#actually if they reveal that she is in fact NOT getting a skin i may be ok about it

[anonymocha]

for 1.8 i am manifesting Kaalaa Baunaa, Eternity, or Baby Blue garments please come to me please please plea

[hoseoksluna]

LADY BEETLE | knj

pairing: non-idol!namjoon x oc

genre: situationship au ; sex playhouse ; glory hole  / smut, fluff

word count: 10.4k

summary: when you came to seoul's hidden sex playhouse to forget about namjoon, you didn't think the anonymous mr. kim would actually be namjoon.  

pin: lady beetle / taglist: join / discord: join

warnings: sex club setting, oc struggles with her feelings towards namjoon, glory hole but with hoseoksluna twist, engaging in sexual practices with a person you don't know, commitment issues, heated conversations, dirty talk, patience game, counting down (for my neva play girlies), oral sex (f. & m. receiving), deepthroat, face fucking, nipple play, unprotected and rough sex, teacher namjoon, spanking, praise kink, size kink, choking on fingers, rough treatment in general, aftercare, oc and namjoonie smoke together.

note: i daresay this is my best work. :D fuck my life, guys. i need this namjoon like i need air to breathe. if i see any of you wearing panties... TAKE EM OFF NOW. sldjflskdjfsl jk, jk. THE SUPRISE IS REVEALED. GLORY FAWKING HOLE. my babies, enjoy this filth. stream neva play. imagine that deep voice of his.... yeah. yeah....... faaawwkwkjsdlfjsdlfjsdfjslfjsls. ENJOYYYYY. LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK. MY ASK BOX IS OPEENNNNNNN.

The building looked ordinary from the outside view. Like any other building in this part of the city. Long and tall, coalescing with the evening heavens and with its freckles of stars—very much like those upon your skin. McDonald’s was just down the road, a to-go coffee stand perfumed the whole street with its coffee beans, and a bookstore stood right next to this peculiar piece of urban architecture, unaware of all the sins that lurked behind its walls. 

It may pretend to be pure, with its grand hall, its sophisticated reception and even graceful employees���dressed in the finest of fabrics that glinted beneath the opulent chandelier—but it was just that. 

An act. 

They smiled at you, but in their heart they knew what you were here for. 

In this seemingly normal, ordinary building all your sexual fantasies flare out. In the simplest of words, you come here to get fucked out of the norm that is considered vanilla. You fill out an online application, set the date, the time—and depending on your desire, you even get to see who your dream fulfiller is. 

In your case, you were going into this blind. 

And so was he, your dream fulfiller. 

While you opted to stay anonymous, the only detail you knew about the man was that he was from the cursed Kim clan. Another male that bore the last name like the one who wrecked your nerves to the point that you had to bite the bullet and try this out as nothing else was working. It was a newfound obsession of your best friend, who gifted you a voucher to this place on your birthday. And you weren’t sure if Kim Namjoon had the sixth sense and somehow knew about this, although you’d believe he was very much capable of possessing one, just to piss you off even more. 

You have been crushing on this man since the day you met him at your mom’s small ramyeon restaurant you are working in for her. Since the moment, in fact, you glimpsed at his vintage black Cartier watch with a matching singular bracelet adorning his wrist that he kept calmly on the table while he was on a work call, growling and snapping into the phone. Your mom curled her lips, swatted her eyelashes as she grew hot in the cheeks, chopping green onions for him from her cooking station while you were watching over the noodles. It was her who noticed him at first—and it was her who told you to do your best and seduce him. 

And when you lifted your eyes, saw that thick mane of his cloudy hair, the cleft of his cheek as he gritted his jaw and then that picturesque hand of his, you sensed that unfamiliar, magnetic pull towards him that made you blush. And you never looked more like her than in that moment. 

For some reason you knew better than to not listen to her and do as she says. You felt it was the right decision, the right move and so you fixed your hair, swiped your flower clip through a half of it while your face-framing wisps fell naturally in front of your pink face. Your mom tossed you her lip gloss from the pocket of her apron and you brought him the ramyon she cooked for him. 

Smiled at him. Batted your eyelashes at him like your mother taught you throughout your girlhood and it worked. 

Namjoon told you were a breath of fresh air when you sashayed towards him after such an important, yet aggravating phone call, apologized for the inconvenience, bowed slightly. Balanced, most delightfully, respect and flirting. Leaned more towards the latter when he would steal glances at you and smile at you at every opportunity that your gaze would connect to his. 

Your heart hammered once he came to you to pay for his meal. Your mother stopped whatever it was that she was doing just to beam at him and he personally gave her a huge tip in cash—right into her right hand that he held. Turned to you and asked you if you’d like to have dinner with him sometime. 

And you agreed—without knowing he would get on your nerves in the long run. 

Namjoon was not a serious man, not as he appeared to be. Although he showed you the side of Seoul you would otherwise never have the option to see and feel with your entire being by taking you to luxurious dinners, cafés, art exhibitions and work events—the things he would say and the things he would do did not reflect those settings by any chance. 

He took you from rags to riches and you paid for it by being a victim of his odd form of cute aggression. 

The man would get you tangled up in your sentences because he simply enjoyed the view of you getting flustered. He found pleasure in revving you up enough for you to curse at him and growl at him, be it by bugging you with tickles, pokes or be it by making fun of you until you yourself laughed. 

There was nothing sexual about your relationship, if you could call it that. He didn’t hold your hand, he didn’t regard you hungrily as so many men do in his place, but he did look at you with the rawest form of purity. At your freckles—ones that made him give you the adorable nickname Lady Beetle—at your butterfly tattoo on your ankle that your dress would always expose from its natural criss-crossed position. The things he would say did not contain any hints of this leading into the bed. And he never kissed you, even though there were many occasions, where he looked like he was about to do it. 

He always held back. And while it, and everything else, made you pristinely fall for him, it also angered you so much that there was nothing else you wanted to do but to grab his head and kiss him madly. 

And the other day, you did. 

Leaned in after the heft of your shared tension grew too big for you to hide it in your hands—only for him to turn his head, slightly, and let you merely kiss his cheek. 

That was the final straw. And so you stopped agreeing to his “date” invitations until you stopped replying to his messages altogether. You thought he wasn’t going to have any part of you if he wasn’t willing to properly date you. 

And in your anger, you dwelled in the hole he left behind. The hole that was asking for his fatherly attention that caused you so much extraordinary joy. Your mother must’ve sensed it with her motherly instincts that he would occupy that place in your life, which your father didn’t. Your body missed laughing with him until your tummy hurt—and you missed him. And the more you did, the more your anger blazed. 

You couldn’t get rid of it. 

You tried exercising. You tried running around the block, only to never do it again because you couldn’t catch your breath and you thought you had almost died that day. You smoked a pack after pack, and that didn’t help either. 

Neither did abusing your cunt until you couldn’t go on anymore. Your anger burned down your bedroom and once you groaned and whined, punched the pillows and kicked your legs, your eyes fell upon the voucher you had pinned on your corkboard  

Your remedy was in front of you, and in the worst of your anger—you gave it a go. 

You filled out that application in the middle of the night, one that made you even hornier. And because you didn’t want to see any other man but Namjoon while you were getting your brain fucked out of your head, you chose the only option there was for that case. 

Glory hole. 

And the idea of it made your anger falter ever so slightly. You could imagine it was him pounding you through the barrier. The wall would only help your imagination.

Friday. Seven PM. You had to come two hours early because it was a necessity for you to shower at the place after you signed the contract. You also had to quickly think of a safe word, it was the only thing you foolishly forgot to fill out that day, as lost as you were within your flight of fancy. And because the employee standing in front of you made you anxious, you wrote down the first thing you thought of. 

Beetle. 

Your heart pounded, and when you let go of the pen, the gravity of the moment hit you. You truly were about to swim in a pool of sin only because the man you desperately wanted didn’t want you back. At least not in the way you wanted him to. 

The employee led you into the room, where your own personal sin would uncoil. A grandiose, large space, plucked out of a French chateau, with dark antique furniture, an easel with a painting you were quick to skip to in order to ogle at it. Your kitten heels clicked on the old, parquet floors that creaked, scuffed against the carpet that cost more than your yearly salary. It was a room that Namjoon would like—and it was a room that took your breath away. 

And the painting paused your blood flow. 

The Unequal Marriage by Vasili Pukirev.  

A painting of you, essentially, because you can’t have the man you yearn for. 

Your heart shrinks, painful pinpricks digging deeply into the flesh. You lift a finger and trace the despondent face of the bride, acknowledge yourself with that secret, yet vivid piece of your agony eternalized within the thickness of the brushstrokes. Her silver flower crown, the gossamer fabric of her veil, and finally her delicate hand. And in your soul, you hold it. 

You peek at the elderly groom and disgust seizes you. Because of the poor girl’s fate, because of your own. It feels as though you’re about to sin with that very man and you regret ever coming here. 

An emotion that you hurriedly shake off because your best friend paid a huge amount of money for you to experience a good time. Like she did. 

Your hand slaps back to your side. Your emotions, too. You will them to hide their starlight just for this one night. Hide their love for the man they can’t have. 

You turn around and glimpse upon a table with bottles of both champagne and wine. Think you need one at this moment; think your dream fulfiller would appreciate it if you poured him one, too. But having one sip of that dark liquid, you say fuck it and finish his glass as well. 

Undress. Take a shower. Weep under the stream. 

And the same employee waits for you when you emerge out of the bathroom in your robe. With manicured hands folded over her stomach, her eyes have softened a little bit, and abruptly, you realize how glad you are that a woman is accompanying you on this strange journey. If a man stood in her place, you would’ve already walked out and wasted your best friend’s money. 

“Mr. Kim wishes for you to be naked,” she says, her voice light, but firm. Your skin prickles with goosebumps—you bought a lacy red lingerie for the occasion, to help your imagination do its job to the fullest. A certain wisp of sadness clutches you that you won’t be able to wear it. 

Or… 

“What happens if I disobey?” you ask, gripping the thick lining of your bathrobe at your chest for mental support. The seriousness of the situation inches nearer and nearer and your stomach knots. 

She inhales, straightening up, as if she was about to leave this room. “Mr. Kim is not a regular, so I don’t know anything about this temper, but I would suggest respecting his wishes.” 

And she does, making space for your thoughts to whirl, and your eyes trace the flowers on the red Persian rug underneath your slipper-shod feet. 

He’s not a regular, so that means he’s not anything like the disgusting groom in the painting. He may be an ordinary person just like you, trying your luck in an unusual setting. Perhaps young, perhaps older—but normal. Not a lecher about to feast on your purity. 

Your stomach relaxes as do your muscles and you walk over to the bed to grab your make-up bag. Set yourself into the doll version of you that enjoys a male company with your eyeliner and glitter. Finish the process with a red tendril of lipstick over your mouth—just to leave behind a pleasant trace if the man ever decides to up the fun a little bit. 

Will it be fun? Or will you regret every second? 

An unanswerable question for your doll brain. You shake it off. Sit down at the edge of the bed and wait. 

Wait for him to fuck not just your anger, but your feelings out of your body. 

The woman emerges out of the bright light of the hall as if she was a housekeeper coming in to clean the hotel room. To a naked eye, it is not far from reality. This time, her softness has deepened so much that she bears a smile on her face. One, that you’re unsure of what it means. And one that relaxes your system to its finality. 

She raises a hand towards the double doors, in the direction of the easel with the painting, and nods, her smile unwavering. 

“You may proceed, miss, through this door. You can take off your robe now and get on the bed through the back of the cubicle. Mr. Kim will join you in five minutes.” 

Your breath shivers as you exhale. You thank her and she clicks the door shut behind her. Scurrying onto your feet, you gather as much bravery as you can. Your bathrobe plops down onto the bed. You give one last look to the unhappy bride in the painting before you open the door. 

You sense her encouraging you to go on—to live a life full of emancipation that she never got to grasp with her fist. And that, you find, is your bravery. 

The dimmed room, in size, mirrors the one you just walked out of. And it stares at you head-on. 

The cubicle the employee spoke of faces you to the right. A black-painted wooden little structure  with a hole in the middle, covered in leather that is cut into long fringes. The lower half of your body will stick out of it and you reckon it depends on Mr. Kim himself what he does with your legs—whether he pins them up using the restrains on the wood or if he holds them. 

The unknown lengthens and for the first time during this night, a small ribbon of excitement begins to swathe your chest. 

Next to the cubicle, in the far corner of the room, is a dresser. You believe the drawers are filled with toys, but the top is lined with dark bottles of alcohol that you recognize. European—Jack Daniel’s, Jim Beam. Suits the play house’s style, you guess. 

And on the left, a monumental bed that takes up the rest of the room. And it’s hung up from the ceiling.

You don’t have time to ogle it as time ticks, but while you run to the back of the cubicle like you were advised, you do notice that there are no paintings embellishing the walls. No person from the old age of time to witness the unfolding of your so-called dream. Sinful, sinful dream. 

Maybe that was done on purpose. Maybe you’re supposed to live this dream with the anonymous Mr. Kim in some way. 

The mattress inside the cubicle is made out of leather, but it is the strong scent of fresh wood that hits your nostrils. It is decorated with twinkle lights all around, giving it a comforting feel. One pair of restraints is installed into the walls as well, but you think it’s more for leverage than for the wishes of the dream fulfiller. Milky and silken, they stand out from the dark tones of it all, and you gaze at them for some kind of comfort as you strengthen your legs through the hole, the cold tassels drifting along your bare body sending sparks of strange delight up your stomach. You bite your lip at the sensation, scooching up to an awkward, almost sitting position so your legs don’t dangle out, but the backs of your knees press against the edge of the mat. 

You cross your ankles. 

And you wait, all over again. 

Wonder if you should touch yourself or if you should give the honors to Mr. Kim to make you ready for him, but the tassels, the sight of your hip bone tattoo that says angel… your nipples perk up on their own and maybe you’ve come to like the act of waiting for him. Or maybe you like the view of your nakedness at a peculiar place such as this. Of your angelic form bare and about to be taken back to heaven. 

Your stomach swarms with anxious morsels at that thought and you take a deep breath. At your exhale, you hear the door creak open and close with a certain tenderness that you immediately know it was used in order not to startle you. 

One point up for Mr. Kim. 

Maybe the Kim clan has good manners and thoughtfulness engraved in their DNA, but they’re men and disappointment always awaits you eventually—

His footsteps lead towards you, carrying that same tenderness. The sound of the muted thuds grow more and more distinct, no ounce of hurriedness lodged in them. A small fire begins to burn in you due to his evident patience, awakening your body, and you’re so, so surprised to detect such gentle arousal just from the energy he’s brought in. 

That, alone, causes you to curl in your coyness, but when you hear him huff out a gentle laughter, you instinctively squeeze your thighs first before you bury your face in your hands, your cheeks hot to the touch. 

Why is he laughing—

He places a large, warm palm on your knee. You flinch and his touch becomes heavier as if he was telling you not to be scared, its warmth begins to descend down your shin—and then lips. His breath wafts over your skin and he presses his lips against it as a way of greeting. 

It is the rule of this sexual practice—no speaking between the partners. And now that it’s unfolding in action, you find yourself absolutely enthralled by it.

You flutter all over, the apex of your inner thighs slick with the liquid expression of your arousal. Your heart pounds, touched by that unusual but kind gesture, and you’re curious for more. 

He rubs the place he kissed with his thumb and then… coldness. He must have withdrawn, straightened his posture, and a great oddity begins to take form in you. 

Your knees tremble, sensitive from his benevolence. 

And you wonder if he’s watching his creation, taking his time as he is for the next move. You long for it, timid, unsure of what to do with your hands. You flex them and unflex them on the leather, your lower limbs gaining momentum, and you feel your wetness trickling down onto the mat. You do well to stifle the mewls gathering in your throat and you yearn for those considerate hands of his to touch you everywhere—

He yanks you forward and, remarkably, the yelp that is flung out of you is hushed, not heard by his ears. At least you hope so—you don’t want to get in trouble, turn that kindness of his around. You’d regret that, and you’d regret that very much. 

Mr. Kim spreads your legs apart, but your femininity is concealed by those suspended tassels that tease your core, your clit, and your hip bones, the most sensitive and vulnerable parts of you. A great dose of pleasure surges through you from it and from the way those fingers of his glide upon the inner of your thigh. He reaches as far as where your shiny stain is. A low, deep breath is exuded from his chest when he feels it and he smears it along your pelvic bone and a little bit on one of your folds. 

He heightens your tremor by doing that. 

You feel bad for reacting like that, but you can’t help it—neither can you stop it. You try to keep your body still and through the opening you can see him propping his hand on your thigh, watching you do so, as if he won’t continue until he knows you’ve regained your composure. And something about that, in its own way, helps you, and it helps you tremendously. 

With his palm flat, he caresses your flesh in a circular motion to praise you for it, lifting his hand upwards and beyond your sight. Your stomach undulates and it is now that you notice the navy blue of his dress pants, the growing tent that takes shape in the middle, and owing to the calmness and the sense of safety he’s installed within you, you do the boldest thing you’ve ever done, save for leaning in to kiss Namjoon nearly two weeks ago. 

Turned on from the sight of his arousal, you grab a hold of the tassel and you begin to provoke him, deciding that you want his manhood to grow. Because of the way he treats you, you deem he deserves it. 

You move, smooth, the leather strip along your cunt, collecting your slick. You shift your hips in circles, the fabric cool and sensual in a way you never thought it would be. Your breaths come out whiny the longer you do it and when you change the direction and move up and down, you can hear his breaths, too. And maybe the blackness of the walls are messing with your mind, but you could’ve sworn, his secret noises have become whiny just the same once you pressed the tassel against your swollen clit. 

And it isn’t until you naturally feel the back of his leg with the ball of your foot that he lets you see how much your little show advanced his arousal. The print of is cock is prominent, thick in the tightness of his pants, and you want it. 

You no longer want Namjoon’s. You want his. 

The plan worked. 

And with a smile of a winner gracing your features, to celebrate you start to make yourself feel delightful. You rub your clit, still with the strip, biting your lips in order to suppress your moans, the pleasure more vivacious this time around. He’s not palming himself, he’s not doing anything at all but watching you, his hands by his sides, and perhaps to reward him—you let go of the tassel. 

You let him see your pussy. 

Shiny, swollen and needy, asking for a man you haven’t seen and won’t even see. 

How sinful, how titillating. You can’t wait to have a cigarette after this. 

His cock twitches and it beguiles you, the way your hand, without your conscious knowing, extends out and reaches for it through the hole. Your femininity, your sexuality—brazen and alive, unafraid and illimitably splendid. 

And in this situation, it is a thing of absolute sublimity, the act of him inching forward and letting you touch him, feel your own creation the way he felt his. You want his number, you want to make him come. You want him to take you out and you want to show it off on your Instagram story, hiding everyone else from seeing it except for Namjoon. A devilish laughter pricks at your throat, desperate to be heard. You sense how heavy his cock must be, how strong, how hard. It’s impossible for you to suck it as he’s not allowed to see your face, but you know the idea of it will haunt your daydreams—

He grasps a hold of your wrist, silencing your thoughts, and you hold your breath. He slides his grip down to your hand and he makes you squeeze him, his length, his balls. Your hole clenches, even your features scrunch up in need, and with your other hand you begin to help yourself, but he stops you. 

Pins your hands down on the leather. Maneuvers to firmly grapple both of your wrists on top of your tummy and uses his free hand to push you forward a little bit. Your legs dangle out, uncomfortably, and he’s so attuned to you that he notices. Leads your leg to wrap around him, the other one two, and if it weren’t for the mattress jutting out, you and him would be flush to each other. 

Body to body. 

He sucks in a breath at the first contact of his thumb and your clit. He must feel how swollen it is and he dips down to your hole, circling it there, gathering your arousal before he returns to that needy flesh, continuing his circles there. Slow, slow circles that make you writhe on the mat, the leather creaking. You lament that he can’t attach his mouth to it, regret that you chose this option because of your foolish feelings, and despite the fact you thought your plan worked and Mr. Kim alleviated your anger, the emotion bursts within you. 

Your muscles tense, your lips flatten in a tight line, your fists in his hold clench, and you’re angry. Angry, angry, angry. Hateful of your life, hateful of your body, of your heart. And in the middle of the explosion, you make a mistake. 

You growl. 

He stops his circles. 

Time beats two times before you’re yanked out of the hole, your feet landing on the parquet floors with that familiar gentleness the man bears. 

And the man… 

The man is no other but Kim Namjoon himself. The source, the epitome of your anger. 

And you feel nothing. Your shock evens out through every fraction of your nerve endings, paralyzing you. Time ceases its beats here—while you stare up at him and he stares down at you. Namjoon isn’t seized by the shock like you are, though. He begins to laugh, darkly, hushedly, humorlessly. Slides his hands into the pockets of his pants and takes a step back. 

Embeds life into time. 

“I fucking knew it was you,” he rasps, that laughter melting into nothingness until the gravity of this situation spreads across this sinful room. Heavy, heavy energy. You should feel ashamed at this very moment, you should cover yourself up, but you don’t. You don’t do anything. “I read your safe word. I thought it was a coincidence, life making fun of me. And then, I saw your butterfly tattoo, but tattoos can lie to me and it was too good to be true. But that growl… that growl of yours can’t lie to me. I know it like I know myself.”

Your growl was your response to his never-dying teasing. If he tickled you, nudged you, bugged you, the only way you would make it stop was by letting out that vexed noise of yours—and it would work. He’d laugh to himself and withdraw his hands. 

You part your mouth, but you can’t say anything. Your shock rises in you like a tidal wave that submerges in you and you drown. 

Then, a perplexing song of a mockingbird breezing through the wind outside sounds out within the room, saying things your body is unable to. 

Namjoon blinks, taken aback by your lack of retort. No words, no growls. Merely the song crooning along the spaciousness of the atmosphere. He licks his lips. 

“Why did you stop replying to my messages?” he asks, and you find it obscene that he’s inquiring about this when you’re all bare, trembling, and with your arousal dripping down your inner thighs. If anything, he should be asking you what you’re doing here, but it’s like the fact isn’t news to him. 

And what you don’t know is that he pours life into you with his bizarreness. 

Your first reaction is to scoff. Your second is to bash your fists against his chest, pushing him a step back. And Namjoon… he smirks. As if he succeeded in his plan—pulling you out of your state of shock into a blooming garden of your emotions, where you can run, where you can scream and where you can inflict violence. 

Where you can speak. 

“Why did I stop replying to your messages?” you throw it back at him, your voice rising in volume, and Namjoon straightens, delightfully watches you be full of life. “You think you can share your life with me, take me on dates, pay for me and leave it at that? Turn your head when I try to kiss you? Do you think I’m some kind of lady companion—”

“No,” he interrupts, tilting his chin up, his dominance on full display with the deepness of his voice, the width of his shoulders and his powerful stance. You drip for him, but you’re as powerful as he is. You’re equal—equally tangled up in the same sin. “You’re my Lady Beetle, aren’t you?” 

Your breath hitches, your nipples hardening, and your wetness is so, so uncomfortable, trickling down your flesh. And he provokes the pressure of your arousal in your core by that nickname, even more so when he lifts a finger and traces the freckles upon your right shoulder, the meaning behind that term of endearment, from his distance. Even more so when he sinks his fingers into the hair on the nape of your neck, uttering his following words. 

“Get back inside the cubicle.” 

But you’re not obeying. You don’t know his temper either, but you are getting yourself into trouble. And you’re not getting fucked until you know that he reciprocates your feelings. 

And you know what to do. 

“Kiss me,” you murmur, crossing the distance, inching towards his face. Namjoon tilts his head down, his lips nearly brushing against yours, and that’s all he does, nudging your anger. “Kiss me, Namjoon, or I’m walking out of this room.” 

He lets the tension simmer, unblinking, consuming your eyes from this close proximity. And when he opens his mouth, you think he’s about to kiss you, but you’re mistaken. Deadly, deadly mistaken. 

“Did you come here to forget about me?” he whispers, inching even closer until your nipples graze against the soft material of his sweater, hums in question when you don’t answer. Lifts your chin to make you look at him when your eyes stray away, your anger bubbling in you. He perceives the real you, always has, and you don’t have to say a word. Only a person intertwined with your soul could be able to do this; why won’t he act on it? 

“Did you come here to look for me?” you whisper back, pressing your torso against him until your breasts squish against his hard chest. His still hard manhood pokes you in your tummy, harder than it was when you touched him earlier, and wrap your arms around him, your hands traveling all across the width of his back until they wander down his loins, even lower to his buttocks. 

He pants, but his voice is not affected by the whirlwind of his emotions. Delicious, delicious whirlwind.

“Yes,” he says, firmly, flattening his lips and growling when you squeeze his butt. You enjoy those selfish touches so much that your grin illuminates the room, a ball of light amidst all this darkness. Your anger watches on, stunned. “What do you think? If I wanted to move on, I wouldn’t have chosen a fucking glory hole out of all the options. I’m not like you. I don’t give up. I’m patient.” 

“Patient…” You taste those words on your tongue, dwelling on them. They’re bittersweet, and you stand in the middle of your decision whether you like them or not. “What are you waiting for?” 

He sighs, lifting his hands and digging his fingertips into your ribs, holding you to him. You mirror his movements, and you let out that strained breath of yours when he bends his head and places a singular, wet kiss onto the side of your neck. 

