#the woman had no hair on her legs and was wearing pink heels with ankle cuffs and holding a pink bag with a chain coming out of it

[ziptie-bouquet]

Saw an ad on a billboard that used an AI generated image. It was some fucking misogynistic bullshit about laser hair removal that looked like it was pulled out of normie cishet bdsm porn. It makes me so angry man.

[elliesmainhoe]

You deserve more

Ellie Williams x fem!reader (modern!au)

Summary: after you caught your boyfriend making out with another girl at a bar, you call Ellie for a ride home.

Content: cheating, slight angst, fluff fluff fluff and more fluff, gay panic, a bit of internalised homophobia, comfort, pining, confessions, kissing.❤️

My Masterlist

God. This shit was not helping your mental state. Tears streaming down red cheeks, blood shot eyes and puffy lips as you walked down the road trying desperately to get away from that bar.

Ankles throbbing in pain as your heels fell into a rhythmic shuffle on the slippery pavement, dodging puddles occasionally due to the current downpour of rain. Sobs crept up your throat begging to be released but you swallowed them down. Men like him don't deserve your tears, men don't deserve tears at all, stuck up entitled dicks.

The image of your (now ex) boyfriend of 4 months sloppily making out with a beautiful, gorgeous girl infuriated you in so many ways. One of those being that you were jealous, not of her, but of him. The intrusive thought of kissing that beautiful blonde in a green dress creeping into your mind but leaving just as quickly as it came. Another is that it was Ingrained in your head as much as the blonde in the green dress was beautiful and perfect all from just the quick glance you saw of her, the thought of someone else sharing a kiss with you slipped into your mind.

Shaking your head to rid those unnecessary thoughts as cars flew past you on the road causing you to stumble slightly, your thin square toe heels giving up beneath you, your body collapsing on to the wet cold concrete. A whimper left your lips at the harsh impact as a stab of pain ran up your ankle into your legs.

You don't know why you did this to yourself, having come to the conclusion that heels were invented for sadists by masochists and were a torture device that slowly eliminated any ankle support you posses, years ago.

But here you are sitting on the dirty floor by the side of a road you couldn't name, unable to get up, drenched tangled hair, running makeup and snotty nose. Grabbing your phone you gazed at the screen.

"Shit"

A large crack split your screen in half, nervousness now increasing and your hands shake as you press the on button.

The light flickers on and a verbal sigh leaves your lips, a small smile grazes your lips at the photos of you and Ellie in a photo booth showing off cheesy grins and back to back, you swipe to your contacts and your fingers hover over the contact.

'Ells ❤️💪⭐🧟🚀🦕🦖👨‍🚀🔭'

The contact name remained the same from the day you first met, the coffee shop where she spilt her hot chocolate all over your new flowy white dress and patchwork jacket. One thing lead to another and she offered to pay for a new dress, which lead to a trip to the mall, and then the park and then a new Mexican resteraunt that opened downtown and the rest was history.

You have been best friends for three years, knowing eachother a little too much for comfort. Ellie always knew if something you did wouldn't work out or not, it was slightly unnerving but you tried not dwell on it too much.

Ellie always said that dating that 'ass hat' was a bad idea, and to be honest, I knew that too. But my feelings were getting too much and the adoration couldn't be applied to Ellie in a platonic way anymore, so I had to find someone else to love. The hurt of not feeling comfortable with any pretty girl let alone the hottest woman who had ever walked the earth (who just happened to be your best friend) fucking sucked.

Ellie was so perfect, her beautiful fucking smile, her soft eyes, her plush lips, her gorgeous hands, her laugh, her humour. She was your everything. She was so unapologetically herself, so open about her sexuality, her up bringing, you envied her.

You were the peak idea of femininity and you hated it, always dating the athletic boys, clad in pink and dresses, always wearing makeup, you were quiet, smart and pretty. You never liked the boys you dated, always analysing them and picking a half decent boy to date just so you wouldn't rouse suspision.

A loud van drove past music blasting as your head came back to your current situation, your fingers trembled as the cold of the wind had began getting you and you clicked on her name and keyboard smash of emojis.

Ring

Ring

Ring

Ring

"hey, what's up?" A gravely voice traveled out your phone speaker, sleep evident in her voice. "did I wake you I'm, uh, I'm sorry." You say trying to seem as normal as you could, although the hoarse voice and sniffs said otherwise.

"Oh what did that fucker do now, do you want me to beat him up? You know I will if you give me the word" she says seemingly more awake."I uh, don't want to talk about it right now Ells, can you come pick me up, I slipped and rolled my ankle. Can't get home. I don't know the road I'm on but it's opposite the salons parking lot." You sniff as you look around your surroundings trying to find a landmark so Ellie could come find you.

"Got it. I'll be there in ten, stay safe till I get there, yeah?" "yeah, see you in a bit Ells"

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

And as promised when the time finally went from 1:43 to 1:53, a red pickup truck pulled up and Ellie got out the driver's side picking you up from the floor clad in a grey hoodie and matching sweats, hair pulled up messily and concern etched upon her features. God, she was so beautiful.

She opened the passenger door, not yet saying a word and put you down on the seat, leaning over to buckle you up, seemingly forgetting it was just your leg you couldn't move not your arms. Hot air drifted out of the trucks dashboard and you closed your eyes letting the warmth consume your being, and eventually your shaking body slowly eased.

The rumble of the old trucks engine brought you back to reality, eyes zeroing onto Ellie's face, worry obvious on her face but you could tell she was holding back, trying not to impose.

"I found AssHat making out with this blonde chick at the bar on fourth street" you say bluntly and emotionlessly. Your ability to cry had now been used up and tears could no longer physically form.

"what the actual fuck, he was so lucky he even got a chance with you and he wasted it just like that! You're so hot, way to hot for him and he wasted that. Ungrateful shitbag... On a serious note though... You good? " She says looking into the rearview mirror at your expressionless face.

Shrugging "I don't know Ells. I'm so confused, I don't know what I feel, I'm sad but I'm not sad. I fucking hate it. Jus' wanna go home" she hummed in acknowledgement.

"you wanna stay over tonight, pretty girl?, got loads of junk food you can binge eat and theres a few films I've been meaning to watch with you, could make you feel a bit better." "I'd really like that Ells, thanks" you say, a smile gracing your face at the nickname making Ellie smile back at you.

"never a problem for you, gorgeous"

----------

Thirty minutes into a shitty horror film about a haunted house and some creepy ass poltergeists that Ellie seemed far to enamoured with, a small smile graced your face when you looked at her, Ellie made everything better, just her presence made anything and everything clear for you.

Ellie felt your gaze burn into the side of her face, but she didn't move to look at you. She had been thinking about what to say to you. It was weird... You just got cheated on and yeah you seem a little down, but right now you seem quite contempt, bundled up under a cocoon of blankets on her cheap second hand leather couch and gazing at her. You were so beautiful, inside and out.

She couldn't understand men. Why would they let such a beautiful, stunning, funny, amazing girl like you down. Ellie always thought about your shitty ex boyfriends, scoffing as she recalled horror stories you told her about. She would treat you so much better, she'd show you off to everyone, be so affectionate, cheer you up when you're upset, cook you breakfast in the morning, buy you flowers unprompted.

Fuck it.

"Hey Y/N..." She whispers still looking at the TV screen, scared to meet your eyes... your mesmerising eyes. She received a soft hum in response, telling her to continue.

"we've been friends for years now and I can't imagine my life without you. I know I seem like I have my shit together, but without you I would be so hopeless, so lost. You're such a wonderful person and so so beautiful, and you deserve someone who values that just as much as I do. And whatever boy ends up being that for you, who wins your heart, is so so so fucking lucky."

She finally looks at you, your eyes wide and watering, a small meek smile painted on your lips, you were suddenly so close to her, you bite down on your lip softly preparing yourself for what you want to say.

"oh Ellie... I don't want a boy, he can't have my heart. I want you Ellie, in every way possible, I want you to brush your hands through my hair, I want to steal your hoodies, I want to kiss you and hug you and love you. Your all I've ever wanted" you said, you were both so close now, centimeters away from eachother.

Ellie tilted her head and softly attached her lips with yours her hand going towards the back of your head pulling you in closer, you could feel her smile through the kiss, her lips were so soft and you could taste the vanilla ice-cream that still lingered on her lips. The kiss was soft, gentle and every once in a while you would break apart, Ellie mumbled words like "pretty, baby, mine", whether it was mumbled when they left her mouth or became incoherent when they reached your hazy mine is unknown.

Her hands softly combed through your hair, detangling and plaiting, your hand rested on her cheek rubbing circles on her skin. A sudden laugh startled you as you looked up at the blushing brunette you were now straddling.

"God that was so fucking cheesy" she laughed, and you joined in.

"well at least we're self aware" you said back a stupid smile on your face.

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

Omg. My first fic ever and I don't think I like it 💀. But anything for Ellie(the love of my life). Anyways I hope you enjoyed the very basic fic you just read, constructive criticism and requests are appreciated.

PROOF READ

[cobragardens]

The Missed(?) Connection

Here's a story about how fucking stupid life is.

When I worked in Manchester city centre I would commute in every day on the train from one of the market towns. This would have been c. 2014-2015, before I started having panic attacks about going to work but after I'd been written up for being 5-10 minutes late most mornings.*

Every morning I would walk up Deansgate from Deansgate Station to the office, stopping at a Sainsburys Local to buy breakfast. This particular morning I was late as usual, so the great migration had already browsed the foliage of yogurt bars and uninspiring sandwiches and thundered onwards; besides the store clerk there was only one other person in the shop with me.

Do you believe people can fall in love at first sight?

I did not believe any such thing, so it was QUITE THE SURPRISE to me when I did it.

Here is what I remember about her:

*She was wearing one of those Nepalese yak-wool jackets with the bright rainbow-dyed yarn they sell at the Christmas market every year. Most such garments end up smelling strongly of b.o. and weed stank, grimy and unravelling, but hers was bright and well kept, and she wore it over a short black skirt and tights and managed to achieve a kind of insouciant charm with it so marked that it didn't occur to me for years after that she might have been wearing the jacket for pride reasons.

*She was trans and white and straight-sized.

*Her hair was a well-chosen blonde that would look plausible on her when freshly colored, which at that moment it was not; her hairstyle was a layered cut no longer than her shoulders and in need of a trim.

*The fashion of the time called for contouring and false lashes, but instead she was wearing simple-looking makeup that suited her: black mascara and a lip color somewhere between red and berry. I remember the red of the lip color did not match the cheerful Sno-Cone red of the rainbow jacket but was perfect for her complexion.

*Her black ankle boots had mid heels--the thick sturdy kind of heel good for walking a mile or two in the city if your back doesn't hate you yet. She would have been a bit taller than I am even in stocking feet; the heeled boots took the length of her legs past enviable into devastating.

*She wore a few sterling silver rings, but not so many it looked like dress-up, which is the mistake I always make with them. I coveted at least one of the rings, but I no longer recall their motifs. Her hands were fine-boned, the nails unpainted, knuckles a bit raw and chapped pink, in need of hand cream; I found them enchantingly beautiful.

*I stood behind her while she paid for her breakfast. I recall thinking the style of her pocketbook was cool. I don't remember now what it looked like.

*Her face wore that mildly unhappy cast people's faces have when they're going to work in the mornings and haven't quite finished the process of stuffing away enough of their real life's problems to appear together and professional. Just ever so slightly fragile.

I had no contact with anyone queer in the country. To my knowledge I'd met three trans people in my whole life. I'd dated a grand total of one woman. All my other previous relationships had been with men.

And none of that mattered, because I was in love. Just like that.

I don't know how I knew, but I knew, and the certainty was simple and clear and easy: I knew I wanted to ask her to dinner, and I knew I wanted to know her on whatever terms she was comfortable being known. I knew I wanted to give her footrubs and brush her hair and ask her about her day and memorize which of her coworkers were giving her grief.

And I didn't ask her out. Because I was late for work. Late enough that it didn't matter if I stopped to get breakfast at the Sainsburys Local, but also late enough that if I stopped to talk to someone I'd be written up again.

I am sure you will agree that this sucks on multiple levels. For one thing it sucks that I was not a person worthy of her, a person not in danger of being fired, a person capable of getting to work on time more than 1 day in 4, a person who could afford to be late long enough to chat her up.

For another thing it's a bit Pink Floyd's The Wall that I was so beaten down by life I was financially and psychologically compelled to crush part of my soul, and who knows, maybe a shot at real love and a beautiful future, in order to remain employed.

It haunts me that there are things that I don't even know I don't know about myself, and that I experienced something that can't be explained, and of course most of all that I will never know whether that feeling of serendipity was accurate.

But the thing that really gets up my nose about this event, the thing that makes me think that any god that exists must be an evil motherfucker, is this:

The once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to try for something precious and true and my inability to meet that opportunity were the same moment, brought about by the same set of circumstances. If I hadn't been so late to work I couldn't stop to talk to her, I wouldn't have been in the shop at the same time she was. I would never have seen her.

*Improbably, I was unaware at the time that I had anxiety.

[my-head-is-an-animal]

Problems With The Heart

Greg House x Dr Anna Harding (OFC)

Story Masterlist

Chapter 11 - 40 Candidates

House was enjoying the way Anna was playing her games with him, he managed to get his guitar back and made her laugh with his idea to interview forty people all at the same time, whittling them down to three to see who he could stand working with.

‘Cuddy will never let you get away with that.’ She laughed while they sat at the bar, doing shots.

‘What’s she going to do to stop me?’

‘Look, just make it quick, most of my staff can’t stand you as it is, we don’t need a horde of doctors following you around, getting in the way when you come and see me.’

‘Who says I’m going to go up two floors to see you?’ He frowned with a grin. ‘I’ve got a bum leg you know.’

‘Doesn’t stop you doing things for fun.’ Her eyes flashed at him as her gaze dropped to his mouth.

‘Have sex with me.’ He said.

‘Give me a reason to.’

House liked the game. ‘I’ve never needed a reason before.’

‘So, everyone gets to play games with everyone, but I don’t get to play games with you?’

‘What are the rules?’ He was getting curious about what she was doing.

‘The only ones you should concern yourself with are these: you give me a good reason to have sex with you and you don’t ask for help. I’ll know if you do.’

‘How?’

‘I know how your mouth works.’

‘So do a lot of women, but you don’t see them bragging.’ They threw back another shot. ‘Okay, fine, but if I win, I want the good stuff.’

‘Fine.’ She agreed and they drank to it.

House spent days coming up with a good reason, something that she wouldn’t be able to resist, he suspected she wouldn’t take just any reason, but the specificity might not have been her aim either.

The first day of interviews were exactly what he expected, boring, until the astronaut came in to liven things up. It eliminated most of the candidates and made his job easier.

While he was giving his speech and after Cuddy had told him he couldn’t interview people this way, the door at the back of the lecture hall opened.

‘Woah!’ House whistled, looking her up and down. Anna had told him she had some board members in looking at her department that morning so she needed to dress the part, black heels with a slimming black pant suit that just brushed her ankles, a light pink top that in the right light showed she was wearing a white lace bra, her make up was minimal, but her bright blue eyes were beautiful and her thick brown hair curled around her shoulders. It was one of the only times he’d seen her coat sleeves rolled down. ‘I didn’t order a supermodel.’

‘I know, you just went ahead and hired forty doctors for three positions.’ She raised her eyebrow as she descended the steps and House could feel his heart racing a little faster.

‘Hot British cardiologists anyone else’s thing?’ House addressed the whole hall, mostly to keep himself from stripping her naked and having her in the steps of the lecture hall.

‘Cuddy asked me to come and see if I could find any sense in what you’re doing.’ She ignored his comment, stepping closer to him so he could smell light perfume on her.

‘I’m interviewing potential candidates.’

Anna grinned a little. ‘Okay. How’s that going? You guys enjoying Dr House’s approach?’

The room was silent. House was at risk of losing himself to her. ‘Well, someone answer the woman, unless you’re a hallucination? Everyone else can see an outrageously hot doctor right?’

One of the candidates he was definitely firing, cleared his throat. ‘He’s not very agreeable.’

‘No, he’s not.’ Anna agree without looking at the candidate. ‘You’ll get used to that.’

‘I thought you found me very agreeable, Dr Harding.’

‘I find you tolerable on hospital grounds.’

‘And not on hospital grounds?’ House liked where this was going.

Anna closed her mouth, but her smile was evident. She turned around to head back out the hall. ‘I’m not covering for you,’ she said reaching the top. ‘Make a decision and do it quickly.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’ House sighed, hating that she was leaving.

Once she was gone the whole room looked at him.

‘Is she your girlfriend?’ The same candidate asked.

‘Yeah, she has a thing for cripples.’ House said, sarcastically. ‘You’re fired.’

House moved onto other things.

I went to House’s office for a consult. I found the two groups of candidates in his office and the second I walked in they all looked at me as if they had questions.

‘No.’ I said the second I walked in. ‘I am not helping you with anything.’

‘We just want to know what House wants from us.’ One of them said. ‘How do we win the game?’

I sighed heading over to his desk to check his notes on a previous case that might have helped mine. ‘Just cure the patient. House will make his decision based on his rules and you’ll never find out what they are no matter what you do.’

‘So this is all just random?’ Another one asked.

‘It’s never random.’ I said quietly, my snapping up. ‘I never said that. Just cure the patient.’

I quickly got what I needed and left his office, running into House immediately.

‘Sneaking around to steal my stuff?’ He asked, sarcastically. ‘Or are you on look out duty for Wilson again?’

‘Neither. I needed a consult.’ I said as we went back into his office. The candidates all began speaking at once. ‘Woah woah woah, if I haven’t slept with you, I don’t want to hear you speaking.’

I stayed silent, I wasn’t playing his game either. House just looked at me and breathed heavily.

‘Okay, only outrageously hot British chicks get to speak.’ He gave in. ‘Gimmie the file.’

I handed it over and after a two minute consult I had my answer. I went to take the file but he stopped me.

‘Hey, come over tonight.’ He said, his eyes flickering over my body.

‘Give me a reason.’ I flirted back. House smiled and let the file go. ‘Thank you for the consult.’

I waited for him in the lobby and he just had to make a show of flirting all the way out. I knew the candidates were watching and I just couldn’t seem to care when I saw the look he was giving me.

It was a long night and my body ached amazingly in the morning.

Somehow it still wasn’t enough to stop himself shoving a knife into a wall socket. One of his team had come up to tell me.

‘Is he stable?’ I asked, checking a patient’s heart rate.

‘Erm, yeah, he’s just unconscious.’ She said, I think her name was Amber. ‘He paged me before he did it.’

‘Okay, heart rate is a little high, but everything else looks good, I’ll be back to check on you in a little while.’ I told the patient who nodded.

‘Don’t you care that he tried to kill himself?’ She asked as I guided her out of the room.

I sighed. ‘He didn’t try to kill himself. I don’t know what the hell he was doing, but it wasn’t that.’

‘He stuck a knife into a wall socket.’

‘He paged you. He did it in the middle of a hospital.’ I shot back. ‘That means he wasn’t trying to kill himself.’ I told her. ‘I will visit when I don’t have patients to see. Do not get the wrong impression about the nature of my relationship with Dr House, people have made that mistake before and it didn’t end well.’

‘So, you don’t care?’

‘Of course I care, but he’s insane, he’s going to do insane things every once in a while.’ I took a file that was being handed to me. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I have patients.’

I wandered off to take care of another patient and allowed myself a few moments to absorb what House had done in the privacy of my office. Wilson had been texting me updates anyway.

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[potatoinalovelyhat]

Morning warm-up sketches for the last week.

I had the themes; 3/4 headshots, spiral folds, and simple fem fashion.

[I.D. - Picture 1 The picture is of 6 head shots, all drawn in a 3/4 view. The first image is of a soft featured man with gentle eyes and a gourd shaped head. He has short, loose hair and a symmetrical nose. The second image is of a woman with long wavy hair and a large, distinctive nose. She is painted in a limited blue color palette and has a mischievous look. The third image is of an androgynous person with a rounded, square head shape and short coily hair. They have large ears set low on their head and short eyebrows. The forth image features a woman with angry and angular, but child-like features. She has short, spiky blue hair and large eyes. The fifth image features a man with a very wide and long chin, thick eyebrows, and very short, neat hair. He has a cat-like smile. The sixth and final image shows a thin faced, snooty looking woman. She has a long upturned nose and heavy upper eyelids. Her hair is piled high into a beehive.

Picture 2 The picture is of 6 images of close up shots of fabric, meant to highlight the folds and layering of the fabric. The first image is of a pair of legs wearing loose brown socks. The second image is of a bent arm wearing 3/4 sleeves. The third image is of a closeup shot of a hanging curtain, with an extreme foreshortened angle. The forth image is of a pair of jeans. The fifth image is of a pair of hands twisting a towel, from an above angle. The sixth and final image is of an arm wearing a loose, thick sweater.

Picture 3 The picture is of six images of people of various genders and body types wearing simple feminine fashions. The first image is of a woman with an hourglass body type wearing a baseball cap with her long curly hair pulled through the back. She is wearing a white t-shirt with the word "BAP" written on it in pink lettering and high waisted yellow pants. She is wearing pinks sneakers. The second image is of a very skinny person with pencil body shape. They have a short, fluffy bob haircut. They are wearing a button up sweater and a plain a-line half circle skirt. With tights and simple heels. The third image is of a very muscular man wearing a turtle neck sweater and a pencil skirt with a ruffled bottom. His hair is styled into long beach waves that drap down his right side. He is wearing strappy shoes and is stepping towards the camera. The forth image is of an older, petite woman with her coily hair put back into a loose bun. She is wearing simple Mary Janes on her feet and is dressed in a long blue t-shirt dress. The fifth image is of a fat man with a red, straight, chin length bob cut. He is wearing a button up top with a simple pencil skirt. With basic blocky shoes. The sixth and final image is of a chubby woman with a short fro and sandles. She is wearing an ankle length, sleeveless slip dress with a v-neckline.

All of the images are pained in a loose, sketchy, watercolour artstyle. End I.D.]

