, as you two stand there getting closer with eachother, asking questions about yourselves you look over to jeno who’s squinting his eyes in an intimidating way just waiting for the right moment to approach you two. as time goes by you realize that yangyang is in fact flirting, you awkwardly laugh trying your best to get out of the conversation however he keeps dragging you back, soon enough yangyang places his hand around your waist, you immediately back away as you bump into someone behind you, that very someone being jeno.

“ hey babe i’ve been looking everywhere for you” jeno says as he grabs your hips placing one hand around it as the other one goes to your ass, leaving a peck on your lips.

“ i see you’ve been talking to yangyang, yangyang this is my GIRLFRIEND y/n” he smiles

“ oh shit girlfriend?? my bad bro i thought you two were just friends” he says

“ it was nice talking to you, i think i should go” yangyang hurried away extremely intimidated by jeno

“ babe what are doing, there’s so many people here i thought we were keeping us a secret, and girlfriend.. i don’t remember you asking me out unless i’m so drunk i can’t remember” you push past him, he pulls you back into him with his strong arms

“ maybe i’m hinting something sweet girl, we’ll talk about it when we’re both sober”

as the night goes on jeno decides to play a shot game against a few members, taking shot by shot. members backing out one by one leaving jeno as the champion. the crowd watching as he takes his last shot, when he finishes everyone cheers for him, jeno clearly not sober, grabs you and kisses you on the spot in front of everyone, gasps heard from a distance you and jenos tongue fight for dominance, grabbing up on you he squeeze your ass pulling away

“ i knew it haechan yells”

“ let’s go to the bathroom babe i need my dick in you immediately” he yells loud enough for almost everyone to hear.

“ oh my god jeno you’re so embarrassing” you say leading him into the bathroom as the group freaks out over what just happened.

haechan

you and haechan we’re currently thousands of miles away from each other due to nct dreams tour.

“ i miss you pretty girl” haechan says over videocall

“ i miss you more hyuckie” you smile at him through the camera

“ where are the rest of the boys? aren’t you rooming with someone?” you ask

“ i’m sharing the room with mark but he’s in the shower right now, i think the others are asleep it’s pretty late here”

“ oh that’s right it’s nearly midnight for you, you should get some sleep love”

“ i’m not tired baby, actually i’m quite the opposite” he smerks at you

“ oh my god haechan don’t give me that look”

“ it’s not my fault i haven’t had your life changing pussy in so long” he sighs

“ you’re so dramatic.. but i admit i’m having the same problem over here”

haechans face drops into a serious look

“ come fly out here, i’ll pay for everything”

“ haechan be serious for five seconds”

“ i’m so serious y/n i need you so bad, i miss you so much, i miss your body and how it rides me so well, i miss your taste, i miss everything about you”

“ i’ll tell you what, go focus on your shows and do your best for me and when you get back you can sleep at my place and i’ll let you do everything you desire”

“ EVERYTHING?!?!” haechan shouts

“ yes baby everything, we can go at it all night if you really want” you laugh

“ YES ” he says in an excited tone

“ you’re the best, i could kiss you right now” he kisses the phone

once you two end your conversation and say goodnight hanging up the phone, mark walks out of the bathroom and lays on his bed casually scrolling through his phone.

“ so you’re fucking y/n? i would’ve never expected that” mark stares nonchalantly turning towards haechan

haechan stares at him with wide eyes

“ the walls are very thin” mark laughed

“ how much of our conversation did you hear??” haechan asks

“ enough to make me want to puke”

haechan rolls his eyes

“ don’t worry your little secret is safe with me”

jaemin

jaemin had to be back on stage in 15 minutes.

“ babe come on you’re going to be late,everyone’s looking for you” you say trying to push him off of you

you and jaemin are best friends at least that’s what you tell everyone, in reality you’ve been seeing each other romantically for a few months now. currently backstage in the dressing room jaemin has you sitting on the table, shirt pulled up exposing your chest as he feels you up, kissing every inch of you.