You had asked him to kiss you, even though you didn’t specify where, but you didn’t expect your body to tingle this much and grow boneless in his unfailing hold. You cling to him with all your might—there’s nothing left for you to do. 

You’re his. Have been his since the moment you saw his watch. 

And you can’t believe you haven’t noticed that Cartier adornment when you were ogling his manhood. 

He brushes away a wispy strand of your hand before returning it back to its rightful place. “You deserve the world and I’m not there yet to give it to you. And you’re not gonna look for it elsewhere, I’m not letting that happen. I’m gonna give it to you.” 

Honesty is here at last, the explanation to his distance. You hide the fluttering joy that opens in your chest, but you do let him see the smile that begins to curve your lips. He likes you; you can live at peace now. No more anger, no more daydreams. 

“Kim Namjoon,” you breathe out, moving your hands to his sides. “Is that a promise I hear?” 

He nods, tilting his head to the side as his pupils grow large. “Yes, that’s a promise. The last relationship I was in fucked me up, but I’m gonna get right, and I want you to hold onto that promise.” 

You hum. “What does that mean for us right now?” 

He smirks, that cheek cleft enchanting you all over again. “If you want kisses, then kisses is what you’re gonna get.” 

Your smile lengthens until your cheeks hurt, heated. “I want kisses. Lots of kisses. On different places of my body, too.” 

Namjoon retreats back to your neck, peppering kisses along that column. You whimper, hands hurrying to undo the button of his pants, desperate and arbitrary. But with a disapproving noise, Namjoon stops your hasty movements. Pins your hands behind your back.

“Patience,” he whispers, gliding his lips across the kisses he left behind. Your skin prickles with goosebumps against him, your nipples so stiffened that they ache, and, most unfortunately, you moan softly in impatience. “You’re gonna learn what true patience is, little beetle.” 

Color heats your cheeks and as you grin, you bite your bottom lip. “Be my teacher, Namjoon.” 

He chokes out a groan, dizzied by the idea, one that fades into your yelp when he unexpectedly turns you around and pushes your back against his chest, your arms long and criss-crossed behind you, hands flat against his cock. 

Something tells you this lesson will be one of great difficulty for you. And of great pleasure. 

Namjoon cups your jaw, swivels your head to face him a little. “Where do you want those kisses?” 

Your quivering breath fans out across his big hand. “On my nipples.” 

At your quick answer, he makes a sound of approval and with a feathery-light touch he sails his knuckles down the right side of your chest, from your collarbone down to the beginning of your supple breast, where he stops his voyage to study your reaction. As much as you’d die for his fingers to go a little lower, you keep your tremors in tact. Even your fingers remain obedient, relaxed in their position and not tempting his temper. You close your eyes, try your bestest to hold it while you wait it out, and your slick by now creates a pool between your feet. Namjoon’s cock twitches at your goodness and he sighs a little praise into your ear, just for you to hear. It roots deeply in your gut, where it stirs the butterflies that are painted in the color of his eyes. 

His knuckles descend lower and lower, stop at the apex of your nipple, and the nearness is enough for you to stoop in your desperation. 

Something you shouldn’t have done.

Namjoon slaps that pointy flesh, coaxing such a filthy moan out of you that it reverberates through the room. The harshness, intertwined with the swift stimulation of your nipples spreads a buzzing sensation down your body, settling in your aching clit, and the loud noise you let out echoes in small whimpers, wordless pleas for more. He becomes harder in your hands, as if he could translate them, and the temptation croons at you again, telling you to squeeze him. This time, you can’t really hold back. This time, you want him to do it again.

On the other breast. 

You squeeze him, the weight of his cock an inexplicable experience that drives you to a point of carnal madness. You slide your palms along that thick length and the way he’s quiet, unspeaking, unbreathing, puzzles you and alarms you simultaneously. 

You look behind you. Catch his features screwed up in such pleasure that you whimper again, announcing that you’ve seen him in his weakest. And Namjoon is brought back into his teacher mode. He allowed himself that fraction of time for his own pleasure, perhaps for yours, too, and you’ve never discovered something so imposing. 

Your sexuality and his, interwoven, a thing of glory more magnificent than this playhouse itself. 

“Little beetle, you’re just so naughty, aren’t you?” he rasps into your ear, pressing you against him with both of his arms wrapped around your chest, nuzzling his face into your neck. He kneads your breasts hard before he slaps them, both at the same time, and you make such a mess. “So impatient, so desperate to touch and be touched. What am I gonna do with you? Can you even learn, hm?” 

Knead. Slap. Namjoon tweaks your nipples, circles them with his fingers, filling your body with such pleasure that your knees nearly give out on you. And he holds you to him by your neck, a firm grip that conveys to you that from now on, he won’t be very nice. 

And you don’t really mind. 

“Get back inside the cubicle so I can deal with you accordingly,” he mutters his order, tracing the shell of your ear with his puffy lips before he latches onto your earlobe, sucking it into his mouth briefly, making you cry out. “Do you know what happens to girls who can’t be helped?” 

Your voice is strained, impossible to use. “No.” 

“They get spanked and fucked so hard that they forget who they are,” he reveals, sailing his hands back down your body, flicking your nipples on the way, before his palms anchor at the V-shape of your private parts. He plays with your folds, stimulating your clit in that way without touching it. You grind your hips into his movements, seeking more, but he slaps your pussy for it, halting you. “That’s the only way they get salvaged.” 

And then he lets go of you. And the look he gives you is so lecherous, so dirty that your legs are jelly as you scurry to the end of the glory hole cubicle, thinking that this entire moment is speckled with glory that will haunt you for the rest of your days. 

You get back into position, your legs dangling out, and Namjoon repeats his voyage. Sails, sails down your tummy before anchoring at the mound of your cunt, but this time he doesn’t gratify you with any delight. He continues down your wet thighs and, abruptly, he turns you over, pushing you forward so your bum shows fully, your tippy toes touching the floor.

The tassels are warm and saturated with the dew of your arousal, tickling the small of your back. 

“Now listen to me,” he says, his fingers wandering all around your flesh, but not where you want him the most. “I’m not Namjoon at this moment. I’m not your teacher. In your mind, you’re gonna go back to who you thought I was before I showed myself to you. Mr. Kim. And you’re gonna address me as so, do you understand?” 

Your brows furrow and you curve your body to the side in question, not understanding this sudden change of the play. You may have wanted this fictional Mr. Kim more than you wanted Namjoon but that was before you found out that he felt the same way as you. 

“Why?” 

He massages the round, graceful cheeks of your bum, propelling you to rest your torso flat on the mat, comfortably. “Because you deserve it. Because your Namjoon isn’t where he’s supposed to be yet. So I’m not fucking you as Namjoon, I’m fucking you as Mr. Kim. This is the only time you’re getting fucked before I get right, so I suggest you enjoy every second.”

You gasp at his words, but your hole reacts first before you do, opening and closing all for his eyes to see—and they do. And he likes the view so much that he takes his thumb and perseverates the brief motion, your center coating his digit in sopping wetness. Your hips follow him and this time, he lets you. He gives you a moment to comprehend your future full of pure possibilities and kisses and you detect in your soul no disapproval. Because you’re rewarded with his heart in the end, it’s worth it. 

His heart is one of gold, one that won’t perish. 

You’ve seen it in the way he treated your mother, in the way he would stop his teasing when you had enough. In the respect he has towards you because he isn’t ready for a relationship. In the promise he gave you, even though that gold is scratched. 

You love him, and because of that you shall play his game. 

“Yes, Mr. Kim.” 

He kisses the fleshiest part of your bum, wetly, humming into your skin—another reward. 

“That’s a good girl,” he praises, nibbling the place he gave love to. “Try staying one.” 

You mewl, grinding into his face, desirous for a release. “Yes, sir.” 

He draws back and chuckles. “Look at you, so good all of a sudden when you’re all spread for me. You’re still getting spanked, little girl.” 

You whine, pretending that you don’t like what awaits you, when in reality you can’t wait. “Can I get another kisses after?” 

His laughter roars through the room. “Where do you want them?” 

“On my pussy, Mr. Kim.” 

He growls, swearing, his hands nowhere to be found on your body. “You’ll get lots of kisses on your pussy if you take these spanks well. Can you count them down for me?” 

You nod, but you quickly realize that he can’t see you. Your dusky world pirouettes and you’ve tumbled into a state of haziness, needing his firm hand, his dependable stability. “Yeah, I can.” 

Namjoon coos, his palm back on your bum, fondling it. “Good. Do you remember your safe word? You’re still getting those kisses if you use it, darling.” 

You dissolve into the leather, your body limp, but you do remember the magic word of utmost adoration. “Beetle.” 

A kiss on your flesh. “That’s it. Perfect. Does someone you know call you by that nickname?” he asks and you giggle, the comfort and the safety of the moment almost lulling you to sleep. “From ten, little beetle.” 

And he rouses you from your sleepiness by landing a sharp spank on the cheek that he made so tender. The pain is so acute, so good that you almost forget to utter out the number, swimming in the sensation as you are, but Mr. Kim isn’t upset by it. No, he helps you. 

“What number was that?” 

“Ten.” 

“Ten, that’s right. You’re doing so good.” 

Mr. Kim’s kindness enters you all over again, liquifies between your legs, and you moan out. The following sting of his palm is greater than the previous one and your chest arches off the leather, but you like it. Even though he doesn’t alleviate the spank, lets only the air make it better, you still like it—so much that you don’t make a mistake and count it down. 

“Nine.” 

And he repeats it after you, spanking you again and again until the skin of your left cheek is inflamed, burning red, and the perception of the pricks is too much for you to handle. But taking after him, you don’t give up. Grit your jaw, flex your fists, scream out the numbers until you reach one and that side of your bum feels numb. 

And Mr. Kim praises you for it so lasciviously that you can only whine in response, your little noises muffled by the leather. 

“Good girl. You took your punishment so well. Your ass is so prettily red, oh my God. You’re gonna get those kisses now. So, so many of them until you come all over my tongue. Spread your legs even more for me.”

You do as he says, mind blank, and you hear the thud of his knees hitting the floor. That alone makes you drool, the sound of his submission, let alone his satisfied groan when he attaches his mouth to your pussy lips.

And you can’t voice out the surplus of your emotions, the unrestrained joy that you feel because you’re being eaten out by a man that you love, but because of their boisterous nature, they come out nonetheless. Out of your tear ducts, out of the corner of your mouth in the form of drool and little muted noises that are impossible for anyone to hear but you. And you fail him. You can’t imagine a fictional person sucking on your clit like that, that feels as though your soul is being yanked out of you like you were so many times upon this night. No, only Namjoon can do this to you—and so, privately, you bask in it. In Namjoon’s tongue swirling circles on your clit; in Namjoon’s lips sucking them so hard that you lose track of time, surroundings and your own being. In Namjoon’s hands shaking your bum in his face; in his fingers rubbing rapid side-to-side motions on your wet clit from the front when he fucks you with his tongue from the back. 

You’re transported to a place that is neither heaven nor paradise. A place he, himself, must have brought into existence by the energy of his utter devotion for you. And you make it real when you come—sprinkle him with the fountain of your essence that contains the molecules of the universe he created for you. And you float, you float, you float. And he seizes the gravity by praising you for squirting for him, for coming so well and making the best of your so-deserved kisses. 

And then his pants flop to the floor, his sweater—until the only things he’s wearing are his watch, his bracelet and his affection for you. You turn your body halfway so you can see him, the wholeness of his manliness that is aching for you, dripping for you like you’re dripping for him, and his cock is so hard that it points up to his abdomen. You’ve never seen anything like this before and you grow so savagely hungry for it that you begin to suck on your index finger.

Purposefully loudly, smacking your mouth. 

Namjoon chuckles, darkly, and the warmth of that expression of his pulsates in you. “Oh, you’ll be sucking on this cock, too, don’t you worry, my beetle. I just need to feel your pussy around me.” 

Oh, the slip-up. He feels this on the same wavelength as you—no Mr. Kim, no anonymity. Only Namjoon and you. If you were unsure of his feelings before, you can’t be unsure now. The universe he created palpitates around you and you’re so drunk on all of this new knowledge that when he buries himself inside your heat, you can’t let him in. Your walls are compressing so tightly with your still-yet growing arousal that you clamp down on him, but at the sound of his torturous moans, you suck him in. 

And he doesn’t go easy on you. 

With his hard, hard, and long shaft he begins to fuck you, violently. He rams into you without any mercy, lifting your leg onto the mat and entering you more deeply, curling his hips to kiss and kiss your cervix again and again. His strokes are reverberated throughout your whole body—your nipples rub against the leather, your head rocks against it in a way that turns you feral, you gag on your finger, your clit is teased with those relentless pounds. You’re helpless, but also boundless, being fucked like that, and you realize, with your dumb, blank and empty brain, that you’re extensively getting your best friend’s money’s worth. 

And Namjoon elevates your experience. 

He reaches through the hole and roughly captures your hair in his fist, popping your finger out of your mouth. Decides it’s not enough, decides you’ve had enough of the hole time and he pulls you out, all while still being inside of you. Straightens you against him, grasps your jaw while his other hand slips down to your clit. 

And the side-to-side motions are brutal. Mean. So dominant in the way he keeps the contact light, barely stimulating you, but stimulating you, regardless. 

“You think you can gag on your little finger and that it does nothing to me?” he scolds, pinching your clit, and your growl is scratchy, raspy, so fucked out. He’s reprimanding you, but his words don’t reflect his actions. Namjoon kisses you everywhere he can reach. Ear, cheek, jaw, neck. So frantically, so impatiently. “Have you learned nothing?” 

You pant, your orgasm so awfully close from being bound but unbound at the same time, fucked slowly and torturously as Namjoon begins to move, grinding against you. But he has to stop—because if he doesn’t, you’re gonna come all over his cock, right in the center of this room. He’s teasing your build-up, just like you imagined he would, letting it rise and letting it fall in short intervals. 

But he has pity on you, stemming from his affection. A cold, cold pity that you need for the heat rippling through you. 

“Get on the bed. On your knees.” 

He pulls himself out of you and urges you forward—towards the hanging bed. And you don’t care to ponder if it will move under your weight. All you can think about is his dick as you crawl onto that bed that does not wobble at all, but remains perfectly offset. You sit back on your folded legs and wait for him—watch him take those leisurely, effortless steps like he did at the start of this evening. Only this time, you get to see it with your eyes. His tall height, his swaying shoulders, flat abdomen and that hard cock, glistening with your slick. Carmine, aching. 

You lick your lips. Prop yourself on your knuckles in front of you, back arched. Realize he kissed you everywhere, but on your mouth. And so you pout—and you make puppy eyes at him. 

He smooths down a flyaway on your sweaty hairline, endeared. “What’s wrong?” 

“You haven’t kissed me on the lips.” 

Namjoon smiles down at you, dejectedly. Curls your hair behind your ear, grabs you by the back of your neck, calls to attention all the butterflies in your tummy. “I’m sorry.” 

And he captures your mouth. As Namjoon, as a golden-hearted man that longs to give you the world, and you can vividly feel it. Mr. Kim doesn’t exist anymore and Namjoon seals that fact in when he prods his tongue inside, toying with yours before retreating back, moaning into the kiss. 

A kiss that was more than a kiss. 

And you have to kiss him again when he takes a moment to breathe. You have to devour him, clasp your hand around his wet cock as you do so—and Namjoon has to push your head down, fucking your mouth until your tears freely escape from all directions. He grips your hair tight, holds you to him from the side, plunging in and out of your throat however he pleases, your gagging noises encouraging him to possess every inch of you. Your mascara zigzags down your face in clumps—and once Namjoon’s pity flickers in him all over again, he lifts you and kisses you so nastily that you fade into nothingness. 

Then, you’re on your back and he pounds that nothingness. Uses your thighs as leverage as you’re just laying there, a hole and nothing else. Perhaps the cubicle changed your life to such an extent that you’ve become it. You shall never forget it—even now it is scattered all across your vision as you’re fucked into oblivion, the skin-slapping sounds and your pussy squelching around him accompanying your memory of the dark wood, the fairy lights, the restraints you never used.

The sex was too personal, too intimate for you to do so. Even before you discovered that Mr. Kim was Namjoon. Your body recognized his, your mind too blind, too preoccupied with your anger that is now healed. 

As if Namjoon could read your thoughts, he pumps into you with a hard thrust, eternalizing it. 

“Focus on me,” he growls and you squeak, hiccuping into every movement. It feels as though he’s blocking your throat with how deeply he’s ravaging you and you can only nod. 

You can only moan his name. 

“Namjoon. Yes, yes, yes—oh, Namjoon.” 

He laughs, that articulation of his joy abating in your mouth as he bends to kiss you, fully buried in you. And then he pulls out, presses his heavy cock on your cunt, lifts your head by grabbing your hair, consuming your mouth as if you were everything he ever lacked in his life. 

“Grind your pussy on it, it’s yours, my little beetle.” 

You whine, pucker your mouth against his, spinning your hips in circles, his cock so wet and so sticky from your happy juices. 

“Joonie, Joonie bug.” 

He closes his eyes, moaning all in your face, the principle of you softening and connecting his persona to yours absolutely ruining him. He tightens his grip on your hair, sinks himself inside you with his other hand and then sticks those soaked fingers inside your mouth. All four of them, gagging you. 

“Little beetle and big Joonie bug, hm. How do we taste?” His tone is so low that it penetrates your skin, paralyzing your senses until only one remains. Until all you know is the bitter-sweetness of his precum and the tanginess of your slick. And he doesn’t draw his fingers back, he continues to control your gags until he paints your face in another set of pretty black tears. “Tell me. How do we taste?” 

You growl around him, the sound he knows, and he pounds you for it, a thrust that hurts but feels good at the same time. You suck on his fingers, a trail of your drool trickling down from your connection, and Namjoon grunts. Slides his fingers out of your mouth and places them right on your clit. 

Rapid, rapid rubs. And equally rapid strokes. 

“Come,” he orders, and it’s like he flicked his fingers and made your body come. You didn’t have to do a thing. “Good. Finally. It feels so good, doesn’t it? Coming around my cock after all this time. Joonie bug is right there with you. Just a little bit more.” 

He’s given life to your orgasm by his words. A storm erupts, clearing out everything negative that was ever seeped throughout your soul. Your body quakes, submitted to him through and through, at his disposal to make himself come—until your orgasm is so milky that you can’t see. Your vision is dotted with white, with tiny glazing stars that must be hung up in the sky just like this bed. And Namjoon brings you to him, lips to lips, needing you as he fucks you through your mutual release, and those stars splotch him with their dust. 

You squirt all over him, for the second time around. And you don’t stop, the twitching of his cock, the warmth of his cum as he keeps stuffing you full of it, the unfaltering hardness of his thick shaft roll in your tiny orgasms, those little fountains of boundless pleasure that drench him, give him the likeness of those stars. He’s turned on your squirting ability and there’s no way back. No, no way back. 

Namjoon is exhausted as he pulls out—and you already feel so empty, so lonely. His cum streams out of you, staining the bed, and it saddens you so much that you reach into your heat to collect it, plunging your fingers into your mouth, eating him. And you moan, at his male taste, for the last time. 

“Fuck, don’t do that. I can’t go again.” He wipes down his face, a gleaming man that has your entire identity woven into his veins that run all across his arms, and you love him. You love him so drastically that you can’t get on your feet on your own, can’t make a decision of your own, can’t live without him. 

He fucked you so well that he attached you to himself. 

A wave of strange emotions engulf you. 

“Namjoon,” you whimper, tears burning each corner of your eyes, and you don’t know what to do, you don’t know what is happening. He lifts his head, round eyes blinking, and he’s so quick to cradle you into his arms, letting you cling to him, letting you wrap your legs around his torso like a baby. And that’s precisely how you feel—like a baby. 

“Talk to me,” he encourages, caressing your back in circles, and you moor your face in his neck, inhaling his individual bodily scent. So masculine, so heady, so intoxicating. You sob, running your fingers through his misty, blond-streaked hair, needing to be even closer to him than is physically possible. 

Namjoon shushes you, kissing your shoulder, giving you the strength to speak, giving you the identification of what you’re feeling. 

“This was so intense,” you croak out and Namjoon hums, halting his touch to focus on you wholly. “Emotionally. I feel much closer to you. Too close.” 

And he’s not running out of things to give you. He gives you kisses on your neck that bear no sexual context—romantic, reassuring kisses that ease up your muscles, that part the raging thunder of your emotions. And he gives you such comfort that you feel as though you’re floating upon an open body of water, as free as a human being can be. 

“What we did was intense but it was right. What you’re feeling is normal. I’m feeling it, too. We’ve been hiding our feelings for so long and we let them out just now, so it’s overwhelming. It’s okay. You’re good. Such a good girl, my good little lady beetle, tiniest girl beetle in the whole universe. I will protect you from the other bugs. Let’s get this make-up off, hm?” 

You nod, sob and laugh softly at that solace. Namjoon carries you into the shower. Lets the cold water streak down on you while you shield yourself from it, nearly slipping off his grasp. Namjoon chuckles, hoisting you higher, taking a step back to wash you completely clean. You scream and his chuckle deepens, getting you away from the iciness by pressing you against the tiles. 

He truly won’t stop teasing you. 

The water turns warm by the time he fetches the make-up remover. Pouring some on a large cotton pad, he cleanses the remnant of your sex tears, the physical memory of how good he fucked you and how he bound your soul to his. He’s careful around your eyes, focusing so intently that his lip is caged between his teeth. Once he’s finished, he kisses you—with Mr. Kim’s gentleness. 

Washes you clean, especially thoroughly between your legs. Embraces you in the shower and lets you feel—creates a safe space for your feelings. 

And then he’s dressing you in the clothes you came here in. A dark green dress that ends at your ankles. He makes sure to kiss your butterfly tattoo as he smooths down the skirt and you think you’re ready to marry him. 

You want to meet his mother. Not now, not after what you’ve done together. But someday soon. And you want your mother to meet his. 

“I need a cigarette,” you comment as he’s scrunching your hair with a towel. He himself has changed into a pair of clean black dress pants and a plain white shirt, almost oversized. An outfit that made your mouth water. “Like right now. And at least two.” 

He huffs out a laugh. “You can smoke on the balcony. I’ll have one with you. Do you want a drink?” 

Your eyes light up. Your whole body, too. 

Placing a bathrobe around your shoulder, he gently slaps your butt and guides you forward to the balcony. He grabs that bottle of red wine you had opened and joins you.

Two chairs, one small round table in the middle. The view of the entire Seoul city and a fucking statue in the corner of the balcony. 

A beautiful girl, half dressed. The fabric of her forever garment falls off her chest and you’ve never seen a more spectacular sculpture in your life. You enkindle your cigarette and touch her cool face, feel yourself immersed in her seductive beauty. One day you shall be just like her—once Namjoon comes to collect you. Not a doll, but a girl. 

“Take a picture of me,” you say, getting into position, only to realize that Namjoon has been snapping pictures of you while you were acknowledging yourself with the statue. With a cigarette hanging limply in the corner of his mouth. 

You can’t love him any deeper. 

You pose with her. Mirror her body language, even shake off your bathrobe and let your straps fall off your body like her. Private pictures just for him and for you—a reminder for what awaits you. 

A future full of pure possibilities. And sex, lots of and lots of sex. 

𓂃 ౨ৎ LOVE-KISSED BABIES: @tkslovechild , @jjk7k , @parkinglot-nights , @bethvar , @Sexytholland , @yoongibaybee , @crystaleah ,@fennecnco, @lil-kpopstan , @euphoricmyth , @jungkoock , @cinmmongirl , @hoseokkie-caeks , @kam9404 , @fr0ggieth1nk .

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

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[muffinpink02]

It’s not what you know, it’s who you know -

Hello lovelies! So this is my first “Reader POV” story. And my first Alexia Putellas story. But you can find me on ao3! Muffinpink02 With my other stories.

Summary - Your best friend has invited you to be a plus one for an award show for women’s sports. You don’t have a clue about sport, so when a certain blonde comes and flirts with you, you can’t help but flirt back. But can she keep your attention?

Sorry if I haven’t posted this right, first time on here.

Warnings : SMUT, 18+ fingering, strap, orgasm denial, cunnilingus, restraint and more. 12k +words

You were running late as usual.

Well, it was only by 5 minutes, not too late for your standard, but you knew Daisy would already know that. You were always late. It wasn’t like she cared, she was your best friend, she might tease you about your horrendous time keeping but she loved you, she wouldn’t hold it against you.

Finally, you arrived at your guys favourite pub. You hurried in to see your childhood best friend sitting by the window, drinking her classic red, and what looked like your go to choice of drink sitting on a beer mat in front of her. You smiled as you approached her, it had been a month since you last saw each other. She’d been soo busy with work lately, you was aware she was working on something big with her current clients, you wasn’t sure on who they were but it was some kind of trophy. Or was it a statue?

“Daisy!” You shouted.

She looked up from her phone, a huge smile on her face. “Well, well. Look who’s nearly on time, this is early for you!” Daisy laughed as she grabbed you in for a hug.

“Don’t jinx it!” You laughed as you sat down. You grabbed the drink in front of you. “Ahh you’re an angel. Thank you, D.”

“You’re welcome. So, tell me how’s life? What have I missed?”

