#going to try to not impulsively buy this bra

[digital-domain]

Curiosity, the Killer

Mahito x Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Synopsis: You went out tonight hoping to connect with a stranger. And technically, you did… after you got home. After he broke into your apartment and cornered you in the bathroom. Good luck getting rid of him - he’s not one to control his impulses. Especially when he’s feeling curious.

Tags: dark content, noncon, death threats, talk of murder, extreme possessiveness, general rough handling, biting, hair pulling, painful sex, creampie, mahito being a pervy lil pantie sniffer

Note: Might do a part two…my brain is rotting.

You slip through the front door of your apartment, kicking off your shoes the moment it shuts behind you. Tonight did not go as you’d hoped - although to be fair, you had an active imagination, and tended to set your hopes too high. In your mind, each time you went out was a potential first chapter to one of the guilty-pleasure novels you read (and sometimes, even attempted to write) in your spare time. A beautiful stranger would compliment your dress, offer to buy you a drink, dance with you where everyone could see, kiss you on the floor, take you home…

None of that had happened tonight. The closest you’d gotten was when a ridiculously drunk college student had thrust a shot of vodka in your face. You’d dodged, but you can still smell the splash of liquor that had landed on your dress.

You’d been with a crowd of friends - maybe that was the problem. None of them had been approached either, although a couple had left with guys they’d met on dating apps earlier this weekend. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe the idea of meeting someone in the real world had become a fantasy long ago. Maybe you were stupid to still believe in it.

In any case…the night is over. And with nothing to excite you, nothing to capture your imagination, sleep is beginning to take hold. You don’t let it catch you just yet - you make your way to the bathroom, and scrub at the makeup on your face until you’re back in your bare skin. The bathroom light flickers, and you make a mental note to change the bulb tomorrow. Not tonight - you’re too tired, and with your luck, it would probably end up shattered on the floor.

For a moment, you stare at yourself in the mirror. The simple, form-fitting black dress you wore tonight is one of your favorites. It makes you feel confident - beautiful, even. You let yourself appreciate it for a while before you finally reach for the zipper, contorting your arm to pull it down your back. A second later, the fabric hits the floor with finality, and you turn on the shower.

While you wait for the water to warm up, your eyes briefly flutter shut. Before you open them, before you take off your bra and underwear and step into your warm shower, you allow yourself just a moment to imagine what might have been. You sigh with longing, and wrap your arms tightly around your waist.

Then, at your weakest moment - a second pair of arms envelops your own.

You try to whip around, but they hold you fast, allowing you to turn just enough to get a glimpse of the intruder in the mirror, and to see a third hand clamp down over your mouth, dampening your scream before it makes it out of your throat. It’s a man, you think, but nothing about his appearance makes sense. The face you saw in the mirror isn’t right. It’s human, but covered in very un-human stitches, a patchwork that doesn’t quite add up when it’s all put together. When you look down, you see that his hand and arms are covered in them, too. And the hands…you saw three. You feel three digging into your skin. That doesn’t make sense. It’s not right. Again, you try to cry out, thrashing wildly in his arms as he presses into you.

He leans down, and flicks his tongue over your ear. “Hi. You just let me know when you’re done, okay?”

A fresh ripple of terror runs through you, because he sounds nothing like you expected. His voice is high-pitched and gleeful, far too casual for such a terrifying situation. You squirm against his grip, but it holds fast. You try to scream, again and again, until you finally accept that the seal on your mouth isn’t going to break, that the shower will obscure any sound that you do manage to make. You breathe shallowly, a black haze begins to obscure your vision. His palm is warm, damp, and smells worse than the stain on your dress.

“Are you done?” He laughs - actually giggles, like what he’s doing is nothing more than harmless fun. “Well, I guess you can’t really tell me. But you can nod your head if you are.”

You shake your head vigorously, trying desperately to tear your face from his grasp.

He sighs, exasperated. “If you don’t cut it out soon, I’m gonna have to kill you.”

At this, you freeze, too petrified to move an inch more.