[al-ladito-de-una-candela]

Claire couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear when Chishiya pronounced those words and so she took the lead till they were both out of the arena and back again on the street. Impatiently, she waited for the survivors to start the car and leave so she could turn to Chishiya with a mischievous smirk. “So... ready for another chase? First one to get to the mall gets to choose something for the other person to wear!”. 

Having said that, the gipsy sprinted right away. It felt great to enjoy fresh air again and the accelerated movement helped with the cooler temperature. The slapping sound of her flats against the pavement echoed through the streets of Tokyo. “You better keep up, guapo!”, Claire exclaimed but not looking behind. knowing he was following her. “Don’t surrender now”, and her giggles of joy and adrenaline let him find the way each time she made a turn. 

Claire landed at the shopping mall entrance and her chest bounced agitated. Her hair was as messy as his by now but she couldn’t care less. “In your defense, I think being wet made you heavier and slower”, she laughed and mocked him when he finally joined her at the ending line. 

Barely needing a few seconds to recover, the brunette was ready to go straight into the sports section. “So... payo clothes here”, she sighed, realizing it was a necessity to have a good pair of trainers and not the flats and flamenco heels  she was used to wear. She looked for her size and picked a pair with a light pink tone and what looked like red rose petals. It was the best she could hope for in a store like that but choosing shorts was another story. Claire started to pick each and every pair to lay them over her thighs, calculating the length they would reach. Realizing how short and tiny they actually wear, she looked at Chishiya with a questioning look in her face that meant ‘how do people cover themselves when excercising?”. She decided to go for a pair of long black leggings instead, hoping for the best.

“I want to try these on but not here. I know a place where we’ll find you something to wear”, Claire told him and leaded him to a more secluded corner of the mall where there was a store that sold dancer clothes as well as exotic garments that didn’t ressemble the fashion sense of the country. The woman felt like in Disney world, wasting no time in picking long to-the-ankle skirts and the delicate sleeveless tops she was used to wear. Then a pair of new flamenco heels and a few more dresses for the shows she had to provide. “I bet you never waited for a woman in a shopping mall”, she laughed scanning his face. “Here. These two are for you", she told him, handing him a satin red shirt and a pair of black trousers similar to suit ones. "You don't have to wear them now but you will have to later. I’ll be quick, don’t worry”.

The brunette got into the changing room and approved most of the items with the exception of two. One being the pair of leggings. They way they tightened around her dancer legs showing their tone and highlighting her butt made her remove them as fast as she put them on, hoping she’d never have to play another game to wear them. The other exception being a beautiful passion red dress made for flamenco dance that gave her the shape of a mermaid. Tight around her whole body with voluminous flounces at the bottom, close to her feet, designed to move and flow with each step. The cleavage was very pronounced as well making it even more sensual to the point that she considered discarding it, afraid of vulgarity. Perhaps if she was just able to finish the zip it had on the back, the dress would suit her differently. Considering her options, she finally decided to open the changing room door and reach for his help. 

“Chishiya, could you...?”, she gestured to the garment, turning around and removing her hair out of the nape to allow him to see the path of the zip and her bare back exposed. “Do you think this dress is a good idea?”, she asked, hesitant. 

@cheshire-shuntaro​

Premonition

Continuing from here

"Oh there you are!", Claire yelled at the window after Chishiya spoke his monologue but after a few seconds, his words actually got to the rational part of her brain and she realized that not only he had taken care of setting them together in a game but also he hadn't gone to the security cameras room to join Kuina. Ohterwise, he'd have seen his documents piled up on the desk.

The feminine hand that was reaching down to her flat stopped mid-way at the understanding. "Consider yourself lucky this time. But if you dare lock me up again, I won't throw a shoe at you. I will kick your ass."

---

The night came and with it the journey to the arena. Claire didn't know if it was a good sign that the military were not in the same car or if they arranged the easiest game for themselves and had left these poor people, including them, to risk it all at the hardest one. But she trusted that Chishiya knew what he was doing.

During the twenty minutes it took to get there by car, Claire sat next to Chishiya in silence. Her mind was begging her to keep screaming at him with insults and threats but her gut told her that she was externalizing her emotions like that because she couldn't actually follow through the fire in her belly. So the woman only threw some discreet glances at him when he wasn't directly watching her and as she breathed the same air as him, she wondered how it'd feel for the tip of her nose to brush that dimple on his cheek. How it'd feel to let go of every prohibition before they risked their lives.

--

All 20 players have entered the game. Registration complete. Game: Hopscotch. Difficulty: 6 of hearts.

Rules: Each player will team up with a partner so that there are 10 couples.

Each player will put on one of the headsets presented on the table.

One player from each couple will go to the fifth floor to place themselves on one of the square platforms. The other player will enter one of the booths on this floor. You will have 5 minutes for this task.

Once properly located, the player inside the booth will guide the partner on the platform to hop onto the different moving platforms, 10 in total, to reach the end of the path where the player will find a stone. Once the player picks up the stone, it's game clear for the couple.

If the player on the platform decides not to keep hoping till the end of the path, it's game over for the player in the booth and game clear only for them.

If the player in the booth misguides the player on the platform and they fall, it's game clear only for them.

Both players can win if the player on the platform reaches the stone before the time's up.

This time Claire fixed her eyes on Chishiya with a worried expression on her face. "Hearts? Really?", she asked him as if scolding him for what he did with the tickets. The woman took a headset to put it on. It covered her ears and her eyes like a pair of goggles, and it had a tiny microphone attached to it. "I do well with heights and physical things so... I guess I'll be the one hoping up there. You, on the other hand, take care of being locked up".

When the woman reached one of the platforms on the fifth floor, she was still wondering why the difficulty of the game was so high if she could clearly see the rest of the platforms. Each square seemed to reach her own for five seconds and then move away for another ten till it came back again. But after all the players were placed on the similar platforms nearby and the countdown popped on the end of the path like a colorful letter, she understood why. The floor underneath her suddenly parted in two halfs like the doors of a cage. And down there, the hungry eyes of a pack of lions. Then, her goggles were covered abruptly by black lenses, blinding her entirely.

She gasped out loud as her whole sense of orientation vanished and all she could feel was Chishiya's breathing in her ears. "Chishiya... can you still see? I can't see anything!", she let out agitated, her toes trying to grip the floor of the square where she was on, afraid of giving a wrong step and falling into the void.

@cheshire-shuntaro

[crowleywowley]

Skirting | Jim Hopper X Reader

Summary: you wear a short skirt around Hop and he enjoys it, to say the least.

Rating: 18+!!!!!!! Minors DNI! Srsly

Warnings/tags: very smutty, basically porn with plot, afab genitalia description, brief mention of food, fingering, p in v sex, I think that’s it??

A/N: I’ve been in a bad writing slump recently, like I’ve got 4 different wips but I hate them all soooo I churned out this bad boy for everyone’s hopeful enjoyment. It’s not my best work, it’s not beta’d, but I hope u can all enjoy hopper going feral for a skirt :’)

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Jim Hopper did not consider himself a man of fashion. If he wasn’t wearing his uniform, he rotated between a variety of flannel shirts and plain tank tops, save for his one “exciting” pink and green patterned button down that he saved for special occasions. That said, he most certainly was not a man of women’s fashion; he’d attempted to buy El clothes all of one time before realizing he knew nothing about what a teenage girl is supposed to wear. It wasn’t something he ever paid attention to- in the last several years when he was with a woman, he was more focused on getting her clothes off as quickly and efficiently as possible. That’s when you walked into the picture.

Upon moving to Hawkins, you quickly realized you were a bit more… in style, so to speak, than a lot of the ladies in town. You couldn’t blame them, it was a small town and trends took about five years to make it out there, and being from a larger city, you had more access to current styles. When you’d first moved there, you received several pointed stares from some women in your office who thought you showed too much leg or wore blouses that were too “over the top”. It didn’t bother you too much, however. You wore what made you feel comfortable and didn’t plan on changing that about yourself any time soon.

This confidence was what made you catch Jim’s eye. When you’d started going on dates, he liked how you were bold in what you did, be it with your opinions, your fashion, or whatever else. It drew him in to you, made him want to keep learning more and more.

So now, as you approached his car, he felt a jolt of heat straight up his spine. You looked amazing, to say the least; a black, long-sleeved shirt with loose arms was tucked carefully into a plaid skirt, your signature black tights (the ones the older women from the office thought were too gaudy for daytime wear) hugging your legs beneath it, and your feet tucked into sharp black heels. You looked beautiful, otherworldly- you always did in his eyes. And though he’d never considered himself a man that cared about what women wore, the length of your skirt and the consequent stirring low in his belly made him reconsider that sentiment.

He had to remind himself to get a grip as he got out of the car to open the door for you.

“You tryin’ to kill me before we even have dinner?” He said with a laugh, unable to help raking his eyes over you.

“Keep it together, Hop. I’m hungry.” You responded playfully before leaning across the seat and placing a kiss on his cheek. You muttered out an apology as you wiped the lipstick your smooch had left on his cheek.

The truth was: you knew you looked good. You’d spent more time than you were willing to admit getting your hair just the way you like it and took extra care applying yourself makeup. You’d been saving this new skirt for a special occasion, and decided a nice dinner with your favorite guy was as good a time as any. It was short- shorter than you usually went for, stopping around the middle of your thigh. But it hugged your curves like it was made for you, and you for it. And not only did you know you looked good in it, you knew it would drive Hopper crazy.

You had to admit, he held himself together extremely well throughout the dinner, considering the way you not-so-discreetly rubbed his ankle with your foot the whole time. It was fun teasing him and seeing how far you could push, and having (one too many glasses of) wine in your system only made you bolder.

His shell was beginning to crack though- you noticed as soon as he walked you to your door.

“Come in for a nightcap?” You’d asked him sweetly, leaning against your door. You reached a hand out to grab his and idly played with his fingers.

You knew his answer before he responded. “Can’t say no when you look at me like that,” he smiled down at you as you unlocked your door.

He settled himself into the small couch in your living room while you prepared him a drink. When you returned, you sat opposite of him, crossing your legs.

“Dinner was delicious,” you made conversation, letting the man sip and hum in agreement.

Hopper was doing his best to stay respectful. He kept his eyes trained clearly on your face in between sips of his drink. He definitely did not notice the way your skirt rode up when you crossed one leg over another, revealing even more of your clothed leg to him. Definitely not.

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a bit before you set your glass down on the coffee table in front of you. As you scooted closer to him on the couch, he did the same and opened an arm to you. Settling into his side, you draped your legs over his.

“You really do look amazing tonight,” he said quietly, cheeks pinking with a slight embarrassment at being vulnerable.

You angled your head up to smile at him. “I’m glad you think so, I tried,” you admitted with a laugh.

He ran his hand slowly up and down your outer thigh, gliding easily over the nylon. “You don’t have to try at all. I always think you look nice.”

You couldn’t hold back anymore. You placed your palm on the side of his head and drew him in for a long, pressing kiss. He returned the sentiment, pushing his mouth against yours with the slightest hint of urgency. His hand slipped to the crook of your knees and adjusted your bodies so you were beneath him, and your legs were slotted together.

A pleased hum escaped your mouth at this position change. Your hands dragged along his scalp and tangled in the back of his hair, attempting to pull him closer. While the sex was great, these sorts of kisses were undeniably your favorite. They were passionate yet tender, holding all the weight of what was to come. He kissed you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered; if you were to ask him, he would probably say you were the only thing that mattered.

He pulled away from your mouth to bury himself in the space between your neck and shoulder. He pressed languid, open-mouth kisses to your neck that made your cheeks burn.

“Been wanting to get my hands on you since you walked to my car,” he told you in between kisses, his hand coming to rest on your hip.

You giggled at this. “Yeah baby?” Was all you managed, already becoming impatient with your need for more more more. “Wanna move to my bed?”

He removed himself from your neck to smile devilishly at you, letting you know he felt the same. “Thought you’d never ask,” he stood, offering you a hand. You hoped he didn’t notice the way you had to steady yourself, feeling sober from the alcohol but positively drunk on him.

You led him to your bedroom, flicking on the dim beside lamp before laying down. You held his hands in yours and tugged, but he remained standing for a moment.

Faintly, you felt embarrassed under his gaze. “What are you doing?” You asked sheepishly.

“Just… lookin’ at you. Pretty thing.”

The simple words did a number on you. It made your heart flutter and you tugged on his hands once more, desperate for his mouth again. This time he obliged and returned to his previous position with your legs slotted within each other.

You continued kissing like you had been on the couch, though now there was a higher sense of urgency. Your breathing had picked up and the kisses had become sloppier, tongues tangled together. As you laid there, you felt a hand slip between the two of you and tug on your blouse.

Sitting up slightly, you pulled the shirt over your head, revealing a sheer, lacy white bra. The way his breath hitched was not lost on you.

“Can I take these off?” He asked, moving his hand to run it along your upper thigh.

Once you’d replied with a breathy yes, please, he moved so he was on up his knees between your legs. He reached up within the skirt and found the top of the tights, then began pulling them along with your panties down your legs.

“So soft,” he murmured when your legs were bare for him.

You lifted your hips for him to pull the skirt off, but he stopped you. “No, leave it on, you look so good in it.”

Once again you found yourself flushed, unable to form proper sentences.

He ducked towards your chest, placing soft kisses on the top of your breast that wasn’t covered by the cups. Resting on one elbow, he moved his free hand to trace up your inner thigh. He was moving infuriatingly slowly, and the irony of the situation was enough to make you laugh. You’d spent all night teasing him, riling him up, only for him to end up getting you embarrassingly wet from his kisses and gentle touches. Though as soon as you felt him brush his middle finger over your center, you didn’t particularly care anymore.

“Fuck, so wet for me already?” He asked, looking up at you.

“What can I say,” you half laughed, half huffed.

He chuckled quietly at how flustered you were before dragging his knuckle through your wetness once more. He repeated this a few times, coating his finger before slowly sliding it into you. You inhaled sharply, and he watched your face with intensity as he moved the digit in and out, in and out. The obscene noise it made only served to make him impossibly harder, his erection straining against his jeans. He added his ring finger, reveling in the way you shuddered and let out a soft moan.

After what felt like an eternity on your end, he removed his fingers gently and offered them to you. Your eyes closed as you sucked on them gently, tasting yourself. When you finished, he stepped off the bed and you propped up on your elbows to watch him.

“Gimme a strip tease,” you mostly joked, head lolling to the side with a grin.

“You wish.” The man responded, tossing his discarded shirt to the side.

You couldn’t help the way you clenched around nothing watching him undo his belt and step out of his jeans. This was far from the first time you’d seen him nude, but every time you did, you were reminded of just how big he is. Free from the confines of his briefs, his cock stood tall and aching, and it was enough to make you feel lightheaded.

He returned to the bed, this time positioning himself so you caged him with your legs. He pushed your skirt up for better access, the fact that it remained on at all making you feel extra naughty. Leaning up to press a decidedly tender kiss compared to the nature of the situation to your mouth, he slid himself into you with a breathy gasp.

You sat like this for a moment, allowing yourself to adjust to the size of him. You locked your eyes onto his and placed your hands on his thick biceps before nodding a go-ahead.

He moved slowly at first, drawing out each pump. “Fuck.” He’d uttered, feeling the way you were so incredibly warm and tight around him.

Once he began picking up the pace, you were unable to contain the borderline-pornographic noises escaping your mouth. He was hitting so deep within you you were seeing stars. You couldn’t help raking your nails along the sides of his shoulders and the top of his back.

“You knew what you were doing, didn’t you?” He panted out. “Wearing that little skirt all night, knowing I’d wanna fuck you the second I saw it.”

You whined in response to the filth spewing from his lips. You loved when Hopper started rambling during sex.

His pace picked up once more, and by now he was drilling into you. The pressure in your lower stomach was starting to build, but you willed yourself you hold off and draw this out as long as you could.

“You know you drive me fuckin’ crazy,” he muttered, a hand slipping under the small of your back to lift your hips more.

With the new angle, you pressed your head further into the pillows. “God-shit, Hop. Feels so good,” you rambled out.

Through his moans you heard a laugh. “I know it does baby. You feel, fuck, feel amazing,” he pressed his forehead to yours.

You moved a hand from his bicep down to your clit, circling it with enough pressure to make your eyes squeeze shut. When he noticed this, you felt his hips stutter and his pace falter.

“Touchin’ yourself for me, pretty girl?” He asked, pulling you even closer with the hand under your back.

“I’m so close baby,” your words come out rushed and breathy. In a different scenario you would’ve made fun of yourself for how corny you sounded, but you didn’t have it in you to care at this point.

He did his best to keep up his pace as he gently nudged your hand off of your clit and replaced it with his thumb. He circled gently, and you felt yourself flutter around him.

“That’s it, let go. I got you.” His tender assurances combined with the overwhelming sensation of his dick and hands were too much.

You came hard around him, a long, drawn out moan leaving your chest. Your back arched up and your vision went white, the only thing grounding you being your death grip on his bicep. He wasn’t far behind, giving you three solid, drawn pumps before finishing deep inside you. He was spewing more filth, though you couldn’t process anything he was saying with how hard you were reeling after your orgasm.

Once you’d both come down, still tangled in each other’s limbs, you laughed quietly.

“So I forgot to ask, did you like my new skirt?”

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Feedback/interactions are always appreciated<3

[writteninkat]

Switched | Itadori Yuji x reader x Sukuna

summary: fucking yuji means a passionate night until sukuna decides to be an asshole and switches with your boyfriend half way through sex.

F!reader

word count: 2.6k

warnings: 18+, name calling

author's note: i've been thinking of this since i last closed the app and i knew i just had to write it

You've been horny all night.

Your boyfriend, Itadori Yuji, is wearing a simple plain white dress shirt which he folded up right below his elbows. He has two buttons undone and the shirt is tucked in black dress pants, his long legs causing for his ankles to show right above the black boat shoes he has on his feet.

He finished the look with a white silver watch on his left wrsit. Honestly? You could feel your cunt already dripping just by the way your boyfriend looked while the two of you were still at the apartment.

As the group; Nobara, Gojo, Nanami and Yuji sang happy birthday for Megumi, you're busy rubbing your thighs together, proving for the action to be a bit more difficult than it actually is when you're seated.

Megumi blows his candles and everyone cheers, clapping their hands as they begin to dig into the food. You try distracting yourself, scooping in a few scoops of food on your plate but it is all for naught when Yuji leans over, giving you a chance to get a whiff of his cologne.

A strong strawberry scent with a little bit of sweet vanilla and a hint of bold wood. The scent doesn't smell like it goes everywhere at all- it all smells so good together. Yuji uses his chopsticks to place some strips of beef on your food, your gaze immediately on his forearm- veins feintly protruding from under his light skin. The silver around his wrist doesn't help at all and it makes you feel as if you are this horny teenager again.

"Eat up." Yuji smiles, his eyes smiling with him. You force your lips to stretch, sending him a big smile back before eating your food, deciding to forget all about your thoughts by stuffing food in your mouth.

It works.

Well, more or less. You haven't had a single dirty thought about your boyfriend ever since uou began eating, and now Nobara is currently singing her heart off as Gojo and the birthday boy himself are dozing side by side on the end of the couch. Nanami is busying himself by sipping on his drink, a smile feint on his lips as he watches and listens to Nobara sing, looking like how a proud father would.

Your boyfriend, on the other hand, doesn't look too good.

"You okay, babe?" You ask, leaning in to squeeze his forearm softly. He snaps out what seems to be in a caging gaze he was in, looking at you. Yuji smiles, hand fluing on yours to give it a good, reassuring squeeze. "I'm good, baby. Just a little tired, I guess."

You furrow your brows, definitely not buying his lies. "Just tell me. The faster you tell me the faster we can solve the problem." You say, crossing your arms over your chest.

Yuji's eyes slowly and uncontrollably begin traveling down your chest, gaze glossing over your evident cleavage, moving again even much lower, his eyes taking note of how the black dress you're wearing is hugging every curve on your body perfectly.

Yuji leans in, his strong cologne scent causing the butterflies in your stomsch to go insane. "That dress has been driving me crazy the whole night." Your boyfriend's hot breath fans over the shell of your ear, casuing goosebumps to rise all over your body. "Take it off for me, please?"

You breath in a deep and shaky breath, closing your eyes to try and convince yourself not to strip naked in front of your friends and teachers right here on the spot. You stand up abruptly, catching Nanami's attention.

"We gotta go, Yuji has a really bad stomach ache." The corners of your mouth pull down into a fake frown which Nanami buys, nodding his head and waving the both of you off. You take Yuji's hand and pull him out of the Kareoke room, your heels loud as you stomp your way out of the building and to the parking lot.

As you find your car, you pull the front seat's door open only for it to be closed shut again by your boufriend. Yuji pulls you closer by your waist, making you can feel how hard he is inside his pants.

"We're not doing it here."

"My car's windows are tinted." He bites on your ear.

You keep telling yourself not to do it, to just wait until the both of you gets home but Itadori jr. seems to be having other plans for tonight. You sigh, walking over to the back door and pulling it open. As soon as you bend over to get in, Yuji pushes you and slams the door behind him.

The cold winter nights of Japan has the interior of the car all cool and comfortable. Yuji spins you around by your waist, running both of his hands on either sides of your waist. He breathes out deeply, eyes scanning hungrily over your form. His hands begin to make their way down your thighs, he leans in to give you a soft peck on the lips. Yuji looks into your eyes at first before leaning back in to envelope you into a deep kiss, his tongue skillfully brushing and sliding against yours as he sucks on it softly. His breathing his ragged as he feels your body all over, your legs instinctively opening and moving up his hips. Yuji presses his hard member against your clothed cunt, grinding on it for some kind of friction before pulling away when he feels just how soaked you are down there.

He reaches a hand under your dress, pressing two fingers on your wet cunt making you mewl. You've been holding it in for too long and now you're just very sensitive. The corner of his mouth twitches up, "Have you been wet for me the entire night, baby?"

You don't trust your voice, you can't. You know it'll sound needier than you actually are, you know it'll set Yuji off to start teasing you, so you nod your head, your face contorting as you feel him slip a finger between your folds.

He leans forward, hot breath fanning over the sensitive skin on the side of your neck. Yuji's warm tongue runs up the skin once, twice- he's adding another digit into your wet hole and you almost cum at the spot when he nibbles on your soft skin.