You caught up on everything, you finally learned that it was an award that Daisy had been working on, something to do with women’s sport, football to be precise. You could tell from the way she spoke about it that she was excited and proud of herself, and you loved to see it, you were always her biggest cheerleader.

“So it’s being awarded next week, and I get to bring a plus one.” She eyed you up excitedly.

“I’m there. What’s the dress code?” You asked.

“Yay! Brilliant! So it’s fancy but not fancy there will be free drinks, food and a lot of fit athletes. Definitely ones you would love.”

“Sorry? Am I just a big old tart? I’m there to support you…but I mean if there will be fit girls then it’s a win, win.” You smiled at her playfully.

Daisy rolled her eyes and laughed. “Yeah, yeah. Ohh and a car will pick us up, so come to mine before and we can have some pre drinks.”

“Perfect. Tell me a time and I’ll be there. And I’ll be on time. I promise.” You winked.

——————-

You indeed kept your promise. It may have been the first time ever in your grown up life that you were actually on time, 6 minutes early in fact. You knocked on Daisy’s door and of course the pure shock on her face was worth it.

“No. You’re on time? You’re early? What?” She opened her door wider to let you in.

You walked in, a smug smile on your face. “Yeah, but don’t get used to it.”

Daisy laughed as she followed you into the kitchen, grabbing you both drinks for tonight.

“I love what you’re wearing, D.”

She poured you both Prosecco, handing you your glass. “Thank you. I normally hate dressing up like this but I actually like this dress. Let me see yours in person, it looked so nice in the picture.”

You took your jacket off, revealing a simple but chic, black cami mini dress, that showed off your curves just perfectly. The chest was low-cut, displaying a healthy amount of your breast, but not enough for it to look tacky. It had an open slit to the side of your thigh, exposing some skin, but enough to look sexy. And if you were going to toot your own horn, yeah, you would say you looked good tonight.

“Yes. I love this! I won’t be surprised if you get one of the athletes trying to talk to you. You look fucking hot!” Daisy smiled.

“Pshh I wish. But here’s hoping.” You raised your glass as you took sip. “Anyways, I’m there for you, not the girls.”

In all honesty, you wasn’t too sure on what tonight was about, you knew the award was made by Daisy but you didn’t know what it was for exactly. Well that was a lie, you knew it was for women’s sports and their achievements, but that was about it. You didn’t know what sport it was for, well again you knew Daisy’s award was for football. Was there other sports there? Maybe? You just knew Daisy was there and a woman footballer was receiving it. For her achievements? Yeah, that’s sounds right. Either way you were there to support her, and that was something you knew you could do.

The car arrived, Daisy explained there would be a few faces you might recognise, well, not the sport faces, because you had no clue when it came to sport. You didn’t watch it, you didn’t know about it, you wasn’t into it. It just wasn’t your thing. The car pulled up to the event, there was loads of people walking into a fancy looking building, paparazzi was outside taking pictures of who you assumed was the star athletes.

You and Daisy walked quickly through the crowd, she wasn’t one for pictures and fuss. Even if this was one of her biggest events she had worked on, she didn’t care for it. You both had your VIP lanyards around your neck, the bouncers allowed you entry into the main area. You both got a drink and spoke to some of Daisys colleagues, some you had even met before.

Daisy was being pulled from pillar to post, you didn’t realise just how important the award was. The footballer who was receiving it must have been a big deal as her name was constantly being mentioned. Journalist was asking Daisy ‘how she felt about tonight?’ And ‘how she designed the award?’ ‘what her inspiration was for it?’ You loved watching her finally being recognised for her talent but it did mean you were left a lot, not that you minded. You walked around the room looking at displays of other awards, and the displays of other athletes that was being awarded.

As much as you tried your best to look interested, you had to have a quick glance at your phone, you know, you could be getting an important email from work. You scrolled over your insta feed, but that was just as boring, but a video of a cat playing the piano caught your attention. You didn’t feel the presence of person next you until she spoke.

“You look as bored as I feel.”

You jumped slightly at the new voice in your ear, you looked up to see a blonde woman now standing next you, she was looking at the award you had been standing next to for the better half of ten minutes.

She continued. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” That’s when you noticed a thick Spanish accent on her.

“No, you’re okay. I was just looking at work emails.”

That’s when you really looked at the stranger, she had beautiful hazel eyes, her dark eye shadow making them pop. Her smile was painted red, with full lips. She was wearing a black fitted suit, with a low cut travelling down her chest making it look like she had nothing on underneath. Her blonde hair was parted and down. She was just a bit taller than you, making you look up at her. Basically she was fit as fuck.

“Ahh sí, work emails.”

A mischievous smile spread across her face telling you she knew you wasn’t looking at no work email. She probably saw how engulfed you were at the stupid cat video. She glanced over you quickly, making you almost feel like you were revealing a body part that you didn’t know was out.

“Are you here for work?” She asked.

“Oh, erm no, I’m here with a friend.”

Her eyebrows raised, she took a quick glance around the room. “A friend? Why are they not with you?”

“She’s working, I’m here for support. Her cheerleader on the sideline.” You smiled.

“Ahh, I see. A cheerleader, where are your, how do you say? Pom poms?” She smiled playfully at you.

“Left them at home, didn’t want to upstage her.” You smiled back, taking a drink from your glass.

She laughed at your joke, the sound of her laugh made your stomach flutter.

“It’s a shame, I think it would have made tonight a bit more fun, no?” Her smile was playful as she winked at you.

You had only been talking no more than 5 minutes and you wanted to know everything about this woman. She took a sip from her own glass, taking a confident look down your body, her eyes lingering at your chest, but unlike a man it didn’t feel creepy. It was definitely wanted. You felt your cheeks burning up at the intense way she looked over you. It almost felt like she was undressing you with her hazel eyes.

Before you did willingly undress for the gorgeous women in front of you, you thought you should at least ask a question.

“Are you here for work?”

She smiled, she took another glance over you then around the room. “Sí, for work. But I got distracted.” This time her hazel eyes lingered on your mouth.

Did it send a cold shiver up your now hot body? Yes. But she didn’t need to know that.

“Hmm, you’re not very good at your job if you can be so easily distracted.” You said teasingly. You did your own eyeing up this time, you let your eyes roam her neck line that went down her chest. Her suit made her look powerful and in charge of any situation she was in. And by the looks on her face she was more than happy.

“Hmm, I don’t normally get distracted. But sometimes it’s hard not to be. Especially when I have someone like you I can talk to.”

This woman was oozing confidence, it was almost intimidating, but the playful smile on her face made you want to kiss it off.

“So, you could say I’ve already made your night more fun? Since you were soo bored.”

She laughed again. God, that sexy laugh of hers was so captivating. She stepped a little closer into your space. “Sí, I’m definitely enjoying myself now.”

Fuck, she was honestly the most gorgeous woman you had ever laid your eyes on. She took another glance over your body for good measure. You could have sworn your saw her pupils grow.

You was about to ask for her name, but another women’s voice came in to pop your bubble.

“Ale, et necessiten per a una entrevista ràpida.”

Your GCSE Spanish wasn’t able to translate what she said.

“Estic venint.” The blonde smiled at her Spanish friend. You didn’t think she could be any sexier until you heard her speak in her mother tongue. She looked at you, clearly seeing your confused but turned on expression.

“I have to go, you’ll be at the after party sí?”

You felt giddy, the women clearly wanted to know you as much as you did her.

“Yeah, I’ll be there. Might bring my pompoms.” You winked.

Her head tilted back as she laughed. “I can’t wait. Adéu, nena bonica.” She looked over you once more as she walked away with the other Spanish lady. You watched them walk out of them room, into the unknown.

You wasn’t sure what she said but you definitely liked it. You suddenly felt sad at the loss of the mystery woman. You looked around the room for Daisy, she was already looking at you from across the room, a massive smile on her face. She waved for you to come over.

You made your trip over to her, the smile on her face only got wider. You spoke before she could. “Sorry, got completely distracted. How’s it all going?”

Daisy looked at you, a weird expression on her face. “No, you’re good, was you having fun with your new friend?” She looked giddy.

“Erm, yeah I mean she was fucking hot. Did you see her?”

“Yeah, I saw. I didn’t want to interrupt.” She smiled, but her smile was weird. “Did you get her name?”

“No. I think her friend said it, but it was quick Spanish. Are we going to the drinks after?” You asked.

Daisy laughed, almost in disbelief. What was so funny?

“Yeah, we are. Did your friend ask if you were going?”

You smiled, almost bashful. “She did, but I’m here for you, an-“

Daisy put her hand up to your face, stopping you mid sentence. “Please understand I would never get in the way of you having a good time.” She chuckled. “I’ve watched you turn down plenty of girls on our nights out, just because it was our girls night.” She stopped to take a drink from her own glass. “Please don’t worry about me, have fun and don’t miss the opportunity with your new…friend.”

You smiled, you loved your friendship with Daisy it really was rare to have someone like her in your life.

“Thanks, D. Anyways, tell me the goss, whats happening?”

————-

About 40 minutes later you sat down for the award show, you were next to Daisy, only two rows away from the front. She was right about seeing faces you recognised from the telly, but you had only been looking for one face in particular. You had seen her just before taking your seats, she had her Spanish friend following her around, that now come to think of it looked more like an assistant. And you would know, it was also your job.

The lights dimmed and a brunette woman came on stage, you assumed she was an athlete from her body alone. The voice over then came into action.

Voice over - Please welcome your host tonight, England’s Lioness, Lucy Bronze.

The whole room clapped and cheered, she must have been someone big, you knew the lionesses were for women’s football, and maybe if you thought hard enough you had seen Lucy Bronze in the news when they won the…..World cup? Or was it Championship? It was something big.

Awards were passed out and speeches were made. They showed clips of women and girls in different sports, and the challenges they faced around the world just to play sport. It made you realise how little you knew about the topic as a whole and women in sports, it actually made you a little embarrassed.

It was near the end of the show, Lucy came back on stage. “This next award is dedicated to one of the biggest names, in not only women’s football but footballs itself. She even rivals myself with her long list of achievements.” The audience laughed at that. “Please can you give a hand to my friend and my capitana, Alexia Putellas.”

You nudged Daisy. “This is your award!” You clapped even louder, she smiled at you, but once again her smile was weird, maybe she was excited? Or nervous? You clapped and watched the screen begin to play, like it did for each winer of the night, showing a short film of their story in their sport. It was actually a lot more interesting than you would have thought.

The short film started with a ball at a pair of legs, the ball was kicked straight into the back of a goal net, then it panned back to the women who kicked it. Your jaw opened comically, you couldn’t believe your eyes.

You felt Daisy laughing quietly next to you, you looked over at her, shock clear on your face. Was this a joke? You had been flirting with one of the greatest women’s football players? And she was flirting with you?

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You whispered harshly.

Daisy laughed even harder, you looked back at the screen, even though you wanted answers, you wanted to watch the movie of the women who had been eye fucking you. And once again you was impressed, the women had done so much in her career.

When the film was over, Lucy walked back to the podium, Daisy’s award now in front of her. Even though she mugged you off and didn’t tell you about Alexia you grabbed her hand and smiled at her, you were so proud of your best friend and her work.

“Ladies and gentlemen. Alexia Putellas.” The audience clapped louder than before. That’s when you saw her, she walked on stage, she hugged Lucy for a few seconds. She picked up her award and smiled.

“Thank you, thank you everyone. This award means a lot to me. It’s not just myself that wins this but all the women in my life that have helped me get to where I am today. So this is for them, thank you for being in my corner and being my cheerleader. Gràcies, thank you.”

You couldn’t stop the stupid smile on your face, did she really just say that? Maybe you were over thinking it, maybe she had already planned to say it and it was just coincidence? Maybe.

The audience clapped and whistled, including yourself. You grabbed Daisy for a hug, her art now belonged to one of the greatest football players in women’s football. Pshh, look at you, already learning a thing or two.

The awards came to an end, you and Daisy made your way to the other room for the after party. It was a bar with a dance floor, but it was dark like a night club, but still had an alogant bar vibe to it. You made your way to a table, as more people started to make their way in.

You sat down, Daisy was standing. “I’ll grab drinks, the usual?”

You smiled up at her. “Please, D.”

She walked over to the bar that was already busy, you looked around the room, trying to not make it too obvious but you were looking for a certain Spaniard. After a few minutes of looking you glanced over your phone, you looked on insta to see if your new friend had an account, your eyes nearly bulged out of your head when you saw she had 3.3 million followers. You really had to get into the world of women’s sport a bit more.

You scrolled looking at her posts, you may have lingered on one or two bikini posts, until someone sat across from you.

“Now, tell me why a pretty girl like you is sitting here all alone and not on the dance floor.” Her Irish accent was clear as day. She had a cheeky face. Like Alexia, her eyes roamed over your body, her eyes were full of mischief. Alexia’s eyes undressed you slowly, but these eyes were fucking you hard from behind, not that you minded.

“I’m waiting for my friend to come back. So no dancing for me.” You smiled. She wasn’t rude or annoying but for some reason you didn’t want Alexia to see you speaking with her. Or maybe you did?

“Oh, she won’t mind if I keep her seat warm for her then.” This girl was very cheeky, you would have loved it any other night, a girl like her would be easily going home with you, but you wasn’t going to full into her charm. She continued.

“I’m guessing you’re not here for the sports, I would definitely remember your face.”

You laughed. “No, not here for the sports, I’m supporting my friend.”

She nodded as she drank her bottle of beer. “Right, gotcha, gotcha.”

“Are you here for the sports?” You asked.

The Irish girl chuckled while she wiped her nose. “I am here for the sport, yeah. I’m a footballer, I play for Arsenal.”

Another football player? Was you their type or something?

“Ohh, sorry. I’m so bad with sports, I don’t have a clue who anyone is.”

She really laughed at that, taking another drink of her beer. “That’s no bother. Are you having a good time? These tings can be awfully boring.”

“I am, it’s not been too bad, meeting new people is always fun.”

She looked at you then, like Alexia she was confident but the mischievousness gave her a cockiness to her, in a sexy way, and if it wasn’t for your new friend you would fall right into her Irish charm, but the Spanish had got a hard hold of your attention.

“Yeah, well I’m having more fun now I’m talking to you.” She smirked at you.

But before you could say anything else a hand landed on your shoulder. You both looked up to see the star of the show.

“Hola, noia bonica. Where are your pom-poms?” She smiled down at you, once again her smile making your insides do somersaults.

You laughed out loud. “Sorry, I must have left them again.” She smiled at the sound of your laugh. She looked over at the Irish girl, who was watching the two of you interact.

“Sorry, I’m not interrupting anything am I? It’s Katie, isn’t it?” The Spaniard smiled down at the girl across from you, you could see the challenge in Alexia’s eyes, waiting for her to say otherwise.

“Yeah, Katie, that’s right. No, you’re grand. Was just getting to know your friend here. She was sat all alone, you don’t want that now, do ya?” She stood up. “But you’re here now. So I’ll let you get back to it.”

“Okay, it was nice to meet you, Katie.” The Spaniard smiled.

“And you Alexia, but it was really nice to meet you.” Katie nodded her head towards you. “Hopefully I can talk to you a little more later.” She smirked at you. “I can’t help it when I see a pretty girl, ya see.” She smirked at Alexia this time, almost like a warning. You felt like you were in the middle of an old western stand off between two cow girls. Was it hot? Fuck yeah! Two gorgeous girls fighting over you, what could be better than that?

You felt the hand on your shoulder tighten slightly. You heard Alexia hum, and smile politely but you could tell from her eyes she wasn’t really smiling. The Irish girl walked away, she winked at you before she disappeared into the crowd. You exhaled the breath you was holding in, looking up at Alexia who also looked a little calmer.

“May I sit?” Alexia motioned to the now vacant chair.

“Please do.”

She sat down, moving the chair a little closer to you.

“I guess congratulations are in order.” You said.

Alexia looked at you, a playful smile crossed her face, her serious demeanour from a few seconds ago completely gone. “Gràcias.”

“I have to say I was a little bit shocked when I saw you pop up on the screen.”

“Ahh yes, did you enjoy it?” She smiled at you almost hopeful.

“Yeah, it was alright.” You looked around pretending to not be fazed. A playful smile on your face.

She laughed, her head tilted back. “You loved it, don’t lie.” She nudged your knee with her own. She continued. “Where is this friend of yours? I’m starting to believe you don’t have any.”

You chuckled. “She’s at the bar, trying to get us a drink, but it’s a bit busy.” You glanced over at the bar.

Alexia looked over and tutted. “Well, if you’d like you and your friend could join me? I have a table, with table service.”

“Well aren’t you generous.” You teased.

“What can I say? I’m a generous girl. I like to give.” She bit her lip at her last words, and my god you nearly melted on the chair.

“Or are you just trying to hide me from a certain Irish girl?” Your smile was playful but also suggestive.

She shock her head, laughing at you. “What? No, I would never! But if it helps to not have all these girls after you, then sí.” She looked at you, almost like she was cautious of what she said.

But she had nothing to worry about, you liked it, you liked the thought of this gorgeous girl not wanting to share you with anyone, and she didn’t even know you.

You leaned in closer to her, you could smell her perfume. “Don’t worry, you have my attention. I’m yours, for now.”

Even in the dark lighting you could see your words had an effect on her, a devilish smirk appeared on her lips. “Mine? I like that.”

Your eyes glistened with mischief, you looked at the blonde’s hazel eyes, she looked like she wanted to take you where you sat.

“I thought you might.” You leaned in closer.

“Merda. You’re naughty. I also like that.” She bit her lip once more, her eyes didn’t move from your lips.

But your bubble was popped again, but this time it was Daisy with your drinks.

“Ahem. Sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt.”

You both pulled away. And Daisy said you were bad with your timing, though you could tell by her face she didn’t mean to.

“Alexia, this is Da-“

“Hola Daisy! This is your friend?” Alexia looked between you.

“Hey Alexia, I’ve been wanting to say hi, but I saw you was busy most of the night.” Daisy handed you your drink.

“No, don’t apologise, I’m sorry I haven’t seen you! You’re the one who made my favourite award!” Alexia stood to hug Daisy. It made sense that they had met each other already, Daisy had told you at the pub that the footballer had requested for her specifically to make her award.

Daisy smiled. “I see you’ve met my plus one. I hope she’s keeping herself out of trouble.”

“Erm, I’m not trouble at all, it’s called being fun.” Your smile was playful.

“Sí, she’s no trouble. She’s been the most entertaining part of the event.”

That made you smile, and even Daisy too.

“I’m glad to hear it.” Your best friend laughed.

“I was just saying you two should come sit at my table, I have table service. I don’t want you to be up and down for drinks.”

“Ahh, how sweet of you. Thank you Ale.” Daisy said.

“It’s no problem, come let’s go. My tables just up here.”

Daisy spotted the table and walked, Alexia put her hand out for you to take. And you did, gladly. Her hands were large and strong. She pulled you up easily, she gestured for you to walk in front of her, and of course you made sure to sway your hips as you walked, clearly it’s what she wanted.

You got to the table, there was a few women already there all in their own conversations, One was Lucy, the presenter from earlier, who was in a deep conversation with another brunette woman, who had beautiful doe like eyes. Alexia introduced you all, she explained, that they were her team mates for Barcelona.

“Hey guys, big fan!” Daisy smiled, you could see even in the dark room her cheeks were slightly red.

But before you could sit down someone was shouting for Daisy. “Daisy! Daisy! I have Claude asking for you!”

Daisy turned around to see one of her work colleagues, panic on her face. “The Claude?”

“Yes! Come on.” Her colleague looked panicked but excited.

Daisy looked over at you, a slight panic of what to do.

“I’m so sorry, I don’t want to leave it’s ju-.”

You put your hand up to stop her. “Don’t even finish that line, go and do what you need to do, Daisy. I’m absolutely fine. Go graft girl.”

Alexia then jumped in. “Don’t worry, I’ll look after her Daisy, I promise.”

Your best friend smiled, and squeezed your hand. “Okay, I might be gone a while, if you decide to leave just text me, and please, please tell me you’re home.” She leaned in closer. “Or someone’s going else’s home.” She winked at you, thinking no one heard but by Alexia’s smile she definitely heard.

She continued. “Ale, thank you again for the invitation. We’ll keep in touch, and please look after this one.”

Alexia put her arm around your waist. “I will, don’t worry.”

Daisy gave you a quick hug. “Thank you for coming tonight, have fun and be safe.” Before you could reply she ran over to her colleague, who looked liked they were about to pass out.

You looked over at Alexia, she was pouring two glasses of champagne. She handed you one, making sure to let her fingers linger. She held up her drink for a toast. “To keeping out of trouble.”

You laughed loudly, you clinked your glass and drank the bubbly drink.

You couldn’t help but notice how fucking hot every one of the teammates were, how had you not got into women’s football before? You may have caught a few eyes raking over you, and Alexia definitely did to, if sitting between you and her team mates was anything to go by.

She leaned in close like she did before. “So, how do I still not know the name of the girl that’s distracted me from work?” She purred.

“Hmm, I think your mind was in other places before asking.” You teased and took a swig of your drink.

“You’re right, how rude of me. Let’s start again. I’m Alexia.” She put her hand out for you to take.

You took her hand and smiled. “Nice to meet you Alexia. My names, Y/N.”

She raised your hand to her lips, she kissed the back of your hand, her eyes locked with yours as she did. Fuck, she was smooth.

She repeated your name softly. “I like that name, I like the way it sounds.”

“I like the way it rolls off your tongue.” You were being bold.

She chuckled. “I can do a lot with my tongue.” But she was bolder.

And yeah, your pussy woke up from that.

You spent the next half an hour in your own bubble once again. You both flirted hard but she also asked what you did for work, she explained some bits of her football career that you had seen on her short film. You noticed though she wanted to talk more about you and your life, you didn’t mind, she probably was bored of having to talk about herself tonight.

Even though you were both close to taking off each other’s clothes, you wanted to know more about the Spaniard. She wasn’t like many girls you spoke to, she was confident, charming and witty, but there was also a sense of vulnerability. Though right now her body language was screaming to have you closer. Those same eyes that was undressing you earlier was full of desire, it was almost like she could see exactly how you looked while she fucked you. And you definitely wanted that to be a reality.

But that dahm bubble was popped again.

Alexia’s assistant had appeared, wincing a smile at you both. “Ale, perdó. Algunes preguntes ràpides per a la premsa anglesa.”

Alexia nodded. “Sorry, I just have to do this, I won’t be too long. You’ll be ok, sí?”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll be okay. You assured her.

She clearly didn’t want to leave you, all of the girls were now on the dance floor, so you’d be alone, clearly not what she wanted.

“Really, go. I’ll stay out of trouble.” You smiled playfully at her.

“Hmm, why do I not believe you.” She chuckled as she slowly walked away.

You watched as she went with her assistant. You went on your phone and sipped on your drink. But just like Alexia had worried you wasn’t alone for long.

“Hola, may I join you?”

You looked up to see another stunning woman, her arms were covered in tattoos, causing your eyes to roam her body. Something she didn’t miss from the smile on her face.

“Oh yeah, sure.”

“Are you here with someone?” She picked up the bottle from the bucket on the table and poured herself a glass, but not without topping up your own glass. You watched as her tattooed fingers wrapped around yours. You had to admit the Spanish girls had such confidence when it came to flirting.

“I’m here with my friend, she’s about but not sure where.” You smiled.

“Ah, just friend? That’s why she doesn’t mind leaving you.”

You were confused. “What do you mean?”

She sat down next to you, right where Alexia sat. “Well, she’s your friend, she doesn’t mind if you talk with others, sí? Because if you were more then my friend, I wouldn’t leave you alone, not with all these girls here.”

“Ohh I see, but what if I have a girlfriend at home?” You challenged playfully.

She drank her drink and shrugged. “She’s at home.” She smiled wickedly at you.

Fuck. These girls were keeping you on your toes.

“My names Mapi.” She put her hand out to shake yours, and as you went to take it a perfect pair of red lips printed on your skin caught yours and Mapi’s eyes.

“Ahh, I’m not the first to talk to you tonight.” She smirked.

You didn’t even realise Alexia had left lipstick on your skin, it sent shivers up your spine, it made you feel like she had already made a statement to mark you as hers.

“I’m Y/N. You’re not the first. ” You smiled.

She continued. “So, your friend. Is she a footballer?” Just like Alexia and Katie, Mapi roamed her eyes up your body, taking in your curves. She smiled as she caught your eyes.

Of course you didn’t mind, if you were going to have anyone look at you in that way you wanted the likes of these girls looking at you. The women’s gaze was the only gaze you wanted. Like Katie, there was no question that you would have had Mapi in your bed tonight. But unfortunately for her you had your eyes set on another Spaniard. Even if she was making it a little difficult for you.

“No, she’s not an athlete, she designed one of the awards.” You took a sip of your drink.

She nodded her head. “Ohh I see, that’s cool.”

“I’m guessing you’re a footballer?” You had a feeling you knew what she was going to say.

She leaned back, displaying a hard six pack, she put her arm over the back of your seat, making her look even more attractive.

“Sí I play for Barcelona. Do you watch football?”

You had to hold back your laugh, of course she played for Barcelona. “I don’t, but I think after tonight I will.”

She laughed, she sat even closer to you, her woody perfume took over your senses. She whispered in your ear. “If you want I can be your first taster.”