“ i’ll go back out in a minute i’m not done feeling all of you yet my love”

jaemin quickly lifts your skirt up pulling your panties to the side as he slips his pants down pulling his dick out and lining it up with you, he quickly thrusts into you

“ oh my god jaemin you feel so good” you moan

“ fuck your so tight” he curses under his breath

the door suddenly swings open as the members appear in the door way

“ oh shit, oh my god im so sorry, continue” chenle says immediately closing the door

“ oh my god your entire group just saw my titties” you say wanting to cry of embarrassment

“ it’s okay baby we can worry about that later, focus on me right now ” jaemin coos

you and jaemin open the door to see the members in the hallway, you grab jaemins hand looking to the ground in embarrassment

“i’m so sorry you had to see that” you say

“ i’m not, that was hot as fuck” haechan jokes as jaemin gives him the death stare

“ just remind me to never go near that table again” chenle says disgusted

“ by the way, you all owe haechan and i 20 bucks, i told y’all they were fucking” jeno says.

chenle

the boys decided for chenles birthday that they would go to his house and prank him by waking him up for practice screaming happy birthday and jumping on his bed.as they all approached his bedroom mark counted down and they all busted through the door, to their surprise they found chenle and you cuddled up in bed, your bare back facing the door and both of your clothes from last night scattered on the floor hinting that you were both naked under the sheets

thankfully you’re a heavy sleeper, so the boys sudden entrance had no affect on you whatsoever however chenle not so much, the boys stand frozen for a second before chenle groans shooing them to go away

“ shit go go go” they whisper leaving the room in a hurry

“ sorry” renjun whispers leaving the room shutting the door it abruptly opens again and a hushed

“hope y’all used protection” was said before shutting the door again.

jisung

due to jisungs recent ankle injury he wasn’t able to attend practice with the rest of the dreamies, the boys walked down the hall heading to their dorm after a long practice

“ i hope jisungs doing okay, he’s probably lonely being all cooped up in his room all day” mark says

“ are you kidding that kid is having the time of his life playing endless video games” jeno chuckles,getting closer to the dorm they hear slight banging getting louder the closer they get

“ what the hell” jaemin says turning door handle to their place

“ oh my god, yes jisung right there” you moan loudly

the dorm is filled with loud moans shared between you and jisung,the bed squeaking and the headboard banging into the wall slightly causing the picture frames on the other side of it to shake

“ cum for me baby” jisungs voice echos across the dorm

“ oh my god” jeno says as they all walk back out into the hallway quickly evacuating the dorm after realizing whats going on

“ holy shit our little innocent jisung is getting laid” haechan says as everyone stands there shocked on what to do next

“ there’s a good place to eat right down the road why won’t we give them some time” jaemin suggests

“ god i just cant believe jisung is corrupted, he’s been putting on a façade this whole time” haechan continues

“ let him be haechan at least he’s getting some unlike you” renjun laughs

“ man our youngest is all grown up” mark says “ he better have wrapped it” he adds

“ OH MY GOD WAIT WAS HE FUCKING Y/N” chenle gasps as the whole groups come to a halt, the boys stand there in the middle of the street contemplating what to do

“ we have to go back and see for ourselves” they say in unison, running back to the dorms

————————————————————————-

Thanks for reading lovelies!!! hopes you enjoyed!!! <3

[domquixotedospobresblog]

TOP SECRET 🔝😎 40th ANNIVERSARY 💫

Today was released Top Secret 40 years ago exactly🤙

One of the best comedies of the 80s and which marked Val Kilmer's debut as protagonist, who would later achieve stardom as the legendary Iceman in Top Gun ✈️

Many of the songs in the film are performed by Val Kilmer himself under the pseudonym Nick Rivers.

A mandatory stop today to review this 80's classic

And stay tuned for the next few hours because there will be another "remember suprise"

[pinkiemachine]

GOTHAM FILES: MOVIE FINALE

THE TIME HAS COME! BRUCE IS GETTING MARRIED!!!!!