"I'll take very good care of you tonight." He presses his soft lips on the nibbled part of the skin, slowly trailing kisses up to your cheek and finally back onto your lips.

You couldn't think straight- your head was full of the boy. You absolutely loved about him; his strawberry pink hair, when he smiles with his eyes, how he can never go through a day without cuddling you at least once, how he does his best to give you anything you want, how he's one of your biggest inspirations in life. This boy- no, this man is someone you can imagine waiting for you at the end of the isle, hot tears streaming down his face as he waits for you at the end of the path, looking at you as if you were the most beautiful woman he's ever laid eyes on- yes, even more beautiful than Jennifer Laurence.

Aoi would be right beside him, rubbing a hand on his back as he tries to soothe his best friend's sobs.

You snap out of your daze when you notice your boyfriend looking deeply into your eyes, a soft blush caressing his cheeks as he studies your face ever so lovingly. "I love you." You tell him.

His blush darkens as he leans into you, pressing his lips once again on yours. "I love you too." You feel the head of his cock press against your entrance for a bit before entering you completely.

You let out a soft whine, arching your back as your lips are trapped between your teeth. Your eyes roll back at the feeling of your boyfriend slowly pushing his entire length inside you, getting you feeling so full of him. "Yuji..." Your voice sounds so lewd, so needy and whiny for him that the sound of it makes you blush. You feel him stop moving once he's inside you fully, and at first you think he's letting you adjust to his size. That is, until he pulls his head back and your gaze falls onto the black lines all over his face. The soft look that once inherited your boyfriend's face is now replaced by a smug, cocky one. He has a smirk on that tells you to push him off and quickly get out of the car- but why don't you?

Instead, you feel yourself clenching around him even more. The look on his face has you dripping wet, your nipples hardening underneath your dress and the butterflied in your stomach going crazy as ever.

"Can't believe that little boy would keep you all to himself." His voice isn't Yuji's- no. It's much deeper, darker, more dangerous. He looks down at your apalled expression, his smirk growing even bigger. He leans over, pushing your legs up to your chest and forcing you down into a mating press. "What's my name, princess?"

You can feel your heart beating rapidly against your chest, your breathing shaky and your head clouded. Without even thinking about it, your mouth moves on their own and out comes your whimpering voice.

"Sukuna."

The curse pulls away with a wide grin, pulling his hips out before thrusting his cock inside you again, the tip of his cock hitting the same spot as it did before. Sukuna's hips are relentlessly thrusting inside you, abusing your needy hole as you moan loudly for more.

His hand finds its way to your boob and you feel something hot and wet lap itself over your hardened nipple. You look down to see the mouth on his hand grinning cockily like him. It wraps itself around your nipple, sucking on the bud and biting on it softly making your eyes rolls back to your head.

You feel something coil up inside your stomach, your mouth opening as you feel yourself slowly reach your high. "I-I'm so, fucking, clo-" Sukuna thrusts his hips hardly once, causing your toes to curl and your body to shake as you move your hips to ride out your orgasm. Heavy breaths fill the car as your legs grow limp on either side of his body and your eyelids become heavier.

"The fuck do you think you're doing?" Sukuna squeezes your cheeks, making your eyelids lift open. He hooks his arm around your back, pulling you along with him as he sits up.

Your eyes widen and back arches when you feel electricity run up your spine. Sukuna lifts a brow, his hands on either side of your hips, preventing you from lifting them. "Too full!" You whimper out, tears forming on the corners of your eyes as you swallow a large lump down your throat.

"Hah?" He tilts his head to the side, "But I haven't even came yet." You feel him roll his hips once, but it was all it took to have you digging your nails on his shoulders. "I'll pull out when I cum. But for now," He lowers his head to take your nipple by his mouth, his fingers pinching and playing with the other one. ",focus on making me feel good, princess."

Your eyes clench shut asbyou focus on the feeling of his hard member inside your dripping cunt. You move your hips once, you feel goosebumps all over your body. You move your hips a second time and you're wanting to feel that same friction again. You move your hips a third and you're letting your desires take over.

You hump on Sukuna's cock sloppily and roughly, the car is shaking. Sukuna let's out soft groans and moans, the constant "love feeling your cunt around my cock like this" whispered and growled into your ear. His eyes travel down to your chest, eyes gleaming when he sees your boobs bouncing in sync with everytime you hump on him.

When he looks back at you, all his other sense go numb. The sight of you with your tongue out your mouth, you drool dripping down your tongue, your face flushed and your eyes crossed together at the feeling of it being so good has him gripping on your hips tightly. "You're a fucking slut, aren't ya?" He begins thrusting himself inside you and you moan loudly, your toes curling at the feeling of his sac slapping against your skin. "Aren't ya?!" He yells and all you could do is whimper as you nod your head. He's fucking you so dumb you couldn't form coherent words.

He rolls his hips as he thrusts them, making sure you feel every single inch of him inside you. Your moans are in sync with his thrusts, feeling your breath being knocked out of your system with every thrust the curse does.

Your hand flies up your mouth, trying to surpress the loud moans that keep slipping out of your lips but Sukuna wraps his hand around your wrist, pulling your hand away.

"Scream for me, come on princess. Let him know who's fucking you so good right now." His voice is low and deep, it drives you to the edge, almost pushing you off. "Wh-who? Who's him?" You ask, forcing your eyes to open as you look down at Sukuna- your eyebrows raise in surprise at the sight of the black lines on your boyfriend's face gone.

Yuji looks up at you with eyes holding such lust. He has a straight expression on as he looks into your eyes, kind of hypnotising you as he thrusts into you, leading the both of you to your highs.

"Wh-what happened to Sukuna-"

"Why are you looking for him." Yuji's voice is covered in coldness. He combs his fingers on the back of your head and throughyour hair, curling them into a fist as he pulls on your hair. "He's not the one fucking you right now, I am." His thrusts start becoming more aggressive, hinting at you that he's already close.

"You'll cum around my cock a second time and you'll be moaning my name out as loud as you can. Got it?" Yuji growls onto your neck. His other hand grabs onto your hip and begins thrusting into you faster than before. You feel something snap inside you, your orgasm causing your toes to curl and your fingernails to be dug onto your boyfriend's skin. "Y-Yuji!" Your hips shake as you begin rolling them around, riding out your orgasm.

"That's not my name right now, princess." You look back down only to feel your heart drop at the sight of the black lines all over his face. "S-S-Sukuna! Sukuna!" You moan out, your chest rising and falling exceptionally. You hear him chuckle before feeling him pull out, shooting his hot seed all over your naked cunt.

You look back up, checking to see who's who right now. You smile when you see it's your boyfriend. You press your forehead on his shoulder as you try to calm yourself down. You feel his arms wrap themselves around you as the two of you bask in each other's presence.

"You gotta stop doing that, it fucks up with my brain." You mumble onto his chest which only leaves you with a lighthearted chuckle. "But Sukuna says he doesn't want to be left out."

"Whatever, Sukuna can go fuck off." You mumble sleepily.

"Why don't you fuck me yourself, princess?" A deeper and much darker voice speaks up and you curse yourself mentally.

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[oneprompt]

Hello again. Could you do 10 for the love prompt with Boa Hancock and a male reader?

authors note: hello ! <3 sorry for not being active the last few days ;;; i havent been feeling very good ... my apologies ! and why yes , i can :) please enjoy , i love writing for boa ;;

Boa Hancock x M! Reader , Standing On Your Tippy Toes To Kiss Your Lover

Boa’s stone cold poker face immediately twisted into one of love, eyes beating as if they were hearts. Oh, how happy she was to see you!

        “Y/n!” She beamed happily, gleaming with near childlike excitement. Boa was immediately blushing just looking at you. She cupped her cheeks and shyly shifted her gaze away. “H-Hello...”

You couldn’t help but laugh at your girlfriends reaction to just your presence alone. She was always so cute! You loved everything about Hancock, from how she could be a cool and composed ruler one moment and then squealing like a school girl over the smallest of things. She was far too lovely!

         “Hey!” You gave Boa a mellow smile, one that was full of all sorts of pleasant feelings. Kya! Why were you so unbelievably cute? You were as adorable as people got, truly. Even if people couldn’t exactly wrap their heads around Boa’s infatuation with you, and the fact she’s in love in general, she’ll never hesitate to love and praise you!

       “Would you care for some tea, darling? Or food? Or treasure?” Boa blabbered our in excitement, a grin filling out her blushing features. You gave Boa a simple nod, smiling up at her.

      “Tea sounds lovely.”

You took time to admire the way Boa has chosen to present herself today. The purple dress she wore was a beauty, decorated with jewelry. From necklaces to rings, she had it all on. Boa’s dress sunk all the way down to her ankles but still teased her long and slender legs.

Even with her dress so far downward, you could tell Boa was wearing heels today. Not that it was a bad thing, no! You just felt a little... embarrassed when she wore them.

Boa was already incredibly tall for a woman, towering at an entire 6’2. And adding the pumps she wore, that at least pushed her upward to 6’6...

The empress must’ve noticed you staring at her, a small frown on your face. Boa gasped loudly and slammed the packet of sugars downward.

       “Is- is something the matter!?”

You quickly shook your head, cheeks going pink. How childish you must’ve looked, looking at her in such a dumb way. You hoped you hadn’t made her uncomfortable…

      “Oh! Um-“ You squabbled for words, gazing up at the empress. Boa was far too beautiful for you to fathom, you could swear you turned to stone as you stood there, attempting to gather your thoughts.

      “I just wanted to kiss you..“ You admitted to your lover. You and Boa had kissed before, yes. Yet, every time you two did, you couldn’t help but be swallowed in your own embarrassment. Boa was always overdramatic with such things, shouting out how much she loved you, how she would take you as her husband. Not that you disliked that! It’s just, wouldn’t anyone get flustered by such blunt statements? 

Boa didn’t seem bothered as she immediately dropped the tea cup, scorching water and honey falling upon the table, It was weird how Boa didn’t even take note of the motion. 

      “I-i would love to, my sweet!” Her pink shaded lips crawled into a giddy smile, hands clasped together. Boa stood up straight, now awaiting a kiss from yours truly. 

Boa looked so unbelievably beautiful.. The way her silky black hair framed her angular face, plump lips puckered, slanted eyes shut calmly. Even doing such a simple thing, she looked as if she were a goddess. A big and beautiful goddess. 

Now, how would you go about this? You pondered. You two would usually kiss via her squatting down... But it didn't seem that way, no. Not today. You may be hurting your pride but a true man does anything for a woman!

You pushed yourself up, leaning off your heels and now supporting your weight with only your toes. You reached a hand outward, letting Boa lean her cheek into the flat surface of your palm. You didn’t hesitate to seal your lips together. 

Even as your toes ached from all the pressure, you were overwhelmed with a never ending warmth, an ever lasting love. The sensation of Boa’s lips moving with yours was enough to make your head spin.

The kiss didn’t last much longer, as you had to pull away in order to not trip and fall on your lover as your feet grew weak from being on your tippy toes for long. 

        “Oh, Y/n! Save such a kiss for our wedding night!” The empress cheered confidently, cupping her red cheeks as she giggled to herself. Kissing you was always the highlight of Boa’s day, even for the entire week!

You sighed, smiling gently at her. You merely nodded, “Of course i will,” You went along with her speaking of marriage. You watched as Boa’s eyes went wide, a gasp falling from her lips. 

 You soon let out a gasp of your own as Boa gave you a great big bear head, squealing excitedly. 

         “You’re too cute...kya~!”

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

orbit, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Ah, university. A time to get drunk, get laid, and (maybe) get an education. And Jeon Jungkook could do all those things. It was great. Until the moment he encounters an inescapable gravity, the kind of gravity that had already trapped all six of his friends... but left him out in orbit, circling alone.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, (too much) alcohol consumption, slow burn; smut (fem reader, dry humping, m-receiving oral, striptease, cock-warming, penetrative sex); non-idol!AU - university!AU; a LOT of buildup; longhaired!Jungkook likes getting his hair pulled a little too much; Jungkook’s POV Technically BTS x reader, but we’re focusing on JK. :)

--

“Hey, you’re Jeon Jungkook, aren’t you?”

“Uh… yeah. That’s me.”

The slim, pretty hand slid into her backpack and she held out an iPhone to him.

“You’re friends with Kim Taehyung, right?” Her voice seemed a little hoarse. She was wearing a dark gray t-shirt with a leather jacket over it. “He left his cell at my place.”

Jungkook took it from her, frowning. “Ah, he’s not usually that forgetful.”

She waved a hand. “It’s fine. I wanted someone trustworthy to give it back to him.”

That was their first conversation.

-

When Jeon Jungkook entered university, he knew it was going to be different from high school. Bigger classes, more work, and completely monotone teachers as he struggled to stay awake during mandatory studies like Physics. What adult in real life uses physics anyway (besides physicists, of course)? At least he went to the same university all his friends went to, either as undergrads or as graduate students. Being with his friends was awesome.

Being smashed with his friends was even better.

The first time he saw her, she was standing in the corner of the party. It was at someone’s house with way too many people in it and everyone only vaguely knew the host. He was celebrating the first complete week of university by getting absolutely plastered (as one does). He noticed her right away because she was wearing a thick black choker with a silver ring on it and an oversized band tee. She wore a gray flannel over it like a jacket. Chunky combat boots, very different from the other girls in their high heels. The sharpest black eyeliner he had ever seen, paired with a red-stained lip.

She was also taking shots.

Surrounded by guys, in some sort of contest. She was throwing them back and two guys were beside her at a table, absolutely fucked. Heads on the table, unable to touch their shots, looking green. She clinked her glass down triumphantly and slammed her hand on the table, curling the other towards her.

Jungkook watched as money was slapped on the table.

She grinned and gathered it towards her, pocketing it in her flannel’s chest pocket.

“Nice try, boys.”

Jungkook looked away, quite impressed. Then Park Jimin fell over at something Kim Taehyung said and Jungkook had to catch the smaller man. He was laughing way too hard that something only mildly funny, but everyone was laughing because they were losing it. The night went on. Someone had retrieved a beach ball from the backyard and was throwing it around the party, making a fucking mess. The beach ball bounced off of Min Yoongi’s red face. He looked incredibly disgruntled and Jung Hoseok lost it, rubbing Yoongi’s nose soothingly even though he wasn’t hurt. Kim Seokjin threw it back into the chaos by headbutting it.

And Kim Namjoon was nowhere to be found.

Jungkook frowned. Also, he needed to pee. He yelled around for the bathroom and someone pointed in some random direction. Jungkook followed it, his bladder ready to explode. Eh, if worse came to worse he could just find a random bush in the backyard or something. He opened random doors, but they either had more people or people in various stages of fucking. Then he saw the open bathroom door down the hallway and two people two feet away from the doorframe.

The two people being Kim Namjoon and the young woman he saw earlier.

Namjoon had his fingers curled around the silver ring on the choker, pulling down as he pressed her against the wall, making out with her exposed shoulder. His beige sweatshirt already had a red kiss print on the collar, paired with a purple hickey. Her palms were pressed flat, snickering as Namjoon rolled his hips into her ass.

Jungkook turned around and decided to find a fucking bush.

-

The second time he saw her, she was wearing an oversized beige sweatshirt, no pants, scratching the back of her head. Black ankle boots with black thigh-high stockings. He was at the dining hall, waiting in line. She sat at the of the tables, across Jung Hoseok. Even though it was the middle of the day, she still wore sharp black eyeliner and a dark red lip stain. She was nodding, one of her hands playing with Hoseok’s pastel tracksuit sleeve. Hoseok was blushing, looking a little sheepish. She just shook her head and said something. Hoseok’s cheeks grew redder and she leaned over.

And kissed him.

Jungkook blinked. The cashier snapped her fingers to get his attention.

“Oh! Sorry,” he apologized quickly.

When he looked back, the table as empty.

-

The third time he saw her, he was at the club. He was knee-deep in an argument with Kim Taehyung about how building Iceborn Gauntlet was a lot more useful on Ezreal than Triforce because it allowed you to get off more autoattacks with the slows and helped you survive with the extra armor. Plus, the twenty-percent cooldown! Taehyung was rolling his eyes and telling him building damage was much better.

“Then build Infinity Edge if all you care about is damage!” Jungkook roared.

Park Jimin’s eyes were glazing over. “Guys, can we stop talking about League of Legends? I have no idea what you’re saying anymore…”

She caught his eye because she was wearing a pastel track jacket with a black t-shirt dress under it. And because she was pressed against Kim Seokjin in a booth, making his ears red as he spoke to her. The same sharp winged liner and a wine-red lipstick. She hooked a bare leg over Seokjin’s jeans. The older man jumped, but didn’t push it away. The silver tipped toe of her black boots rubbed against his other leg as she smiled. Her hand was on his navy t-shirt, tracing the embroidered white flowers. She placed her lips against Seokjin’s ear and whispered something. Seokjin’s plump lips opened into a small ‘o’. Her pink tongue slid out from between her lips and she licked his earlobe. Seokjin turned his head sharply to face her.

And she kissed him.

“Hah, here, got you a beer.”

Taehyung clinked the beer bottle down, still pouting. “I still think you’re wrong, but for Jimin’s sake I’ll shut up about it.”

Jimin whined. “Thank God, because I was starting to fucking lose it.”

When Jungkook remembered to look back at the booth, Seokjin and her were no longer there.

-

The fourth time he saw her, Jungkook was pissed.

He had gone to bathroom and came back to no friends. The fuck? Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung had just fucking disappeared. Like, yes, Jungkook had to throw up to prevent himself from getting alcohol poisoning and had taken longer than he anticipated, but still. What month of university was this? Whatever, not late enough to get fucking abandoned. He could understand if one of them was trying to get laid, but they were not drunk enough to forget he existed without so much as a text.

Earlier, Jungkook had been dared to shotgun way too many beers in a row compared to the amount of money he won. He still won though, so that was lit.

Anyway!

He had to throw up because it was disgusting. And now he felt much better, except for the fact that his friends were fucking gone. Dumbasses.

This party house was much bigger, much louder, and much rowdier. Whoever owned this house was loaded and they had tons of alcohol. Jungkook even swore he had seen drugs, but his friends told him to be careful and not fuck around. Getting expelled wasn’t on Jungkook’s list of things to do anyway, so he didn’t even bother to look.

Instead, he went on a familiar routine of opening random ass doors to random ass people, either way too drunk to notice him or way too occupied with fucking to care about his existence. Whatever. Where the fuck were those two loons?

And then he opened the door Jimin and Taehyung were behind.

They didn’t see him. Jimin’s head was tipped back against the headboard of the king-sized bed, hands clasping the hair of a woman Jungkook was beginning to see way too often. She was wearing a navy t-shirt, and her head was between Jimin’s legs, her hands clutching his pink dress shirt and Taehyung railed her from behind, eyes closed, white t-shirt drenched with sweat. The rough movements made her shirt flutter. Jungkook spied the white, embroidered flowers amongst the navy folds.

Jungkook closed the door and decided it was time to go home. Fuck those guys.

Not literally.

Well, it was happening right now. Technically.

Jungkook sighed and marched back downstairs, trying to figure out how he was going to scrub his eyeballs to erase the image from his mind forever.

-

Jungkook liked to hang out at Min Yoongi’s apartment. Yoongi didn’t live in the dorms because he was older and a grad student. Jungkook often went there to study because Yoongi practiced piano and guitar all the time. It was nice to study to some background music. Yoongi usually didn’t care if he was there or not. He had opened the door in a dark gray t-shirt with a skull graphic, yawning. The shorter man looked even shorter in his baggy black sweatpants.

“Oh, it’s you,” Yoongi mumbled. “Come in.”

Jungkook made himself at home, taking out his papers and textbooks on Yoongi’s coffee table. Yoongi busied himself around the apartment, making himself a coffee before going back to his bedroom which was also a makeshift studio. Soon, Jungkook began to hear synth beats, samples, and Yoongi’s pensive noises he made when he was thinking. This was fine too. Yoongi also often mixed music or was in the middle of making his own. Jungkook missed the piano, but rapper Yoongi was just as cool as piano Yoongi.

Jungkook stayed there for a while. Yoongi bought him lamb skewers for dinner. Sweet.

Maybe he shouldn’t party so much. This was nice too.

-

And now, a week later, Jungkook was staring at the same dark grey t-shirt he had seen that night at Yoongi’s. He was sure it was the same one, because he could see the skull graphic on the center of the shirt underneath her leather jacket. He tilted his head and frowned. She nodded and turned around, walking away from him. She didn’t say anything more.

Jungkook stared at Taehyung’s iPhone and then at her retreating back.

The fuck?

-

So, he waited.

Clearly, she knew who he was, because she had said his full name when they talked. Jungkook was going to ask Taehyung when he returned the phone, but Taehyung had just shrugged.

“Just hanging out. Don’t worry about it.”

Yet it was the end of the semester and…

Nothing.

The next semester started and still.

Nothing.

Jungkook saw her all right, wearing a pink dress shirt over a white t-shirt as she walked to the library, black backpack slung over her shoulder. Not just there, but fucking everywhere, at all the parties, all the clubs, in the hallways, and on his way to class. Wearing the clothes of his friends like they were badges of her conquests. They had to be, otherwise why the fuck would she have them? And none of his friends said anything. Nothing! Obviously, every single one of them had hooked up with this woman and every single one of them acted like they hadn’t. Even Min Yoongi, who was too lazy to even go to most of the parties or outings. How she had managed to bang him was beyond Jungkook.

And the fact that she didn’t even try to hook up with him was beginning to infuriate him.

He knew he wasn’t ugly. Jungkook received enough compliments to assure himself of that (plus his mom always reminded him, thanks Mom). He had drunken sex just like everyone else. It wasn’t like he didn’t make himself available. He was in her vicinity. In her orbit. Always on the periphery.

And she did nothing to acknowledge his existence.

Why?

Jungkook didn’t get it. And he didn’t like it either.

-

“Newton’s law of orbital motion.”

Jungkook’s eyes were glazing over. His professor’s voice was the equivalence of white noise. Why was Physics split over two semesters? Ugh. Whatever. That wasn’t the problem right now.