Wow, football girls were officially your new type, but before you could respond and politely decline, you heard a voice.

“És clar que hauria de ser tu, Mapi.”

Mapi backed up from you instantly on hearing her captain’s voice. “Què? ella està amb tu?”

Alexia smiled at you. “Sí, però gràcies per fer-li companyia.”

Mapi moved even further from you, putting her her hands up in defence. It might be silly but it was hot to see Alexia once again being jealous over a girl talking to you.

“Ho sento. Ella està calenta. Què puc dir?”

Mapi stood up this time, she drank her drink and looked over at you smirking.

“This is why you shouldn’t be left alone, girls like me come along. Have a good night, noia sexy.”

You chuckled. “It was nice to meet you, Mapi.”

The Spaniard walked closer to Alexia. “Déu meu, tens molta sort. Ella és molt calenta.”

Alexia smiled devilishly at you, her eyes staring straight into yours, it sent a shiver down your spine. It might have been the first time she intimidated you, not that you hated it.

Mapi smiled one last time at you before heading back into the dance floor. Leaving the two of you alone.

Alexia walked over to you, like a lion to its kill. She sat down where Mapi sat. “I leave you for five minutes and you already have another girl on you. You definitely can’t stay out of trouble.” She purred.

“Sorry, it must be a footballer thing.” You teased.

“You’ve had six girls after you, and that’s just from the ones that I know about. Including myself.” She almost sounded annoyed.

“Six?” You questioned.

“Sí, I had three other girls ask about you. But I said you were with me.”

You raised your eyebrows at the blonde, if there was one thing that turned you on about a girl, it was their possessiveness, to a degree of course. But with Alexia it felt like you were in control, she was the one fighting for you and she didn’t even know your last name, you could easily leave tonight without saying another word to her.

Not that you were ever going to do that.

She continued. “Sorry, if it’s too much, you did say you were mine tonight, no?” She smirked at you, she knew you were loving this, she could read you like an open book.

You leaned into her ear, your lips grazed her skin just slightly. “Prove it. Make me yours.”

You almost thought you had said the wrong thing then. Alexia stared at you with a look you couldn’t put your finger on, until she leaned over to your face, her lips inches from yours.

“You might regret that.”

Even the butterflies in your stomach were turned on at this point, this woman was the definition of all your sex dreams. You could feel your body needing her, and she could feel it to.

She continued. “I have a driver outside.”

You didn’t need to hear anything else, you stood up looking at Alexia, she didn’t miss a beat. She grabbed your hand and headed straight to the exit. Within minutes you were in the back of a fancy blacked out Mercedes.

“Can we go to my hotel please.”

“Yes, Ms Putellas.” The driver replied. A blacked out window glided up between you and the driver, giving you and Alexia privacy.

You looked over at the blonde, her hungry eyes were already scanning your body, you had a feeling this girl was going to wreck you. Her eyes caught you own, a devious smile crept on her lips, making your pussy flutter.

“So, you’re all mine?”

“All yours.”

Her lips were on yours in seconds, the kiss was rough and messy, you tried to dominate the kiss but you didn’t try too hard. Not when Alexia was kissing you the way she was, she licked her tongue over your lips, wanting entry and you gave it to her easily.

And wow she could kiss, it might sound silly but her kisses felt different to an English girl, it was like her tongue had more control over its movements. Though, you had heard before that Spanish girls were one of the best for giving head, it was something to do with their tongues, the way they moved it when they spoke. Maybe you’d be able to put it to the test.

You groaned in pleasure as she kissed you deeper, her hands snaked into your hair, pulling you impossibly closer. You pulled back for air, but she only pulled you back again, wanting your mouth on hers. You could tell she was as desperate for you as you was her, she let out a small moan as you pressed your tongue into her mouth.

Her red lipstick had all but disappeared by the time you got to her hotel.

You hadn’t realised how nice of a hotel it was when you entered. Her room was over looking the Thames and most of London’s skyline, making the room glow from the city’s lights.

You walked towards the window looking over the city, it was always one of your favourite views at night. Other than a naked woman in your bed.

That’s when you felt the Spaniard move your hair gently to one side, her hot lips pressed against the back of your neck. She hummed into you, making your skin cover in goosebumps. She smiled into the kiss, she obviously felt what she was doing to you. You whimpered as she kept her mouth working on you, her hands gripping your waist.

You were on cloud nine, Alexia’s mouth and body pressed up against you like this made the city lights look blurry. She moved your body around to face her, she leaned closer into you, her hazel eyes roamed your face, landing on your lips. Even in the dark her eyes glowed like gold, her eyes reminded you of a cat hunting at night. The atmosphere changed from fast and quick to soft and sensual.

“Can I get you anything? A drink? Tea?” She smiled.

“No thanks, just want you.”

She hummed. “What do you want from me?”

“To fuck me. Do what you want with me.”

“Merda.” She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. She must have liked what you said as you were suddenly being picked up like a rag doll, like you was nothing. Your legs wrapped around her waist as she walked you to the bedroom. Your back hit the wooden door as you entered her room, she was on your neck with her sweet mouth, kissing you, her hips pressing you hard against the door.

“What can’t I do?” She whispered.

“I’ll tell you if it’s too much.” You rasped

“Any safe words?” She kissed your lips.

“Red, yellow and green?”

“Sí.” She husked.

“Same for you?”

“Sí, the same for me.”

You were thrown on the bed, your back hitting the mattress, once again you couldn’t believe the strength of the girl in front of you. She climbed on top of you, her lips attacking your neck, she had already worked out it was your sweet spot, making you moan as her lips sucked and licked on your skin. She was definitely making a mark, and normally you wouldn’t have it, you wouldn’t walk around with a love bite on show, but with Alexia you wanted it. You wanted to look in the mirror and remember it was her that gave it to you. That claimed you.

Her hand stroked up your thigh, pushing the slit of your dress up, inching higher to where you needed her. You were wet, you could feel your thong becoming drenched, you could feel your skin sticking to the thin fabric. Her hips pushed into you, she was clearly finding her self composure hard to control. Her fingers traced over your sensitive skin, between your thighs, teasing you, maybe even teasing herself.

“Please.” You whispered.

“Please what?” She smiled as she kissed down your chest.

“Please, I need you.”

“Hmm, you need me?” She purred.

“Yes.” Your voice was desperate.

“How much?” She started to move your straps of your dress down your shoulders, revealing your black laced bra.

“Since I saw you.” Your voice almost broken as she attached her lips to the top of your breast.

“Hmm, that’s a long time. You must be desperate?”

“I a- am. Fuck!” Your voice strained as she attached her mouth to your perked nipple. You didn’t even notice she had opened your bra, she had taken advantage of the front clasp. Thank god for front clasps.

Her mouth was perfect, she sucked and bit on your nipple, making you groan, your hand tangled in her blonde hair. She bit at your flesh, then sucked again to soothe the pleasurable pain. The noise you let out was loud, she smiled up at you, clearly enjoying her view.

“You’re loud. I like that.”

You couldn’t form words, you groaned and tugged gently at her hair as she moved to your other nipple. One of her hands were still in between yours thighs, slowly tracing her fingers up and down your sensitive skin. She was driving you mad, and she knew it. Her hips relentlessly pushed into your core, making you moan again and again.

“Please, Alexia.” You felt like you could have cried, you were that desperate. Your pussy was aching, needing something. Needing her.

You felt her chuckle into your skin, her fingers finally, but just barely touched the fabric over your pussy.

“Merda, estàs molt mullat.” She rasped.

You didn’t have a clue what she was saying but fuck, did it make you wet. She could be calling you every name under the sun and you didn’t care. As long as she was saying it.

“Is this all for me?” She began to sit up.

“Yes.” You nodded your head, you couldn’t help but wonder how desperate you must have looked. “All for you.”

“You really are trouble, aren’t you?”

“Only if you want me to be.” God this girl was making you a mess, you was putty in her hand and she hadn’t even touched you.

She watched you as she started to remove her jacket, her smile never leaving her face. You sat up at the end of the bed, you helped pull the arms down, and you were right, she was completely naked underneath. All night she had been walking around with nothing on, she clearly had a lot of trust in the jacket.

Her full breast was now on show, you let out an appreciative sigh. She was fucking gorgeous. You kissed her tight stomach, you watched as her muscles flexed from your mouth. Her hands stroked into your hair, sending a shiver down your spine. You kissed and licked at her beautiful olive skin, kissing up to the line of where her trousers sat. You looked up at her, bitting your lip asking for permission.

She nodded, watching you like a hawk. You popped open the button and slowly pulled her zip down, revealing more skin, and the start of her red laced thongs. Before you could pull her trousers down she cupped your chin, making you face her. She gently ran her thumb over your bottom lip.

“You’re so beautiful. So many girls wanted you tonight, so many eyes were on you. But you chose to be with me. I am very lucky.”

You felt yourself blush, one minute she had you begging to be fucked, now she had you going red and shy.

“You had eyes on you too, I saw the way people looked at you.”

She smiled then, but it wasn’t her normal smile you had seen all night, it almost looked a little sad. But you didn’t have time to question it, she shuffled out of her trousers letting them hit the floor. She stood you up, pulling your dress over your head, you were both now only in your underwear.

You moved your mouth to her breast, and sucked on her sensitive nipple. You heard her suck in a breath, her hands going straight to your hair. You gave her breast the attention that they deserved, sucking, biting and kissing on the blushed coloured flesh. She groaned softly, her eyes were closed enjoying the sensation of your mouth. You let go of the flesh with a loud popping sound. Letting your lips rub against her.

She opened her eyes, the golden hazel colour you had seen earlier had now nearly disappeared. She pushed you on the bed once more. Your thongs were being pulled down your thighs, you both saw the wetness attached to the fabric, the smile on her face turned devilish.

“You’re mine, sí?”

“Yes. All yours.”

She climbed on top of you, peppering kisses down your body, it felt like she kissed every possible bit of flesh on your body. Then she was in between your legs. Her teeth sunk into your thighs, making you whimper. She soothed the red mark with her tongue, kissing and licking.

Then finally, her tongue licked through your very wet folds. You wasn’t sure who groaned louder. Her tongue licked through you again, and again and again, until she was in a rhythm. What you heard about Spanish girls was right, it was a whole different sensation. She dipped her tongue into your cunt, making you groan, your hands grabbed her head, pushing her deeper as she fucked you with her tongue.

“Alexiaaa! Fuck!”

She glided her tongue up to your clit, wrapping her full lips around your bundle of nerves. And fuck, you were already close. But who could blame you? She’d worked your body up to the point of tears. She sucked and licked at your sensitive flesh, your hands were still in her hair, moving her how you wanted her. Not that you needed to do much, she knew what she was doing, her mouth was perfect. Your eyes closed as you started feeling your orgasm approaching, your stomach tightening, feeling the warmth glide over your body.

“I’m close, please don’t stop.”

But she did. She moved her mouth away from you, you could see your juices all over her chin and lips, she looked breathtaking.

“Nooo! I was so cl-.”

Then you felt her fingers at your entrance. She thrusted two fingers into you, cutting off your words. You let out a deep throaty moan, as her thick fingers began to thrust into you.

“Not until I say you can.”

Fuck, she really was the girl of your dreams.

You nodded, wanting to be good for her. You couldn’t help but find it a little worrying at how easy it was for Alexia to see right though you. How easy she could get you begging, denying your orgasm, leaving marks all over your body and you had only met her a couple of hours ago. And you thought you were in control?

“Bona noia.” She whispered.

She began to thrust deeper, her fingers pushing against your soft flesh, pushing your body to control what it desperately needed. You couldn’t stop the moans slipping out of your mouth, her fingers were talented, just like her mouth. You watched her strong arm flex at her movements.

“You will take my dick. Sí?”

She had a strap? This girl was made in heaven.

“Yes, yes.” You cried.

“Good. You want to come like this?”

“Your mouth and fingers. Please!.” You begged.

She chuckled deeply. She leaned back down and attached her lips to your clit again, making you scream. She hummed against your core, your hand tangled in her hair as you felt your climax approaching. You looked down to see those golden hazel eyes staring at you. You pushed your hips into her mouth, grinding her tongue on your swollen clit. Her fingers were relentless, your thighs started to shake, your fingers pulled at her hair, pushing her closer to your sex. You came hard, Alexia’s name rolling off your tongue as your body shuddered.

She stayed there, well she had to, you didn’t let her go. You thrusted your hips, taking every bit of her tongue. She lapped up your ever flowing juices, slurping and swallowing, making you gasp and whimper. You finally let go of her hair, but she didn’t move, she traced her tongue all over your pussy, kissing and sucking. Her strong hands kept your hips down, not able to move.

“Ale… fuck. Alexia, baby, please.” You gently gasped.

She didn’t move, she was in her own world, tasting you, eating your cunt like it was her last meal. You groaned gently, letting her take what she wanted from you. You could feel another orgasm already building back up. She finally stopped, she must have felt your body tensing, she wasn’t going to let you come again that quickly.

“You taste so good baby.”

She kissed your thighs as she climbed up to your face, kissing you gently. You groaned at tasting yourself on her tongue, her smile once again making your stomach flutter.

Alexia jumped off the bed, you tried to catch your breath as you watched her rummage around in her suitcase. You pushed yourself on your elbows, watching the Spaniard attaching her harness, a 7 inch dildo sat between her strong thighs.

“So, do you always carry your harness around?” You teased.

She chuckled. “Sí, it’s my travel harness.”

You laughed loud, this girl was ridiculous.

She continued. “Are you complaining? I can take this off?”

You shock your head, eyes wide. “No. Sorry.”

She smirked, she turned back around in her suit case and pulled out a black tie.

“I think I might have to tie you up, you’ve been trouble all night.”

You nodded, you put your hands in front of you for her to tie. You could feel your pussy throbbing again. She stepped in front of you, her dick inches from your body.

“Uh-ah, hands behind your back baby.” Her tone was soft.

You stood up, turning around to allow her to tie your wrist. She ever so gently bounded your hands together, it was tight, you couldn’t get I out of it if even if you tried. Your breathing picked up, you could feel your legs shaken in anticipation.

She moved your hair to the side like she did before, her lips gently kissed up your neck, her mouth was close to your ear.

“If it’s too much, tell me baby. I’ll stop straight away. Okay?”

You nodded. “Okay, thank you. I’m green.”

She continued to kiss your neck, her hands snaked up to your breast squeezing gently. You groaned from her touch, as her large hands roamed your breast.

“M'encanten els sorolls que fas.” She whispered.

“Fuck, Ale.”

“Yes, baby?” Her lips were hot on your skin driving you mad.

“I love it when you speak to me like that.”

“In Catalan? You like it?” She purred.

“Yes.” Your hips moved backwards.

She chuckled at your lack of patience. “Ets la meva bona noia.”

You groaned again, your hips pushed back, hitting her dick on your arse.

“Get on your knees and show me what your pretty mouth can do.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You turned around to stand in front of her and dropped to your knees, you took the tip of her dick in your mouth and sucked.

Her hands were in your hair instantly. You pushed your mouth further on the length of her dick, swallowing her inch by inch. You pulled back to catch your breath, you could feel yourself becoming wet all over again. You looked up at the Spaniard, she looked as wrecked as you felt, you could see was clenching her jaw, her eyes were full of lust.

“You look so good.” She whispered.

You took a deep breath as you took her back into your mouth. She groaned looking down at you, she watched your mouth take her more than half way. She gently pushed your head to take more of her, but you began to choke. You pulled back again, tears began to prick at your face.

“Take a deep breath baby, relax your throat.” She stroked your cheek, she looked deep in your eyes, almost lovingly. You would have laughed if her dick wasn’t shoved in your mouth, the girl could switch up her tone so easily.

You nodded, you took another deep breath and slowly took her in again, you felt her hand at the back of your head, guiding you further down her dick. You got past the halfway point, you could feel the tip of her dick touching the back of your tongue. A single tear fell from your eye as you pushed yourself. Her hand was still on your head, she pushed her dick slowly but firmly into the back of your throat, your nose just touching her stomach.

“That’s it baby, just like that. You’re doing so good.” She rasped.

You pulled back slightly, then slowly took her back in your throat, her hands tightening in your hair. Spit started to drip from your mouth, as you kept sucking on her dick. She started to gently move her hips in time with your movements, pushing herself further down your throat. It made you gag, but she kept her hand on your head.

“Breathe, baby. Breathe. You’re doing so good.”

And you did, you calmed your breathing and pushed on her dick. A few more tears trickled down your cheeks. She thrusted her hips again, slowly and gently, never taking her eyes off of you.

“You look so beautiful on your knees for me. If only all those girls could see you now, taking me like this.” She groaned.

You moaned at her words, you loved a girl that spoke to you during sex, it turned you on to no end. And her accent only made it that much hotter. Your pussy was throbbing, aching to be touched again, but you wanted so badly to please Alexia.

Her hips started to pick up pace, her thick dick sliding in and out of your throat. You could hear her breathing becoming shallow. She easily took control over your movements, not that you had any real choice, your hands tied behind your back put you under her complete control. And you loved it.

“Tal qual, Tal qual. Sí.” She groaned. “So good.”

Your wet slurping noise filled the room, spit dribbled down your mouth and on to the floor. The strap was hitting Alexia perfectly on her clit, she had been turned on as much as you so she wasn’t far from her own orgasm.

“Merdaa. Your mouth is perfect. Just take a little more baby.”

And you did, Alexia fucked your throat until her legs started to tremble. Her moaning got louder, you could tell she found that sweet spot as her hips thrusted faster, You pushed yourself as hard as you could, as she used your mouth to reach her own orgasm. She was mumbling a mixture of Catalan and English as she was tipping over the edge.

“Estic venint! I’m coming!” She pushed your head down the whole length of her dick as she came. Your nose was pressed against her hard stomach as she rutted against the base of her strap.

“Merda, merda.” She whispered, she pulled your head back gently, just as you began to choke.

“Oh Déu meu, I can’t feel my legs, you were so good baby. Are you okay?” She rasped, her hands stroked your face so gently. You breathed hard, trying to catch your breath, tears streaming down your face as you coughed.

“Y-yeah. I’m good.” You panted. Smiling up at the blonde.

“You were so good for me. Come.” She picked you up to your feet easily. She kissed your swollen lips gently. “Colour?”

“Green.” You husked.

“Okay, are your arms okay?” She wiped away your tears, smiling at you.

You nodded. “Yeah.” You felt your stomach flutter.

“Good, I want to fuck you from behind, like this. Is that oka-“

“Yes, yes. It’s okay. Please. Do it, please.” Fuck, she had officially wrecked you.

Alexia’s eyebrows raised in shock, she started to smirk. “She’s still desperate, that’s okay. I’ll fix that.”

She turned you around facing the bed, you felt her hand gently push your body down to lay. Your arms were still tied behind your back, once again you were under Alexia’s control. You couldn’t believe tonight had turned into this, you had only gone to out support your best friend and now was about to be railed by the girl of your dreams. Best. Night. Ever.

She moved your body to how she wanted you. The side of your face was pressed into the mattress, and your arse was in the air, you were lined up perfectly to her dick. She stroked her hand down your back, looking at the beautiful site in front of her. She could see you was dripping. Your thighs were wet.

“You are perfect.” She stroked her fingers through your folds, making you whimper.

She didn’t want to wait around anymore, she’d pictured you in many different ways tonight, and finally she was living her dreams.

She pushed the head of her dick slowly into you, and it was thick. Her hands grabbed hold of your waist, you both gasped as she pushed the rest of herself inside, making you stretch. She began to roll her hips, already loving the small noises you were making for her. In this position she had full control over you. And like the submissive little bitch that you were, you loved it.

“Fuck, you take me so well. Look at you. You’re mine, Sí?”

“Yes!” You cried.

Her hips began to thrust at a hard pace, making you cry out. Her hips were strong, the noises of her skin slapping your skin was erotic. The room was drowning in your whimpers and moans as the Spaniard fucked you like she owned you. And that’s exactly what she was doing, you’d told her you was hers tonight, she was fucking you like you was hers.

“You’re mine? Tell me.” She demanded.

“Y-yes. I’m y-yours. Yours.” You struggled to speak.

Your mumbles were incoherent, you were seeing stars as her hips kept up a relentless pace. You wasn’t going to come like this, you could feel your orgasm teetering but you needed your clit to be touched.

“Alexia, please. Touch me.”

“Not yet baby, we come together.” She panted out.

You wanted to argue but you were scared she would deny your orgasm completely. So you kept quite and took what she gave you, it wasn’t like you wasn’t loving her fucking you like this. However, you didn’t take in to consideration the stamina this girl possessed. You had been with many different types of girls, but never a footballer, not a professional athlete. And my god she made your body work. She had you going like this for another 20 minutes.

And those 20 minutes were heaven and hell. Your body was going limp, sweat ran down your back as she thrusted into you. You felt her strong hand squeezeyour arse cheeks, guiding you up and down on her dick, moving you around like her own personal sex toy. Your clit was crying out to be touched. But, finally, by the sounds of her breathing and moaning she sounded close herself. Her nails dug into your skin as she pushed herself against the strap, the pressure was just right as she rubbed her clit against the base, causing her to go deeper inside your core.

“Take it baby, take it.” She groaned.

Your eyes rolled at the back of your head. She moved her fingers on to your clit, she hardly needed to touch you before your body started to jerk. Her fingers rubbed beautifully at your bundle of nerves, making you plead for her to not stop.

“I love the way you beg. It drives me crazy. Come for me, you’ve been so good.” Alexia panted.

An animalistic cry escaped your mouth as your orgasm hit you. Your pussy pulsated hard around her dick, and Alexia didn’t stop, she thrusted her hips deep, pulling your tight walls, making you almost pass out. And she was right behind you, her orgasm took over her body, she leaned forward, grabbing the back of your neck, pushing your face into the mattress. Her hips roughly doubled down her pace. The air in your lungs was being forced out from her sheer strength.

A deep, rumble like moan escaped her lips, as she came. Her hips slowed down to a stop. She gently pulled out of you, you cried out as you felt the warmth of her body leaving you.

“You’re so perfect. Merda.”

You felt her untie your hands, she helped you guide them forward, knowing they would be a little stiff now. You moaned from the ache in your muscles, you could just about move your arms. Your wrists were red, that was definitely going to leave a mark for a while. Another mark to remember her by. You felt her guide you on your back, it nearly took your breath away how fucking good she looked, her face was flushed, her hair a little bit of a mess and her smile was dopey.

“You okay? What’s your colour?”

“I’m green, green everywhere.” You laughed quietly. “Your colour?” Even though she was mostly the one in control you still wanted to make sure she was okay.

She smiled, she looked surprised to be asked. “I’m green, thank you, cariño. I’m going to run a bath.” She was gone all of a sudden. It made you suddenly realise you were in Alexia’s room, in her space, in her way. You felt a little dazed, you stood up on shaky legs, you were looking around for your clothes, trying to get out of the girls way.

Alexia came back into the room, she watched you a little confused. “What are you doing?”

You jumped, suddenly feeling a lot more shy. “Oh sorry, I don’t want to be in your way.”

She stepped closed to you. A serious expression on her face. “I don’t want you to leave. You can if you want to. But I want you to stay, relax your body in the bath, you will be sore.” She smirked.

You felt a little calmer, her eyes were watching you for any indication of what you were thinking. She must have realised you were overthinking it all. She continued. “Please, I don’t fuck girls and kick them out. Let me look after you.” She kissed the back of your hands, never taking her eyes off of you.

You nodded, your hands crept up her neck, pulling her closer towards you. She closed the gap with her lips attached to your own. It was slow and sensual, it was what you needed after the sex you just had. She picked you up, again the strength of this girl was unbelievable. She walked you to the bathroom, putting you on the cabinet side, you squealed from the cold service on your cheeks.

“Sorry baby.” She genuinely looked sorry.

“No it’s okay. I can take it.”

That made her smile. “Hmm, I saw from tonight that you can take a lot.” She purred in your ear.

She had made you a bubble bath, you felt almost a little embarrassed at how you felt earlier, trying to rush out. Though sometimes being fucked from an inch of your life could bring up emotions like that, that’s clearly why she was doing this for you. She understood.

She helped you get in, it was perfect. You laid back and relaxed, allowing the hot water to relax your muscles. She left you to be alone for about 10 minutes, until you needed her again. It scared you, you were feeling a little too attached to a girl you hadn’t even known a day.

“Ale.”

She came in, a beautiful smile on her face, she looked a little tired. It made you think about her leaving for tomorrow. Would you ever see her again? She stroked your hair back behind your ear. Kissing your forehead. She helped you out of the bath, and into the room, she helped you to dry your body, her lips kissing your back. Making you gasp. She laid you on the bed, sleep was taking over your body, you then heard what sounded like a shower and then sleep took you for the night.

——————

You woke the next morning to a hot kisses on your back, you almost forgot where you were until you could hear Alexia hum against your skin. Her lips were all over your back, making you moan, it was the best kind of way to wake up, well, that was until she guided you on your back.

“Good morning. I hope you don’t mind but, I really want to taste you.”

She stared up at you as she kissed your stomach. Your sleepy daze hadn’t left you yet, your arms ached from last night. But my god there was no way you’d say no to this.

You nodded your head. “Please.” Your morning voice was rougher then normal, you was desperate for this women all over again.