Somebody get some flowers! 💐 Somebody get a ring! 💍 Somebody get a chapel and a choir to sing! 🎶

Somebody get an organ to play! Cause somebody’s getting married today! 🔔 💕 🔔

This literally could not be a bigger deal! No one, and I mean NO ONE expected Bruce to ever get married. Alfred is so proud of him. He’s come such a long way. They all have.

Buuut…

Guess who’s slighted that he wasn’t invited? It’s Joker.

He’s pretty ticked at Batman. He’s taken Harley, he’s taken half his vision, he’s taken most of Gotham from him… and now he’s gonna stand up at that alter, being all happy? No no no… he’ll give him something to REALLY smile about…

So, the film goes about how you’d expect. Relationship drama, family drama, trying to put the wedding of the century together drama, and in the background, Joker’s ramping up to cause trouble. But also also in the background… Bruce is reminiscing hard on his past. He goes to visit his parents in the cemetery. He says he thinks they’d be proud of their grandkids. He just wishes… he’d finally been able to find the man who did it… who took them away from him. But then… he decides to take another look at that case… there might be some new evidence that’s come forward recently…

Anyhoo, that doesn’t last long, because: Joker.

Naturally, he hijacks the wedding, nearly stops the marriage entirely, but this time… this time, it’s not about the whole family coming together to fight a common foe. I mean, they’re all there, helping in their own ways, but… when it comes to Joker… this is it. This is the final showdown. Just him and Bruce. The way it was always meant to be. And this is the last time he tries to murder his kids, or his soon-to-be wife, or his friends. This is the last time he escapes Arkham. This is the last time he attacks Gotham.

Technically, it was Joker’s own fault… but Bruce didn’t exactly go rushing in to save him…

Either way…

…the Joker is finally dead.

Thus marks the end of an era.

The wedding continues (everyone’s a little banged up, but otherwise okay) and Bruce and Selina are officially husband and wife!

Later, at the reception, Bruce looks around at everyone… all his friends and family… and he can’t help but feel overcome with a bittersweet joy. He stands and makes a speech. He says that… when he was a boy, he thought he had lost everything. He thought his life was meaningless. He thought he would get lost in that darkness forever. But it turns out, he was never truly alone. And now, life had blessed him tenfold.

Alfred, who had never wavered once over the course of his life, and had always been there with a shoulder to cry on, or a pat on the back, or a quick scolding. The man who always believed Bruce no matter what, and who had become a father to him. He wouldn’t be the man he was today without Alfred.

Dick, the goofy kid he found years ago, and who barrelled into Bruce’s life so unexpectedly… he had been Bruce’s first guiding light. His first Robin. His first son. And he had made Bruce so proud, seeing the man he had become. A far better man than he was.

Barbara, his first Batgirl, and an unwavering ally in the fight. Her bravery and quick-thinking had saved Bruce on numerous occasions, and she had become a good friend. Not only that, but a good mentor as well. She would surely go on to do many more amazing things.

Jason, who never once stopped making him laugh. (Something Dick was always jealous of.) Jason, who they almost lost… but found his way back home. He doesn’t regret taking him in for even a second. He’d do it all over again the same way, just to see that smile of his… and although they differed in philosophy… he was proud of Jason, too.

Tim, who barged in unannounced, but ended up being the most welcome. The light he needed most during the dark days. Without Tim, Bruce might never have recovered… if it weren’t for his intelligence and determination… this wedding might not even be happening. So thanks, Tim. Thanks for all your hard work and sacrifice over the years. Bruce couldn’t be more proud.

Steph, the bravest, boldest, and loudest of them all. The glue that held them all together when all else had failed. The last bit of energy and optimism that he and Tim needed to get over those hurdles… she was just as much a blessing as any of the other Robins, despite how short her time with the title was.

Cass, who was hiding in the darkest corner of the room because she’s very antisocial, was another welcome surprise. She was growing into a fine superhero, and a wonderful person, and Bruce was happy for her.

Duke, the newest member of the family, who had never stopped working hard to help them achieve their goals and who single handedly helped keep Gotham afloat while he was away. He was proud of him too.