The problem was, he was going to get laid by this mysterious woman and he was going to do it at this weekend’s party.

Yeah, well, that was as far as Jungkook got with that. How was he supposed to start the conversation? Yo, you fucked all my friends, what gives? What about me? He could try to pick her up normally, but his ability of picking up women was talking to the ones he knew were interested in him first. And she was evidently not that, because he was just a damn asteroid floating mindlessly in her space. Probably not even an asteroid. Just a fleck of space dust.

He groaned and slumped down on his notebook, copying the stupid equation with a grumble.

-

Yoongi had a hickey and Jungkook knew who it came from because she was wearing the same black-and-white long-sleeved shirt Yoongi was wearing yesterday. Yoongi yawned and shrugged his jacket over it, but Jungkook saw it immediately.

What the fuck?

Jungkook fumed into his beer, the plastic cup shaking. How? Why?

And Yoongi again?

She was in the kitchen, chatting with a guy, stretching her arms he placed a mojito in front of her. The action made her shirt ride up and the short, short black shorts became visible. The hem sunk into her soft thighs, just a tad too small. It made Jungkook’s mouth water.

She thanked him before wandering back into the crowd, holding her cup. Ponytail bouncing, high-fiving some guys. Yoongi was on his phone, texting. Hoseok and Jimin couldn’t make it because of dance practice and Namjoon was working on some sort of seminar paper. Taehyung and Seokjin had dragged Yoongi out – “Eh, I have to watch out for you idiots anyway,” was Yoongi’s grumble as he picked up his car keys – and Jungkook tagged along because he was bored. Taehyung and Seokjin were playing was very drunk Twister for some reason and Yoongi had declined – “You’re all idiots” – leaving him with Jungkook. Which was fine, because Yoongi had a comfortable energy about him. Jungkook liked being in silence with him. Yoongi wasn’t drinking because he was driving.

So Jungkook was spacing out, watching her move amongst the crowd. Her free hand absentmindedly flicked up the back of her long shirt – well, Yoongi’s shirt technically – and pulled out her phone. The curve of her ass was clearly visible against the white parts of the shirt. She looked at it and typed something, hands tucked into the sleeves.

Yoongi’s phone buzzed next to him.

Jungkook’s mouth thinned into a line. He snuck a glance at Yoongi who, completely expressionless, responded. She was peering at her cell again and smirking.

Was it possible to pop a vein just by standing there?

Jungkook finished his beer.

“I’ll be right back.”

Jungkook didn’t see Yoongi raising as eyebrow as he stalked off.

Was he overthinking this? Was it a conspiracy? His brow furrowed as he moved closer to her. She turned her head in his direction and her eyes widened.

And she bolted.

WHAT THE FUCK?

Jungkook ran after her, pushing through the crowd, but she was much faster and knew where she was going. Twenty seconds in and he had lost sight of her. He stood in the center of the packed patio, confused as shit. When he got back to Yoongi, Yoongi was listening to something with his headphones.

“Something happen?” Yoongi asked absentmindedly.

“Who’s the girl you fucked last night?”

Yoongi paused. He removed a headphone from his ear. He tucked his tongue in his cheek and looked up at Jungkook, who was putting on his best annoyed face. Yoongi’s eyes shifted from the crowd and then back to Jungkook. He shrugged.

“Does it matter?”

“Why is there a woman wearing your shirt?”

Yoongi frowned. “A shirt’s a shirt. Is it that weird for a girl to own a shirt I also bought from a store?”

Jungkook made a face. He narrowed his eyes as Yoongi gave him a confused look.

“She just ran from me…”

Yoongi shrugged again. “I mean, you look really angry. I’d run from you too if I was a stranger.” He went back to his phone, scratching his cheek with his free hand. “Maybe she thought you were someone else.”

Was he going crazy?

-

The, uh, fifty-seventh? Who cared, Jungkook had lost count now. Once again, he spied her from across the sidewalk, in the crowd of students, holding three folders stuffed full with papers and balancing a coffee and her black backpack. Red crop top with a leather jacket and tight black jeans. At least it didn’t look like she had stolen anyone’s clothes this time… unless that jacket was from someone… Or even the crop top, because it wasn’t like Jungkook knew what her sexuality was to be honest.

Anyway!

Jungkook stopped walking. Their paths were going to cross if she continued walking. She took a sip from her coffee, leaving a red lipstick mark. She scowled at something on her folders. A piece of paper. She clicked her tongue, lashes looking downward, the same winged liner as usual. The paper flapped in the wind and she pushed it against her chest, looking perturbed.

Jungkook cleared his throat. “Er, hello.”

She didn’t even look at him. She was chewing her lip, thinking. Jungkook had to stand in front of her for her to realize he was speaking to her.

“Oh.” She snapped out of her thoughts and stopped walking, tilting her head at him. “Um… Jeon Jungkook, right?”

He rubbed the back of his head. “Er, yes. That’s me.”

She nodded. “Kim Taehyung’s friend, right?”

And Park Jimin, Jung Hoseok, Kim Namjoon, Min Yoongi, and Kim Seokjin’s friend, he thought with annoyance.

She blinked at him.

“What do you want?”

To FUCK because obviously you fucked everyone else!

Jungkook didn’t say that. His id definitely wanted to say that, but his superego told him to shut the fuck up. So that left Jungkook scrambling to think of an answer.

“Ah… I just so happened to see you last weekend. At that big party in the white house.”

She blinked and nodded. “Uh… huh.”

She did not seem to remember that she ran from him. Okay, fine. Take two.

“The shirt you were wearing… it’s Yoongi-hyung’s, isn’t it? He asked if I could get it back,” Jungkook lied.

She frowned. “Min Yoongi? You know him too?”

“Yeah. He’s my close friend.”

Her eyebrows raised. “Huh. Alright, I’ll talk to him about it the next time I see him.”

Or fuck him, he thought bitterly. “You could just give it to me.”

She chuckled. “For one, I don’t have it with me. And, for two,” she continued, small smirk on her lips. “I’m not giving it back. Thus, Yoongi and I need to have a little discussion about that.” There was a dangerous glint in her eye. “But it’s sweet of you to try anyway. Gotta get to class now, so see you, Jeon Jungkook.”

She brushed past him.

Is it that weird for a girl to own a shirt I also bought from a store?

Jungkook narrowed his eyes. He spun around. She was already ten feet away. Students milled about, hurrying, hurrying. He didn’t have any classes after this.

He followed her.

-

He sat outside the lecture hall. It was an upper-level psychology class. He could see her from the small window in the door and fiddled with his phone. There were less than thirty students and everyone was listening intently to the animated professor. She was focused, writing notes and answering questions when asked. She looked… normal. Just a normal student with normal priorities. She didn’t look like someone who could take shots like a champ and fuck literally every single one of his friends.

Maybe Jungkook was the crazy one.

He frowned, staring at his phone. Why would Yoongi lie to him? Well, it wasn’t like he was obligated to tell Jungkook anything about his sex life. In fact, he was probably thrown off by Jungkook asking him straight out, because who the fuck does that? To top it all off, she didn’t actually have to fuck him if she didn’t want to. If for some reason she wasn’t attracted to him (possible, Jungkook thought), then why was he trying? That was just rude.

Jungkook spun his phone around in his hands. Then he got up and grabbed his bag. His eyes flickered to the door.

She was staring straight at him, one hand under her chin, smirk on her plump lips.

And she winked.

Jungkook froze. What? That was literally the only attention she had initiated with him during all his time at university. The class seemed to be on break, with students talking amongst themselves and the teacher sipping his coffee at his desk. She cocked her chin at him and then raised her phone, tapping the screen. He looked down at his, not even realizing he had a new message.

From Min Yoongi-hyung.

Why are you lying and involving me?

Jungkook jerked his head up, but she was facing the other way now.

He ran.

-

“Kind of weird that you don’t want to come to the party, but, okay, man,” Taehyung was saying. “You gotta do what you gotta do.”

Yeah, because if she was there, Jungkook could not look her in the face. He also couldn’t look Yoongi in the face either. Not that Yoongi ever brought it up again or even sent another text after that. Jungkook hadn’t even responded to it. He ran a hand through his long hair, staring in the mirror as Taehyung chatted with him.

“Alright, I’m off. Let me know if you decide to show up.”

Jungkook sat in his dorm, shirtless. He didn’t have a roommate – he had one of the few single rooms to himself. He didn’t really want a roommate and none of his friends lived on campus anyway. He liked his own space. Plus, it made fucking someone a lot less awkward if he was living alone. He fell back against the bed. He didn’t actually have a paper to write. He had written it earlier and it was good enough. He just…

Didn’t want to make a fucking fool of himself again.

Jungkook rubbed his forehead. This whole situation wasn’t even a situation. It was him in his head dreaming up stupid shit. It didn’t actually matter. It was only filling his head with confusing thoughts and indecision.

But still… why?

He placed his right forearm over his eyes. The black script tattoo was healing and he was planning to add more soon. He sighed, thinking. He worked out. Had a (more than) decent face. Got pretty good grades (for someone who didn’t try very hard). So, why? Did she really not consider it, not even once? They were around the same people, the same crowd, and never? Not even in a drunken stupor? Jungkook clicked his tongue. Did she have a type? It didn’t seem like it; everyone in his friend group was very different, looks-wise and personality-wise. She was attractive, of course. You couldn’t sleep with that many people and not be hot. Juicy thighs, perky ass, nice shape to her tits. A playful face with a smile that made you fall in love. Dimples on both cheeks when she laughed really hard. Ugh. So cute. Lovely-shaped lips that reminded Jungkook of Jimin’s.

Okay, that last thought was a little weird.

Anyway!

Jungkook sighed again. He sat up, intending to get on his computer and play something. Maybe Overwatch or League. He looked down at his gray sweatpants. Oh.

Well, maybe he should jack off first.

Before he could decide however, there was a knock on the door. The RA? He got up, shaking his sweatpants. Hopefully the bagginess would mask it. Plus, talking with the RA wasn’t sexy, so he was pretty sure his dick would pass out by then anyway.

Jungkook opened the door.

She smirked at him.

Jungkook closed the door.

She shoved her black boot in the opening, preventing him.

“No, you don’t, Jeon Jungkook.”

He backed up, shell-shocked. She pushed the door open and walked into his room. Hair over her shoulders, the same winged eyeliner and red lip stain. The black collar with the silver ring, the same one she had worn the first time he saw her. Pink dress shirt, the one she grabbed as Jimin face-fucked her. White t-shirt underneath, the one Taehyung had worn as he fucked her from behind. Both too big for her, so she wore no pants. Just thigh-high white socks and her thick-soled black boots with the silver tips, the ones she wore when she sat in the booth with Seokjin.

In short, Jungkook’s dick snapped to attention like a scared newbie army recruit.

She tucked her tongue in her cheek and raised her eyebrows at him. Jungkook seemed to come back to reality and slapped his arms across his chest. He was shirtless, after all.

“H-how did you figure out what dorm I was in?” he sputtered. “And w-what room?”

She tilted her head. “Friend of a friend, of a friend, of a friend, of a friend… of a friend,” she said slowly, tongue poking out a little from between her lips when she paused. “I know some people.”

Jungkook blinked rapidly. “W-well, why are you here?”

She kicked his door casually behind her. It slammed shut, making him jump.

“Because,” she drawled, holding up her hand, lowering a finger as she made each point. “One, you decided to speak to me, only to lie to my face. Two.” Another finger went down. “You stalked me outside my Psychology of Anger class. Three.” Down it went. “When you realized you got found out, you ran away. Four.” Down. “Every time you see me walking around campus, I see you throwing yourself in the opposite direction as if you’re being attacked. Yeah, I notice, because you’re not subtle about it,” she added, chuckling. Jungkook felt his ears turn red. “And finally, five.” Her hand was a fist now. “Before that, you gawked at me every time I happened to be within eyesight of you. With your big round eyes, almost as if you were spacing out. Sometimes with your mouth open.” She twisted her lips to one side for half a second. “Kind of disorienting, really.”

Jungkook thought back to all those moments. Her eyes on him when he saw Namjoon press her against the wall. Her eyes flickering towards him when she was at the table with Hoseok. The shift when she was kissing Seokjin at the booth. Oh, God. The half-second before he closed the door, her eye on him as she sucked Jimin off. The light on her face as she was reading Yoongi’s text on her phone, her pupils on him. She knew. She knew, she knew, she fucking knew.

Jungkook’s lips parted. “Then why… why did you run?”

She raised her eyebrow. Then she nodded her head slowly, finally understanding. “Ah. Yes, that time at the party. I thought you were some kind of weird stalker, honestly. I really don’t have time to spend on creeps.”

A shameful shiver slid down his back. She thought he was a creep. Of course, she did, because literally everything he witnessed was sexual in nature and he was fucking ogling the entire time, holy fuck.

She cleared her throat. “Anyway, the rest of the guys straightened me out.”

Rest of the guys? What? THEY ALL KNEW TOO?

“You just want to fuck.”

God, Jungkook thought. If there is a God, please just open the Earth and throw me in Hell right now.

“I-I don’t–what–that’s preposterous–how would you even know–”

Jungkook was tripping over every word as she stood there, tapping her foot against the ground. He lost track of his thought and made a strange noise of defeat. Her lips curved into a slow smile.

“Well, technically, I didn’t know,” she said slowly. “I guessed and it looks like I guessed right.”

Oh.

Oh shit.

Oh holyfuckingshitcrap.

If Taehyung or Jimin were witnessing this right now, they would have face-palmed.

She licked her lips. It made Jungkook’s stomach flutter uncomfortably.

“Anyway, I figured it would be better for you to be alone when I told you this.” She shrugged. One shoulder of the pink dress shirt fluttered down, revealing a shoulder. “It seemed like it might have been embarrassing for you, and judging by your beet-red face and tomato ears, I am correct.”

Jungkook slapped his hands on his cheeks. “W-what, of course not, hahaha…”

“You got a tent in your pants, kid.”

He looked down and tore his hands from his face to place them over his crotch. “Erm.”

She chuckled and shrugged again. “Well, since that’s the case, I’ll leave you be then. Just didn’t want things to be weird between us, that’s all. And found out you aren’t a creep. Only a shy, awkward boy.”

Then she turned around and reached for the door handle.

Jungkook crossed the space between them within two steps and slammed a hand on the door, preventing her from opening it.

“Wait.”

He was staring at the back of her head. Her hair had a warm, herbal scent. He could see the slope of the pink dress shirt, outlining her shoulder blades under the thin white t-shirt. He was so close that he could even spy he straps of her pink bra underneath the white fabric. Looked even further and he spotted the point that the dress shirt stuck out a bit from the curve of her ass.

“I’m not… a boy,” he said slowly. His voice came out lower than he thought.

He heard her make a light scoff.

“You expect answers without asking the questions,” she replied, still not turning around. “Not everything will be handed to you just because you’re cute.”

Pause.

“Boy.”

Jungkook knew how she managed to sleep with all of them now. She pressed every single one of his buttons, perfectly, within a single conversation. He placed his other hand on the door, fingers spread out. Took a step forward and pressed his body against hers, relishing in the softness. One of his hands slid down and snaked between the space of the door and her face, cupping her chin. He pushed it up so her eyes met his. Her teasing, perfect eyes.

“Wanna fuck, then?” he breathed against her forehead.

Her lips curved into a slow, foxlike smile. For a half-second, Jungkook thought she would say no.

“Now we’re talking.”

Jungkook had experience. He knew what women liked. But he did not know what this woman liked, because this woman was the embodiment of a fucking enigma. And at this point he was quite sure she had him mostly figured out. For instance, she pressed back against him, ass perched right on his cock, making him gasp. Her hand came up and she slid his fingers up her chin, opening her mouth slowly. He stared, transfixed. Her pink tongue slid out and she pushed two of his fingers in her mouth, wrapping her warm, wet tongue around them.

Sucking on them. Slipping her tongue around his fingers, single eyebrow lifted as she drenched them with saliva, so wet that his cock twitched at the thought of being in that hole. She placed her lips around them and used her tongue to push them to the roof of her mouth, sinking down to his knuckles.

Jungkook really couldn’t breathe, watching his dirty display of power.

Her hand was still wrapped around his. Slowly, she pulled his fingers out of her mouth, strings of saliva snapping as his fingers trailed out with a small pop. Jungkook shivered. The pink dress shirt was sliding down her arms, onto the floor.

She straightened her head and turned around slowly. She kicked the shirt aside, looking up at him through his lashes. His heart was beating so fast that he thought it was going to beat out of his chest.

“Why… why do you take their clothes?” Jungkook whispered.

She grinned. She looked down at his bare chest. Reached out, fingertips dancing in the air. Her nails slowly made their way up the ladder of his abs, eyes finding his once again.

“I like to remember who did a good job fucking me,” she replied steadily, so calm and cool that it was ruining him, driving him insane. “Let’s see if you’re so lucky.”

She flattened her palm against his toned pecs and let it slide up. Jungkook couldn’t look away from her face. She snaked her arm around his neck, fingers tangling in his long hair. She pulled his head back roughly.

He whimpered.

Help.

She got on her tiptoes; lips so close. Her other arm came around his waist. She rolled her hips into his. Delicious, sweet friction. Held him there as she dry-humped him, agonizingly slowly, breathing against his shaking lips. The only thing holding him up was his one hand against the door.

“You like that, little one?”

Jungkook wasn’t little. She was saying it to provoke him and it was working even though he didn’t want it to. He tried not to gasp or make any indication that he was enjoying it, but his hips were already moving, pushing back, frantic for more. Her tongue slithered out and brushed against his lips. He moaned. Had he ever been more desperate for a kiss? More desperate for anything more than just simple dry-humping at his fucking dorm door? Her grip on his hair tightened, pulling a little harder.

“What if I leave you here?” she taunted, digging her nails into his side. “What if I let go and leave you here, needy and lonely, without me to take care of you?”

What was going on? This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. This wasn’t how he was supposed to end up. Why couldn’t he collect himself?

“Please don’t…” he whined. His hand on the door balled into a fist. “Please.”

She kissed him.

Oh, fuck.

Lips so soft, barely any pressure, tongue on his lips. Poking, teasing him. Jungkook moaned, mouth opening and the tip barely thrust in. His whole body shivered as she slid it in and out between his lips. There wasn’t enough. Wasn’t enough pressure, not enough tongue, not enough forcefulness. He whined, jerking his hips into hers, trying to suck her tongue into his mouth, but it slipped away every time. Then her lips pressed fully against his and she mouthed the words on his lips. He knew what she said even before the sound touched his ears.

“Want more, little one?”

Yes. Oh, please, yes.

But he couldn’t say it because his lips were trapped against hers. She softly kissed him, over and over, hardly deep enough or passionate enough for his liking, infuriatingly not adequate and all of it on purpose. She pushed him into the room, away from the door, making him stumble. Jungkook could only break apart for half a second to choke out one word – “shoes” – but she was already removing her arm from his waist, zipping down her boot and kicking it aside, and then the other, pushing his head down to hers the entire time so she could make out with him.

Then, she pushed them apart.

He nearly tripped, forced to take several steps back. He was panting, out of breath as if he had been running for a long time. Jungkook lifted his head to her crafty expression. He could be the dominant one. He knew he could. But she wasn’t letting him. She had him in the palm of her hand, even now, even in this slight second of breath, the single moment of sanity, and then it was gone because she was lifting her shirt, the white t-shirt crumpling and thrown aside, landing on his desk, on his laptop. The pink, polka-dotted bra molded to her sinful breasts, so innocent-looking. They matched the tiny pink polka-dotted panties that pressed into her skin, complimenting her white thigh-high stockings that clamped around the softness.

His brain?

Broken. It was frozen at this image of this hot-as-fuck woman dropping to her knees and crawling on her hands towards him. Each movement a little closer, a lion stalking her prey and he was the frozen antelope, unable to run. She stopped right in front of him, straightening. And then, the smallest detail, spreading her thighs so he could see the faint wet spot between her panties. He could see her cleavage, the curve of her breasts as she trailed her hands up her thighs, her stomach, bending around her breasts, up her neck, tracing the silver ring and black leather of her choker, mouth opening to her wet tongue, a single fingertip touching the end.

“Wanna be in here, little one?” she murmured around her finger, eyes half-lidded.

“Fuck yes.”

If Jungkook could gather his last two brain cells, he would have sounded a whole lot less desperate, but at the moment those two brain cells had abandoned their post, leaving him an absolute mess as she hooked her fingers on the waistband of his sweatpants and underwear and dragged them down, down, exposing his leaking cock out in the open. Fuck, she looked so smug and he couldn’t do anything about it as she leaned in with a soft kitten lick, wiping it away.

“Let me ask you something before I start,” she purred.

Jungkook blinked. “O-okay…”

“Were you upset that I fucked all your friends and never, ever asked you?”

His eyes widened.

She smirked and wrapped her lips around his cock. His brain cells came back from their lunch break to Jungkook screwing his eyes shut and throwing his head back as she bobbed her head up and down his cock, deep, slow, wet. Tongue rubbing all around him, hands gripping his hips. He didn’t know what to do with his hands because he didn’t want to mess with her pace so he curled them into fists, sinking his nails into his palms as he moaned, feeling the head smack the back of her throat, muscles squeezing him hard and tight. Because she had been so soft and teasing less than ten seconds ago, Jungkook was not prepared for this wild intensity. She was literally deep-throating his cock like nobody’s business and he was trying very, very hard not to bust his load within seconds because that would be fucking embarrassing as shit. He forced his eyes open to look down at her, panting.

“S-stop…” he pleaded, but she wasn’t stopping. “P-please, stop, I want to f-fuck you.”

The slightest tick of her eyebrow. She stared up at him. It was too sexy. He chomped down on his tongue, anything to feel something else than the overwhelming pleasure from being in her mouth.

“P-please… want to fuck your p-pussy…”

She slowed, still making eye contact with him. She didn’t completely stop until she was all the way down his cock, saliva dripping out and down his balls. She didn’t get off him. Just watched him, pulsing her throat around his dick. Jungkook got it. She wanted him to beg. Her throat squeezed him extra hard and he whimpered. He bit his lower lip.