She was between your legs in seconds, she was just as desperate as you, she sucked and licked on your clit until you came twice for her. Your tired hips gently fucked her face, your hands twisted in her hair, pushing her head against you as you came on her tongue. You felt her moan, as she swallowed your juices. Now that was a way to wake up.

You looked down at her beautiful morning face, her eyes were still sleepy, her smile was a little dazed. God this girl was beautiful.

“Let me please.” You whispered. You hadn’t got to taste the gorgeous woman in front of you yet, it felt criminal that you hadn’t had your mouth on her.

You could see even in her sleepy haze that she wanted it too but that vulnerable side you saw last night had creeped back up. She climbed up your body and laid next to you, for the first time she looked nervous, you wanted to make sure she knew she was wanted.

“You look so beautiful, Ale.” You kissed her lips gently.

You kissed her neck, sucking on parts of her skin that made her squirm. The roles seemed to have reversed this morning, she was the one submitting to you, her whimpers and moans made your head spin. You lowered yourself between her legs, she was dripping.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, Ale. All for me?” She nodded, her lips between her teeth. “Sí.”

You didn’t wait around, you dipped your tongue through her velvety folds, her juices covered your tongue as you finally got to taste her. You had wondered what she tasted like the majority of the night, wondered what she would sound like while you sucked on her clit. And it was better than anything you could have imagined. She was perfect, she was your new favourite flavour.

You lapped up at her wet cunt, stroking and gliding your tongue through her sensitive flesh. Making sure to miss her clit, you just wanted to stay there all day, listen to her make those sweet noises. It was the first time you were really getting to hear her, she’d only grunted and moaned last night, but now you got to really hear her. You were shocked at how delicate she sounded, how desperate she was, the sounds you were dragging out of her made your head spin. It was a complete 360 from her confident, dominant self. Maybe that’s why she looked so nervous.

You felt her fingers glide into your hair, pulling at your scalp.

“Please stop teasing. Please.”

You stopped your movements. “What was that baby?”

She whined. “Please, I need you.”

“You need me?” You quickly licked her clit. Her body jolted, her body was more wound up than you thought.

“Sí. I need you.”

Another lick. She gasped.

“Hmm, are you mine?”

“Sí. I’m yours. Please.”

Well, that was easier than you would have liked. So you kissed her clit, wanting to tease her. She cried out, she pulled your hair to try and get you where she needed you, and you didn’t want to tease her no more, not when she looked close to tears.

You wrapped your lips around her bundle of nerves and sucked. Her back arched of the mattress as she fucked your face, her hands pulled your closer to her sex. Once again you were under her control, but you really didn’t mind, as long as she came in your mouth that’s all you cared about.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop.” Her legs were shaken, her high pitched whines became loud, you was certain the people either side of you could hear her.

“Merda!” She pushed your head down, keeping you where she needed you as she came in your mouth. Her juices gushed in your mouth, her hands in your hair didn’t allow you to move. You swallowed every drop as she snaked her hips slowly, feeling your skilful tongue. She breathed hard as she let go, you looked up to see her chest rising and falling. She felt like she had been to heaven and back.

“Wow, I don’t know if I known English anymore.” She chuckled, her hand over her face. You could see her cheeks were flushed.

You crawled up to her face, kissing her deeply, she moaned as both your flavours blended in your tongues. You spent another half an hour cuddled up in her sheets, you traced your fingers on her tattoos, you wondered what they stood for. Your bubble of bliss was interrupted when her phone alarm went off.

She groaned, turning off the noise. You suddenly felt dread, you knew what that meant. You had to leave, and get on with your life and she went back to Barcelona. You felt like you were loosing something you never even had. Someone you met less then 24 hours ago who suddenly felt like someone whose side you never wanted to leave.

“I have to get ready for my flight.” She sounded sad, maybe even angry. She turned around and kissed your cheek. You both got ready to leave. It was quiet between you, the atmosphere had changed from fast and hungry to, silent and sad.

Suddenly she was behind you, her warm body pressed against your back. She whispered in your ear. “Would you visit?”

“In Barcelona? Yes.” You whispered back.

She pulled you closer, her lips back on your neck.

“You promise?”

“Yes.”

“You’re mine?”

“Fuck, yes.”

She had you pressed up against the wall, her fingers pressed against your clit, as she gave you your third orgasm of the morning. You told her you was hers throughout.

She arranged for a taxi to pick you up. You were in your dress from the night before, you clearly looked like were doing the walk of shame. She pulled out a thick cream Nike jumper from her suitcase and started to pull it over your head. Your senses were surrounded by her smell. It made you feel warm and soft inside. Fuck.

She walked down with you to the taxi, you felt a mix of emotions, you wanted nothing more than to stay with this girl, but you were from two different worlds. You didn’t regret last night but the feelings that had come with it were maddening, you’d been with girls like this before, but there was something different about Alexia. And she felt it to.

She pulled you in for hug, she kissed your lips with so much passion, you could feel the emotion behind it. She pulled back, holding your face in her large hands. She looked you in your eyes, her hazel orbs searched your face.

“My cheerleader.” She chuckled.

You laughed out loud, making the Spaniard smile. Fuck this was hard. She pulled the hoody over your head and pressed another kiss to your mouth.

“Goodbye, cariño.”

“Bye, Alexia.”

She watched you get in the back of the cab, and closed the door behind you. The car started to pull away, you watched as she stood there, watching you drive away. She stayed until you turned the corner.

And she was gone.

I hope you liked it, I very much enjoyed writing it. I’ve used Google for the translation, so apologies for anything being wrong! This a one shot for now, but will add to it later.

[venjras]

CHEATING TROPE - GOJO SATORU.

not my usual cup of tea but here we are. sfw, mention of cheating,

his gaze was always on you. whenever you were in the same room, even from opposite sides, his attentive eyes did not miss even the smallest of your movements.

funny considering the fact that he had a girlfriend. you had met him when they were already a couple, you had heard from megumi that they weren’t going to last long. opposite characters, in the worst possible combination ever, the only great thing was sex and as an answer that was already enough. probably the pressure from the parents had something to do with it too, hers was a powerful family that would benefit their business immensely. since one day it would become his.

anyway, now you were at the fushiguro house, you were there for a group assignment, the house was empty except for you and that raven head immersed in books. a small snort escaped your lips, continuing to write down the results of the research you two had taken the last two hours. you were sure that your head would end up exploding keeping up like this.

“toruuuuu, i don’t want to stay here. let’s go home, my parents are waiting us for dinner.” fuck, no. that high-pitched voice was capable of piercing your eardrums like nothing. a roll of eyes and the kitchen door swinging open revealing their figures behind it. gojo and his bimbo girlfriend who was clinging to his arm, almost as if she were an extension of him and depended on it to survive. now the idea of ​​going back to your house was even more inviting. he went to ruffle his younger cousin’s hair, who muttered something inaudible in response. “you’re such a nerd, at this rate you’ll become a book yourself.” he added with a laugh, then pointed his gaze at you from under the thick sunglasses he always wore. time to realize it and the girl was already pulling him by the arm, muttering as if she were a child extremely in need of attention.

breathe, breathe, breathe.

“do you still keep the chemistry book in your room? we might need it for a more in-depth study of the last part.” you don’t even bother waiting for an answer, leaving the room, which had become too narrow by now, and heading upstairs. running away was your only chance, otherwise you wouldn’t have gotten out alive. there was something that was digging under your skin every time you met them, you still had to figure out what, but when you thought you were getting the solution it was as if your mind refused to process it. now you were safe, in megumi’s room looking for a book that you remembered perfectly well that he had forgotten at school, the perfect excuse to waste more time looking for it.

“running away won’t get you anywhere, you know that right sweetheart?” the deep voice echoed in your ears, hitting straight to your head. straightening your back and continuing to search on the desk, moving various papers. “it will definitely take me away from the beautiful voice of your girlfriend who, in my personal opinion, isn’t particularly pleasant.” the answer was immediate, spontaneous, perhaps too much so. seeing out of the corner of your eyes that a sly smile was making its way onto his lips. “actually, if you allow me, I’d go down and save gumi before his eardrums shatter in a million pieces.”

you go to the door but his figure doesn’t move, taking up the entire frame and preventing you from passing. now you were face to face, the perfect moment to realize how he had abandoned his glasses and now his crystalline eyes were fixed on you only. bad, bad idea. you try to pass through the small gap on the right but he promptly covers it with his long torso, making your eyebrows gather. “may i?” you move closer but nothing, he doesn’t show any signs of moving back, on the contrary. he crosses his arms in front of his chest, looking at you amused. “and what if i don’t want to?” he tilted his head to the side, clicking his tongue on the roof of his mouth. you could do nothing but sigh, placing a hand on his chest, trying to move him but instead feeling only the mass of muscles stiffen. marble, that's what it could be compared to. this must have been the result of who knows how much training.

hold your thoughts, hold your thoughts.

“i want a kiss.” he said it so calmly that you almost had a fit, you must have heard wrong and your expression clearly betrayed your confusion. you saw him lower himself to your height, remaining just a few centimeters from your face, you felt his breath on your cheek. “i want a really nice kiss and after that i’ll move." this time the words reached your ears clearly, there was no possible misunderstanding.

and everything happened too quickly to even realize. his breathing getting closer and closer, the bodies that seemed to attract each other like magnets, he finally detached from the doorframe and obviously you saw an opportunity and took it. you took advantage and moved him enough to have a space to pass, exiting the room and with your foot on the first step. “you can do much better than that, toru.” you said that name purposely with the cadence of his girlfriend, shooting him a wink and rejoining the two in the living room.

the cheating trope had never been your favorite anyway.

maybe i’ll do a part two, i don’t know yet.

©️ venjras.

[vasel1ne]

for i cannot forgo your warmth (i will miss it dearly)

✩࿐ summary - physical possessions (both borrowed and gifted) that remind them of your warmth

✩࿐ warnings - mentions of blood, smoking and weapons

✩࿐ pairings - aglaea, fugue, gallagher, boothill, serval x gn!reader

aglaea keeps your golden pocket knife on the strap of her outer left thigh. the handle is a coarse, brown leather but the silver-gold metal of the actual blade shines with a gleam that has not met the squalor taste of blood. she wishes it won’t at all, but she knows it eventually will with her reputation as the “heartless” chrysos heir – although only for her own protection of course, she would not dare damage her dearests’ possessions. aglaea flicks her memories to the countless times she has seen you balance the blade between your nimble, agile fingers, demonstrating a plethora of tricks with the weapon as if it were an extension of your own body – from simply spinning the dagger between your fingers to twirling the sharpened side with your bare hands, she has seen it all.

she remembers the way you placed the blade in the expanse of her palm the night of your departure, the auburn tint of leather a stark contrast to the paleness of her skin. her breath always hitches when she remembers how you made her vow to you that she would protect herself, that she would “be selfish for once” – you held the hand that held your precious dagger as she made such promises to you, further dampening your departure by pressing a kiss to the side of her head. so now, aglaea keeps the blade tucked under carefully crafted robes of silk – just under the leather strap that wraps around her upper thigh.

gifted to her by you, fugue keeps ornamental hair pins in her possession at all times. as much as she may adore her long brunette locks she can admit that – more often than not – it shields her face when she is trying to eat miscellaneous snacks she buys from street vendors. finding this small peeve to dullen her experiences of strolling through the luofu’s streets, she vents her frustrations to you. naturally, a few days later she bids you farewell on your travels and thinks nothing more of her previous vexation. when you return and present her a wrapped crimson cloth, she is convinced that you’ve simply bought her a few more foreign crystals – it's not a bad thing when you do though, in fact she does quite like them, placing them in a straw-woven basket in her room. but this time, she unravels the cloth to reveal a few hairpins, a rich gold tone with intricate weaving of quartz and crimson red detailing – it seems to fit her daily attire almost perfectly.

fugue is initially confused, her head tilting to the side slightly but a small appreciative smile nevertheless. she starts to understand the incentive behind the gift when you recall her previous vexations about her hair getting in the way while she eats, and she claps her hands with glee and slight surprise and adoration that you would remember such a thing, wrapping her arms around you and placing kiss to your cheek. now whenever fugue goes out to stroll the streets of the luofu, she makes sure that she has her hair pins somewhere in her purse.

gallagher is a seemingly put-together man, however in actuality resembles the memory of a goldfish when he forgets yet again to bring a lighter to your smoke break. you’re both sitting in a secluded corner of golden hour, hidden away from his underlings when you reluctantly let him use the flame of your beloved lighter. simple is the last thing to describe the small thing, its iron casing with labyrinthine patterns and silver-gold borders makes it way above both of your guys’ pay grade. the little cherry on top is the rose flower illustrated onto the iron casing, it too also having a silver-gold border. a smirk reaches his face when you toss the lighter to him, “nice lighter you got here,” he whistles, before lighting his cigarette and tossing it over back to you.

it was foolish of you to think that your partner would have the capacity to remember his own lighter the next time you decide to take a smoke break, but alas you find yourselves in the same predicament as last time. you give a pointed glare and a roll of your eyes, handing it over to him as you lean against his side. subtly watching him from the corner of your eyes, you watch the way his calloused fingertips run over the grooved indents and patterns of the iron casing, the smile that graces his broad features when he admires the rose on the front.

the next time you’re both supposed to take your smoke break together, gallagher receives a text message from you that reads, “busy :( sorry dear can’t come” which in response he sends a quick thumbs up emoji. taking a cigarette out of a packet he realizes that he’s forgotten his lighter. again. then he receives another text message, “check your pockets ;)” sliding his hand down his right back pocket, he feels a small hard object. pulling it out to inspect it, a rose-engraved iron cased lighter sits in the palm of his hand and gallagher can’t help but bark a laugh.

boothill gets into scraps, more than often than you’d like, and much to your dismay he doesn’t intend on stopping. nevertheless, you’re always by his side after these little fights, washcloth in hand. at first, he sent you a confused look, eyebrows raised as the cloth wiped the blood off his metal chest. “why clean there – no point when it’s metal,’ he said offhandedly, leaning back with his arms supporting him. you had sighed as you wrung the washcloth in the soapy bucket, the water already turning a translucent pink. “why do we brush our teeth every night? go to bed?” you had asked him, turning your attention to his scratched and bloodied abdomen, “it’s because taking care of our body gives us the opportunity to take care of other things too,” you smiled when the inky colour of his eyes met your own, “and i think that that is one of the best things in the universe,” you said as you wiped the remaining crimson off his stomach, sealing your words with a kiss. 

without you by his side, he launches himself into the battlefield – his fearlessness and relentless nature on the field apparent in the way blood stains the reflective silver of his upper body. but now this time, boothill has a washcloth – tucked away in the pockets of his pants. you’re not there with him, to drag the cloth over his bare chest with a gentility he had never experienced until he had met you, but he can feel those moments when his fingertips graze the fibers of the cloth. so, when he gets into a scrap at golden hour, he finds himself huffing and puffing his way to the rinky-dink bar bathroom, where he braces himself against the sink. taking out the washcloth, he runs it under the tap and starts to dap away at the dirtied spots of his chest, abdomen and arms. all so maybe one day, he could do this for you.

being serval’s partner automatically makes you her involuntary lab assistant. she doesn’t ask you to do anything too hard of course, merely measuring out a few chemicals, finding bits and pieces in her workshop or just standing by her side as she tinkers with a possibly explosive invention. she also doesn’t force you to do anything if she sees you are too tired or stressed, which happens one night after a particularly arduous expedition with the silvermane guards. you’re lounging in serval’s workshop, waiting for her to finish up and your eyes cannot help but stare at your girlfriend as she weaves through her space, fetching various measurement cups and chemicals from her shelves. you watch as she very, very slowly pours in the liquid into one of the cups, eyeing it with such intensity that you worry the glass might shatter from the weight of her gaze. her electrified blue eyes are barely visible now, squinting so hard that you also fear that serval may squint her way into a migraine. 

sighing to yourself, you walk upstairs to retrieve a pair of reading glasses on your bedside table, and unsurprisingly, serval is still pouring the liquid into the beaker. sliding your hands along her shoulders to get her attention, she sets the bottle down on the counter and chirps a “hm?” when she turns to face you. plopping your reading glasses on her face, the glasses actually fit perfectly on her, the simple black rectangular frame reminds you of something akin to the old man at belebog’s museum and you giggle. serval doesn’t think much of it at the time, giving you a peck on the lips and a small “thanks” before continuing her work. you note that this time, she has her eyes open normally, having no problem with pouring the liquid into the beaker.

you also notice that serval asks you less and less to help her out in her workshop, but instead finding your reading glasses more on her face than your bedside table. of course you don’t mind, in fact, you think she looks ten times more dashing and charming with them on, biting the corner of your lip to stop yourself from smiling whenever she has them on. she even sometimes has them perching right above her forrid when talking to her actual assistant molly, and you have to restrain yourself from planting a big fat kiss on her cheek. though, it eventually makes you wonder that all those times when you were her involuntary assistant, you were more her pair of eyes then anything else.

✩࿐ a/n - after intensely staring at character designs for the past few hours i have brought you this! honkai star rail's prettiest right here

thank you for reading and hope you enjoyed !

[verysanebsdfan]

HIIII!!

So I'm not sure if you still write for killua or ciel or tokito😭 but if you do could you do some headcanoes of how they would be with a reader fem If possible that basically acts like a doll looks like a doll and basically is a doll but where also kinda creepy like we talk about disturbing things all with a smile on our face

Another one with all 3 is that reader is very VERY clingy like she loves to hug, cling,and talk to the 3 she's always around them and usually talks to them and is always seen with them !!

(sorry if it's to many)

HII!!

It is no problem whatsoever>_< TY SM FOR REQUESTING AS WELL! i hope it will be to your liking :3

Also i still do write for them but i dont think i will do for too long :(( im getting old...(for them)

MASTERLIST!!

tw: u say disturbing things, gore mentioned (sorta i think?), Muichiro one is angsty because i felt evil, spoilers for demon slayer manga ahead!!

our!Ciel Phantomhive, Tokito Muichiro, Killua Zoldyck (separate) x doll-like!reader

Ciel Phantomhive:

One thing would be the engagement with Lizzy, so for the sake of this, lets say it was canceled for....reasons

Neither of you really remember how you exactly met and got close, or what got Ciel so captivated. It may be the way you dress, always in a pretty dress, which contrasts with your beautiful skin, or maybe the way you walk, talk...he is just down bad.

After you got closer, Ciel let you be more clingy, but when he needs space, you need to respect that, or he will have Sebastian take you away (carefully to not hurt you)

After some time, Ciel actually confesses, and you get engaged cuz....it is still 19th century so...

Now, you basically live there and the servants LOVE you. When Finny is doing his work in the garden, and you sit there and have a tea with Ciel, you look like a pretty painting >_< Thats what he says at least (everyone agrees tho)

When you got to know the...darker side of Ciels business, and all the stuff he does as the queens watchdog, well...you revealed your darker side too i guess

Whenever he tells you about all he did, you always say really disturbing things, and not only him, but also Sebastian loves that >_<

"Hmm *head tilt* I think you should have slowly removed his finger nails, toe nails, and then move onto the fingers...keep them alive tho....then peel off their skin and rub salt into it- ah but thats just an idea!! (*✧×✧*)"

(˘ŏ_ŏ) "what did you just say (name)?"

well!!

Once Lizzy came over for whatever reason she had, and dressed you up, telling you that you look like a doll, no! even better!

Now imagine Ciel coming from wherever he was, and seeing you, his beautiful finacé getting dressed up as a doll, while staring into the space.

However you quickly notice him and attempt to kill him- urm hug him and start talking about your day

Overally really good, has his moments but Sebastian always helps him get better so he doesnt hurt you, emotionally i mean. After all, with him by your side, nothing can happen...

Tokito Muichiro:

Being a demon slayer is never easy, but when having someone you love by your side, it seems much easier!

When he met you on one of his missions, he thought you were a demon! There was no way a human can be this pretty, and creepy at the same time.

The way you look...empty, without soul, is really weird. The way you move, almost doll like. Thats it! You're a doll!...No that isnt right...no matter

You slay the demon, and then go eat together, because food is superior.

And then again. and again. again.

Until he developed feelings for you.

He didnt really tell you, but there were signs, you unfortunately never noticed them.

When you hug him, he blushes, and when you talk and yap about your day, he makes sure to keep every detail in mind, so he can write it up later.

He has a WHOLE NOTEBOOK dedicated to facts about you, so he doesnt forget.

His favourite part of his notebook are your quotes.

"Hey...Mui...after we kill Muzan, lets live a quiet life, together, okay?"

*to a demon* "if i didnt need to cut your head quickly, i would torture you, slowly, painfully...and then, id leave you exposed to the sun...so you can have a taste of what normal humans see. And then we will go to eat, right Mui?"

"Muii! This dango matches your eyes! LOOK LOOK!"

Down bad.

(i dont rlly remember this 100% cuz i read it some time ago, srry about that) When the last mission came, and you were fighting in the Infinity Castle, you didnt see himget hurt so bad, however, on command, you were directed to the chamber. You saw a horrific scene, what most concerned you however, was bleeding Muichiro. On the floor. Hurt.

You run up to him and take him in your arms, then start crying, and succesfully breaking your doll look.

"(Name)...please...I- i love you"

Killua Zoldyck:

Okay sooo, you two met at the Hunter Exam, in the first phase lets say

Somehow, you caught his interest, not only you are absolutely gorgeous, but youre also drinking Tonpas juice?! No ordinary girl.

He would observe you during the first phase, seeing the elegant way you run, barely tired...and then, Gon would befriend you, and then Killua! so you would be friends >_< (thank you Gon ily)

You would stick by the main group as in any average killua x reader fanfictions >_<

In the third phase, when it was your turn to fight, it took a real turn.

First, Killua wanted to go fight the big, dangerous looking guy instead of you, but when you refused, he hoped you have some tricks up your sleeve.

"Oh That must be a joke, they sent a little girl against me!" the man would say "how about a death match then?"

uh oh-

"hm...i would love that, but if i were to kill you, i dont think i could stop myself from torturing you, but that would take time, and we've been here for some time...hmmm whatever....I accept!" Ready, set, go! *and he is dead*

Kill is down bad now. What was that?! there was no blood at al, no scream, nothing. Just a loud thud. were you also an assassin?

Who knows.

After that, he knows not to mess with you, and not worry...and also, have you seen how you looked?! Great heavens...

So after a lot of bonding (over choco-robots) you were close...and he liked you, especially after you said his mom is probably a robot becuse WHAT.

You talk shit about his family.

Idk probably confesses before you go to the castle wher Meruem was yk? And brushes it off, i mean, there are worse things happening...

After all the blood shed and pain, and suffering, you meet him and Alluka (my babyyy)

Alluka would 100% love you!! So everything is good...sort of...right? RIGHT? Wrong, his mom doesnt like you but who cares about herrr...

Gon is your biggest shipper :3

( ⓛ ω ⓛ *) - u have choco robots :3?

[iwantyouto-eatme]

-QUEEN OF HEARTS

description! when shauna rigs the deck to get rid of the biggest liability, nat realises how much she really cares about the girl who pulls the card.

parings! natalie scatorccio x reader

contents! earth shattering angst (sorry), shauna shipman being a dick as usual, fluff if you squint, death :c, use of y/n , usual yellowjackets shenanigans!

not proofread!

as you reached for the deck, your heart was racing.

no one had yet gotten the queen.

so far luck had been on your side. you’ve avoided the queen before and knew you could do it again.

shauna’s smirk as you picked up your card crushed all your hopes of luck.

the queen.

your hand shook as you turned the card to reveal to the other what you had picked up.

small gasps of shock could be heard through out the room.

the most evident shock came from natalie.

the girl who swore to the other girls that she felt nothing towards the latter. an evident lie.

anyone stupid enough to believe her would be blind to not notice the longing stares natalie would give you. or the way she would grab your hand immediately if something went wrong.

she was very much in love with you, just too naive to admit it.

“ oh y/n im so sorry ” shauna spoke with such sarcasm that it broke through your skin.

shauna came up behind you and attached jackies necklace to your neck. the moment sent shivers down your spine, literally, as shaunas hands graced your neck, gently doing up the necklace.

“ good luck “ was all shauna had to say for your mind to recognise what was happening.

you were going to die tonight. one way or another.

“ you should get a head start “ shauna suggested in a voice that made you want to stab her so hard.

as you looked around at the other girls in the room, you realised how much you actually loved them.

lottie, your first real friend. she helped you through everything, first boyfriends, first soccer game to first kisses. she was the most real person you ever knew.

tai and van, the people who helped you realise that you actually weren’t into guys! it was quite subtle really but the time that you accidentally walked in on them, you realised how much that actually intrigued you.

nat.

oh how beautiful she was. her messy blonde hair that was slowly turning back to her natural brunette colour as the wilderness prevented her from taking care of the bleach. her dark eyes that were always perfectly lined with her messy eyeliner considering the circumstances they were in.

you would do anything to kiss her. although considering the fact you were about to die, that would never happen.

suddenly you were brought back to reality. the reality that you were not gonna make it out alive.

before you could even realise your feet were moving faster than your thoughts. running towards the forest.

the wild breeze blew through your hair. cording through your veins giving you a rush that you had never felt before.

the snow that would occasionally fall onto your figure provided a chill to your already cool body.

thump

you fell onto the icy ground. hard.

the white snow started to glow with a red hue.

blood trickled from your knee.

you contemplated just laying there and hoping you’d die from blood loss. until shouting was heard behind you, followed by rustling that sounded too close for comfort.

you pushed yourself up with as much strength you could muster in this stressful situation and kept going.

grasping at the necklace laced against your chest, hoping for some sort of comfort that would never come.

suddenly you felt your body drop.

like the feeling when you go down a steep drop on a carnival ride.

and then there was darkness.

a darkness that could only be described as death.