“I don’t want you to die,” he continues, a petulant tone slipping into his voice. “I’ve got other plans. But I can’t just stand here covering your mouth all night.” He presses his face into the crook of your neck, lips scraping against your exposed skin. “I know you don’t really know what you’re dealing with,” he mutters. “But trust me… you would be really easy to kill. I just have to do this.” A fourth unseen hand juts out from behind you and wraps around your neck. The fingernails on this hand are long, and unnaturally sharp. Sharp enough to break your skin with ease. “It’s easy from here. All I have to do is squeeze, or slice…either way, you’ll die!”

What is this thing? You’d like to believe that you’re hallucinating, but the nails tapping against your skin feel far too real.

“If I let go of you,” he explains, “I need to know that you’re not gonna scream or try to run away. I want this to be a nice night for us. It’s not gonna be nice if I have to spend it killing the people that come running to save you. I don’t wanna be distracted.” He kisses you gently on the neck, and a chill runs down your spine.

The way he’s talking…it sounds like he actually thinks he’s being sweet. You’d be less terrified if he was self-aware. If he knew what a terrible thing he was doing.

He nuzzles his face against your hair, inhaling deeply as he raises a sharp nailed finger to caress the line of your jaw. “You looked so lonely tonight,” he sighs. “I noticed it right away.”

You stiffen. He’s so deep in his delusion that he seems to have lost all grasp on reality - but he’s right about the loneliness. What, and how, does he know?

“Even with all your friends around you,” he sighs. “So miserable. Like you were waiting for someone special, and they never came.”

Everything. He knows everything. He’s had his eye on you for hours…if not longer.

“You won’t be lonely anymore if you’re good for me,” he murmurs. “And you’ll be alive.” His teeth grind into your neck, gnawing away like a dog on a bone, and your body tenses at the sudden pain. “Come on,” he whines, his voice muffled by the pinch of skin still locked between his jaws. “Just promise to be good - just nod your head…”

What choice do you have? Even if there is some other choice, your mind is too scrambled to think of it. Too confused by all the impossibilities you’ve just witnessed, still reeling from the revelation that he’s been watching you all night. Later, you’ll try to work out how he managed to enter your home, but that’s not on your mind right now - not when your life depends on a single quick decision. You nod, and when his hands slip from your face and neck a moment later, you don’t make a sound.

“Good job!” The arms around your waist squeeze you tighter, and you hear the other pair clapping in celebration behind you. “I was worried you were gonna do something stupid. I’m glad you didn’t…I’ve got such exciting plans for you. I’d be so sad if I didn’t get to use them.” He drops his arms from your waist. “Turn around. I wanna see you.”

Slowly, stiffly, you turn to face him. The third and fourth arm have somehow disappeared - he looks human now, save for the stitches running across his skin. He’s got long hair, colored a light blue. For some reason, you don’t think it’s dyed. With everything you’ve just seen, unnatural hair doesn’t seem out of the question. His eyes are mismatched - one is blue, the other grey. They’re striking, shining with a bright intensity that almost makes you want to look away.

His left hand latches onto your waist, and the right twists through your hair. “You’re pretty on the outside,” he whispers, bringing his face so close to yours that you go cross-eyed. “On the inside…you’re the same as the rest. But I don’t care about that right now.” He pulls on your hair, practically humming in excitement as you cry out. “Or maybe I do. All your silly, stupid little human desires…they’re the reason you looked so miserable tonight, aren’t they? You wanted something - or someone.” He yanks your head up and down, forcing you to nod in agreement. “I know I’m right. You were looking for another human to…how do you phrase it? To sleep with?” He smiles, his eyes stretched grotesquely wide. “So many of you have that same desire…I’ve been trying to understand it. It’s been killing me, all the wanting, the not knowing. But then I realized - if I want to understand, all I have to do is try it out!”

He pulls you into a rough, sloppy kiss, and your eyelids shut, squeezing out the tears that have gathered beneath them. You don’t want to do this. The way he’s been talking makes you feel like a specimen under a microscope - or a lab rat in a cage. When it ends…will he let me go? For a split second, you see an image of your body lying cold and lifeless beneath your bedsheets. Your eyes snap open, and you see that his already are.