Pride? What pride?

“Please…” Oh, God, was that him? That wretched, pitiful whine, so wrecked and barely anything happened. “Please, let me fuck your pussy. Let me inside you. Let me pleasure you.” She blinked slowly. Not enough. “You made me wait so long…” His eyes raked over her sensual body, his skin burning. “You fucked them all and made me wait, made me want you, made me think about you all the time, made me crazy knowing everyone had you, but me.”

What even was this? He had never begged like this in his entire life, but he was ruined and destroyed by this beautiful woman whose red lips were around his cock.

“I want you to use my cock and make you cum, just for me. Want you to watch me when I fuck you, want you to moan for me, want you to say my name with those lips.”

Her eyes sparkled. She drew back, slowly. His cock achingly, deliberately popped out of her tight, wet mouth and he cried out softly, almost regretful that he didn’t ask for her to finish him then. She got off her knees, sliding up his body, his cock hitting her stomach and then her thigh, smearing saliva and pre-cum on her smooth skin. She pursed her lips against his, the tiniest peck, and he could taste himself, a slight hint of his own cum.

“Alright, Jungkook,” she said slowly, reaching into her bra and pulling out a condom. Of course, she had a condom in her bra. “I’ll let you fuck me.”

She smacked the warm foil packet against his chest.

Fuck, the way she said his name. So velvety, so wanton. She moved past him and Jungkook turned around, condom in hand, watching as she faced him, unhooking her pink bra. It peeled off her body and dropped to the floor, tits bouncing. She pressed her hard nipples in between two fingers and tugged, giving him a little gasp and a peek of her pink tongue from between her plump lips. He followed, swallowing hard as she backed up to his bed, hopping up and sliding back. Jungkook made it to the end of his bed and watched as she linked two fingers on the sides of her panties and pushed them down, lifting her legs up and together as she slid them off.

Thus, providing Jungkook with a shockingly clear view of her glistening pussy lips.

She lowered her legs and spread them. Wearing nothing but those white thigh-high socks and the black choker around her neck.

“Holy fuck.”

She smirked. “Come here, little one.”

At this point, he was beginning to enjoy this nickname. Either that or Jungkook was so horny that she could call him anything and he was still going to climb onto the bed, chewing on his lip, hand over hand, breath hitching as he neared, smelling her arousal. His eyes flickered to hers. She tilted her head and nodded. He bent down and licked her slit, long and slow, groaning as her sweet, thick taste coated his tongue. Oh, if only he had more patience to eat her out. Instead, his cock was dripping an embarrassing amount of pre-cum onto his sheets, so he got to his knees, unwrapping the condom and sliding it on, somewhat grateful for it so that he wouldn’t explode within two seconds of being inside her. He positioned himself at her entrance, lifting her legs.

“Hey, Jungkook.”

He shifted his attention to her face. He felt her hand reach down and guide him to the correct angle.

“Look at me when you go in,” she said, smirking.

His eyes widened as he pushed inward, slow, centimeter by centimeter, feeling her warmth cover him and shake him to his core, her eyes boring into his, satisfaction glittering in those orbs as he gasped at her tightness, her wetness, her heat. Breathing so shallow Jungkook felt like he was ready to pass out, thrusting the last of his cock inside her so he was fully buried, his entire length squeezed by her pussy.

She lifted herself up and wrapped her arms around his neck, fingers in his long dark hair. She pulled lightly and he moaned, lips trembling.

“You like that, little one?” she murmured, lips against his cheek, licking him lightly. “You like your hair pulled?” She kissed his chiseled jaw, clenching around his cock.

“Y-yes,” he whimpered. “A l-little…”

Her tongue wrapped around his earlobe, playing with his earrings. He could feel her hard nipples rub against his chest as she pressed her body against him. She pulled again and he moaned into her ear, shuddering as she paired the pain with the pulse of her pussy.

“I like the sounds you make,” she whispered. “Let me mark you, little one.”

He swallowed, still unable to move because he was in her gravity now, lost in her smokey voice.

“Yes, please…”

She kissed down his ear softly, lips against the pulse point under his ear. She bit his skin, sucking hard, rolling her hips onto his cock. His eyelids fluttered as she bit him, hard and unforgiving. Sharp, wet sounds. He whimpered and she ran her tongue over the bruised skin before kissing down further, finding the spot where his neck and shoulder connected. She pressed her lips against it and he swallowed in anticipation.

“Jungkook.”

“Y-yeah?”

He could feel her lips form the words she was spoke into his skin.

“Your cock feels nice inside me.”

She bit him again, hard. His eyes rolled back into his head, cock swelling at the compliment and the pain radiating through him as she pulled on his hair, sucking his skin, rutting her wet, tight pussy onto his cock. The euphoric ecstasy was unlike anything Jungkook had ever felt before. It was just a hickey and some hair pulling while he was cock-deep into a woman, but it was so much more, the soft kitten licks as she soothed the irritated flesh, the rubbing of his scalp, and the throbbing around his cock.

She finally let him go, leaning back. Her hair fanned out on his pillows, lipstick smeared, tongue between her teeth. He really thought the first time was going to be at some shitty party where he was half-drunk and confused, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t like that at all. Instead, she cocked her chin at him, giving him an open-mouthed smirk as she looked up at him from his bed.

“Fuck me, Jungkook.”

He began to move, starting slow and deep, gasping at the feeling. Her eyes drifted from his face to his cock moving in and out of her, then back up to his face. She was letting him do as he wanted, he knew. Jungkook could tell from her expression, giving him the reins for once. He scooted up, still fucking her leisurely as he lifted his hands and touched her nipples with his fingertips. He pushed them in a circle, rubbing them, closing his eyes. They were hard but soft, so fun to touch as he thrust his cock inside her. He pinched them and he whimpered as her pussy squeezed him. He did it again and felt it again. He cupped her breasts and did it again, pulling a little his time. She made a breathless moan and he opened his eyes, seeing hers shrouded with lust. He held her nipple between his index and ring finger, using his middle finger to rub the hardened nub. She gasped softly, whispering his name.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” Jungkook panted, feeling his hips thrust harder, spurred on by her noises. She pressed her head against his pillows, crying out as he increased his pace, rubbing her nipples harder.

“Harder, little one,” she purred, rolling her hips into his. “Want to feel your cock in the deepest parts of me.”

He pinched her nipples, hard, and she moaned with a teasing smile as he let go, placing his hands back on the bed for leverage. His long hair brushed into his eyes but he didn’t care, ramming his hips into her, hearing the harsh, loud slap of their bodies. She hissed out his name, tipping her head back as she lifted her arms above her head, clutching his pillows.

“That’s it, Jungkook,” she panted as he pounded her into his bed, feeling her pussy tighten and throb around him. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.”

He did, hard, rough, gasping at her pretty lips opened and her eyes closed in bliss, enjoying his cock, just his, enjoying the way he felt, enjoying his hips slapping into hers and his cock twitching inside her.

“Need you to cum for me,” he growled, surprised at his own rawness. “Need you to cum all over my cock. Need to feel you.” A hint of desperation juxtaposed with his order. He wanted her to fall apart with his cock, wanted to watch her unravel as she came with his cock.

She cracked her eyes open and wrapped her legs around his waist, thighs squeezing him. Oh, fuck. Eyes that said, go for it. Do it if you can.

He rammed his hips into her, pounding into her over and over, so hard the bed squealed at the force, so deep her fingers gripping his sheets were white, her moans filling his room, imprinting in his memory.

“A-ah, Jungkooooook.”

His name dragged out, mixed with a moan, cock twitching at her back arching, tits bouncing with his thrusts.

“So good, so good… Gonna cum for you, just for you, Jungkook...”

And then he felt it, the heated, throbbing squeeze and the instant squelch of liquid dripping out and sliding down his balls, soaking into his sheets. The scent of her sex so heavy and sweet that he was drunk, slowing so he could feel her pussy pulsating around him, vibrating his entire length.

“W-why do you feel so good?” he whined, shoving his cock so deep she jerked up his pillows. She chuckled, but he kept going, back to his rough pace, because he couldn’t wait anymore. He needed to cum. He needed it now, deep inside her pussy, her scent on his skin, her foxy eyes on him.

“You wanna cum for me, little one?” she panted out, licking her lips. “Want to feel your cock get milked by my pussy?”

Jungkook sucked in a breath, clenching his jaw as he nodded fiercely, unable to respond. She reached up and he knew what was coming and he wanted it, wanted it so fucking bad. His long hair was smacking him in the face but she collected it back, only leaving a few strands on his sweaty forehead.

“Cum for me, Jungkook. Fill me up.”

And then she yanked on his hair, hard, tearing a gasp from his lips. The pain shot through him, igniting every nerve, the pleasure of her pussy clenching him as he kept going, slapping his hips into hers, feeling the pull on his hair every time he sank in. Jungkook was doing it to himself now and he loved every second of it. The familiar tightening coiled inside him, so sharp and sudden that he almost screamed as he came, the orgasm racking his entire body as she pulled his head back with his hair, moaning with him as she came again, throbbing as he shot into the condom, cock jerking with force against her walls.

His whole body shuddered as the aftershocks faded. Oh, shit. He was winded, throat dry. Someone must have heard. Holy fuck. Jungkook had never cum so hard in his entire life.

Her hand let go of his hair. She rubbed his scalp. He closed his eyes, his body rising and falling as he exhaled.

“Did I live up to your expectations, little one?”

-

The next day, Jungkook ran into Taehyung at the usual coffee spot. It was the weekend, so Jungkook hadn’t expected to see him. Taehyung looked super hungover and barely alive as he ordered a coffee in his raspy, deep voice.

“Damn, are you dead?” Jungkook asked playfully as Taehyung stumbled to him, trying not to spill his coffee. Taehyung hated coffee, so he must have really needed it for some reason or another.

“Probably. I forgot I have a paper due on Monday.” He took a sip of it and made a disgusted face. “I hate this shit.”

Jungkook spied her walking up to the counter. She rubbed her chin and ordered a tea, handing over her card. She was wearing a white crop top, black baseball cap, and short leather jacket.

And his gray sweatpants.

Taehyung squinted at his neck.

“The fuck happened to you? Someone punch you in the neck?”

Jungkook slapped a hand over his hickey. “Er…”

She breezed past them, not looking at them as she hurried along, checking her phone for the time. Taehyung whipped his head around, recognizing her instantly. And the sweatpants.

“Yah! She told me she was going to study!” He whipped his head back to Jungkook, who looked away immediately. “Study your dick, apparently!”

“Uh…”

Taehyung narrowed his eyes and grumbled as he walked away.

“Well, get in line, bitch.”

--

sister story: meteor, m | myg

-

masterpost

-

note: Yes, I am aware League of Legends has changed the entire item inventory for 2021 preseason. I haven’t played the new patch since I wrote this. Just pretend this all happened before the preseason patch, okay? lol

[sillyrabbit81]

Syverson & Vixen

Summary: Captain Syverson retires from the Army and takes an extended vacation. He wasn't planning on falling in love. Then he meets Vix, an unlucky in love tattoo artist at a party. Do they have what it takes to make it.

Pairing: Syverson x OFC

Word Count: Approx 2k words

Warnings: swearing, recreational drinking smoking, implied Daddy kink.

Authors Note: I hope you enjoy my version of Sy. Thanks for reading.

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 3

Part 2

Syverson

Softy and I left to get to his party. Evidently, Jess wanted him there before the party started to give him his birthday present.

When we arrived, Softy let himself in the house. I wondered why these two weren't married and pushing out ankle biters. They had been together for eight years. Softy was also out of the military, so it wasn't the distance thing that stopped them.

Jess was real nice. She seemed like the homemaker type, and by the spread she had put on for tonight, she seemed to want to be one. She was blonde and pretty in a real girl-next-door kind of way. The type of girl you would take home to your momma.

The house was small but immaculate. It had a few kitsch items around like an old record player, a Faster Pussy Cat Kill Kill and Johnny Cash flipping the bird posters and a leopard print throw pillow that seemed out of place. Jess greeted me with a hug and a kiss, saying it was great to meet me, and asked how I was.

"Fine, thank you, ma'am," I said, going straight back to my roots. Since I didn't know Jess, my first instinct was to call her ma'am despite being about ten years younger than me.

Jess giggled, "Ma'am, huh? I don't think anyone's ever called me that before." I was relieved she took it well. Sometimes people bristle at being called sir or ma'am. She went on, "Pete, maybe you should learn some manners from, sorry, what's your first name?"

"Uh," I haven't had anyone, but my family call me by my first name in years. "Sy or Syverson is fine."

"Sy then. Well, it's great to meet you."

"You too, ma'am." I winked at her, and she giggled again. At least I haven't completely lost my touch.

"Oi, that's enough, Sy." Softy said with a smile. He knows me well enough that I'd never touch his woman. "Where's Vix?" He asked Jess. He gave me a wink.

"She outside helping the DJ, I think. But she's been out there a while. She must be putting the ice in the esky. Pete, will you help her?"

Softy looked at me, his eyebrows raising up and down and his head tilting towards the yard.

"I'll give her a hand," I said. "Through here?" I asked, looking through the glass sliding door.

I didn't need their answer because I saw her. I got what Softy meant about her having a look. She had pretty red hair pulled back into a high ponytail tied with a scarf, and she was wearing a black and white polka dot dress that was tight all over, showing off her Marilyn Munroe figure. Her dress had hitched up and revealed her creamy white thighs. But what made my dick hard was the tattooed line running up the back of her legs that ended mid-thigh with a pretty pink bow. She had many tattoos, including what looks like a half sleeve of a pin-up girl on her left arm.

She was struggling to take down some lights. I watched as she moved her little step stool to the next tie. She climbed up in some black old fashioned looking heels and lifted her arms high, pulling the dress right up again to reveal those pretty little bows.

I opened the sliding door quietly and went out, watching as she got the last tie. It was just that little bit too high for her. She stretched high and shuffled a bit, then stood on her toes.

I was about to offer her help when I heard the snip of the pliers, and she yelled out, "yes! Gotcha, you fucker."

I was surprised at her language and laughed. "My, my, my. What colourful language, Darlin'."

She froze a second, then got off the stool and turned around. She took my breath away for a moment. She was the sexiest girl I'd seen in years. She had Betty Page bangs and red lips with black eyeliner above big bright hazel eyes. Those eyes flashed with anger, went wide a moment before getting angry again. Darlin' has a temper. I smiled.

"You could have offered to help." She said as she started to roll the lights up.

"My apologies, ma'am. I was just about to when you completed your mission."

"It's not complete yet." She said. " I have to put up another set of lights."

"I'll be happy to help. You got any more of those ties?"

She walked past me. Her heels clicking on the tiled porch made my dick twitch. She went over to a shed and got out a cardboard box with a new pack of lights and ties.

She handed me the box, "thank-you."

She was about to walk away, so I said, "it'll be quicker if you help me." I gave her my best smile, showing her my teeth and everything.

"What do you want me to do?" She put her hands on her hips, and I get a good look at her sleeve. She had a 'Lady Luck' tattoo, a pinup girl in a martini glass with some roses, cards and dice around it. The tattoo went from her shoulder to her elbow.

"Pass me the ties, if you don't mind," I said, opening the box of lights. She kept standing with her hands on her hips. Her foot was tapping on the ground as if she were impatient. She reached up onto her head and pulled down some black cats eye sunglasses onto her eyes. For a brief moment, she could have been a pin-up herself with one hand resting on her hip and the other on her head. I reckon I'll never get that image out of my mind.

"Alright." She said. I got up on her stool, hoping like hell it could take my weight. I put my hand out to her, and she put one of the cable ties in my palm. She was careful not to touch me as her red fingernails dropped the cable tie into my hand. From this angle, I could see down the front of her dress. Dang, she had nice looking tits too.

"So, you're Victoria?" I said, trying to start her talking. She nodded but didn't say anything more. I clipped off the tie end of the cable tie to tidy it up, got off the stool, and moved to the next spot. "My name's Syverson."

"I know who you are," Vix said. Her sunglasses hid her expression from me, but her voice sounded like she was bored. But the way she was standing up straight with her tits out made me think she was playing me. Or maybe I was out of practice with girls.

"Is that a fact?" I said.

She hummed an agreement. "Pete's told us you'd be staying with him for a while."

"Yes, ma'am. I'm fixin' to have an extended vacation. Rest up a bit. I might get a Winnebago and travel around for a time. I haven't made up my mind yet."

Vix nodded but didn't say anything. Softy was right. This girl was hard mode. She wasn't giving me anything to work with. By the time we had gotten to the end of the lights, I was thinking about trying for one of the other girls later tonight. Then I felt her fingertips on my palm, and her nails grazed my skin as she gave me the last cable tie. Her touch sent white lighting through my veins.

I looked down at her. Vix was looking up at me with a sly smile on her face. God damned girl did that on purpose. Her smile grew, and she pulled her glasses down her nose to look me in the eyes. Her eyes were shining in amusement.

"Thank you, Sir," Vix said. Oh, she was good. She pushed her glasses back in place. I fixed the lights with the last tie and got off the stool. "Do you think you could fill the esky's with ice for me?" Vix asked.

"Uh," What the fuck is an esky? I looked around, trying to work out what it was. I felt like an idiot.

Vix tilted her head as if thinking. "The cooler?" She asked, pointing out the row of coolers near the house.

I got off the stool and said, "no trouble at all, Victoria." Her name felt sweet in my mouth.

"You can call me Vix," she said. "Only my Daddy calls me Victoria."

My eyebrows rose. Did she know what she was saying? Her smirk told me she did. My dick got hard again. This fucking girl was making me crazy, and I'd only known her fifteen minutes.

"Ain't you too old to call your father, Daddy?" I asked.

She curled her finger in a come here gesture. I bent my head down, so my ear was near her lips. "I wasn't talking about my Father," she whispered.

Oh, Lord in Heaven. I had to have this girl.

I took a deep breath and straightened up. I brought myself to my full height and crossed my arms. I opened my mouth to reply, and she said, "Thanks, the ice is in the esky, just open the bags and pour it in." She waved and walked to the house. Jesus, she played a good game. I had to give her that.

I watched her walk away. She didn't look back, but the way she swayed her hips when she walked was all for me. I'd bet a million dollars on it.

These Aussie boys seemed to know how to party. Lots of drinkin' and ribbin' on each other. It took a bit of getting used to, seeing they piled on each other. I hadn't heard the word cunt thrown around with such abandon since the last time I'd hung out with Softy. It wasn't just the guys who said to it. Some of the girls did too, but most of them didn't.

I had a chat with Vanessa, and she seemed nice but dull after meeting Vix. Chrissie was just as Softy said, and she would have been good to go after talking to her for 5 minutes. But I knew that if I even hinted at being interested in Chrissie, I'd never get Vix. I didn't even bother trying to talk to the other girl. I couldn't even remember her name.

It was hard to let loose, though. I found it difficult to think about much other than Vix. It didn't matter what I was doing; my eyes would go back to her all afternoon.

She was fascinating to watch too. Vix spoke to the guys a whole lot more than she talked to the girls, other than Jess and Mikey's wife. She drank a lot, mostly Dark and Stormy's in a can. She smoked too. I don't know what it was, but watching her red bee-stung lips wrapped around that cigarette made me turned on as hell. Maybe it was those red fingernails.

Vix even held Mikey's baby for a while. She looked funny, holding him. Vix seemed so maternal, playing peek-a-boo and pretending to eat his chubby fingers. Everything she did made me want to fuck her, including playing with a God damn baby. I didn't think I wanted to have children, but part of my brain went straight to thinking about what she'd look like pregnant with my kid.

She avoided me mostly, which would have discouraged me except that when she caught me looking at her a few times, one side of her mouth would turn up in a half-smile before she would turn her attention away.

When it started to get dark, Vix and Jess put out the food for dinner, and we all went up to serve ourselves food and sat on the plastic chairs eating off our laps. I was starving and piled my plate high with food. I went to grab a bread roll from the basket when bright red nails grabbed the roll I was about to take.

"That was mine," I said with a bit of aggression. I reached for another bread roll.

"Was it?" Vix said with mock innocence. "I'm sorry."

I chuckled, "No, you ain't."

"No, I'm not." She smiled at me and looked up at me through her long eyelashes. "I had to do something to get you to talk to me. You've been watching me for hours and haven't said a word."

I was happy I was sunburned cause it made me blush. Had I been so obvious? "You seemed busy."

"I'm not busy now." She turned and walked away and sat on a chair, crossed her legs and balanced her plate on her thigh. I, of course, followed.

Part 3

[forthechubbies]

Mrs. Jeon Vol 3

Synopsis• One nightstand gone Marriage!? The past catches up with Yn when her head over heels husband finds his lost bride and will keep her by any means necessary.

Category's•Violent Thoughts, Hostel Behavior, Nsfw (Later), and Bratty Jungkook.

Duos• Yandere! Jungkook x Chubby! Reader

Vol 1, 2, 3, 4,

What’s going on down there? It sounds restlessly calm. You could hear muffled voices but nothing more; you aren't too keen on testing your luck and sneak into the corridor to eavesdrop on their conversation. Pretty sure the door is locked anyway.

Instead, You took note of the confined walls surrounding you. A typical master bedroom accessorized an earthy decor, cute mini-plants placed in various room areas, two tiny pet turtles in a tank constructed into a giant wooden bookshelf.

Speaking of books, talk about books galore. The shelved books had little to no wiggle room aside from the one empty slot belonging to the open novel on the nightstand. The owner won’t mind you partaking in one quick gander-

“Ah!” You gasp, fixing your eyes on your newly treated ankle. For a minute, you just about forgot this crazy abducted situation your in. The bedsprings dip as you flop back into the spot where Jimin left you. Jimin was the man you fell on during your first attempt at freedom; he was even generous enough to bandage with utmost care.

A kind gesture a particular bunny wasn’t too thrilled on seeing, Jungkook's face soured while watching Jimin’s filthy little womanizing hands caressing the delicate soft plushy skin of his carrot’s legs.

Son of a bitch trying to cop a feel on his wife, Jimin’s flirtatious persona, led him out to be a well-known heartthrob but often seen as a gigolo through certain people's point of view and, frankly, Jungkook's wife won't be a victim of the Jimin Effect.