-

nat couldn’t believe what she was seeing. she went to try and find you, with help from travis.

he suggested that you may have gotten caught in one of their traps they made.

and that scared nat more than anything.

their traps were good. hidden so well that even the smartest deer would fall into it.

that’s when they saw you.

blood providing the perfect trail towards the pit trap they had made.

nat held her breath, preparing for the sight she was about to see.

your body.

pledged between spears and sticks. causing blood to fill the pit faster than anything.

“ nat “ travis whispered, holding her back.

she wanted to scream, cry, anything. but nothing would come out.

just the never ending thought that she never got to tell her she loved her.

a/n! lol y/n is pit girl now hehehehehehe. short and sweet little fic hope u liked!

[levvthan]

his apprentice. | dottore x m! reader

NSFW CONTENT BELOW - MDNI

words: 8,308

summary: "Terms and conditions, page 6." He took a brief moment to peer back down at you, grin wider than ever. "I acknowledge and consent to any assignments prepared by Il Dottore which may involve living organisms, such as humans, animals or oneself will be seen through and finalised."

By the Tsaritsa's orders, not much to Dottore's liking, you where sent to work under his wing acting as his apprentice.

!! content: masochism, pain, oral sex, anal sex, multiple orgasms, smut, recorded sex, mentions of needles, razors, self-harm

"Scalpel." Dottore asked you to hand him the blade on the metal tray you grasped in your hands.

Deep in concentration, he was working on a patient, a deceased patient with perfect organs to be specific. Unfortunately, 046 had only recently passed away due to... a 'self-injury'. At least, that's what it said on paper. It wasn't in Dottore's best interest to allow the other harbingers, and of course the fair Tsaritsa herself, catch wind that his patients where committing suicide. There's no problem in bending the truth, right? As a result, he noted on his documents that the patient had suffered from a grave wound, and that 046 where ruined goods who needed to be put down. And of course, he did not fail to mention that the patient where now to be farmed for there organs. 

You on the other hand, also shared a significant interest in science with the Doctor. Had already been affiliated with the Fatui for a while, you'd finally gained the Tsaritsa's attention. Aside from your usual duties acting as a informant, experimenting with chemicals and whatnot on the side became one of your most profound hobbies. The Tsaritsa became so fascinated with your work that she ordered you to work under Dottore's wing, acting as his apprentice. Though with this being said, Biology was not your strong suit. Yes, you where intelligent but never made it far enough to practice in more of a professional setting. Even so, you where indeed captivated by the human body, how it works, its functions and even death. This was the perfect opportunity for you to extend your knowledge, able to watch Dottore's sleigh of hand work away at the carcass.

"I won't ask you again. Scalpel, now." Dottore promptly clicked his fingers, ushering you to concentrate on his face when he leaned up. Blood painted his frame, head to torso. The only thing keeping his face clean was the flimsy surgical mask he was wearing, he tore it down below his chin - his stance telling you that he was irritated. It seemed that you did that a lot actually.

"Hmm.. are you sure? Wouldn't a larger blade prove beneficial?" 

"Who are you to question me?" His voice raised as it bounced off of the labs walls, yet you didn't flinch, you didn't even move, you remained stoic with a raised eyebrow as you did as he instructed. This particularly bothered him, not the handing of the tool but how unbothered you where. Silently judging him. Not even intimidated by his presence. By all means, he never wanted an apprentice or an assistant though he could not refuse the Tsaritsa's orders. Deep down it had damaged his ego, but that was to not ever be revealed. 

"You really do get on my fucking nerves." Dottore grimaced, raising his medical mask with scalpel now in his hand. He turned back to his patient, only just to turn again to face you.

Archons, you really knew how to get under his skin. There where a lot of ways on how you did it, you never made conversation unless the topic was something snide. Never even defending yourself when he'd call you every name under Teyvats sun. If you where to put your finger on it, what irritated Dottore the most was the fact that he couldn't distinguish if you really where just an irritating asshole, or if it was just a facade you put on just to displease him.

"My apologies, sir. May you care to explain? I'm not sure how I have annoyed you." An innocent question really, raising an eyebrow and tipping your head at an angle.

To be quite frank, he was stunned that you had talked back to him. Though he knew he shouldn't be as it was practically the norm with you now. But he hadn't grown used to it, he always made sure he had the final word with everyone. But with you, it was more complicated. You loved to snap back, to push him further. Shifting his gaze to glare at you with his piercing eyes, hand on his hip as he ripped off his mask this time and balled it in his fist.

"You love this don't you? You absolutely adore testing my patience!"

Of course you where aware of what you where doing, you made him seethe but his reactions always amused you as per usual.

"Doctor, I am now merely just observing you work and asking questions." A sly smile formed on your face, absolutely irking him.

The Doctor huffed, that was it, he was done with you for the day. Instructing one of his clones to fill in and tutor you other than himself, so that he could retreat to his other duties aside from dealing with you for the day. Archons, if you could laugh as hard as ever right then you would of. He looked borderline enraged. Who where you to come down here under his will, and irritate him to the point where he couldn't even concentrate? A thorn in his side, a distraction to his work. Yet despite his complaints, the Tsaritsa firmly insisted he was to tutor you as long as deemed fit.

"May I remind you that Tsaritsa did mention that you where the only one eligible to tutor me, not your clones." You observed as he removed his surgical gloves, the rubber slapping together as he snapped them off as it filled the thick silence. He brought his fingers to pierce his bridge atop his nose, jaw forcefully clenched. 

"Confirm just one thing for me first, L/N." Dottore sighed raising a finger, "Do you achieve anything by witnessing my frustration with you?"

"The only thing I'd like to achieve is success. By being your apprentice I'll be able to do this, surely?" 

A strain of curses left Dottore's mouth. Watching his every twitch of annoyance as he marched away, the tall wooden doors what lead from the lab to a corridor where shoved open as quickly as they had slammed shut. Though it wasn't a bother, it just proved your point that he was unstable. Success. With your tutoring session being cut short perhaps it was time to turn in for the night, you had been watching him hack away at that carcass for a while now anyway.

The room you had been allocated wasn't too far from Dottore's personal chambers actually, given that the building was massive. Plus, the space was pretty nice. Fancy patterns where engraved into the wood panelling along the walls, a cold hue of many different shades of blue resembling Snezhnaya and it's snowy plains. You had made some minor adjustments though, some houseplants and a small work station setup in the corner. Not to mention, your bed was extra comfortable with multiple fluffy blankets and feathered pillows. In the night, when it was extra cold, you had no need for a heater when cuddling up underneath your duvet would suffice.

You closed the door behind you, taking off your shoes as to not get the floor dirty. Sighing as you finally had some privacy, it was time to unwind as you grabbed a few towels and a bottle of your favourite wine. One of Dottore's clones, Zander to be specific, had gifted it you the other day - knowing it was your favourite. You had grown accustomed to living like this for the past three months, it was luxurious to say the least. Not only did you have a expensive bedroom, but also your own en-suit.

As you went to run your bath, your mind lingered on the former conflicts you've experienced with Dottore. You only but giggled when you recalled the horrifying look on his face when the Tsaritsa had first informed him of her plans. To say the topic pissed him off was an understatement, his whines and complaint where like music to your ears. It was funny really, you loved seeing him all worked up and irked by your presence. That man was smug, a know it all. The satisfaction was empowering to you really, knowing you could go as far as you liked and he couldn't even do anything about it. 'Oh I was just asking a question Doctor', 'My apologies if I have upset you, Doctor', 'Being my tutor I thought you'd have more patience with me.'.

Bubbles and steam began to rise within the bathtub which was when you undressed yourself, setting your glass of wine to the side. Wandering over to the mirror, you dropped your shirt onto the bathrooms chilly floor. Gazing at your figure, your finger traced the scars on your chest, eyes peering down at the smaller ones coating your thighs. All in places where no one could see, having a particularly nasty one just beneath your peck. You wondered what Dottore would say if he saw them. There where too many to claim that they where battle scars, including the placement seemed far too calculated. Would he be concerned? Would he comfort you? Though, you didn't harm yourself because you where sad. In fact, you loved pain. Just a little cut, bruise or even a harsh squeeze when you touched yourself at night was enough to make you cum. Perhaps, tonight was one of those nights.

Settling in your hot bath, you hadn't failed to bring a little tool along with your wine in order to make your evening alone more pleasurable. A small, light incision was made on your chest. Hand already wrapped around your hard cock, you began to stroke yourself gently. Teasing, your mind wandered back to Dottore. The way his brows furrowed as he worked, the way his hands moved so elegantly, the way he shouted at you and called you horrible names. All his failed attempted to make you feel like shit, his words unknowingly fuelled your desire for him. Replaying your thoughts as if it was a movie, your hand worked faster as you pictured that he was the one tugging on your cock. You thought about what he would say if he where to find out you where touching yourself, imagining him nude as he loomed over your smaller frame. He would definitely laugh at you, calling you a pathetic whore while degrading you further. Faint whines and whimpers passed between your lips, your face became flushed as you pressed down harshly on the open wound you had inflicted on yourself moments prior. You moaned out his name as he still lingered on your mind as you reached your high. Cum painting your chest, you let out a shaky breath before sinking lower into the warmth of the bath. 

With that being done, you cleaned yourself off promptly after relaxing for a little while longer and finishing off your wine. It tasted unusual to say the least, a slightly sour aftertaste. Swirling the glass, you peered down at the remaining drops filling it. Strange, it usually tasted rich and tannic. Had that bastards clone gifted you stale wine? But how could that even be possible, unless the bottle had been opened beforehand?

There wasn't much else to do other than take yourself to bed and ponder, skin now soft, you began to feel rather sluggish. Silk button up pyjamas, your feet touched the icy wooden floor as you went to turn the light off. Room now dark, the only source of light was the moonlight what loomed through the window. Your mind still remained on Dottore and the wine, though they kept traveling further and... further away until it was submerged by fog.

Thud. 

A sharp gasp escaped your lips, a singular bright white light strained your eyes as you where abruptly awoke by having water pour down your face. The last thing you had remembered was... well fainting. Your eyes puffy, head pounding, you where in a stone cold room where Dottore normally practiced on his patients. When did you get here? Struggling, you realised your arms and legs had been restrained as you lied on top of a hard mattress. How many hours had it been? In a daze, your sluggish mind attempted to recall the events of the moments before you fell asleep, but there was nothing to remember. 

"How was your sleep, hm?" Dottore hummed, clipboard in hand. "You've been out for a while now. Seems like that wine really did the trick."

Remaining silent, his footsteps echoed as he positioned himself behind your head. You attempted to move, turning your head until you winced at a sharp pain. Bastard, you knew not him nor his damned clones where to be trusted, but a bottle of Mondstat's finest alcohol was all too tempting. All you could do was watch his calculated movements as you wriggled under the restraints. You went to curse at him, only to be denied when you noticed a cloth covering your mouth. Biting down in attempt to discard it, it was tightly fastened around your head - thus struggling was no use.

"What's wrong F/N?" He cooed as he leant down to face you, his gloved hands holding your head in place. You where truly stuck in Dottore's grasp as he loomed over you. Gazing up, he had taken off of his mask and placed it on a nearby tray. His eyes met yours, staring into your own with anticipation.

"I really should not be doing this to my dear apprentice." Taking a step back, he chuckled as he trotted along with his speech, "Though it was all too easy, I guess I just cant help myself."

By all means, it'd been common knowledge that you had a knack for being snide. You where more than aware at how it made him tick, perhaps your insufferable comments had finally pushed him too far. But you could appreciate his dedication, this was a new low - even for him. Lacing that wine with whatever he had put in it. As sadistic as he is, you'd never imagined that he would do something as crude as to drug you and strap you down to a surgical bed, like a patient. The Tsaritsa gave him strict rules and boundaries preventing him from laying a finger on you, yet he was defying the Cryo goddess herself. Yet again, you aren't one to lie about having fantasied about something like this before. But it was all too real for your liking, so it seemed.

A piercing scrape echoed through out the stone cold room. Dottore had prepared a selection of utensils what sat neatly on his metal tray. Setting them down beside you and taking his long fluffy coat off, it appeared to you that he was prepping for... an experiment. Watching intensely as he gracefully twirled a scalpel in his hand, you eyed yourself in it's reflection as he positioned it over your eyes. Though you weren't fazed, you knew he couldn't do anything to you without putting himself in a vulnerable position with the Tsaritsa.

"So, F/N. How do you like it, working for me?" He tipped his head in curiosity, allowing you to answer by removing the cloth from your mouth.

"Dottore you fucking-" Slap.

His cold hand had crossed your face, leaving you utterly stunned in shock. It felt as if he had been preparing that one for a while now. Wincing, he stuffed the cloth back into your mouth much deeper this time. Practically choking on the wrenched thing, wide eyes peering up at his shit eating grin. Oh yes, he was enjoying this already.

"I thought you would've been more cautious, the wine was a gift from Zander after all." He tutted, his icy fingertips stroking your chin as he observed how your brows knitted together. "Who knew you where such a sucker for liquor?" 

You didn't want to hear his ramble, yet that was the only thing you could do. He shuffled to the side, paper tray what'd been set to the side no longer remaining idle. He took the first page on his stack, eyes narrowing when you realised it turned out to be the contract you had signed months prior. Clearing his throat, his finger hovered beneath a sentence. It was hard to read from the angle you where positioned at, yet the inking was rather small so you would've struggled to read it even if you where sitting the right way up. 

"Terms and conditions, page 6." He took a brief moment to peer back down at you, his stance confident which was not a good sign at all. "I acknowledge and consent to any assignments prepared by Il Dottore which may involve living organisms, such as humans, animals or oneself will be seen through and finalised."

Gut wrenching dread turned you pale. Putting the emphasis on 'oneself', how in the hells did you miss that? A satisfying chuckle from him did not soothe your anxieties as he found glory in your disturbed expression, he knew exactly what you where thinking. His voice grew deep, his cold breath hitting your neck when he leaned down ever so closer to your skin. "Looks like someone isn't as insightful they claim they are." 

"Now, we shall begin! Unless you don't want to?" Dottore asked sincerely, taking your silence as consent knowing you couldn't respond anyway. "Oh! And I will be recording this by the way, you know the drill by now, having to document these experiment of ours for the fair lady." Directing your attention to the already setup camera atop a tripod to your left.

All he did was take in the expression you held. Full of dread, you'd seen him work before and it was far from anything pretty - he was going to torture you and he even had the audacity to record it. Did he really just want to make you suffer? To kill you? No, he could've done that already by now according to that wrenched contract. 

"I never knew you had such wonderful soft skin." He hummed in approval, raising your sleeves leaving your arms bare as the cold nipped away at them.

Your breath hitched as you felt his gloved fingers run from your wrist to your bicep. All you could do was stare forward, the glaring white light dazzled your eyes but it was far better than giving Dottore the satisfaction on watching his movements. His touch shockingly moved to something more harsh, prodding and squeezing the fat and muscle on your arm. You didn't want to admit that you where actually enjoying this, it'd been a long time since someone had touched you in this manner. 

"Now, I'm going to take a sample of your blood." Already a syringe in Dottore's hand, he tapped the tip as you took a deep breath. "No need to be tense F/N, all you need to do is relax." 

Not even giving you a warning, your eyes twitched as you felt the long needle cut through your skin. Though you couldn't help but direct your attention to watch. The syringe turned crimson, as it slowly drained blood from your arm. Meanwhile, Dottore was having his own fun watching you timidly squirm. It humoured him really, you'd been so sly - a know it all since the day you first met. Yet, now here you where caged in his grasp. He finally had you just where he wanted.

He raised the syringe from your arm, back onto his tray where he wrapped it in a small plastic bag. A small sigh escaped his lips when he stood up, only for you to tense again as his hands travelled to unbutton your shirt. Gloved hands fumbling with the buttons, the cold now nipping away at your chest rather than your arms. Torso littered with scars, your wrists where so soft yet your chest looked wicked. Shivering under Dottore's touch, watching intensely as the words you had to say remained muffled. Though it intrigued Dottore, he allowed you to speak by removing the cloth.

"What are you going to do to me?" Attempting to redirect his attention with strained breath and questions, chest rising when he retrieved a scalpel. 

Your weary tone had surprised the sadistic man stood over you, a deep callous laugh. He had only ever heard you speak in a plain manner, now he was getting somewhere. 

"Just making a few observations." He hummed, "Say, where did you get all these scars from?"

Removing his glove Dottore slowly traced the thin open wound with his slender finger you'd made yesterday, scarlet coating his fingertip as he reopened it. With anticipation, you gazed as he unexpectedly popped it into his mouth. The unexpected action left you with another surprise, blood rushing to your cock as the sense of arousal began to flow through your body. Tongue swirling while the copper taste flooded his mouth, of course he had taken note of your change in attitude. With a pop he released his finger from his mouth, a trail of saliva dribbled down his hand. 

"Would you look at that... my theory was correct all along." His voice low, deeper than you'd ever heard. Drawn out breaths, his hand made it's way closer to your pelvis.

The smug smile on his face made you want to scream, but you couldn't help but find yourself wanting to discover what was next to come. 

"Surely, you wouldn't mind? It's apart of my experiment after all." Finger hovering over the waistline of the bottom half to your nightwear. 

The pit of your stomach burned as you longed for his touch already. It was that your lust had been captured by him, touching yourself every night could never satisfy you to the fullest. No amount of fingers on your hands stuffed inside you could ever guide you astray from the true needs of wanting his cock. Yes, he knew your dirty secret, he'd known it all along. He had just been preparing for the right time to strike, the moment you where most vulnerable.

He pulled your silk pants down, your growing tent now visible in your undergarments. Dottore's crimson eyes only took but a glance, before meeting your own. 

"And only days ago you where claiming I was the sadistic one." He humiliated you, how pathetic you where under his touch. 

Your muffled whines didn't fall on deaf ears, though he kept the cloth in your mouth knowing your speech weren't to be trusted. Tugging your nightwear fully off, your body had been exposed. How twisted, his apprentice now nude beneath him with only underwear covering your most private areas. Observing the additional scarring what coated your thighs, Dottore bit his lip ever so slightly before giving one a brief squeeze. He felt how tender you where, prodding and poking with his slender fingers further as pre-cum stained the cloth covering your cock. You could've came there on the spot, face now red you never knew how much you'd wanted this.

"I've heard you, countless of times in that bathroom of yours. This place may be fancy but the walls are... rather thin." He dipped his head down to your neck, your breath hitching as his surrounded you with warmth. 

A small yet enticing lick, then nibble, until his lips sucked a sweet love bite into your neck. The next one was not so soft, much to your liking, making you whimper as you twitched under his touch. He didn't stop there, he coated your neck and collarbones until they where purple. Until you thought he was finished, he teased a dreary breath, a forceful bite as his teeth snagged at your delicate skin sent you into a paralysis of shock - eyes rolling backwards. Your cock straining, as a long interlude of whines escaped your mouth - muffled by the cloth. The warm sensation, hot and sticky, soiled your undergarments as you fell limp. Dottore only but slowly adjusted himself to observe the unexpected mess you had made, fascinating. 

"Hmm." Pondering, he stripped you of his touch as he retrieved his clipboard. "Subject is most definitely a masochist." The jotting of his pen and his slow breaths made you turn to face him, recovering from your high whilst gazing up at his frame. He finally set it to aside, before then going to remove the cloth what was now drenched in your saliva.

Dottore had half expected you to hurl harsh words at him, though to his surprise you had none to share. You only panted, licking your chin in attempted to recollect strayed spit. Sharing a short lived stare into each others eyes, the signs where already there. You both knew it, your half lidded eyes with your tent already pitched after a small breather.

"Oh, you're a dirty little thing aren't you?" He let out a length chuckle, which you adored as it sent lustful shivers down your spine. "Are you sure you haven't humiliated yourself enough already? This video is going to be reviewed by the Tsaritsa after all."

Eager nods, fully submit. With all due respect, damn the Tsaritsa. You where enjoying this far too much now, what's the harm in experimenting a little further? 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Your eager nods had not gone unnoticed, though Dottore couldn't but help chuckle at the state of you. Who knew you could be persuaded this easily? Only your tutor of course, he wasn't one to be toyed with and you had clearly been too naïve to realise. Now he has you wrapped around his finger, fully submit underneath his will. 

"Tell me, F/N, why did you really want to work down here? Far far away from civilisation, surely there's more to it." Dottore lingered around you, observing your withering state. "There's far more efficient courses above land, such as the Sumeru's Akademiya, or maybe even Liyue."

A genuine question really, and it made sense. Though, wasn't it obvious?

"I... I want to work... here, with you." Hitching breath, dreary eyelids, your answer peaked his interest. 

"And why is that?" He was only but a fraction away from your face, looming over you as stray azure hairs fell from the tuck behind his ears. His hot, soft breaths only inches away leaving you longing for him to grow closer.  

A momentary pause, you weren't sure if you should reveal your secret. Even though Dottore already knew, and had known for quite some time by now, it was all still embarrassing to put into words. Your face flushed, cheeks rosy as the soil in your pants earlier began to dribble. Dottore was growing impatient, he wanted to hear it in your own words, he needed nothing but for you to spill the truth he already knew. The Tsaritsa needed to know what a filthy whore you where, the one filthy whore she had became so fascinated with as of late. Grabbing you by the jaw, you clenched as he had forced you to sit up. His grip was harsh and controlling. A soft moan escaped your lips making his brows furrow, not that it was to his disliking though.

"Answer me." Dottore detested against your dreary silence, his eyes pierced into your own - a mixture of lust and dominance. The truth was he wanted you as much as you wanted him, but there was only one way he could allow himself. He could never let himself be perceived as needy, as wanting to for fill his pleasures, he needed you to give him an excuse. The grip he had on your jaw made its way down to your throat, your breath unsteady as you felt his grip become ever so heavier. 

"I..." Teasing with your words, even when you're trapped in his grasp you still managed to make him tick. You didn't fail to notice his eye twitching as he bit his lip in anticipation for your words, "I need for you to fuck me, Dottore." 

That was it, your consent had been given and there was now going back. Dottore had finally become undone, a low growl could be faintly heard as he slammed you back to lie down. Wincing, you watched as his movements grew more aggressive rather than elegant and taunt. Still being restrained you couldn't do much but watch as he unbuttoned his dark blue shirt in a rough manor. Chest hairs matching the colour what lied on his head, complimented by a faint snail trail leading down to his obvious bulge. He where a lot more buff that you'd imagined, his waist a lot more synched too as his belt hung loosely from his hips. The sight of his torso alone where enough to make you hard again, your eyes danced as you took in the sight of him. 

Dottore took a mental note of how you admired him, it prompted his cock to grow stiffer as his fingers grew closer to the buckle of his belt. He fumbled with it shortly, his slender fingers slowly but surely teasing you as you watched. That was until, he had an idea. He stopped in his tracks. You where practically throbbing, foaming at the mouth even, his change in direction startled you. Fishing something out of his pocket, a key. Not just any key, a key to the restraints wrapped around your wrists and ankles. Oh, if this weren't already getting good. 

"I trust you won't do anything stupid." Dottore muttered, keys chiming as you excitedly waited for your release. "Don't make me regret this."

Rubbing your wrists, peering down at your red ankles, you sat up as you turned to face Dottore. He relaxed his hand on the edge of the bed, his spare one hovered over your thigh as it palmed your crotch. His piercing eyes peering up at your own. It was as if he where waiting for something, something only you could deliver. A kiss, more of a peck really is what it'd been. But he abruptly tore his lips away from yours, strange. It seemed he wanted to kiss you, and more than just briefly. But the thought of such an intimate act would be crossing a line in his book - he hesitated.

"Nuh uh, that won't do." Your voice now capturing Dottores ears, sounding a lot more confident now you weren't restrained. Was that a good idea? It made him shiver to be quite frank, the way your finger had directed his face back in front of your own, "Let's give that another try." Dottore looked perplexed at first, but was shortly amused by your sudden dominance. 

Lips clashing together softly, you held the back of his head this time - soft silky hair in your palm. He tasted sickly sweet, a taste no one would ever had guessed. Lips only slightly chapped, yet still finding yourself satisfied with the way he leaned into your touch. It was one of the most passionate kisses you had ever given. Your lips danced together in harmony, your tongue asking for permission to enter his mouth. Soft grunts from Dottore turned you dreary, he was practically melting. This man had strapped you down, drugged you, even got you to cum without touching your cock once, yet here he is groaning as your tongue coated itself in his own saliva.

You had expected him to scold you for being so cocky this soon but he where enjoying it far too much. Perhaps he was a sucker for kisses? While he was distracted with the passionate moment you both where sharing, your hand sneakily travelled to his waist. Gripping him lightly at first, the moan he let out prompted you to tug him closer as you swerved around on your bottom, so that he where stood in-between your legs as you where perched on the surgery table. Not breaking the kiss once, your thumbs rubbed circles on his pelvis. Dottores tongue now finding its was into your own mouth, he took back his dominance over you far too easily. You whimpered as you felt his hands fall on top of your own, guiding them towards his belt buckle. Already feeling the heat from his clothed tent, the fact you where so close to his cock made you harshly bite down on your lip. 