Of course, there were all his friends in the Justice League—Clark and Diana especially—not to mention Lucious, and all his years of hard work, Commissioner Gordon, Luke, Catherine, Harper, Claire, and so many more…

…but the person he was most thankful for was Damian. He had grown so much over these last five years. He had matured and made difficult decisions, had taught Bruce more lessons than he could count, had brought many new animal friends with him, and he had made Bruce so immensely proud to call him his son. If Thomas and Martha could see him now… Bruce knew that Damian would continue to grow into a great man. A good man. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind about that.

So here’s to family. Here’s to the long nights and the hard conversations. Here’s to the breakups and the reunions. To the first kisses, the newborn babies, the long walks and good times. Here’s to love… and here’s to the future. If it’s anything like these past 17 years… then Bruce can’t wait for it.

And now, there’s one final loose end.

After the speech, Gordon takes Bruce aside. He says, he’s got his wedding gift with him and he might want to take a look at it now. They’ve finally been able to determine who the Waynes’ killer was.

Bruce discreetly excuses himself from the party for a moment…

He goes to this quiet part of Gotham and the address listed brings him to an apartment… there’s a woman inside… and a baby… The file says that this man had been arrested for various unrelated crimes and went to prison for a total of thirty-five years. Now it seemed like he was trying to get his life together. He didn’t at all resemble the man in the alley from that night. And now that Bruce had found him… he was faced with a big question. What should he do? He watched the man eat dinner with his wife and clean up after his baby boy… they were living in a low-rent district… they looked like they didn’t have much… but they were trying. Trying their best. As much as it hurt… Bruce was happy for them. Happy that this man was in a better place. Happy that he had faced some form of punishment and had taken that as a good wake up call.

He left the apartment, no one having seen him.

Back at Wayne Manor, the reception was still carrying on down on the grounds outside. Bruce was in his study. He seemed tired. Tired, but happy. Selina came in, wondering where he had disappeared to. It was time to take off for the honeymoon. Bruce just smiled and took her hand, leading her back out. As we pan down to Bruce’s desk, we see Thomas and Martha’s case file… and on that file are written two words:

Case Closed.

Part 9 👇

[soshirohoshinasimp]

the journal

@imthecosmicbasball

tw: mild swear words

Wc: 461

genre: secret admirder, fluff

sorry for any mistakes, I speedran this fan fic on my phone. 4

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Every moment spent with you feels like a beautiful dream I never want to wake from. Your laughter reverberates through my soul, and your smile brightens even the gloomiest of days. Thoughts of you consume my mind incessantly; I ache to hear your voice and behold the sparkle in your eyes filled with joy," you wrote quietly in your soft pink journal, its pages adorned with sketches of Vice Captain Hoshina, your unattainable crush.

Yes, you were hopelessly in love with him, though you kept this burning passion veiled behind a facade of icy composure. No outward expression would betray your deep-seated emotions; instead, you buried yourself in work as a coping mechanism.

Your workstation in the tech department was strategically placed near Hoshina's office, affording you frequent glimpses of him—exactly as you secretly desired. But why did you love him so desperately?Why did you want him so urgently?

For one, he had saved your life years ago—an indelible mark on your heart. Strike One

 Despite neglecting basic needs like food, water, and sleep in favor of work, it was a routine that concerned even him. Caught once arriving at 4 AM after toiling until 11 PM, Hoshina scolded you gently, "Get some rest, Y/N-chan. It's not good for ya." His concern, coupled with those caring words, sent you spiraling into a whirlwind of 'what ifs,' your cheeks flushing with hidden embarrassment. Strike two

Then there was his infectious laughter and perpetual sunshine aura that brightened your every day, and of course, his undeniable cuteness that rendered you weak-kneed. Strike three.

You loved him to the extent you would willingly face a bullet—or even a meteor—for him.

The best part? He remained oblivious to your feelings. (If he knew, it's all over.) —until today.