Crash!

The smash of a glass object-making contact with the hard marble kitchen floor snatched Jimin’s and your attention giving it to the irritable bunny who’s psychotically enthusiastic about testing his progress in strength by snapping his hyung’s neck-

Oh, no, his carrot looks frightened-He shouldn't do such a brutal act of love with his wife nearby; her poor innocent heart might shatter. No violence...At least for the time being.

Next thing you know, Jungkook's face lightened up, and even when Jimin bit his head off for breaking one of Jin’s fancy dinnerware, his facial expression persisted undaunted. Jungkook kept a serene masquerade, but through closer observation, he clenched his jaw at Jimin’s hand on cradling the small of his wife’s back, guiding her into hiding in the upper part of the house for a reason unknown.

Jungkook let Jimin take you no-fuss included, Hence, Your encaged situation. For all, you know, The men were downstairs plotting a far-flung strategy to murder you making it look like a battle of defense.

Though, You were more occupied by another Crack for the floor down below. ” Ahh!” You cried out, falling back on the bed once again.

Meanwhile, Downstairs.

”Stop! Breaking Hyung’s plates, or we're both as good as dead!” Jimin growled. ”Quit avoiding the question! Who the hell is that woman!? Did you hurt her!? Why-!” Jimin asked Jungkook until his cheeks burned a reddish hue, and his neck veins were dominant.

In one swift breath, Jungkook responded. “ She’s Mrs.Jeon. My wife.”

Jimin knew his maknae had a few loose screws in his head, but this is getting out of hand.

”Wife?! Do you know how old you are!? Kook, You just turn twenty-three-”

”So What.” Jungkook interrupted. ”You want me to wait until I’m an ancient fart like Hyung to get married.”

”Pffft.” Jimin pressed his lips into a thin line suppressing his need to laugh. ”Ahem, respect your elders-You little brat.”

Amidst the brothers at each other's throats, another member of the maknae line awakened from his mid-morning nap; drowsy eyed Kim Taehyung waddled upstairs to check up on his Hyung living in the room above him.

He could have sworn a faint scream is what he heard-Well; there's no harm in checking.

You jumped at the squeaky hinges of the door opening. Wait, it was unlocked!? Expecting the uninvited visitor to be Jungkook, You raised a pillow over your head, ready to be hurled-to your amazement; it was a completely different man.

A long-haired male with long chocolate locks kept at bay by a beige headband; his attire was disarray. His tank top hung off his shoulder, slightly creased in his pajama pant’s waistband.

Adorable, to say the least, the poor thing’s eyes weren’t even fully open yet, the pretty pink pout of his lips nearly forced an” Aw” from yours.

”Who are you?” He grumbled, scratching the back of his neck.

Sweet mother of deep, He stood a few feet away, but the raspiness and depth of his voice caused your insides to start quivering.

”I’m-I’m the sand fairy.” You choked out, fluttering the tips of your fingers as if spreading magic dust. ” I'm here to ensure all your dreams are sweet. ”

You nibbled your lip nervously, hoping he takes the bait. He yawned in response dragging his exhausted body across the room to you; he halts. You gulped, staring up at him; you felt like a mouse about to pounce on by a tiger.

”H-H-I!” You yelped.

The man took no real investment in your fib; instead, he decided to reap the benefits of how soft and plushy you are by laying his head on your bare thighs. He wiggled in place to reach maximum comfort.

”Ah.” He moaned, falling back to sleep.

Oh, dear.

………

The sound of the hyung’s arrival made the two maknae gulp.

First in the door was Hoseok, hands full grocery bags ” Come help! Quick, save the ice cream if it isn't soup by now.”

Namjoon followed behind. ” I told Jin not to get the ice cream first-He knows how he gets with his coupons.”

”The worst part is he got upset when we told him that's enough food then told to stay in the car.” Yoongi stretched out the pins and needles feeling in his limbs.

”You may say that's enough now, but when that brat comes, he's going to eat us out of house and home!” Jin scolded, unconsciously fetching the rest of the bags.

Jin froze, staring at Jungkook, helping put the food in the correct places. He didn't hesitate to smother his baby boy in a hug, but right after, he jabbed Jungkook's gut.

”Oof!” Jungkook doubled over, gripping his chest. ” I missed you too,” He coughed.

Jin stood tall. ” And there's plenty more where that came from once Hoseok gets his hands on you.”

Anyone but Hoseok.

” I heard Jk!” Hoseok rushed Jungkook a bear hug. ” Thank goodness you're alright!” He jabbed in his Jungkook's gut. ” Where the hell have you been?!”

Jungkook groaned. ” Ou-Ouch..I won't be able to tell you if I keep getting hit.” He cleared his throat. ”America.”

”America!” The hyungs blared out.

Namjoon pinched the bridge of his nose. ” What possessed you to go there on your own? Have you forgotten what you are?”

Jungkook sighed. “ I know, I know, but I just envy normal people around my age having the freedom to go wherever they want.”

“ But you’re not," Yoongi brutally minced Jungkook’s sob story. He’s not particularly fond of beating around the bush, especially when dealing with his brothers earlier this afternoon. “ Unlike ‘normal’ twenty-year-olds, you are adored by army who would be upset if anything happened to you.”

Jungkook bowed his head in shame; the thought of army never really crossed his mind.

“And-“ Yoongi continued. “ There are crazies in every country, so what made you think heading off on your own would be alright!?”

“Why America?” Namjoon’s brow jumped as the gears in his head began to turn. “ Out of all the beautiful places we visited-You chose the U.S? What was there that you had to leave without an explanation?”

Namjoon stared at Jungkook’s eyes not in a malicious sense, just a habit when trying to figure out a solution or, in this case, a missing clue to the reason his little brother hopped up and left.

“Twinkats (Twinkies),” Jimin laughed nervously. “ I bet his suitcase is full of them.”

Sadly, Jimin’s fairy charm wouldn’t work this time. Jungkook is drowning in deep waters, and there’s no salvage coming for miles; at this rate, Jungkook had two options: tell the truth, orrrr, run away with his loving wife in his arms.

Not gonna lie; Jungkook leaned towards the second option, but the fates had another plan.

”Hyung! Hyung! Namjoon-Hyungie!!” Taehyung screamed bloody murder, sprinting downstairs minus jumping the last five steps. ” Her ankle is purple!”

Taehyung paused, breathing heavily in front of the kitchen where the interrogation is being held, accompanied by a woman injured cradled in his arms, more worried about him dropping than her throbbing ankle.

Taehyung had the room’s undivided attention, and Jungkook’s enviousness scowl; his wife was clinging on to another man like a baby koala to its mother but had it been him, she would scratch his eyes out.

Let's not mention the fact! It seems like she's only wearing a shirt, and guess who the owner is, not him!

” Who-”

”What-”

”Why”

” How!?”

Before getting into details about the hyung's reaction to their new houseguest, let's first take a detour to Prince Taehyung mini rescue adventure.

A good hour in, Taehyung woke up from the best nap of his life to beautiful damsel sniffles and tears. The sweetheart asked what was wrong and nodded as the damsel explained, coming to realize she was in distress. Prince Taehyung aided the beauty with new clothes and tied a red ribbon into her hair….beacause he thought it would look pretty (Shrugs).

However, her ankle injury required a different source of help, so who else to ask but his favorite Hyung? But he couldn't find Yoongi in his room, so he decided to ask Namjoon instead.

Back to the original story

Taehyung explains the truth unconsciously, throwing his little brother under the bus.

Jin’s eye twitched as he peered at Jungkook, who was attempting to slip out of the kitchen. ” You little sh-!”

Let's just say Jin didn't nearly beat Jungkook almost half to death with a rice paddle while shouting numerous insults to bruise a thousand men’s pride in a second.

It went silent after Jin banished Jungkook to the beach house a few feet from the house until he wanted to see his face again. Namjoon took it upon himself to introduce the gang.

You politely shared a warm hello but wished nothing more to go home.

[bootyyy-shaker9000]

So for the mud dogs one can you do one of the reader being the Robin Hood type (stealing from the rich and give to the poor) and the reader is close friends with Leonard and he kind of looks up to them for being so honorable (never admits it though). But they do a heist together and Leonard finds out after that its for an orphanage and they hang out after (and upon seeing the reader give so much to the children and the kids all loving up on the reader just made that orgers heart swell) and he can't help but confess his feelings for the reader. Please and thank you ❤❤❤

Not Many Care, But You Do

L.Leonard x G-N! Reader (Oneshot)

Relationship: Pining - Romantic 

Warnings: Cursing. This is a long one, lads

Leonard stood by you breathless as you both found refuge in a nook behind the Hidden City Train Station. The aged pilings that held up the towering tracks above you trembled as the rush-hour train chugged on by. Your backs clung to the brick wall you rested on, for the time being, taking a moment to gather your bearings. 

Raising a hand to grasp at his chest, he wheezed, “You think we’re in the clear?”

You made an effort to pull yourself to the building’s corner, taking a peek out into the overly crowded street. Noting the lack of familiar uniforms in the sea of yokai, you nodded over to your friend in affirmation. “Yeah, yeah we’re good.”

“Finally.” With an exasperated sigh, he pathetically collapsed to the ground as his knees gave out beneath him. “I’m sick of running from those pigs, my feet are killing me.”

“Maybe you can buy a pair of trainers with that moola.” 

“The day you catch me wearing sneakers will be the day I die.” 

Leonard huffed as he withdrew one of the wads of cash he had spewing from his pockets, stroking his thumb over the paper’s edge. You watched as he did so, tossing the bag you had originally slung over your shoulder to his side. 

“Take your share, but don’t take too long.” You spoke, leaning back on the wall and crossing one ankle over the other. 

Leonard raised an eyebrow to you, dragging the sack of loot between his legs while he patted the dirt by his side. “We just ran a mile, sit yourself down for a minute.” 

You eyed him as you contemplated his gesture. Soon enough you gave in and crouched down to his level, your knees clicking in the process. As Leonard rummaged through the bag and tallied up the count in his head, his eyes flickered once or twice over to you. “What’re you in a rush for anyway?”

“I just gotta make a stop somewhere.”

“You gonna elaborate on that?”

You sent your friend a sly grin. “No, I don’t think I will.”

“Pft, fine then, keep your secrets.” Leonard’s lips tugged up before shaking his head, turning his attention back to his lap. It only took another moment or two for him to finish totalling up your win, then he handed the only slightly lighter bag over to you and cleared his throat. “You did most of the work back there so, uh, you can have ten per cent off of my share.”

Touched, you replied with a hearty smile. “Thanks, man. But most of this isn’t for me anyway.”

“What d’ya mean, where’s it going?” Leonard stared at you perplexed as you made way to get back to your feet, dusting off your backside in the process. While one hand accommodated the bag in your grasp, his gaze turned to the one you held out to him. 

“I’ll show you, come on.”

***

The two of you kept to the alleyways as much as possible as you lead the way to your mystery destination, which by the way, you still refused to share with the ogre. The area seemed run-down, forgotten almost. The afternoon was beginning to draw a close, with the sun’s amber gleams sitting above the boarded-up buildings you passed by. 

He was aware that the closer it got to sunset, the sooner more authorities would be patrolling the streets for their nightly shift, which wouldn’t have been such a worrisome thing if it wasn’t for the fact you hit your heist at the brink of midday. Now they’ll have two clear faces to look out for, so you couldn’t blame him for getting itchy. 

“Are we getting close? We can’t be walking around all night.”

“We already are here, dingus.” You stated over your shoulder before quickening your steps, springing up to a nearby set of stairs. 

The building they neared towards wasn’t too grand and lacked much detail appearance-wise, aside from the large plaque that was nailed above the doorway that read: ‘Apple Blossom Children’s Home’. 

Leonard breathed out a quiet “huh?” to himself before gradually making his way towards the entrance step by step.

Turning on your heel, you faced him with a wince. "Just, be nice for me in there, okay?"

"When am I not?"

"Funny."

Your friend tsked from behind as you raised a balled hand and banged a patterned knock on the door's acre panel. Scrambling could be heard from the other side, a muffled voice sounding before the door flung open soon after.

In the entrance stood a dishevelled nekomata, her hair and clothes tussled. Though her ears perked once she took notice of your familiar form, while also straightening out her whiskers in the process.

"Y/N! Aren't you a sight for sore eyes? Get in here, come on." With a wave of her hand, she ushered you into the establishment. While Leonard stood hesitant, you assured him with a simple smile, nodding towards the woman's direction before walking through the doorway yourself.

He stepped into what upon first viewing seemed to be a lobby of some sorts, accommodated with aged lily-pink plaster and the occasional drawings graffitied on the lower half of the walls. On the end before him, a few feet away or so stood a desk, worn and commonly sat at told by the mountains of documents and multiple empty mugs.

He ceased his footing once he felt something catch beneath his sandal, twirling it with his heal he noticed it was a discarded doll, one of many other toys that were scattered across the carpet.

"Kita! Put Jacob down, we have guests!" The cat yokai called out, a bang and a set of giggles heard in tow. Slumping her shoulders with a sigh, she turned to meet your gaze. "I swear it's gotten crazier since the last time you were over. So who's your pal?"

The ogre's cheeks dusted a light pink at the sudden attention drawn to him, though it was subsided as you stepped forward in reply.

"Ena, this is Leonard. He's a close friend of mine."

Ena's bright eyes caught a glimpse of his before a knowing grin pulled at her lips. "Close, huh? He's a shy one, isn't he?"

"W-well I-" He made way to stutter out a response but a childlike shriek reached his ears, wincing as he turned to see the culprit sprinting to your side.

"Fleshy!" The child gleefully yelled, reaching to you with outstretched hands. Ignoring the commonly used nickname, you reciprocated their greeting by sweeping them up into your arms.

"Hey, you! How you doin'?"

"I just squashed a lizard outside!"

"Oh, well, isn't that nice." You deadpanned, while Leonard seemed just as amused as you as he stifled his own snort.

Ena once again sighed, pinching the corners of her eyes. "I've told them to stop calling you that."

"It's fine, honestly." You chuckled, before adjusting yourself to hold out the sack you had previously propped on the ground. "Here. This should keep you going for the next month or so."

The cat scrutinized the bag in your grasp. "Y/N, you don't have to keep-"

"Ena. Take it, okay? It's not any trouble, and I know you need it. Much more than those flashy broads that wouldn't think to even spare a dime."

Your gaze held an encouraging glint, and you further gestured for her to take the bag despite the child that was wriggling in your clutch. To save herself from further prodding, all too aware of your stubborn nature, Ena accepted the bounty and quickly set it beside her counter.

As Leonard took in the scene before him, he rubbed his fingertips against his gloved palms at the sight of the woman's glossy eyes. Then his regard fell upon you, so much warmth emitting from you as you carried the ever-so giddy toddler. He would be lying if he said the entire situation wasn't pulling at his heartstrings.

Ena sucked in her bottom lip, smiling at you wholeheartedly before coiling her arms around your neck, while you hugged her back with your free arm. Choked up, she whispered. "You're a Saint, you know that? Seriously, I don't know where I'd be without you."

Releasing you, she sniffled, gathering herself before turning to your friend, who seemed to jump at her sudden gaze. "And you! Thank you so much."

Leonard almost acted on the urge to mention how he had no idea about the transaction, but he was cut short as she took him into her embrace also. Caught off entirely by the friendly affection, his eyes met yours over her shoulder in apprehension. Though all you did was grin and the small yokai in your arms gestured for him to hold her back.

In an awkward attempt at doing so, the man placed a gentle hand on her shoulder blade with a light pat. "It was nothin'."

"Sorry." Ena chuckled nervously, looking between the two of you. "I just- agh, this just means so much to me."

You laughed along with her, making way to stand closer to Leonard's side. Though, a little birdy on your shoulder drew your attention elsewhere.

"Your boyfriend's staring."

"Wha-"

"Oh my gosh- Kita, scamper!"

"Okay, I'm gonna go call for a pickup."

***

The ogre perched on the stone steps, patiently waiting as you bid your goodbye's inside. He rested his elbows on his knees as he loosely crossed his arms, looking off into the streets where the sun resided, scarcely peeking over the horizon.

He couldn't get the entire last hour out of his head. He couldn't shake the ceaseless butterflies gathering in his belly while he recalled the way you smiled over at him, while you held Kita. How you smiled over at Ena knowingly despite her protests.

Leonard was aware of how compassionate you were towards others, in your own simple way of doing so. It's what made his admiration grow for you in the first place.

You were just so...considerate. Never would he have thought he'd become so attached to someone like you...

"You call them yet?"

The familiar voice reeled him out of his daydream, soon enough mentally slapping himself for jumping as hard as he did.

"Uh, yeah. They'll be here in ten."

"Cool beans." Your feet clipped as you jumped down a step or two, releasing an exaggerated sigh as you sat down beside him.

Sensing the newfound silence, Leonard rubbed up and down his bicep, coughing out before he spoke up.

"So, 'Fleshy', huh? 'M guessing they haven't really come across a humie before." 

You let out a breathy chuckle. "Nah. To be honest, they don't get to see many people at all. Unless it's their social worker..."

Leonard hummed in acknowledgement. "So how long have you been doing this for them?”

“About, uh...a year now? I’d say? Yeah. I’ve known Ena for quite a while, though.” You huffed lightly through your nose before slumping into a similar position as the ogre. “She loves those kids to bits but, she struggles so much. She’s practically on her last legs, and it doesn’t help when the taxes come to bite her in the ass. There’s only one other coworker there and they always fuck off to god knows where, so she’s having to take care of fourteen kids on her own-”

“Y/N.”

Your eyes snapped towards his. “What?”

“Catch your breath, don’t want you passin’ out on me.” Leonard released one of his rare hearty laughs, which never seemed to fail at making your blood rush to your ears. 

“Right. I just- I just can’t stand by and watch her suffer like this, knowing she’s been there for me so much in the past. I would’ve done it even if it wasn’t to owe her back. If people need help and nobody else is gonna do something about it, then I guess I will. That’s just how it is.”

“You mean...that’s just how it is, with you?” Leonard added, taking in the incredulous look you shot him before turning his stare towards the cobbled roads. “I’m not saying it’s bad, you’re just a nice change of pace, is all. There aren't many people out there like you, people who care as much as you. Hell, I’ve barely been that person. But you’re just so... genuine a-and thoughtful. It’s amazing. I don’t get it, if I’m, uh, being honest with you.”

He breathed out another laugh, although this time it was to mostly to cover up his growing nerves. His eyes flickered towards yours before continuing. “I get that people have morals and shit, most of ‘em anyway. But you, y-you’re...”

Leonard stumbled as he caught sight of your sudden proximity, so close he couldn’t help but let his eyes wander, noticing the short, soft breaths that passed your parted lips. He quickly swiped his tongue over his bottom lip as he felt his chest ache for you to be closer.

“Y-” 

“OH LOVEBIRDS~”

“You have got to be kidding me?”

Despite being aware of who your two interrupters were, and were about to awkwardly make way to where Charlotte was parked, Malicious just had to flash the headlights for extra measure.

“Get in the fucking car, we’re gettin’ Linguini’s tonight! Wooo!” The eel practically screamed at the top of his lungs, and in return you could hear a muffled: 

“Keep it down, will ya, or we won’t get takeout at all.”

“Sorry, D.”

The ogre made sure you were up and behind him before taking aggravated strides towards the van, nearing up to where Mickey sat in the passenger seat. 

Holding a tight grin, his friend quipped. “So, kids, how was your date?”

That earned him a palm to the face, pushing him back into his seat through the open window. 

"I take it not so well."

A scowl was etched deep into leonard’s mug as he flung open the sliding door, stepping aside to clear way for you to enter first. Though as you stepped into the van, you tilted Leonard’s chin up to meet your warm gaze. Before he could comprehend the action, you placed a careful, chaste peck to his lips. The act seemed to have eased his tension, because he found himself reflecting the smile you held as he closed the door behind him. 

“We have a rear view mirror, guys, c’mon.”

[elizabeethan]

Something Unexpected

A Gentle “I Love You” Whispered After A Soft Kiss, Followed Immediately By A Stronger Kiss

Killian Jones has never felt especially devout to the church, falling into Priesthood following the death of his brother and father. When Emma Swan beings attending nearly every service, he knows her presence to be a test of his will. One he will most certainly fail.

Titled as such because this became something I was not expecting...