"What are you waiting for?" Dottore purred against your neck, his breath hot and heavy as you drew the faintest bit of blood. 

Fingers fumbling with the buckle, you finally had a grasp on his zipper. Slowly tugging it down, wanting this moment to last forever. All that remained now was his underwear sheathing his dick, it was right there in your grasp, your needy finger went to tug at the waistband until the unexpected nip Dottore made at your neck caught you off guard. It where already bruised from the session beforehand, making you wince as you lost track at what your hands where doing. 

"Ngh, that hurts." Whining, you earned a chuckle of approval from the man above you. 

"Oh? And isn't that what you like?" He questioned before biting down even harder.

"Mhm..." Was all you could answer as he worked away from your neck, lower and lower down to your chest. You where practically purple by the time he had finished, his lips travelling leaving a prompt nip upon your jawline. 

His teasing and torment made the want of acting on your whims build up, you wanted - no needed to go a step further. Dottore on the other hand wanted it slow, he was to take the lead, but you had other plans. You hadn't agreed to a mere make out session, you lusted for pure intimacy between the two of you. Thus you becoming reckless, growing impatient. 

The position you where in granted you easy access in wrapping your legs around his hips, encasing him in your grasp. Caught off guard Dottore grunted as he fell into you, unexpectedly realising you where quick to fish your fingers into his underwear. Feeling his hard cock twitch as you examined it with your touch, the warmth seized the coldness of your own hand. It felt good, far too good, your hand wrapped around his length as your idle fingers swiftly tugged down his waistband. Dottore on the other hand was shocked, but not surprised. It was common knowledge you where devious, but he hadn't expected you to wield the confidence in taking over so quickly. 

His hands what laid behind you prompted his body from tumbling on top your own, glancing up his face only centimetres away from your own. He took in your distracted expression, sensing the impulse you held. Though the way you acted so eagerly, driven by the crave you had for his presence, made him want the same just as much. You where spontaneous, rude, snide, it was all clear to him now that it wasn't annoyance what made him seethe over you. It was sexual tension - what you had purposefully created. All the times you had 'dropped something' and bent over, ass up in all its glory for him to witness. The way you would gracefully twirl your wine glass, giving him a shameless wink. Even the things you'd do to yourself in the bathroom, calling out his name - though you hadn't planned on him knowing about this one. Dottore was done with your little games, he where now to be in charge of the tension, if you wanted to fuck then he would most defiantly fuck.

Your hand still being wrapped around his aching cock, his underwear now wrapped around his thighs beneath his balls. Beginning to pump him but failing to notice his change in stance. 

"Eager little thing!" Dottore scolded you, his hand coming into contact with your face once again - leaving a harsh red mark. 

Squirming at the sting the impact left, you hadn't expected him to detest your sudden shift in confidence being too caught up in your desires. It turned you on all the bit more, Dottore learnt not to be dissatisfied with your reaction but to embrace it. If not even pain could falter your furtive self, then he'd have to use more forceful ways. 

His hands gripped your shoulders, swerving and pinning you down harshly back onto the surgical bed. It stunned you, his strength being unmatched. Watching with eager eyes as his own fingers found there way to his cock, he began stroking himself at the sight of your pained body. You went to sit back up, to assist him, yet he wanted none of that. 

"How difficult is it for you to follow a simple order?" Voice now deep, his spare hand now pinning you down below him.

Biting your lip as your cock ached, needing to spring free from your own underwear. You knew you had to confirm your submission to get what you wanted, it was the only way he'd ever accept you.

"Please..." Lighter than a whisper you pleaded with faint whines, your expression the softest Dottore had ever seen it. He could tell your pleads where genuine, it sent him into awe, he'd never seen you like this before - who knew you could appear so elegant?

"What was that?" But he longed to hear you again, for you to beg for his touch. He began to touch himself ever so lightly again, in front of you in all his glory.

"I want you... to touch me... please..." You signalled at your throbbing member trapped beneath your clothing, the man above you more occupied with is own pleasure than yours, "Dott-... Zandik..."

What was that? 

You eyed him sneakily, keeping the submit expression you held. Watching the sudden change in expression at the sudden use of his name, his eyes wide as his body momentarily wobbled - moving hand jolting. He ushered his head away from you, to the side, as he bit his lip forcefully. His chest now heavy, he groaned, before the unexpected release of his seed spilled from his cock. It not even giving the chance for him to redirect the stream, or for you to move yourself. It happened all too quickly, his cum painted your chin and chest as it drizzled down your skin in a slow manor. The two of you only but observed what had just happened, you sat up - collecting yourself. But you where still left unsatisfied, even if Dottore had just humiliated himself with not even being able to last five minutes. 

You didn't do anything but utter his name, his real name. Was that really all it took to get him there? Though, before you even had figured it weren't best to jab at this unexpected outcome, your eyes caught his own as he faced to look at you. Half lidded eyes, he examined the way you where still hard, still flush, and now complimented by his cum. 

He pounced on you, hungrier than ever. Lips dancing with one another again. It sent you back into your daze, it was clear he had never left his. All he needed was a momentary breather for his cock to spring back into action, and for you to look at him the way you had. 

A moaning mess as his hand palmed your strained dick, it'd taken so long for things to get to this moment. A build up of excitement, of lust, it all brewed inside of you. He was finally touching you, the man you had longed to have for what felt like centuries. His fingers hurriedly inviting themselves into your own pants, the exact way you did to his own. Tearing them down, his hand teasing your cock before giving you a light squeeze. A moaning, whimpering mess he had made of you as he lowered the surgical bed you lied on with his foot on the pedal.

"You like this really, don't you?" Dottore questioned you as he broke the kiss. Peering up at his starving grin, his eyes more crimson than ever as his stray hairs framed his face. "Getting under my skin all the time, tch- and here you are whimpering, and begging me to fuck you." 

His spare hand raised to grip your face, squashing your cheeks together, before his index finger swiped his cum what plastered your chin. He then went to grip your jaw, you obliged before he forcefully stuck his slender finger down your throat - coated in his own cum. It was still warm, briefly choking on his finger as your tongue swirled as it took in the sour taste. He thoroughly enjoyed watching you taste him, his finger deep in your mouth complimented by your saliva. Your hums of approval vibrating his hand, he swiftly removed it with precision. 

With a satisfied expression plastering his face, Dottore released your face as he gave the side of your head a tap of approval. Body tensing when his finger had travelled downwards, to your chest, to your abdomen, to your pelvis... all the way down to your member. Without even a second of hesitation, he pulled your nightwear down to your knees and then fully off. Observing the dried mess you had made earlier, still warmer than ever. Tossing them to the side, the cold air nipped away at your neglected area, watching in exhaustion as Dottore clambered onto the bed. He spread your legs, his finger examining the scars what coated them for a short while, until he was practically lying on top of you. You felt like prey captured by it's beast, as the finger you had previously coated in your saliva made its way down to your neglected hole.

Whimpering as he teased you, he spread your ass with his hand before pushing his finger deep inside. Dottores eyes capturing the way your cock twitched, your head pulling back as your face scrunched... just the utter lewd sight of you made Dottore fill with bliss, the same as yourself. He wanted you to savour every second of your pleasure, the humiliation of your tutor fingering you all while it was being recorded. Slowly his single finger building up to two... then three... which made your moans grow louder and louder. He longed for you to regret coming here, medalling with his career. Making him look like fool, pissing him off every living second you where down here working for him. Yet, he was giving you exactly what you wanted. Dottore motioned his three fingers in a scissoring like manor, stretching you out in preparation for something greater.

Becoming a hot, moaning mess underneath him. His fingers roughly penetrating you, brushing against your prostate, it was all too much.

"I- I'm gonna-" Gasps and heavy breaths, you felt the pit of your stomach burn before your second release, but, that never came. Dottore had denied your orgasm, swiftly pulling his fingers from your hole as sheer disappointment washed over you. 

He giggled, taking in your desperate face. Your prepped ass before him, your twitching cock aching for more. 

"Are you ready?" He had asked you, all you could do was nod. No words left to be said, just pleads for him to fill you.

Watching with desperate eyes, the way he lifted your thighs to rest behind over shoulders sent shivers down your spine. The way his hands felt so right against your skin, to then travel down to his own cock as he aligned it with your hole. You took a sharp breath , on release you both shared a glance what felt like minutes, but alas it was only for a second. Until he invited himself in, you wrapped around his length perfectly. Your heart pounding, biting down on your lip as he finally had entered you. Dottore let out a few strangled moans of his own, unexpected to how good you felt, pushing himself in until he could go no further.

He went slow at first, savouring every second. The way the sound of your moans danced against his ears made him grip your thighs tighter, until he left crimson marks upon your skin. He began to fuck you harder and harder, letting himself become a slave to his desires. Before you knew it he was pummelling himself into you like there where no tomorrow, it seemed he needed this as much as you did. 

You reached down to stroke your untouched cock, moans and whimpers filling the laboratory as they bounced off the walls. You touched yourself with vigour, Dottore watching the sight unfold before him. He licked his lips, collecting lost saliva from his desperate pants, before an idea struck his mind. Raising one of his hands, leaving your left thigh absent, he deeply pressed down on the recent wound he had made. 

"Ah!" Was all you could let out as you flinched, it stung - it burned. But it felt all too good.

Dottores hand pressed down harder, sweat now finding its way down from his body onto you. 

"You filthy, fucking whore." The way he sounded, you'd never heard this tone before. It made you quiver as the overstimulation finally hit you. 

He went harder, deeper, hitting your prostate too many times. His hand squeezing your wound harder, blood now starting to coat his palm. The right hand he had on your other thigh left, edging its way over to your cock what you grasped. Dottore grabbed your wrist ushering you away from yourself, replacing it with his own. The way his hand tugged on you, the way he was manhandling you like you where his toy. He squeezed, stroked, even spat to create a makeshift lubricate as he picked up his pace. 

You where nearing your end, barley hanging on your moans now shrivelled and weak - Dottores too. Both close to your release, you wanted to savour this tender moment. Despite the lustful fog what clouded your head your hand reached up, and touched his face. Your finger caressed his cheek and then his lip, thought Dottore didn't have time to react to your sudden touch of affection. Quickly leaning up to kiss him so passionately. His moans vibrated against your lips as he opened his mouth, his body tensing along with your own. His cum filled you, painting your insides hot and sticky. Your own release coating his stomach as he laid above you, skin dripping with sweat red and flush. You didn't dare break the kiss, only enjoying the intense moment you both where sharing. 

Dottore didn't want to acknowledge what'd happened, the sudden feelings piercing his heart. But there he was kissing you as his cum spilled inside of you. His grasp on you lightening when he let go, pulling away slowly. He pulled out his cock shortly after meeting your eyes, redirecting his gaze to watch the aftermath leak out of your hole. On the other hand, you only leant back down as a sigh left your lips.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The room now silent, until you felt Dottore redirect his body to stand. He looked as if he had lost something, you'd figured he would be more satisfied with this turnout of results.

"Dottore?" You spoke out, he handed you a wipe before he began to clothe himself. Ignoring you, you sighed and cleaned yourself off before reaching for the nightwear you formerly had on.

"No need to put those back on, I have your usual clothes here." Voice coarse, he gifted you the normal outfit you wore for work. 

Moments passed, you put the clothing on and brushed yourself down. Though you still felt sticky, you needed a shower. But first, you had to know something.

"Are you... alright?" Working up the courage to question your tutor, he was now fumbling with the camera he had set up what captured your intimate moment together. 

He ignored you again.

Sitting up, lifting yourself off of the table. You wobbled, having to catch yourself from falling. Legs feeling almost numb, quite frankly your ass was pounding and sore - not that you minded.

"You shouldn't be standing." He warned you as he watched you struggle over to him, voice stern.

"Then carry me back to my room." Giggling as a sigh then escaped your lips. Letting yourself fall into him as he caught you in his arms, he couldn't help admire you.

Still cheeky, after you'd been through all that. Maybe there was no changing you.

A/N: this fic was posted to my AO3 around three years ago as a request from a friend :p

[paxesoterica]

I fell behind on GQuuuuuuX watching, but recently caught up (as of episode 5).

I don't think I've written down my thoughts about the show previously, so here are my notes so far:

*I love the vibrancy of the colors in this show, especially the multi-colors used for character eyes.

*Machu's impulsive willingness to use violence for the sake of others is a nice contrast to her shock at seeing people actually die, and I'm curious where her character development is going to go from there. Compared to past Gundam protagonists, I'd say right now she bears the most resemblance to Kamille, but I can't help but note a few Suletta undertones as well; to be sure, she strongly contrasts with Suletta's initial desire for a 'normal life', but the two share a sense of justice and willingness to stand up for others, as well as an initial willingness to let someone else guide their actions.

*Machu is heavily associated with jellyfish, including a stylized jellyfish on her beanie and slippers; even the wire attacks of both the Witch and the Black Tri-Stars are arguably evocative of jellyfish using their tendrils to attack prey. Some types of jellyfish are known to be bioluminescent, to which her desire for Kira-Kira might allude, and while jellyfish can swim, they'll sometimes let themselves be carried along by the current or the wind, letting an external force guide them rather than relying on their own strength.

*Something is up with Machu's Haro. It's possible it might be connected with Amuro, due to it being a Haro and being able to unlock the Psycommu functions of the GQuuuuuuX. I also can't help but think the fact that Amuro's dad, Dr. Tem, didn't suffer brain damage in this timeline, is going to be significant somehow.

*Nyaan is still a bit mysterious, but the last episode affirmed for me that her most prominent trait is pragmatism, and a willingness to do what she needs to to get through the day.

*Her vision of Kira-Kira is notably different from the one shared between Shuji, Machu, and Shiiko, and I think that might be due to how Machu and Shiiko were both drawn toward Shuji/the Red Gundam (albeit for very different reasons) and thereby his vision of Kira-Kira, while Nyaan realized she couldn't rely on Shuji and had to resort to her own strength instead. Perhaps, in time, Machu's perception of Kira-Kira will change into something different as well.

*I've heard some folks mention that Nyaan might be Thai, based on her skin tone and (nick?)name, and her situation is an allusion to the real world struggles of Thai immigrants in Japan. I'm unfortunately not particularly well-informed on that, but I will note that development on GQuuuuuuX started a little bit after the 2019 anime film, Seven Days War, which has a prominent plot point of Japanese high school students protecting a Thai immigrant kid from the police. That connection might seem a bit tenuous, but please note that the main writer was Ichiro Okouchi, and that this film also featured a prominent plot point of the male protagonist's crush revealing that she was a lesbian and actually in love with her best friend, with both said friend accepting those feelings and the protagonist being gracious about the situation, so arguably the film has a stronger connection to Gundam than you might think.

*Shuji gives me Anthy vibes, in the sense of being a potential friend to the protagonist, but who's under the influence of some malevolent other that may drive the two to conflict instead.

*Shuji's alias for Clan-Bat is 'Hara Herimushi', which apparently translates to 'Hungry Tapeworm', referring to a parasite that can live in the intestines and cause stomach troubles (or, in its larval cyst form, it might instead be located in the brain and cause a change of behavior).

*Shuji is way too casual/calm about killing somebody in a combat game that doesn't need to be lethal, but considering how helpful he's been in making money for everyone, it makes sense why Machu and Nyaan are ignoring all these glaring red flags.

*Shippers, as they say, will ship, but my current assessment on that front is that Machu has some attraction to Nyaan and Shuji, Nyaan has some attraction to Machu, and Shuji doesn't really seem interested in either that way. The last episode ended on a cliffhanger that would seem to indicate that Machu and Nyaan are going to 'fight over a dude', and I can certainly see why some viewers might genuinely believe that, but I trust Yoji Enokido, who is one of the main writers on the show, to be more nuanced and complicated than that. In any event though, these three are on some sort of collision course, and I can only hope they fare better than Amuro, Char, and Lalah did.

*This post analyzes our main trio by of comparing them to Enokido's previous work on characters from Revolutionary Girl Utena and Diebuster, and I recommend reading it if you haven't already.

*Speaking of which, I do find it funny how people keep overlooking his work in favor of Hideaki Anno. I feel that if more people paid attention, they would recall that he's previously been the main writer on both Revolutionary Girl Utena and Star Driver, both of which utlilized a duel format for its fights up until the end, so the Clan-Bat stuff feels like a pretty natural progression from that. The show might shift to outright war toward the end, especially if a Season 2 gets announced after episode 12, but I wouldn't necessarily expect or count on that.

*The TV series omits mentioning the Rose of Sharon or Char's fight with Sayla, but since it frames the 0079 portion as a flashback being recounted by Challia, I'm guessing he may simply not know those details, and hopefully both events will be revealed in a later recount. Shuji does mention that the Red Gundam is looking for 'a rose' on Earth, which means that my initial speculation that Shuji might be the Rose of Sharon is probably incorrect (and it's also probably not any of the major characters we've seen so far, assuming that the Rose is a person and not an object of some sort).

*I don't think any of the theories that any of the new characters are secretly old characters from previous UC shows are correct, but I wouldn't be surprised if several of them are linked to previous characters in ways that we simply don't know about yet.

*I've seen some folk speculate that, because the Zeon trio is running after the main trio toward the end of the opening credits, that means our leads will be joining the Zeon crew. However, I think it just means they're all ultimately after the same thing, and that doesn't necessarily indicate they'll engage in jolly cooperation; they could very well be rivals instead.

*Shiiko Sugai reminds me a bit of Juri Arisugawa from Revolutionary Girl Utena, in their beliefs of 'there are no chosen ones/Newtypes' vs. 'there's no such thing as miracles', and even a little bit in how both want more from life than the expected 'traditional' roles of women. Unlike Juri, Shiiko seems to be straight, but she clearly wants more than just a life as a wife and mother, and I can't help but contrast her continued pursuit of a combat role with how Fraw Bow and Mirai Yashima became relegated to background characters in Zeta while their husbands continued fighting.

*I actually wondered if Shiiko might be related Mirai or Bright considering that she has the GQuuuuuuX equivalent of dot eyes, but at this point it seems to have just been a stylistic allusion to 0079 than anything deeper.

*Challia seems way too cheerful about a civilian stealing a secret military project under his purview, and using its experimental systems for a combat game. Perhaps he's hoping it will cause a second Zeknova, and give him the opportunity to learn more about Char's fate.

*Challia's casual acceptance of Nyaan's brutal use of her Mav suggests that, in contrast to his genial demeanor and seemingly kindly treatment of Xavier, he has some rather unhealthy ideas about how relationships should work...but perhaps that should be expected of a man who's still 'in the thrall of the Red Comet' a good five years after the latter's disappearance.

[nightmare-dreamt]

Hello!! May I request a monster high x Fem!reader, who's a new student. She ran into some students, and she looks like a human, so everyone thought she was a normie, but she turns out to be a monster with powers. She can turn into a human form or a monster form, so shes still the same person, but she can change her looks, she can change her looks to a human or her monster form.

But she's also

🥀DROP

💋DEAD

❤️‍🔥GORGEOUS

When everyone though she was a normie some actually though she was the best looking normie they've seen before, but obviously chosenot to say and wouldn't admit it. But when they found out she was a monster, (half monster half normie) when she turns into her monster form she's even more beautiful🥹💕

Everyone's jaw would probably drop🤭

Monster high x beautiful half normie and half monster Fem!reader.

Can it be a oneshot please?🥺 If you want it to be a headcannon or something, that's also fine, but can you also include the characters such as the Frankie and the ghouls, and the guys too, like heath, Holt and etc in the oneshot/headcanon.

Sorry this looks long, it's probably cause of how much I wrote-

Anyways thanks and have a good day/night!!

Monster High Request:

Frankie:

Human Form: When the two of you first met, it was when you and your human friends were trying to save their monster friend Holt. The two of you got along really well and shared similar ideas when it came to saving their friend.

When her eyes landed on your form, her heart stopped unlike the way it usually does and now butterflies were in her stomach making her feet heavier than before. You were like a god/goddess in her eyes and she didn't know what to do. When you felt eyes on your back, you turned meeting her gaze which led to her blushing profusely and popping her hand off to cover her face.

Monster Form: You tried your hardest to hide your monster form, afraid of what everyone might have thought but it was bound to be revealed sooner or later. You slipped up one day when transforming late at night and assuming everyone was sleeping, but a photo was taken and soon spreaded around about your true identity.

When she saw the picture a clear confusion was on their face, but then admiration and adoration took over and their heart began beating faster. Frankle thinks both of your forms are super cool and they're fine with you being in either one. They make sure to help figure out who took your picture and spreaded it, refusing to stand this hatred against you and your monster identity.

Draculaura:

Human Form: You met the vampire from Frankie who introduced you to their friends wanting all of you to get along and become great friends as well. At first, you were afraid, never having met a vampire before, but when you got to know the pink vampire your fear faded away. You got along with her well and always had sleepovers together, laughing and enjoying your time with each other.

It was hard for her since she thought her feelings were for Clawd, but when the two of you began hanging out more and more new found feelings began to form. She's gone through the pros and cons of dating both of you, but everything seemed evened out besides the fact that you're a human…

Monster form: She saw the photo and didn't believe it, unsure if the photo was even real, totally believing that you were full human without a single scent of monster in you. Her skin grew darker with a blush when seeing your gorgeous looks on your monster form as well making her choice now even more difficult.

Clawdeen:

Human Form: When the two of you met, it was strange. The two of you didn't talk much besides when one of the others were around and helped start the conversations. The two of you were basically mutals that had the same friends.

You weren't that close with her until the group went to Paris and she had you model one of her outfits. In the moment, when she saw your form in one of her outsides shining in the moonlight, her mind went blank with only you in her thoughts. She couldn't help but think how good you looked with the moon shining onto your skin and the outfit that fit your body perfectly, hitting everything correctly just like how she had planned.

Monster Form: When her eyes landed on the picture, the same thing from Paris occurred with your mind going blank and only you in her thoughts. She then felt anger knowing someone took your picture without your permission and revealed your secret that was clearly hidden for a reason. She was quick to come and comfort you making sure that everything was alright. (She won't admit it, but she also went to see your monster form in person and you looked even more exquisite in person)

Clawd:

Human Form: You met the werewolf from his sister and his crush, which wasn't a great idea because now he was facing one of the greatest choices of his life. For the past month, he's been seeing Draculaura, but when you showed up his heart and mind haven't been the same and he liked it. His feelings for the vampire were still there but he now also had feelings for you as well.

Monster Form: You had shown him and when you did his eyes widened instantly seeing your glowing complexion and soon the air felt like it was taken out of him. You made him nervous and he didn't know what to do, making things even worse for his relationship as you also started getting closer with the vampire. He knew deep down that he had to do the right thing, but something else held him down.

Holt:

Human Form: You met him when trying to save his counterpart from the other humans who thought all monsters were bad, which wasn't true at all. You were shocked when seeing him going through the same thing you were. When attending monster high, the first thing you did was look for him and show him your form wanting to show him that having two sides wasn't always bad.

Monster Form: When he saw that you were just like him, his heart fluttered knowing he wasn't alone in this world of being human and monster. You became great friends with him spending most of your time at monster high with him talking about the strange things the two of you have done with your abilities. When news about your transromation became known, he stood up for you making sure no one treated you the way they treated him for being human and monster.