During lunch break, while socializing outside your department, disaster struck. A neglected tear in your backpack became the unwitting gateway for your journal to slip through. Panic surged as Vice Captain Hoshina, wielding your unmistakably pastel pink journal, questioned aloud, "Does anyone recognize this journal?"

Silence descended like a shroud. He checked each person's handwriting, inching closer to your desk. The door swung open just as he neared, and you walked in to find him holding your journal—your worst nightmare unfolding in a span of mere minutes. "H-hey, that's mine!" you blurted out, lunging forward to snatch it from his grasp, heart pounding. You shoved it straight into your backpack, displaying a wide range of emotions like embarrassment and close to tears. 

"So... I brighten every day of your darkest days?" he teased with a mischievous smirk.

Oh fuck no. 

He had read it.

At that moment, as mortification began to engulf you, you wondered if it was too late to volunteer as kaiju bait.

[morgana-larkin]

Alright as most of you voted yes, here’s part 2 to ‘Wanna Kiss The Teacher’. Also I want to do some fics for kinktober, so feel free to send ideas for kinks and for which character! Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: Sorry about being behind on my Melissa and Chessy fics lately. I did come out with an Agatha and Misty fic recently so if interested then you can check them out. I’ll be updating my masterlist today with an improved look as well as I finally found the time.

Wanna Kiss The Teacher - Part 2

Warnings: smut, exam anxiety (we’ve all been there)

Words: 2.18k

It’s been a little over a month since you and Melissa started going out. Everytime she comes into the classroom for your class, she smiles at you and you smile at her. You have to admit that you’re happy you took the chance with her and you wouldn’t change it. She’s thriving in your class and from what she’s told you, she’s doing amazing in her other classes as well. But with exams coming up in a week, you see Melissa less and less, and every time you do see her, she’s incredibly stressed out.

“Melissa, calm down.” You tell her as she’s on the verge of a panic attack as you’re helping her study for an exam from another class of hers. “You know the answers ok. Listen to me.” You tell her and grab both her wrists and that gets her to look at you. “You’re amazing in all of your classes, you know all the answers. You need to calm down or that will cloud your brain and you won’t be able to think of the answers. I know it’s scary, I was exactly where you were about 10 years ago, but you got this.” You tell her and then kiss her forehead. She lays her head on your chest and you wrap your arms around her.

“Thank you.” She says softly and you hum.

“It’s not a problem, sweetheart.” You tell her and then Max comes running in and demands attention from Melissa, which she does give him, every time he asks. “I’ll go feed him while you take a small rest, ok? Just take a breather and we’ll continue when I get back alright?” You tell her and she nods.

You go and feed Max and then you heat up some leftovers you have in the fridge, as it’s dinner time and you doubt Melissa will remember to eat anything.

“Ok Melissa, I have fo-” you begin to say but then you see her asleep on the couch. You did notice the bags under her eyes getting worse but you didn’t say anything. You go back into the kitchen and leave her leftovers in the microwave and then you eat your leftovers in the kitchen so you don’t wake her. You go and check on her when you’re done and see that she’s still asleep and you gently place a blanket over her and then you go and do the dishes. When you’re done with the dishes you go back out and decide to start marking some assignments. An hour later is when she begins to stir.

“Hey sleepyhead.” You say and she opens her eyes and looks at you.

“What?” She asks, confused as to what’s happening.

“You slept for a couple hours, and you definitely needed it. I’ll go get you some food.” You tell her as she wakes up. You come back out after heating up her leftovers and see her more awake and preparing to start studying again.

“Why did you let me sleep? Why didn’t you wake me?” She questions you.

“Because you needed it, Melissa. Do you think I didn’t notice the bags under your eyes get worse and worse? You needed sleep, which is why I let you sleep, and you also need to eat, so here’s some food.” You tell her and hand her a plate of food.

“Thank you.” She says as she accepts the plate. You sit down beside her as she eats her food and you continue grading assignments. “What did I get?” She asks you and you smile.

“What makes you think these are from your class?” You ask without looking up from grading.