If smutty priest!Killian is not your thing, no hard feelings!! Please just skip this one and I’ll catch you next time 😇💛

Read on Ao3

~3700 words

Rated E for sexy times and curse words

Read my Other Stuff

I don’t know if I even want to tag anyone because I’m horrified of offending someone so ✌️

~~~~

He hears the clicking of her boots against the stone flooring long before he even hopes to see her. He knows which ones she must be wearing before she even gets to his office, recognizing the tall pair that reaches above her knee in the most deliciously sinful way by the tone of it’s clicks against the hard surface. They’re the same pair she wore yesterday during his sermon, where she continued to cross and uncross her knees as she made eye contact with him, biting her lower lip in a way that made his pants too tight. 

  Killian Jones fell into priesthood by accident. After the sudden death of his father and brother left him with the family business, he decided that preparing the dead for their services was not for him. With little other options, and with his philosophy degree already pointlessly completed, he obtained his master’s degree in divinity without a clear path before him and became a priest in the small town of Storybrooke, Maine. He’s never been extremely devout, but meeting Emma Swan has made him question his devotion to the church more than he even thought possible. 

  The first time he met her, the first time he saw her staring up at him through thick lashes, her big emerald eyes glowing in the candlelight during evening mass, he thought it must've been a test. Something greater than himself sent a devil dressed in an angel’s clothes to ensure his allegiance to God, and he failed miserably. He hasn’t been able to stop the thoughts of ruining her since then, though he hasn’t touched her once in the six months that they’ve been getting to know one another. 

Several times a week, Emma makes confession to him, starting by listing silly things she’s done like throwing away her leftovers because she didn’t like them but felt too guilty to refuse a to-go box, or double parking someone at the post-office because she was just running in for a second. But every once in a while, she teases him by confessing her impure thoughts for a man of the cloth, her knowledge of his fidelity to the church just barely outweighing her desperation for him. It’s driving him mad to absolve her, to tell her that she is doing the right thing by ignoring her desires. 

  But today, she’s meeting him after telling him the night before after his service had ended that she needs counsel from a man of God. He can only hope it’s for the usual things he deals with, like mild anxiety or feelings of uncertainty surrounding her faith, but based on his knowledge of her after all these months, he knows it must be something else. 

  A part of him, the part that the devil likes to taunt, hopes it’s something else. 

  There’s a soft knock on the door and he calls for her to enter, the heavy slab of wood gliding across the stone floor until she peeks her head through. “Father?” she asks, and the tone of her voice does something to him despite being referred to as his title each and every day. 

  “Hello,” he returns, clearing his throat. “Please, have a seat.”

  “Thank you for seeing me,” she says softly, giving him a smile that makes his heart race. Her cheeks are flushed and pink, and he hopes it’s from the cold air she had to walk through to get to him. “It’s comforting to know that I have someone I can talk to.”

  “Of course, love,” he says, wanting to kick himself at the informality. They’ve spent months getting to know each other, although it’s always with a partition between them and with the possibility that someone could overhear. He clears his throat. “Uh, my child. What brings you to seek counsel this evening?” 

  She swallows, gulps, and he notes the anxious bounce of her right leg causing her heel to tap

against the floor. “Well, I… I’m worried, Father.”

  “What about?” he asks with concern. Despite how clearly he knows that he should stop, he cares about her deeply and struggles to hide his concern for her. 

  “My symptoms,” she says softly, timidly, “they haven’t gotten any better.”

  His heart rate picks up as she mentions her symptoms. He begins to sweat, his collar feeling much too tight as he realizes exactly to what she’s referring. “I see. And, um, you’ve tried what we’ve discussed?” 

  She nods solemnly. “Yes, I’ve been praying and praying each day, but my desires continue to plague my mind and body.” 

  His mouth goes dry and his stomach curls in knots. “Remind me, child, of what desires you speak, exactly?” 

  She bites her full bottom lip and stares at him through her thick, black lashes. “My desires to be with a man of the cloth. Not only to be with him physically— to show him what he’s been missing in his years of service to God— but also… to be with him. To spend a lifetime with him. To love and be loved by him.”

  He stands from his chair, hearing it scrape against the rough stone, and walks around the desk towards her with haste. He’s hardly able to breath, each puff of air coming out hot and short, and he notes the rapid rise and fall of her own chest as her breasts swell against the tight, low cut top she wears. Clearly, it’s another one of the devil’s tests, and he’s about to fail. He kneels before her and takes her hands, placing both sets in her lap. “And your prayers have not worked?” 

  Shaking her head, she says, “each time I pray to God to ask Him to steer me in the right direction, I see an image of you before me. How can I follow God’s will if, each time I try, I’m met with that which I am trying so desperately to avoid?”

  “Avoid?”

  Her mouth is downturned, open slightly, her brows straining in concern and her chest heaving as she pants through her nerves. “I wish I could see and speak to you each and every day, Father. But I know that if I were to do just that, I would never stand a chance. I would never fall out of love with you.”

  He stops breathing, releasing her hands from his own and reaching them into her hair as he grazes his fingers along her scalp in a way that makes her lashes flutter over her cheeks. “Emma,” he breathes against her mouth, coming closer and closer to her as he feels her breathing picking up. She bites her bottom lip sinfully again, tracing her own fingers along the edge of his collar before he closes his eyes as well. 

  He hasn’t kissed a woman in ages, but he knows with certainty that the kiss they share now is more passionate and more meaningful than any he’s ever had. It’s soft and gentle, allowing both of them the opportunity to melt into the other’s hold, before she pulls away breathlessly and squeezes the collar of his shirt. “I love you,” she whispers, her swollen lips pressed just barely against his mouth. 

  Her expression drives him to madness, to sin, and he lunges for her more powerfully this time, pulling her head to his and kissing her fiercely. She moans lewdly into his mouth as his tongue traces the seam of her lips, her fingers finding their way around his neck and into the thick hair at the back of his head. She pulls him impossibly closer to herself, until his hands slide down her back and lift her from the small chair, placing her on his desk. She separates her knees from one another in order to create enough space for him to rest his hips against hers as he continues to kiss her with the passion he’s been wanting to unleash for months. 

  Parting from her for just a second, he cups her cheeks with his palms and traces her high cheekbones with his thumbs. “I love you, Emma,” he whispers back to her. He furrows his brows and continues to stroke her cheeks, only this time it’s to catch a tear that has slipped from her jade eyes. “What is it?”

  “How can we love each other and never be together?” she cries softly. “How can the Lord be so cruel as to make us so perfect for one another, only to make it impossible for us to love each other the way we both deserve?” 

  He shakes his head, kissing her tenderly once more, and says, “nothing is impossible, my love. I have every intention of being with you from this day forward.” 

  “How can you say that?” she asks with a touch of anger in her voice. 

  “Because I love you,” he answers simply. “Because my love for you is stronger than anything else in this world and in this life. The way that I love you, the way that I intend to love you, transcends the way that I feel about anything and everything else.”

  “What about the church?” she asks him, her fingers tracing along his clerical collar, which suddenly feels much too tight. So tight, that he loosens it and places it on the desk behind her. 

  “The church is not ever going to make me feel the way I feel when I’m with you.” 

  It’s his confession this time that drives the two of them together, her fingers finding her hair again and his pulling on her lower back so that their hips are pressed together firmly. He feels her hooking her ankles together behind his thighs and it makes his stomach churn in the best possible way as he lets his fingers explore the soft skin under her skin tight knit sweater. She moans into his lips again, and the way hers part gives him access to sneak his tongue inside and explore until she begins panting needingly. She tightens her thighs around his hips, pulling him more firmly against herself until he begins to swell against the seam of his pants. That’s when he notices what she’s wearing, the knit sweater paired perfectly with a skirt that was modest in length, especially with her tall boots, until she sat with her thighs spread on his desk. He grinds his own hips against hers and she moans so erotically that it makes his cock pulse harder. 

  “I want you,” she begs against his kiss, swiveling her hips on his. “Please, Father.”

  “ Fuck ,” he groans. “Please call me Killian.”

  She pulls away from him and gives him a smirk so lurid that he loses his breath. “You don’t want me to address you formally?”

  He chuckles breathlessly and says, “I’d rather forget about my ties to the church, if I can. After all, I plan on resigning tomorrow.” 

  She snorts. “Can you even do that?” 

  He shrugs, his palms finding her rear and pulling her to the edge of the desk. “I’ll find out.”

  She lets out a cry, a bit too loud despite the privacy they’ve found in his office, as he tugs her sweater above her head and laps his tongue against the lace of her bra. He wonders if she wore the garment on purpose, with hopes of how the evening would go, and finds himself pulsing in his slacks at the thought. 

  “I’ve not tasted,” he breathes against her hardened nipple, feeling her tug at his hair. “A woman,” he starts again, biting down just hard enough to make her moan. “In quite some time.”

  “ Fuck,” she pants. 

  “And I’ve never met a woman I’ve wanted to taste more desperately than I want to taste you, my love.” He bites her collarbone and then licks the sensitive flesh and her hips cant against his. “May I taste you, Emma?” he whispers against her neck. 

  “God, yes, please,” she starts, but he cuts her off by pressing his finger to her lips. 

  “ Killian ,” he whispers with a smirk. 

  She snorts, and while the sound may detract from the mood slightly, it makes him love her even more. “My apologies,” she jests. “Now, what was it you said you wanted?” 

  He’s practically growling as he places his warm palms on the smooth skin of her thighs, wondering in passing how cold she must’ve been in the chilled fall air on her way into the church. “I want what I’ve wanted since the moment I first laid eyes on you,” he says, sinking to his knees between her thighs. “I want the taste of you on my tongue. I want to make you come so hard you see stars behind your eyes.”

  Her breath catches in her throat at his declaration, and when he runs one finger along her dampened underwear, she gasps and pushes her hips forward until she’s barely hanging on to the edge of the wooden desk. He lets his hot breath flood her sensitive core and she keens at the sensation, her knuckles turning white with the force with which she grips the surface. “Okay,” she whimpers. 

  “Is that something you’d like?”

  “Yes.”

  He hums in agreement and lets his teeth drag the soaked fabric from her, down her thighs until he can tug them with his fingers over her black suede boots. When he’s met with her swollen center, he slowly lets his tongue drag up her slit, collecting some of her arousal so that he can push against her clit until she cries out and tugs on his hair again after pushing her skirt out of the way. With her permission and her obvious enthusiasm, he places her thighs upon his shoulders and grabs her ass with his hands, letting his tongue trace gentle, hot patterns along her core until she’s chanting his name. He feels her squeezing her thighs together against his head, so he moves his right hand from behind her and slides a finger through her arousal, swirling his tongue on her clit and tucking his finger into her, causing her to squeeze harder. 

  “Fuck, yes, Killian,” she praises, pulling on his hair and slamming her other hand against the desk. “Fuck, more.” 

  He hums against her and she cants her hips against his mouth. “You want more?” She nods. “You want two fingers? Three?”

  “Yes, please yes,” she begs. “I want your cock.”

  “Mm mm,” he hums, shaking his head as he drags his tongue over her clit. “Come on my tongue first, love,” he commands as he adds another finger and curls them until she stutters. “Be a good girl and I’ll give you what you want.”

  “Oh fuck,” she moans, her muscles tightening around his fingers. “More,” she begs again. 

  “My, my, someone’s desperate.” He slips a third finger into her and she squeaks out something inaudible, grip somehow tightening on his hair as she comes hard around him. “That’s it, love,” he coaxes, working her through it, not letting up in hopes of preparing her for more. 

  “Shit,” she breathes as she lets her head fall back on her neck. He stands, never letting his fingers stop their slow, languid movements as she continues to twitch around them, and presses soft kisses to the bare skin of her chest, up her neck, until their lips meet. Her breathing continues to stutter against him as he keeps up his ministrations until eventually she’s whimpering against him, nearly ready to come again, so he backs off and removes his hands from her all together. “Mean,” she accuses. 

  With a soft laugh, he begins working on the button of his pants and slides the zipper down. “Apologies, but I believe the lady mentioned wanting something other than my fingers?”

  “Oh, yes,” she agrees fervidly. He feels her fingers against his stomach, pulling at the waist of his pants as if helping him out of them. “I’ve wanted to see your body for so long. You leave way too much to the imagination under that robe.”

  “And what have you imagined?” he asks against her neck. 

  She pulls at his shirt, free of his collar now, until it’s over his head and she’s able to press her palms against his chest. “This,” she breathes, scratching her nails through the coarse hair. “Sometimes I would see your forearms and just imagine how much hair you would have all over.”

  He loses his breath as she leans towards him and licks against his taut nipple and says, “aye.”

  “So hot,” she murmurs against him, dragging her nails down his front and sending a shiver through him. His fly is down but his pants are still up, and she seems disappointed in this as she shakes her head and tugs them down his thighs. The only thing between her hand and his cock is his thin boxer briefs, and she traces her fingers along the outline of his tip and up his shaft so lightly that it makes him shiver again. 

  He slides his hands up her thighs again, scratching his fingers along the way, and hums appreciatively at the feel of her soft skin. “It’s been quite a long time since I’ve...” 

  “I would hope so, Father ,” she flirts, sneaking her hand into his briefs and gripping him with firm tenderness. 

  “What did I tell you?” he bites out, sucking a mark into her neck that she’ll surely wear tomorrow. 

  She moans at the sensation, and at him licking her tender skin. “Killian,” she corrects. 

  He captures her lips in his again, kissing her with a passion he’s been craving to show her for the six months that she’s been coming to mass. Maybe he should’ve known how she felt from the start; there are only a few people in town who attend mass more than once a week, and she’s come to nearly each one, sitting in the front row and constantly crossing and uncrossing her legs. He can only hope that means he’s had an affect on her all along. “I love you,” he mumbles against her mouth as she deepens the kiss, pulling him closer and tugging his underwear down his legs until he can kick them off. 

  She repeats his sentiment back to him again and again as he unhooks her bra and slides it off. She says it again as he pulls her skirt off of her hips, letting it fall to the floor between them. She repeats it once more as he slides his cock up and down through her folds, letting her arousal coat the both of them. It doesn’t take long, given how wet she is, and he’s breathlessly lining himself up to her entrance in a matter of moments. “Please,” she begs again, lacing her fingers into his hair and pulling his mouth back to hers. He tucks himself into her as she kisses him, her tongue exploring his mouth so that he can feel the moan she lets out. 

  He breaks from her and groans into her neck, pulling her close to him so that he can feel her breasts pressed into his chest and her chest and stomach heaving with each heavy intake of breath. He’s glad he brought her close to the edge already, because she feels so perfect around him that he knows he won’t last long. “Fuck, you’re incredible,” he says as he kisses her once more. 

  She starts to become restless in his arms as he pumps into her, and she wriggles to the edge of the desk until he’s picking her up and supporting her weight. She pushes against his shoulders, not breaking their kiss, and guiding him backwards into the chair he scooped her out of. Planting himself down without leaving her core, her suede-covered knees brace herself on either side of his hips until she grips his shoulders firmly and starts riding him mercilessly. The way she thrusts makes her breasts bounce before his face and he can’t help but to sneak a nipple into his mouth, sucking it until she whimpers and digs her nails into his skin. Eventually, when he can hardly take anymore, he plants his feet firmly on the floor and begins to thrust his hips up into her until she’s panting into the skin of his neck. “Don’t stop,” she breathes. Then, “harder.”

  She meets his every movement with her own until he feels her fluttering and squeezing and falling apart around him. He places his fingers against her clit and she cries out, hugging herself to him and shouting his name just a bit too loudly. He praises himself for lasting and, once he’s certain that she’s reached the precipice and is falling off the same edge he’s about to topple over, he praises her as well. Squeezing his eyes shut, he gives in to the building pressure and lets himself go as her tight walls clench around him. 

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he says, continuing his thrusts as she does the same, holding her around the back of her shoulders and pulling her close to him. He kisses against the skin of her collarbone and then her neck, and then her lips when she gets close enough. “Bloody brilliant.”

  She hums against his kiss, continuing to lazily move her hips against his as she comes down from the high they chased together. “Agreed.”

  He lets out a soft laugh and asks, “worth blaspheming a man of the cloth?” 

  “For me? Absolutely,” she confirms, giggling and hugging him tighter, squeezing his hips with her thighs. “For you?” 

  Be hums thoughtfully. “Aye. Being with the woman I love is all that I need.”

  It’s true, what he tells her that night. He sends his resignation via email in the middle of the night, packing his things while she watches but too tired from their second go round to help him. They leave for Boston the next morning, before anyone can ask questions. He had asked her questions, of course, like whether she would miss Storybrooke or her family. She informed him that she simply came for a job and has no family to speak of, aside from him. And so they travel to Boston, building a life together that’s exactly as they want it.