-

A/n - Sorry I couldn't do all of the characters. this was already over two pages and would have been more. If you want I can do a part 2 with more characters :)

[fun-eralsss]

was making a post about all my intersex headcanons, but i realized that so many of them were from homestuck that i might as well make a whole post solely about them. so yea :)

btw this one’s gonna be LONG AS HELL

homestuck headcanons (intersex edition because i do what i want :p)

first off, the humans!!

jade harley (NCAH): honestly, it’s mostly just vibes. plus her whole thing is dogs n stuff. dogs have a lot of hair. you know who else has lots of hair? people with NCAH

roxy lalonde (AIS): remember that whole thing where hussie revealed the last two letters of her name first, so everyone immediately headcanonned her as a trans woman, then it was confirmed that she’s cis? homegirl can have XY chromosomes while being cis! bada bing bada boom!

ok now the trolls!! (this section will be significantly longer lmao)

sollux captor (Chimerism): first of all, his blood is literally yellow, so yknow. second of all, duality is a HUGE part of his character! it just makes sense for him to be a chimera to me tbh (i also headcanon that gold and violetbloods are more likely to be medically recognized as intersex but that’s an entirely different can of worms)

nepeta leijon (PCOS): same reasoning as jade, but her whole thing is cats. cats have lots of hair. you know who else has lots of hair? people with PCOS

kanaya maryam (Klinefelter’s Syndrome): most people depict her as being super tall, and you know who tends to be super tall? yeah :)

(i know that it’s kinda implied at all jadebloods are female, just let me have trans intersex kanaya. i beg. i grovel at your feet)

terezi pyrope (undeclared, likely Chimerism): i feel like she would really love to bring up her intersexuality while arguing with a transphobe or intersexist. she would also probably not disclose what her specific variation is so they couldn’t pull the whole “you’re just a fe/male with a dsd!!!!” bs. also, balance is a huge part of her character, so i feel like chimerism particularly suits her

equius zahhak (Hyperandrogenism): his body is quite literally overflowing with testosterone. man is literally sweating 24/7 and frankly, no other indigobloods seem to have as much testosterone as him, so we know this isn’t typical. they’re all strong, yeah, but this guy is on a whole other level. i just KNOW this boy’s skin is oily as hell

(also yes!! i headcanon equius as a cis guy with hyperandrogenism!! intersex doesn’t just mean “man with lots of estrogen” or “woman with lots of androgen”!!)

eridan ampora (PAIS): ok this one is one im actually super passionate about. in the og comic, all female trolls are consistently drawn with black lips (with the exception of nepeta, who i’ve already included on here). all the male trolls are drawn without the lips except for eridan. eridan is shown to have black lips in multiple panels! back when it was first pointed out, most assumed it was because of how feminine he is compared to the other guys, but you know what? idc!!! that boy is intersex and indulges in toxic masculinity due to his insecurity!!! idc what anyone has to say!!! also his blood is literally violet so yknow

damara megido (CAIS): i think she would get a really big kick out of not having body hair, periods or the ability to give birth. obviously there are downsides to it, but i doubt those would get in her way of having fun. i also think she would really like reclaiming That One Japanese Slur For Intersex People

cronus ampora (MAIS): mostly cause vibes and the fact that he’s related to eridan, so it’s more likely. what can i say, the ampora boys are very “does being intersex make me less of a man?” coded

bonuses!!!

rose lalonde (PCOS): she gives me the vibe of a woman who has PCOS but doesn’t consider herself intersex due to how little it affects her. tho i imagine that she’s done lots of reading on intersex variations considering how two people she cares deeply about (kanaya and roxy) do consider themselves intersex

dave strider (MAIS): i know that trans dave is a super popular headcanon and don’t get me wrong, transgender icon dave strider will save the world!! it’s just that for me personally, i’ve only been able to see him as an intersex guy. though in his case, i imagine that he would find out pretty late into his life. and like his sister, considering how little it’s affected his life, he wouldn’t consider himself intersex either

anyways yeah that’s it :) have a good day <3

[thegremlininyourcloset]

Writer’s block? Nah. Poll time!

and look! Two of them are new!

so, which idea would you like me to work on? A description of each of each is under the cut!

(also, What Goes Bump In The Night is a series)

and @fictfrenzy

Step Left For A Better Future

Starring: Stephanie Brown and Jason Todd, with a fair bit of background bats

Inspired By: the handful of Steph in Titans-Tower fics in existence

Stephanie Brown knows she was never meant to be Robin. She knows she’s just a stand-in till Tim’s dad pulls his head out of his ass. She doesn’t even mind it! (Mostly) But she is getting pretty fucking tired of literally EVERY SINGLE asshole in the entirety of Gotham City waving that fact directly in her face. So when the Red Hood shows up in Titans Tower, yammering about her being the “wrong Robin”, Steph is at her limit. And when the Red Hood reveals himself to be Jason Todd? She snaps.

Notes: You’re kidding yourself if you think Jason wasn’t Steph’s Robin. Also, no batcest here or ever

Angst Level: This one is significantly less humorous than all of the Steph-in-Titans-Tower fics I’ve read. Steph’s going through it, Jason’s going through it…everyone suffers before we get any joy. May evolve into a series (who am i kidding, it probably will)

flightless

Starring: Carrie Kelley & the other bats but mostly Carrie

Carrie Kelley has a secret. She knows. And the things that Carrie knows scare her. Like the names of all of Gotham’s vigilantes…past, present,…and future. Or the exact number of times the timeline has been altered. (Spoiler, it’s a lot.) Or the fact that she was once Robin, but has never worn the costume in her lifetime.

Or the fact that she witnessed the end of the world.

Notes: Uh oh! Seems the universe has glitched a little…Surely that won’t go badly?

Angst: does this count as horror? Like, maybe? It’s sad, anyway. Sad and trippy.

What Goes Bump In The Night

Starring: the Batfamily

Gotham City is cursed. This is not new information to literally anybody who lives there, nor to anyone who knows literally anything about the city at all. Gotham City is cursed multiple times. This fact is a tad more obscure. Gotham City is alive. This fact is the only one of the three that may constitute an actual secret.

And Gotham City has favorites.

None more so than the Bats who patrol Her city, protecting Her people, and bringing hope to those who had none.

And Lady Gotham’s (as those who know the truth call Her) favoritism comes with…consequences.

Notes: oho what’s this? A cryptid Batfamily AU? And it’s a series!

Angst: Will vary from fic to fic. There will be some elements of horror in them all, though

a shape all your own

Starring: Damian Wayne and Stephanie Brown (maybe with Cass and Tim appearances?)

Son of the Bat

Grandson of the Demon’s Head

These titles have defined Damian for as long as he can remember. And yet…

And yet recently, they have started to feel…wrong. 

Incorrect, at the very least. Damian is most certainly not the only son Father has.

And…Damian has…noticed something. Because sometimes Damian feels wrong. Like his skin doesn’t quite fit over his bones.

He wonders how long it’s been there.

H̶e̶ ̶w̶o̶n̶d̶e̶r̶s̶ ̶i̶f̶ ̶i̶t̶ ̶m̶e̶a̶n̶s̶ ̶h̶e̶’̶s̶ ̶b̶r̶o̶k̶e̶n̶.̶

Notes: oh hmmm…wonder if you can guess what this is gonna be…hehe ;) 

Angst: definitely some.

[anxiousnerdwritings]

Molly loses her shit when seventeen year old criminal!Weasley accidentally reveals a tattoo inspired by Lestrange!OC!Daughter on his arm Sirius loves it though

something like this ^ found it on Reddit lmao but it's kind of cool

I fucking love it!!!!!❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Molly would be absolutely horrified, like she’s the type to desperately try to wash/rub it off not wanting to believe whatsoever that it is in deed very real and very permanent.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the issue, Lestrange!Daughter!OC absolutely adores it!. She would be so overjoyed that her darling has gotten something so permanently etched onto his skin that resembles her, something that’ll remind him of her forever. She views this as his way of showing that he belongs to her, now her only thing is coming up with the perfect way to do the same. Let’s be honest, she’d very well just carve his name into her skin herself but she knows he’d fret too much over that but she may just end up getting the Reader’s name tattooed on her, somewhere everyone can see it.

And she’ll show it off any given chance she can, purposely only choosing to wear outfits that show it off or accentuate it more.

Sirius would actually really like it. He thinks it subtly suits Lestrange!Daughter perfectly as well. Not to mention I think Bellatrix would adore it as well. Besides, the fact that Criminal!Weasley!Reader even went as far as getting something regarding her daughter tattooed on him to begin with, let alone something that resembled her so closely like that, certainly earns him some brownie points with her.

[aggro-my-beloved]

Trash Polka (AsherxBabe)

note: this hasn’t been fully looked over/edited so if you notice my mistakes just pretend you don’t. k thx.

summary: *doodles that a person draws on themselves will appear on their soulmate’s skin* [babe is tired of wearing hoodies in summer, and leggings in the spring. but their soulmate seems too caught up in his career to mind leaving little notes and drawings on their skin, rather than revealing himself. babe DOESN’T take matters into their own hands, but they soon won’t be covered by a mod-podge of their soulmate’s scribbles. one can hope, at least.]

pairing(s): AsherxBabe (romantic), AsherxDavid (platonic)

warning(s): none

word count: 1.4k

estimated reading time: 7 mins

taglist: @ther3alsweetheart @darlin-collins @professionallyyappinabtangst @elles-roses @ashertickler mwah

“GLOVES AGAIN? IT’S A HUNDRED degrees outside.” Katherine quips from her desk. As usual, Babe’s morning is all swearing and stumbles through the office building as they don a more than modest collection of clothing.

“I think it’s a hundred and one, actually.” Vinny chortles from his cubicle. Since turning down his invitation to be his plus one at the office holiday party the year prior, he’s been more prone to poke fun at them. Babe illustrates the smirk tugging at his lips and fantasizes ripping it clean off his visage while preparing for another busy morning. Bag strap on the back of their chair. The largest iced coffee Starbucks could provide them on the ceramic coaster gifted by Katherine, which reads some motivational slogan Babe would be caught dead uttering in any unironic fashion.

“I still don’t know how you manage to work like that.” Their colleague’s tone is the perfect balance of judgment and concern; a siren song can draw the most taboo answers from anyone she crosses paths with. Babe is aware of this, and yet they still respond. Katherine is approachable, but isn’t as prone to flapping her lips compared to others who lurk in the office.

“I told you before, Kat, I get cold easily. Low iron, and stuff.” Babe clears their throat and wiggles their chair closer to the computer before them. A few minutes pass, and they flicker their eyes between the two cubicles on either side of them, harboring a yapping Vinny on his phone, and Katherine engrossed in her bookkeeping tasks. Babe’s movement is subtle as they sink lower in their chair, and stretch their arms beneath their desktop to flick on the fan to its highest setting. Another glance back and forth. More nonsense gabs from Vinny. Even more sounds of filing papers from Katherine. They are sandwiched in a personal hell, but the heavy dress pants and turtleneck strangling their figure may be to blame for that.

Relieving wool gloves from their hands has grown to be an orgasmic experience for Babe. One of the few things they miss about working remotely is the pleasure of joining video meetings half-naked, and feel content with the fact that their colleagues are none the wiser about what their lower half is lacking. In this office full of prying eyes and passive-aggressive chatter, though, the simple act of baring their hands fills them with equal amounts of pleasure and shame of a lambasted stripper.

Babe’s eyes cascade over the swoops and strikes of black ink on skin, written in their spoken language but still holding no significant meaning—the lines embedded in their palm act as lines on ruled paper.

Sm Tourn @ Davey’s Fri 8

Buy milk, almost out

DO NOT DRINK MILK IN FRIDGE!

For whatever reason, the person who left these notes for themself also found it apropos to doodle a smiley face below the crease of their thumb. Babe stiffens at the tickling sensation on their opposite hand and draws their attention toward the writing slowly appearing on it. It’s messier than chicken scratch with some typos, like every other message this person leaves for them to discover, but Babe’s witnessed these messages long enough to decode them, or at the very least, try to.

The first time their parents discovered the writing on their skin, it couldn’t have come at a worse time. They were freshly tween, overflowing with naivety and curiosity, and they assumed their anonymous messenger was too. Babe’s father clocked them at the dinner table and demanded they show him their hand, where a “naughty” word written in bold lettering was spelled out on four out of five of their knuckles. Any excuse Babe mustered in that moment would have been a lie because they were still clueless as to how random notes appeared on their skin, or who the person writing them was.

They chalked it off as a word they heard from their classmates, but it didn’t satisfy their parents in the slightest. Babe missed a whole week's worth of Pokémon and Spongebob on the family television and held that grudge for as long as they could remember. But with no face or name to target their anger towards, they learned that stewing was pointless. Soapy water was the obvious solution in Babe’s mind. Just scrub hard enough and there would be no proof, right? Wrong. Whatever mystical power is embedded in this ink, or Babe’s skin, allows it to last twenty-four hours when fighting against soap, stain sticks, or even concealer. From that point on, Babe wrestled themselves into floor-length bottoms and long-sleeves up until high school graduation.

They’ve struggled falling asleep at night, trying to view this anomaly as a “gift”. Nobody else they’ve come across has poorly drawn Star Trek characters or names of midwest emo bands littering their epidermis like a composition notebook. Not to mention the person distributing these excerpts of their life–who are they? Do they know they’re capable of something like this? Do they even know Babe exists, and ponders the consequences of this condition in their life, and cries at the reminder that they can never purchase that crop top on sale or be stared at walking down the beach with a sweatshirt on?

Babe is broken out of their spiraling thoughts by Madelyn’s request to fetch the mail from the lobby. They didn’t catch the particular reason, but their ears perked up at the words “big check we need to run.” Babe feels invisible strings urging their eyes to roll and fights them, seizing the pair of gloves and bustling towards the nearest elevator. Once upon a time, Babe would take any excuse to waltz down the seventeen flights of stairs to dilly dally. But that was before their thoughts became consumed with dying of heat stroke between concrete walls and cotton layers.

Babe finds solace in the empty elevator, and decides to savor the feeling of bare hands in every way imaginable by cracking their knuckles, reaching them up to the fluorescent lights of the lift and drenching their skin in the gleam. In seconds, they become clenched fists, clammy and unresponsive at the sound of quickly approaching steps and voice growing in volume.

“Look, I know I left the stove on. I’m sorry, buddy. It was just a little flare up...” In a panic, Babe reaches forward to jab the button to close the doors, and halts at the sight of their hand, covered in more scribbles than before. They reduce themself into the corner, hastily cloaking their hands with the gloves. Amidst putting on the second one, the voice introduces its body in the picture as it squeezes through the elevator doors right before they shut. His phone is situated between his ear and shoulder, as he shuffles through the large stack of paperwork between his hands.

His hands…

Look just like…

“Bye buddy, love you!” His blonde hair swishes against his forehead as he cranes his neck down to end the call. “He’s really trying to turn me into that guy who’s being super loud on their phone in the elevator.” While pocketing his phone, Babe’s eyes follow his hands, scribbled in black. He retrieves a pen from behind his ear, uncaps it with his mouth and lets the ballpoint make contact with his skin before he begins writing. Babe feels the familiar tickle, but is too in shock to respond. Halfway through his latest entry, he shakes the pen violently with a grunt. “Damn, this thing’s getting low on ink.”

Through his peripheral vision, the blonde peeks over at the second set of hands in the elevator, and notices some writing peeking out from the half-worn glove overtaking Babe’s left hand. “Another avid notetaker, I see. My friends can’t stand it when I write on my skin. They say it's a one way trip to ink poisoning. But it’s saving the trees, right?” Again, the nervous chuckle floats through the space, and then awkward silence. Babe’s lips remain parted in awe, too caught up in the current revelation to grab hold of anything as the elevator’s motor stutters and comes to a sudden halt. Before they could tumble to the floor, his coated hands caught them amidst their teetering. Blue eyes pooling with an intimidating level of concern, stare them down.

“Aw man, I think the elevator got stuck. Hey, are you alright?” The eyes flicker down, and the man appears to harbor the same revelation as Babe when he further inspects the writing on their hand. At least, they thought…

“No way! You like Star Trek too?”

soulmate september schedule | main masterlist | abt author

[beevosmeower]

requesting 💯, 🍎, & 🍝 for the ask meme! :) fire engine red trio...

💯 HUNDRED POINTS SYMBOL - share three random facts about your oc that others may not know.

Juno the Charm:

$350 to get that hair… it’s 100 per month to get her roots touched up then tone out the bleach overlay. Her original color is like a deep coral

One of her molars is fake! She shattered it as a kid right after her adult teeth came in. Her dad was incredibly stressed by it and she has dental visits every 6 months on the dot.

She gets along with Avery pretty well since they know her dad. She met them pretty often too throughout her childhood, you could almost say they get her better than her dad does in terms of her worst urges. She’d be MUCH different if they influenced her more, it’s better that Avery just wasn’t interested in getting to know her past doing it for appearances and brownie points towards her father otherwise she’d be FAR worse.

Luka the Bite:

Teeth grow back. “We don’t know why” he has like 20 fish transformation points from FUCK knows where

Allergic to sheep and cat dander.

He’s not a fan of foods you can swallow right away. Or candies that you suck on. He can’t handle sour candy at all or he’ll cry.

Roman the Revelation:

Roman has a big issue in seeing contrast outside. Their contrast sensitivity doesn’t cause that many issues for them and you wouldn’t know unless you asked them to spot something in the background.

I mentioned it in passing in another post but their halo makes a humming noise. It’ll burn and cauterize a divot in your skin if you touch it.

Roman can control their pupil dilation. They use it mostly to control their reactions and cover up how they actually feel in public. It be a bit awkward if people saw their pupils dilate like a cats every time they saw someone bloody and beat up on the street.

🍎 RED APPLE - where was your oc born? do they still live in/around their place of birth or do they live somewhere else? how do they feel about their birthplace?

Juno was born and raised in Rapechestershire. She went to kindergarten with Whitney actually! It’s all she’s ever known, and even though she’s been on trips out of town with her father she doesn’t have enough of an emotional attachment on sex for her to really see it as different to being cornered and flirted with or propositioned in any other place. For Juno, being harassed for sex is on the same level as being cornered by vendors in tourist cities.

Luka was born on the side of the road. No further comment. He was brought to Bailey’s since it was the only orphanage nearby during that time of year that wasn’t full. The day he entered is also his birthday :) he’s a December baby. He’s not a ward of Bailey anymore since he’s one of the few who paid off his debts, but he doesn’t have the willpower to move away anymore. It’s sort of comfort in the current hell over venturing into the unknown? He’s never set a foot outside the town, he’s barely ever even been on the outskirts of the forest.

Roman was surrendered LATE. They were dropped off at a hospital at 16, both parents alive but just. Didn’t want them anymore. “I have an appointment, go and check in for me and I’ll be right out” never seen again. They didn’t have much affection for them anyways, so Roman moreso found annoyance in the way it happened. After all they were acting like an exemplary “son” weren’t they? How dare you leave them after all the effort they’ve put in. They couldn’t care less about what left them behind… but they do miss the place. Times where they got breaks or sneaking out at midnight to the fields of grass and looking up. They had it all. They just didn’t know there was more to take too, and now it’s gonna be everyone’s issue.

🍝 SPAGHETTI - what is/are your oc's favorite food(s)?

NOOOOOOO UR GONNA REVEAL HOW I HAVE NOTHING DECIDED FOR JUNO’S FAMILY. Cop out answer, her favorite food is her moms favorite dish: Dal. She grew up eating a lot of vegetarian dishes growing up. If her dad didn’t also make some foods his parents taught him then she would’ve probably grown up entirely vegetarian.

Luka really enjoys pork bulgogi. The fish tf craves meat /silly. He also just really enjoys the sensations of a food he has to chew a lot.

Roman doesn’t have the chance to be picky since they’re the only pc DoLOc… They like grilled sandwiches. It’s easy to make, plus they can get the ingredients and stretch it out for weeks while changing it up slightly so it doesn’t seem gross after a bit.

[melinoelliones]

You and Abby were never the closest, if anything Mel made you despise the girl, so how did you end up in her bed?

MINORS DNI/AGELESS BLOGS DNI/ANTI DC DNI/18+

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

Warnings: Fingering, cursing, praise, enemies to lovers if you squint, pussy eating, cum eating!! fem reader

1.5k words

This was so rushed, please forgive me Abby lovers, I am one of you I promise, I will do better next time!!!! I have many more Abby pieces comin.

“Well would you look at that, your underwear is soaked yet you said you hate me”? The girl chuckled, never taking her eyes off of you as you scowled. “You think you’re funny?”, “Not really, but I do think I know a girl begging for my touch when I see one”

You and Abby were never the closest to each other, you met through Manny but only really had very surface level conversations. Yet here you were, in the room they shared down to your intimates with her while Manny left to grab food, who would’ve guessed.

“You can just give in you know”, “I bet that's what you’d want” you spat, her eyebrows rising in shock as a smirk emerged on her face, “Spicy one aren’t ya, I like that, but let’s see how long it lasts huh?”.

Before you could even get a word out she was already on top of you, her knee between your legs, pressing ever so softly on your sensitive core resulting in a small moan from you. 

“Oh, you like that?” Abby teased, shifting her weight onto that knee to help soothe the ache, your eyes avoiding hers. “Oh c’mon, no need to be so shy” she cooed, your face heating up as hers moved closer.

“Who said I’m shy?” you stuttered, your cheeks heating up slightly, “hmm I don’t know, the fact that you can’t even look me in the eye says enough dontcha think?”. Abby always had that effect on you, you always tried to brush it off but yet it always came back, she made you overly nervous but you always found yourself gravitating to her, even if Mel warned you about her.

Before you could even think of a rebuttal Abby shifted back to sit on her knees, her happy trail on display as your eyes wandered her body. All she had on was a pair of boxer shorts and a sports bra but fuck she looked so good, almost effortlessly. “Like what you see?”, “Oh, shut up” you sighed sarcastically, rolling your eyes as she smoothed back her signature braid before placing herself between your thighs, her knee still wet from your underwear.

“Abby I~” “Don’t worry, I’m here” she reassured, trailing sweet kisses along your inner thighs, nibbling down on your pillowy skin as it melted at her touch. She knew it was your first time, you guys had discussed it while Manny was there, that may or may not have been the reason why he suddenly was ‘so hungry’ and ‘needed to go get everyone food’.

You felt as her kisses inched closer and closer to the source of the burning heat between your legs, your heartbeat fastening with every passing second before you felt her fingers tug at the fabric covering you. “Let's take these off, is that okay?” she asked, wanting to make sure you were still up to this. 

She observed you hesitate slightly before nodding, it wasn't as if you didn’t want this, it was actually quite the opposite but the nerves were still there. “Just like that?” she smiled sincerely, entangling damp thin fabric around her fingers, sliding them off to reveal the sopping messing before her, it almost glistening as she took a breath.

“Fuuck, well would you look at that” she groaned, shaking the smirk off her face as she dived right in, coating your slick folds in her saliva before placing her soft lips around your clit, the warmth from them sending the softest of shivers down your body. 

Abby lapped her tongue around your throbbing bud, sucking on it every so often as to never neglect it, “I~It feels so good” you moaned, earning yourself a chuckle from her against your skin. “Oh I bet it does” she grumbled against you, pulling away to look at your heated face.

“You’re basically dripping” the girl grinned, using her forefingers to part your lips as she took in the sight of your precum leak out from you, her eyebrows furrowing in desire as she took in the sight before her. She wanted nothing more than to absolutely devour you whole, tongue fuck you till your body had nothing else to give, but maybe not for your first time.

“I’ll take it slow okay?” she glowed, slipping a single digit into you with no effort, your body taking her so well. She took her time with you, slowly gliding it in and out of you, “Abby please” you whined wanting more.

“Please what? C’mon you got it, tell me what you want” she looked up at you, she wanted to hear you say it, say how much you want her to fuck you with more fingers, one was never enough was it. “I can’t help you if you don’t”. 

Swallowing your pride you spoke up, “P~Please, Abby I need more”, “as you wish princess” she teased, wasting no time in sliding another finger in, bringing another whine from you to the surface, turning her on even more. She loved the sound of your needy voice asking her for anything, she knew that took a lot.

Your body attempted to toss and turn as while filled you with her fingers, she was knuckles deep as her tips grazed your sweet spot. Holding your hips with her spare hand you cried, “Abby I’m so c~cl” “hang on for me” she cut you off, not wanting you to cum like this.

“What are yo~ fuuuck fuck” you mewled, rolling your head back into the pillow as she latched herself back onto your swollen clit, flicking the tip of her tongue against it before suckling on it. The girl was almost as heated as you at this point, her eyes half lidded while taking care of you.

Abby chuckled to herself as she felt your hands against her head, pulling her into you as close as you could, at this point you were desperate for her to help you reach the end. “Aha, easy tiger” she growled, the vibrations of her words helping you edge closer and closer.

Your body was at its limit, your hips rolling against the girls fingers as she fastened the pace of her fingers, practically pounding at your sweet spot as you choked out pure curses and whimpers, “go on, I know you wanna” she murmured between breaths, knowing exactly what you needed.

As if on cue you came, the burn in your stomach cooling itself off little by little as you painted her fingers white with your release. “Atta girl” she praised you, slowing down the pace of her fingers just enough to let you ride out your orgasm, also not wanting to let any of your arousal seep out.

Abby rose to her knees as she watched your body relaxed below her, your eyes full of nothing but lust and high as they met hers, you were just perfect. “Well would you look at that”, she announced, burrowing her digits in your sensitive cunt one last time to catch every last drop of you, rising them up to show you before sucking you off them. She was now hooked on the taste of you, even if it was the first time, not that you’d want any other conclusion of course. 

As you attempted to sit up your thighs trembled, knocking you back down sharply. “Easy there, I got you” she cooed, helping you back against the headboard whilst settling beside you, pulling the covers over the both of you as you thanked her.

“I think it’s only right that you get a taste too” Abby smirked, pulling your face towards her till your lips met. With your pride already down the drain you took the first move, slipping your tongue into hers, she was not expecting for you to take that leap. A moan from you rolled into her mouth whilst as she deepened the kiss, not wanting to let you to have all the fun, the flavour of you coming from her mouth sending you into overdrive.

As the kiss started to heaten up you both jumped, the noise of the door unlocking snapping the two of you out of the trance, a trail of saliva still connecting you to as she pulled back. Shouting emerged as you heard the door open and close, “Aye sorry I took so long, I couldn’t cut in line this tim~” Manny cut himself off, his eyes darting straight to the soiled underwear on the floor, then to the both of you huddled under Abby’s sheets.

“Am I interrupting somethin~” “no you’re fine we were just er, chilling” the girl protested however Manny was no idiot, “right….. Well, foods on the counter” he laughed, backing away to the kitchen. “Just to let you know, you’re a bad fuckin liar” he jested, plopping himself on his bed with no care in the world.

Abby had no intention of letting him get in the way of what you guys were doing, the curtain on her bedframe had more than one use and she intended to show you, the night was only just beginning.