“I can see Lana’s name right there.” She says and points to the name and you chuckle. You put the grade at the top of the sheet and then move to the next one.

“I guess I’m about to do yours.” You tell her and she leans her head on your shoulder when she finishes eating. You take a few minutes to read her assignment carefully before starting the grading. “Alright, your wording is very good as usual, gets a little confusing here.” You tell her and point to a spot on the paper. “I would word it a bit differently but it’s still good. Just a few mistakes but that’s normal.” You tell her as she nods along. “And you make excellent points with evidence to back it up. I’m gonna give it 91%.” You tell her and she smiles and kisses your cheek.

“What’s my overall mark in the class so far?” She suddenly asks. You get your paper out with everyone’s marks and you look for her name.

“Let’s see, 88%.” You tell her and she smiles, you kiss her forehead when you feel her let out a breath. “Feeling better?” You ask her and lifts her head up from your shoulder.

“No. Like I know that I know the answers, but I’m just afraid I’ll mess it up somehow or run a blank when I get to the exam.” She says and you lift her chin up to get her to look at you.

“It’s just another test, I didn’t see you running a blank on those.” You tell her and she pouts.

“It’s not just a test though, well it is, but it counts towards the final mark a lot more.” She says frantically and you kiss her lips to calm her down.

“You shouldn’t get yourself worked up, it’s important to stay calm. If you don’t then that’s when mistakes happen.” You say and she nods. You start to go back to grading the assignments when she grabs your pen, puts it on the table and straddles your lap. “Whatcha doing, sweetheart?” You ask her as you lean backwards a bit.

“Well I know a way that’ll help me destress.” She says and you smile as she kisses you. She starts trailing down your neck and you move your neck to give her more access automatically. “I want to ride your fingers.” She says in your ear and you nod. You kiss her again and then feel her move a bit on your leg and then feel her start moving on your thigh, essentially thigh humping you. You put your hands on her waist before moving them up to take off her shirt and she lets you. You unclip her bra and fling it across the room, where it landed, you don’t know and you don’t care.

You put a nipple in your mouth and you see her throw her head back and gasp. She puts her hands in your hair to keep you there and you still feel her dry humping your thigh. You put one hand on her waist and the other on the free nipple and play with it before switching to put the other nipple now in your mouth. You undo the buttons on her jeans and pull down the zipper before slipping your hand in her underwear. You pull her a bit so her pussy is in between your legs so you can easily slip your fingers in her entrance. You move your hand from her waist to her back before slipping a finger in her entrance and she gasps when you do. You slip another finger in it and Melissa moves her hips again and starts riding your fingers, just like she asked for.

“You’re so beautiful Melissa, and I love when my fingers are in you.” You tell her and she wraps her arms around your neck and pulls her body closer to you when her orgasm starts building. You place your palm on her clit and her breathing quickens and deepens. You feel her walls starts to clench around your fingers and you know she’s close. “Come when you need my beautiful girl.” You tell her and then she comes with a gasp and you feel it drip on your hands. You slow down and remove your palm from her clit before removing your fingers from inside of her. She’s still clinging to you and has her head resting on your shoulder while she catches her breath. “Take your time sweetheart.” You tell her as you rub her back with the hand that was not in her. You lick your fingers when she lifts her head and pulls back to look at you.

“I love you.” She tells you and you freeze and look at her.

“Really?” You ask and she nods with a smile. “I love you too.” You say and stroke her cheek. She leans forward and kisses you immediately. She starts giggling softly as she’s kissing you and you pull back to look at her. “What’s so funny?” You ask her and you remove some hair from her face.

“A month ago you didn’t know if you should date a student, and now you’re in love with one.” She says with a smile and you scoff playfully at her.

“Well how could one resist your charm and beauty?” You tell her and she shrugs her shoulders.

“Well I don’t know about everyone else but you couldn’t resist.” She says slyly and you start tickling her stomach and she starts squirming and laughing on your lap.