~~~~

~~~~  

[bold-writing]

The One With Silver Scars || 1 || Prologue

Summary: Adelais Benoit knew that she wasn't normal. Her upbringing, her sanity, her reaction be being abducted by the monochrome man; it set her apart from what the world would consider normal. However, her abnormalities may finally play in her favour for once in her life. Blackmailed into her cousin's birthday party, she will soon realize her differences. 

Words: 4000+

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, swearing, violence, kidnapping. Does Dennis count?

A/N: Also available on AO3, Wattpad and FF.Net under the same name.

Next

~ 1 ~

Adelais sat at the end of her bed, hunched and fatigued, as she looked across the small space between her and the cheap mirror mounted on her wall. Her dark blonde hair was washed, brushed and braided back in a neat, meticulous French plait that her mother had been sure to inspect for loose strands or uneven lines. Once she had deemed it perfect, she had sent Adelais to her room to finish getting ready. She used cover-up to hide the dark shadows beneath her eyes from lack of sleep, thankfully matching with her ungodly pale skin tone. Adding just enough eyeliner and mascara for her mother to approve, she looked more put together and tidy than she had remembering being in months.

She never left the house; her parents had assigned her to online courses at the nearby university, stating that she had agoraphobia and therefore could not attend classes in person. There was no escape from her parents; the invisible chain around her throat was too tight to pull off, too strong to break.

“Your uncle will be here soon,” her mother’s voice came through the door suddenly. It surprised the young woman that she hadn’t just walked in like she normally would. “You better get out here and show me that you’re presentable.”

Presentable. Of course. Couldn’t have the child most people didn’t even know they had embarrassing them. Rising from her bed, Adelais glanced at her reflection in the mirror one more time. It was cold enough outside that she was able to get away with wearing a scarf and sweater over her other clothes; her black jeans stretched over long, thin legs and her modestly heeled ankle boots gave her even greater height than she already had. They were considered to be her ‘public’ clothes, the ones that were saved only for when her parents were letting her leave the house.

The green eyes of her reflection stared back at her, murky and dull. She had nothing on her to carry; no phone, no wallet, no keys. So, with only the clothes covering her, Adelais walked out of her room to meet her mother for inspection.

Her father was sitting in front of the fireplace while reading the newspaper, but he glanced up at her with calculating eyes as soon as she emerged from the dark hallway. Her mother, however, had been waiting expectantly with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face. “That took you too long. When I tell you to come out, you come out.”

“I’m sorry, it won’t happen again,” Adelais promised dully, lacking any true emotion in her voice. Once upon a time, it would have trembled in fear at the thought of a possible punishment. Now, she couldn’t feel any fear through her numbed soul.

Her mother glared critically at her before she walked forward and forced Adelais’s head down so she could double-check her braid. Then she snapped her jaw back up, her small, thin fingers holding surprising strength, and looked over the light layer of makeup on her daughter’s face. Her gaze lingered a moment longer on the cover-up beneath her eyes, but she said nothing about it and proceeded to go over her clothing. Her scarf was tightened around her neck and her charcoal grey sweater was straightened and pulled lower at her wrists and waist. Forcing Adelais to turn in a slow circle, eyes taking in every detail of her, she gave a critical, but approving nod just as a horn sounded from outside 

“That’s your uncle and cousin. Now, you will be polite and speak when spoken to, but otherwise I want you to be silent. Am I understood?”

“Yes, mother,” Adelais responded automatically. 

Turning on her heel and marching toward the front door, Adelais followed without a word—already knowing what she was expected to do. Her father watched her pass with a glare, eyes barely cusped over the newspaper. “So help me god, if you break those rules…” he warned cryptically, turning eyes gaze back to his reading as her mother pulled open the door to greet her younger brother.

“My, Adelais, you’ve gotten so big!” he cheered in surprise, stepping forward to give her a hug. Adelais did her best not to tense up at the action and lifted on hand to rest on his back, giving the illusion of returning the embrace. She offered a tight smile as he pulled back from her, looking over his niece’s appearance. Adelais could feel her mother burning holes in the side of her head.

“It’s good to see you, too, uncle. How have you been?”

“Just perfect! And Claire’s very excited about her party, so I think it’s best we get going. Is that alright, Sarah?” he turned to ask Adelais’s mother, who gave a fake smile so believable that it made Adelais’s skin crawl.

“Oh course! You have fun, sweetie, alright? I’ll see you this evening.”

Adelais nodded to her mother, feeling her stomach turn at the false kindness her mother showed as she followed her uncle out toward the car. Her cousin was sitting in the back seat, talking adamantly with a dark skinned girl that must have been a close friend of hers. They both turned to look when her father and older cousin approached the car, Adelais walking around onto the street to get into the passenger side.

“Claire, you remember Adelais?” Glancing into the back as she slid into her seat, Claire’s gaze met Adelais’s briefly, her once natural smile tightening slightly. “You two haven’t really seen one another since you were kids, but your Aunt Sarah wanted Adelais to get out for a bit while she was visiting from University.”

“Yea,” Claire answered tightly. “Hi, Adelais. How’s school been?”

“Busy,” Adelais answered quietly, turning forward again as she focused on buckling herself in. “Happy Birthday, Claire.”

Claire shared an awkward look with her friend before she offered another hesitant smile. “Thanks. Glad you could come to the party.”

Adelais turned her attention passed her uncle to look at her house. Most wouldn’t be able to tell, but Adelais could make out the form of her mother standing beyond the mostly-closed blinds of their living room window. She was watching her even now, making sure that so long as Adelais was in her sights, she did as she was told.

Swallowing against a suddenly dry throat, Adelais looked down toward the glove-compartment as her uncle pulled away from the curb slowly and merged into traffic. She kept her gaze on that exact spot as they made their way into town, heading for the restaurant that had been reserved for Claire. She listened as her younger cousin rattled on about who was coming, whispering to her friend about how she couldn’t believe they had invited the ‘emo girl’. Adelais wasn’t sure whether or not she her father could hear her, but if he did he wasn’t saying anything.

Bitch, she cursed in her head. She forced herself to swallow the anger that rose in her chest, burning her like bile as she fought against the urge to punch the glove-compartment. Closing her eyes a moment and taking a deep breath, Adelais forced herself to push aside the anger and vengeful thoughts. If she lost her cool when she was away from home, her mother would beat her into a hospital bed and never let her leave again.

“Looks like we’re not the first ones here,” her uncle stated suddenly as he pulled into a half-filled parking lot. Claire shrieked in excitement as she leaned toward the window, calling out the names of the friends she recognized from her class. Adelais flinched from the noise, the action so small that the other passengers of the car didn’t even realize she had moved.

Once the car was parked Claire and her friend piled out of the back like their asses were on fire, rushing over to a small group of other girls that were also shrieking at an ungodly volume.  “Hey, Adelais, mind giving me a hand carrying in some gifts?” Knowing better than to refuse, Adelais nodded silently and let him load gift bags into her arms, picking up what she guessed to be a cake before he closed the trunk of the car.

Some strange looks were thrown her way from the girls that Claire was talking with, but Adelais paid it no mind as she walked with her uncle into the restaurant.

Adelais put the presents down where the rest were already clustered on the table, bright pink wrapping paper glaringly obvious in the large room. Claire and her classmates steadily filed in, the sound volume of the room skyrocketing because of it. “I know it’s a bit awkward since you don’t know anyone here,” her uncle started, keeping his voice low as he stood next to Adelais, “and you’re a bit older than these girls. Just stay close to me, the adults need to stick together.”

The kind smile that he offered her was a true one, not like her mother’s fake smiles. However, as honest as his kindness seemed to be, it made Adelais’s skin crawl with discomfort. She couldn’t even count on one hand the number of times she’s received kindness from anyone.

“Thank you, uncle.”

“Ah, just call me John,” he advised with a wave of his hand. “You’re not a little girl anymore, seems strange to hear you call me ‘uncle’.”

Adelais nodded her head slowly. “John,” she repeated, getting another smile before he excused himself to go and try and corral the clusters of teenagers. Adelais had been able to pick up that it was Claire’s art class that had been invited—all of whom were her friends, except for the one they had called the ‘emo girl’ on the way over.

Even as far back as she was from everyone, keeping her distance as she sat at one of the farther tables where John had placed his coat and keys, Adelais could pinpoint exactly who the odd-one-out was when she arrived. The other girls were dressed quite fashionably, most of them wearing a shirt that was probably more money than the other girl’s entire outfit. Adelais’s keen eyes examined the brunette when she arrived; simple pants and boots with several layers of shirts and sweaters on top—the last one being an oversized plaid sweater.

She did not seem enthused about being there, immediately stepping away from everyone else as she fidgeted with the hems of her sleeves. Claire was polite enough to greet her and thank her for coming, but after that the new girl blended quite effectively into the background. Adelais knew the feeling; wanting to disappear and pretend you weren’t there. Kind of like the childish ‘if I can’t see you, you can’t see me’ kind of thing.

It never actually worked.

The brunette’s dark eyes lifted to meet with Adelais’s suddenly, both women wearing no expression or emotion as they stared across the room at one another. Green eyes narrowed. She looked nothing like the younger girl, yet it was frightfully similar to how she had looked into the mirror only an hour before. The brunette looked away first, taking a seat near the window so Adelais could still see half of her face, lacking true expression.

It was a long couple of hours, remaining at the table with John as the rest of the girls laughed and yelled. They were served by the staff at the restaurant, catered to and cleaned up after. Adelais’s hands were gripping the end of her scarf in a white knuckled grip as time wore on, John chatting away across their table as he told her stories about family events that neither she nor her parents could attend.

Shut up. Shut up shut up shut up.

A waiter walked passed them with a stack of dirty dishes, raising the pile higher so there was no chance of him bumping John as he spoke adamantly of their last summer barbeque. A steak knife, teetering on the edge, drew Adelais’s attention. What if it were to fall? It was too close to kill him, but it would certainly hurt him and that would call off the birthday party. He was her ride, so she wouldn’t have to go home.

However, even if it wasn’t her fault, her mother would be furious if she wasn’t back by that evening as she had agreed.

Looking away from the waiter as he continued toward the kitchen, Adelais took a shuddering breath and turned her focus to the brunette from earlier; Casey, as she had overheard from some of the other classmates, had not moved from her seat any more than Adelais had.

“Are you alright?”

Looking back to John, Adelais realized that she had been glaring in concentration at the younger girl without knowing. “Yes, sorry, just a bit of a headache. Not used to teenagers, I guess,” she lied quickly—well, not entirely, since the unnecessary yelling from the group was starting to make her temples throb uncomfortably.

“Ah, right. I guess your classes at the university are more controlled, hm?”

Adelais twitched in annoyance to have him trying to actually make her talk, but she knew that it would be both rude and suspicious not to answer. So, she commenced with telling him an intricate weaving of lies, some of which her mother had orchestrated while other bits were thrown in just to make it sound real. “And you know mom,” she finished, “she likes quiet.”

John laughed as he nodded in understanding—it made Adelais want to sneer. He had no idea. “Yea, she’s always been someone to stay inside and read a book.”

He was called away before he could try and continue the conversation, Claire demanding that he take a picture of them all before some people needed to be heading home. Adelais remained where she was, thankfully out of the frame of the shot, as she watched the teenagers cluster together and smile at the camera. Casey had been drawn in as well, most likely out of obligation alone, but she didn’t smile as the flash from the camera went off.

The last hour of the party gave Adelais an excuse not to talk to John; she was collecting Claire’s presents and helping the staff put food into take-away containers. The discomfort behind her temples was blooming into a full-blown headache from the noise, yet Adelais was also beginning to feel the ache in her chest as she thought about returning home. Which was worse? The room full of snotty, noisy teenagers or her parents?

Lifting a hand to her neck and massaging the tender skin beneath her scarf and shirt, she figured that a pounding migraine was better than going home.

“Adelais, why don’t we get one with you in the shot?” John suggested as Marcia and Claire stood together for another picture, taken with Claire’s cellphone.

She stood frozen for a moment, trying to think of a way to get out of it, but Claire went along to appease her father and ushered Adelais over to stand closer to the windows, in the sunlight. She grabbed Adelais’s forearm to pull her along, forcing the taller blonde to repress a noise of pain as she gripped directly over a healing bruise.

Standing on Claire’s right with Marcia on the left, she mimicked the same fake smile she had used for most of the day as the camera flashed again, leaving a splotch in her vision. She stepped aside and tried to blink it away as Marcia pulled Claire away to say goodbye to the last girls there. Casey was a few yards to Adelais’s right, her cellphone to her ear as she seemed to be waiting for it to stop ringing.

However, as Adelais looked to the screen of the cellphone, she could see that it was not on a call screen at all, but the home screen.

She was faking the call.

Turning away before Casey could notice, the blonde went over to pick up an armful of presents as John handed Marcia a stack of take-away containers. “Did you at least enjoy yourself?” John asked as he helped drape one of the present bags over her arm, once more pressing on the bruise.

“I did, John, I promise. It was nice to get out of the house for a while.”

“I’m sure you’re still excited to go home,” John urged on, turning to his daughter. “These teenagers can be exhausting.”

“Hey,” Claire protested at her father’s teasing dig. The light, playful banter between father and daughter made Adelais frown for a moment before she controlled her expression. They attention soon turned to Casey, however, who Adelais noticed had switched her phone to her other ear so they couldn’t see the screen. “That’s what happens when you do a mercy invite.”

“I believed you wanted to invite everyone,” John pointed out, looking to his daughter with a faint frown.

Claire gave her father a look, one that Adelais knew would only lead to a beating if she ever dared to do such a thing. “Dad, I can’t invite everyone in my art class except for one person, without social network inflicting more pain on that person than was intended. And I’m not a monster.” Claire’s response only made Adelais hate her more, yet she also had a strong suspicion that Casey was also selfish and had only come to the party to escape something.

Or someone.

“I’m proud of you. I think,” John answered.

I hate you all.

“She gets detention a lot, and she yells at teachers sometimes. And there was that rumour that went around that she just kept running away from home.” The more that Claire spoke, the more Adelais felt like she was dying on the inside. She knew those signs; when she had been younger than Casey is, she had been the one exhibiting them. Up until her parents had learned how to keep a handle on her and model her to be the perfect, fake daughter.

Fucking idiots.

“I seriously think she can Uber,” Marcia suggested, glancing from Claire to John.

“I really think that we can go home now-”

“I’m sorry,” John interrupted. “Did I mistakenly convey that this was a democracy? We are not going ‘til she gets picked up.” As he was speaking, Casey finally hung up from her ‘phone call’ and made her way over to meet the small group of people. Adelais was staring again, looking over the brunette with a look even more calculating and analyzing that the one when Casey had first arrived.

Dark eyes met hers briefly, that strange sensation of looking in a mirror returning.

“Uh…the car…broke down,” Casey lied hesitantly, sounding like she had struggled to come up with a valid excuse for her ride not coming. Her voice sounded rough and unused to Adelais. “I’m just gunna take the bus.”

John was already shaking his head. “You’re not taking a bus, I’m gunna drive you home. Claire has almost saved her half of the money she needs for a car, isn’t that right?” Spoiled brat. “This might be one of the few times left I can drive you guys around.” He sounded far too enthused to be willingly surrounded by the annoyance that was his daughter and her friends.

Adelais looked away from them and forced herself to take calming breaths.

Idiots. Idiots, idiots, idiots.

Casey finally agreed after Claire threw in a pathetic excuse about dad jokes. “It’ll be a bit of a tight squeeze,” John explained as they finally turned to leave. “You’ll have to get in the back with Claire and Marcia; I don’t think we’d be able to fit Adelais in the back, she’s too long.” He smiled at his own joke as he looked over to Adelais, who gave a pinched smile. “You got your height from your father. Sarah’s a short little thing.”

“Yea, I’ve been told,” she responded lowly, opening the door with her hip and holding it for the others to leave.

The cold air was a nice reprieve after having sat inside with Claire’s art class. John took the lead with Claire and Marcia just behind, Casey and Adelais bringing up the back of the pack. Casey discretely glanced at Adelais from the corner of her eye, taking in the blank expression on the older woman’s pale face. Some of the cover-up beneath her eyes had faded, showing the shadows of insomnia that marked her, and a strand of dark blonde hair had slipped from the braid at the top of her head to fall down and frame one of her dulled green eyes.

When said eyes flicked over to meet her gaze, Casey held them for a moment before looking away.

No words were exchanged, yet there was a silent understanding that passed between the two as they approached John’s car. Marcia handed over the food before she and Claire slipped into the back seat, chatting away while completely ignoring the others presence. Casey didn’t seem to mind, however, and rounded to the other side of the car while sliding into the free seat in the back.

Adelais put the bags down on the ground as John opened the trunk; it was empty after they had taken the cake and presents out earlier, leaving lots of room for Claire’s ridiculous amount of presents. “You can lay the presents down further to the back if you want,” John offered as he turned to take the food he had placed to the left of them.

Picking up the larger of the bags, Adelais leaned over the truck to slide it as far back into the truck as she could manage, leaving plenty of room for the rest. “Can I help you?” John asked suddenly, speaking to someone else as Adelais pulled away from the trunk while carefully ducking her head so as not to bang it on the metal.

The sudden hiss of what sounded like an aerosol can caused her to pause, inhaling delicately. Like sugar and chemical cleaner. Her eyebrows pinched in a frown for a moment; she could swear she knew that scent from somewhere.

“You little brat, when I tell you to sleep, you sleep!”

Adelais’s mouth went dry when she remembered where she’d encountered that smell before. Turning to look over her shoulder, the figure standing just behind her was definitely not her uncle. Shaved head, glasses, and a serious look contorting his features like a scowl, Adelais did nothing more than stare for a moment as her heart began to beat faster in her chest. Blue eyes, pale skin, a shaving nick near the left ear, ironed shirt—all grey.

Her eyes darted down to the small can he was holding, the one she had just heard. At his feet, John lay motionless with the food containers tipped beside him. It left a mess on the concrete. He’d made a mess.

Looking up again, the man’s blue eyes had hardened as they watched her. He was large���not quite twice her size due to her bizarre height, but she could see the muscle definition in his arms and neck. She didn’t have experience running, always locked inside an enclose space, so she knew he would be faster than her. She was also still sore, and therefore wouldn’t be effective with defending herself.

Releasing a long, tired breath, Adelais let her eyes fall closed in resignation.

The hiss of aerosol can sounded again, followed by the sugar and chemical smell as her face was sprayed. Her lungs reluctantly inhaled the fumes, immediately taking effect and leaving her dizzy. Gravity pulled her down, causing her body to tip backward toward the concrete. Strong hands caught her before she could make contact, hoisting her up as the weightless feeling of her body disappeared into the abyss of her mind.

Next

[sinsatmidnight]

Cream

Pairing - Irene (Bae Joohyun) x Male Reader

Words - 2293

Sins - Smut, clothed sex, mutual masturbation

So it’s probably past Irene’s birthday already in all time zones, going by KST I’m about 13-14 hours late to post this during March 29, but a belated happy birthday to Bae Joohyun anyway! So I decided to write two works of her as a birthday special. The first is here, and the second is a female reader insert with a different plot that also ties in with the birthday theme, but that one will be up later as I rushed to finish at least one ASAP. I’m of course, still working on other works as well!

Birthday gifts. They’re one of the hardest things to find in the world. At least, they are if you care about the reaction of the person receiving it. And when that person is the love of your life, you care a lot. Of course, they’re hard enough to get for most people. When your girlfriend is a businesswoman rich enough to buy damn near anything she could possibly want, it just gets harder.

Two whole months before her birthday, you started looking for gifts. Weeks of trawling online shopping websites and apps gave you nothing. And so, you went out. Went into malls and shops and listened to recommendations from people selling shoes, dresses, gems and more. Didn’t find anything that felt right. About a week before a birthday, you finally settled on something. You would have to personally make the gift for her.

Which explains why you were in the kitchen baking a red velvet cake on the morning of your girlfriend’s birthday. You knew that her favourite type of cake was red velvet and you spent a lot of timing poring over online recipes to select what would hopefully be the best one. Will she like it? You certainly hope so.

You lived together but she was out working, so you had the house to yourself. You were done by lunch, so you spent some time after lunch getting some chores done, cleaning the house and such. And then you prepared dinner and packed it up for your girlfriend, Irene. She had earlier told you that she would be working late. And that is why you packed the cake in a box and bringing along with the food for dinner, dropped by her company to surprise her.

You eventually arrive at her company, navigating your way through the offices and workspaces. You find the rest of her entirely female team working outside her office. You know them well and have met them on many occasions. You gently knock a couple times on a desk. The four young women look up from their computers.

“Oh, you’re here for Irene? She’s in her office.”

“Sorry ladies, can I borrow her for about forty-five minutes? It’s her birthday, I baked her a cake and she hasn’t had dinner.”

The four of them shoo you towards Irene’s office. “Yeah, we know. Go, we won’t disturb you for a bit, don’t worry!”

“Thanks girls.”

You walk over to Irene’s office and knock on the door.

“Is that you Joy? Come in.” You hear your girlfriend’s voice, a little muffled by the door, mistaking you for one of her subordinates outside. You open the door and walk in, closing it shut behind you. You stand at the door, looking at Irene reading some sort of document with her back to you.

You’ve always wondered you have been lucky enough to have such a wonderful woman as your girlfriend. Irene turns heads. All heads. She’s not tall but knows how to make her legs look long and the word most people use to describe her face is ‘goddess’. Large eyes, fair skin, long sharp nose, long smooth dark hair. The fact that she’s a tough as nails businesswoman who’s very sweet in private only adds to her charm.

Irene’s dressed simply today, just a simple long-sleeved white shirt and short pink skirt plus heels of the same colour today. The skirt has a slit at the side that shows you more of those smooth thighs you enjoy caressing so much, a detail which you appreciate. But she’s gorgeous no matter what she wears, and even when she’s wearing nothing at all.

“Joy, do you have the- “

Irene’s voice stops short as she realises that her boyfriend has just walked in. Her mouth opens a little in surprise, but she recovers quickly and a smile graces those incredibly kissable red lips of hers.

“What are you doing here, baby?”

You raise the bag that contains the food you prepared for her. “Hi, bae. I brought dinner.” You call her “bae” as an affectionate nickname, but mostly because it’s a play on her surname of “Bae”. You’re the only person in the world she allows to call her that. And only in private.

Irene walks over to you and glances at the large box you’re carrying. “And that?”

“It’s cake, don’t tell me you forgot it’s your birthday today!”

“Oh, where did you buy it from? There’s no branding on the box.”

You grin and pass the box into Irene’s hands. “I didn’t buy it. I baked it this morning.” Irene’s face brightens. “You baked it?” She opens the box and looks inside. “And it’s red velvet cake too.” She doesn’t say anymore, but you can tell that she’s happy.

You bring the food over to a glass coffee table at a seating area that Irene uses when hosting guests in her office. Irene follows you and sits down on a red couch as you unpack all the food. She goes for the cake first though, taking a few bites of it. As she eats, you stand behind the couch and lean over, massaging her shoulders. Irene sighs in contentment.

“Long day?”

She nods as your fingers squeeze her shoulder muscles. You can feel her relaxing under your hands.

“What about you?”

“Just baking and cooking. A bit of this and that. Nothing too bad. Nothing compared to you, I’m sure.”

“Working in the house can be tiring too. The cake’s really good, by the way. But it’s missing a little something.”

“Like what?” Feedback was good, you could take it and make something better for her next time. Irene turns her head to the side, half-facing you. “I think it could use some cream.”

You furrow your brow at this. There was already a healthy amount of cream on the surface of the cake. “But there’s already-ah.” Irene chose that moment to have one of her hands reach out to one of your hands, guide it off her shoulder and bring it to her mouth. You were completely distracted and didn’t resist, barely noticing that it happened.

And then Irene starts to slide one of your fingers in and out of her warm and wet mouth, her tongue brushing against the underside of it every time it slides in. You watch for a good thirty seconds or so before she then turns to face you fully and stands up. There is a dark glint in her eyes. You know this look. You watch her undo the top three buttons of her shirt, giving you glimpses of the lacy white bra she’s wearing today.

Oh, you know what kind of cream she wants from you now. You can feel yourself start to harden down below.

Irene wordlessly reaches out with one hand, grabs your collar and pulls you in to smash her lips against yours. Her tongue pushes past any resistance from your lips, overpowering your tongue in moments. Her kiss is sweet; the taste of the red velvet cake you baked lingers on her tongue and in her mouth.

Still joined at the mouth, you climb over the couch, stepping on it as you make your way to be on the same side as Irene. Once there, one of your hands reflexively finds its way to a butt cheek and squeezes it while you wrap your other arm around her waist. Irene moans softly into your kiss. When you finally break the kiss, Irene and you stare into each other’s eyes for a moment. And then she wraps her arms around your neck, holding onto your shoulders, hugging you close and whispers into your ear.

“Let’s make this quick; I still need to have dinner and work after this.”

“The door’s not locked.” You try to pull away to go to the door and lock it but Irene holds you back.

“I don’t care. Now.”

You nod and Irene wraps her legs around your waist as you carry her over to a mostly empty table at the side of the room. You sit her down on it and her legs release their grip on your waist. One of your hands runs up along her legs and sneaks inside her skirt between her thighs.

As your fingers caress her smooth inner thighs, Irene has one of her hands massage the growing bulge in your pants for a bit before she unzips them and has her hand slip inside your pants. Your fingers reach the lacy fabric of the G-string thong she’s wearing, her fingers find purchase on the waistband of your underwear. Irene’s always loved wearing G-string underwear, they make her feel sexy and in her own words, “she loves the feeling of something between her ass cheeks”.

You slip your fingers around the thin barrier of the thong and into Irene’s slick pussy, she shivers and bites her lower lip. Her fingers respond in kind, and they pull down the cloth that kept your erection imprisoned. Irene starts to stroke your cock with one hand, gentle and slow for now. Your thumb gently teases Irene’s clitoris and your other hands journeys into her partially unbuttoned shirt, diving beneath the bra to find a hardened nipple. You roll it between two fingers even as another two fingers bend and wriggle down below.

Irene starts increasing the speed of her handjob, stroking ever faster, urged on by your hands. On your part, you start to piston your fingers into her dripping core as best as you can within the confines of her tight skirt. Irene can’t hold back and starts to moan louder; you frantically send your hand from her breast over to cover her mouth to muffle her. Her subordinates are working just outside; you prefer to keep it quiet.

After a good minute or so of muffled moaning into your hand, Irene uses her free hand to pull yours off her mouth. She stares at you with a dark lust clouding her face. “Fuck me.”

You scramble to oblige. Your fingers leave Irene’s pussy, drawing a soft mewl of desire from her, and they grab hold of her panties to pull them down her legs. Once they reach the ankles, Irene has one heeled foot slip out of them and she leaves the underwear dangling from the other ankle. She unclasps her skirt to loosen it and make it easier to hike it up her thighs to give your cock access to her wet cunt.

You pull Irene closer to you, sitting her on the edge of the table, spread her legs as widely as you possibly can with her skirt still on, and then you slide your cock inside of her. Irene’s tight, wet pussy is a familiar feeling, but it only gets better the more you’re inside her.

Your hips start to piston and your cock pounds as deep as you can manage into Irene’s pussy. One of Irene’s most sensitive spots is her neck, so you bury your face into her neck and take in the scent of her perfume. You taste the slight bit of sweat that has formed on her skin. Your licking and nibbling has Irene loudly groaning again so your mouth kisses its way up her neck until you find her lips and muffle her mouth with yours.

You can feel your climax approaching but Irene’s comes first as she suddenly goes still, and her nails threaten to tear your shirt as her fingers clench around your shoulders. The warm rush of Irene’s juices flowing around your cock combined with her pussy walls constricting your cock sends you over the edge and you also unload a few spurts into her without warning, mixing your cum with hers.

The two of you take a few moments to recover, each peppering the other with soft kisses all over the other’s skin as you do so. When you finally pull out, Irene slides herself off the edge of the table to get on her knees and starts to clean your cock by sucking it clean of your mixed cum.

“There’s not much cream here.” Irene pouts cutely after she finishes with your shaft.

You can only chuckle at that as you slip your spent cock back into your pants. “Happy birthday, Joohyun.”

Irene flashes you a wide smile as she gets back to her feet and slips her thong back on. “Thank you, for everything that you do, baby. You should go home and rest…” She leans and breathes into your ear. “…you also owe me more cream tonight, I’m not satisfied.”

You help Irene button her shirt and give her a peck on the cheek and whisper back. “I feed you cream for skincare and food nearly every night, when will you ever be satisfied?” You step back and wave goodbye to her. “Make sure you have your dinner before you go back to work, okay? I’ll see you at home tonight.”

You turn back for a last look at Irene as you reach the door and her lips mouth the word ‘Never’ very slyly at you. You laugh and push the door open. And walk straight into all four of Irene’s subordinates standing outside the room with very flush faces. You intuitively gather that they’ve been listening in.

“Good night everyone, don’t work too late tonight. I’ll be off now.” To spare both you and the ladies awkwardness, you quickly excuse yourself and walk hurriedly to the elevator.

Once you are alone in the elevator, your thoughts turn to home. Looks like you’ll be giving Irene an additional birthday gift of cream tonight. It turns out that you didn’t need to look very far to find the perfect birthday gift for your girlfriend.