You stop tickling her after a few seconds and she turns around in your lap and you wrap your arms around her waist. You can tell she’s now thinking about the exams again as she leans back onto you with a sigh.

“You got this. You’re gonna kill those exams.” You tell her and she looks at you with a smile.

*two weeks later*

Melissa is running down the hall of the dormitory and out the door. She’s running across the college quad and field and gets to your place in under 10 minutes. She starts knocking rapidly on your door and you run to answer it.

“Melissa, what’s- woah!” You say as she wraps you in a hug excitedly and then pulls back and gives you a letter.

“I passed all the exams! I just got the letter!” She says as you read all her marks. You pull her into a hug, happy for her, knowing she could do it.

“Congrats sweetheart! I knew you’d kill it! We should go out to celebrate!” You tell her and she smiles widely as she looks at her marks again.

“Seems like my highest mark is from your class.” She says and you chuckle.

“You also got the highest mark in the class.” You tell her and she blushes with a smile.

*30 years later*

You pull up to Abbott with some Italian food from one of Melissa’s favourite restaurants. You knew she’s been stressed this week with all the grading and work she’s been doing as it’s almost the end of the school year. You get out of the car, grab the food and walk in through the doors.

“Surprise!” You say as you walk into the break room and Melissa’s eyes widen and a smile is on her face. “Double surprise actually as I have food from your favourite place.” You say as you walk over to her table and place it in front of her.

“What’s the occasion?” She asks you as she stands up to look in the bag to see what you got her. She pulls out a couple containers.

“Well I know you’ve been doing a lot of work this week so I thought I’d surprise you.” You say as you move some hair out of her face and give her a kiss on the cheek, and everyone is looking at you guys with a smile.

“That’s really sweet of you.” Melissa tells you with a smile. “And to think that I was stuck with this boring ass salad.” She says and you giggle and then look at her salad.

“Heyyy!! I made that salad.” You complain and she laughs and winks at you. “Maybe I should make you more boring salads.” You say and cross your arms.

“So you agree that it’s boring then?” She asks with a quirked brow.

“I walked right into that.” You say as you both sit down with the food.

“I do appreciate the food and the salad.” She tells you and holds your hand.

“Even though it’s boring.” You ask and she laughs.

“Even though it’s boring.” She tells you and you both start eating, Melissa looking at you the entire time with a smile.

“You know you’re still my favourite student.” You tell her and she giggles.

“Well I would hope so, since you married me.” She tells you.

“Melissa was your student?” Janine asks you and you turn to look at her.

“Yep, her first class of her first year of college, it’s how we met.” You tell her. “And you didn’t get with me to improve your grades, as you got the highest mark in my class.” You say with a fond smile.

“I thought you were hot, what else is there to say?” She tells you and you burst out laughing.

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[bellaxgiornata]

Today marks Falling for the Devil's first birthday!!! 🎉🎉

Exactly one year ago today I published the first installment of FFTD over on AO3 with the intention of this series only being maybe 15 to 20 installments long, and now a year later we have NINETY and we are STILL GOING. Some of you have even been here reading and supporting me and this fic from the very beginning and it truly leaves me speechless. I had no idea the love this little fic was going to receive from all of y'all when I started it, and it truly is because of that love that this story is still going a year later ❤️😭 I've never had a fic ongoing for so damn long before, but yet I'm still over here having fun working on it (and truthfully FFTD Matt and Reader will always be my favorite).

I could honestly blather on and pour my heart out to y'all about what this fic means to me and how it's also been my escape in difficult times (and those of you who know my FFTD end notes know how damn true that is 😅), but I really just wanted to say thank you all for the support. Not just on this fic, but on all of my others, too. This community/fandom has been so welcoming and wonderful and I enjoy writing for y'all because of that ❤️

So here's to more FFTD installments (the next one is almost written now), that upcoming Second Angst Arc, and Matt hopefully getting his shit together and finally asking Reader to marry him because we have all been waiting so long. LIKE IT'S BEEN AN ENTIRE REAL LIFE YEAR, MATTHEW. GET IT TOGETHER.