“Mmm.” His eyes are narrowed, his lips pulled into a grin just a bit too wide for his face. “I made a good choice…I like you. You get even prettier when you’re scared.” Without warning, bends down, grabs both of your ankles, and yanks you off your feet. Your ears ring painfully as he drags you out of the bathroom, across the hall, shouldering open the door that leads to your bedroom. He kicks it shut behind him. Then, he pulls you into the air, dangling your body carelessly in front of him. You squirm and thrash, caught like a fish on a line.

Carefully, he makes his way across the room, and deposits you on your bed, laying you down on your back. Before you can sit up, he’s kneeling on top of you, one leg on either side of your stomach, his body pinning you to your mattress. He pulls off his shirt, drops it to the floor, and tumbles forward, his stitch-covered chest slapping against yours as his tongue darts into your mouth, exploring every inch of the space inside. When he pulls back, he’s panting like a predator at the end of a chase, eyes lidded, tongue lolling from his mouth and coated in drool. “I like this. I can’t believe I waited so long to try it.”

A whimper escapes from your lips as he slides his hands across your chest and rips your bra down the middle. He gropes you freely, squeezing and pinching until you’re crying out in pain.

“You make such cute sounds,” he whispers, taking a break from his assault to brush your hair back from your face. He squeezes your cheeks between his hands, forcing your lips to pucker, paying no mind to the glare in your eyes. “Adorable.” He grabs your wrists, pinning them to your side, and slithers down the length of your body, settling between your legs. You feel an unwelcome rush of heat to your core as he buries his nose and lips in your panties, his grip on your wrists tightening painfully as he inhales. “You even smell good,” he sighs, his muffled voice vibrating up your spine. “Do you smell like this all the time? Or is it a special scent? Does it mean you want me inside you?”

“I don’t want you.” The words spill out before you can reel them in.

“Sure you do.” His tongue darts from his mouth, and slides greedily over your cunt, the thin fabric stretched over it doing nothing to dull the sensation. “I know how your body works. I know what it means when you get all warm and wet…” He raises his face, and grins up at you. “You’re ready for me. And I’ve been ready for you for a very long time.” He grasps your panties in his teeth, and jerks his head, tearing a massive hole that leaves your cunt completely exposed. “I’ve been so curious. So desperate to know what it feels like. Why you all want it so badly…”

His body slides up over yours; he gathers your wrists in one hand and pins them over your head. The other hand yanks at the waist of his pants, pulling them down just enough for his cock to spring free. “Keep your eyes open,” he hisses, the tip of his cock already pressed to your entrance. “You’re mine. My favorite little experiment. I wanna know how I makes you feel.”

Your mouth falls open as he thrusts into you - it’s too much, too big, too fast, and you hear yourself cry out in pain as your eyes involuntarily snap shut. A second later, a rough pair of fingers tug at your eyelids, forcing them open. The face of your captor bears down upon you, eyes alight with sickening pleasure.

“Does it hurt?”

You nod quickly, tears already building up in the corners of your vision.

“Awww.” He stares shamelessly into your watery eyes, the tip of his tongue sliding over his front teeth as he presses into you. “You’re pretty when you cry, too.” His thrusts are erratic, each one pushing deeper inside you, as if he’s testing how far he can go. As you stretch around him, the pain begins to fade, replaced by a sensation that sends your eyes rolling back, even as your stomach sinks with dread. You don’t want to enjoy this. You can’t. In vain, you attempt to free yourself, squirming desperately beneath him, contorting your trapped hands to scratch feebly at the back of his palm.

“You wanna fight? That’s so cute.” He shoves the full length of his cock inside you, cackling at the way your eyes widen in response. “So, so cute…makes me wanna keep you. Wanna see how long it takes for you to stop fighting…for you to like it…”

You try to tell yourself that he’s babbling, that he doesn’t mean any of it. That he’ll leave, that you’ll never have to see him again, that your life will go on just as it was before. It all feels like a lie. He’s insane, but he believes every word that he says. If he says he’s not letting you go…

“You feel so good.” He groans, and presses his face against your neck. “I don’t think this is gonna last much longer…but that’s okay. We’ll try again. We’ll practice until…” He gasps. “Until forever. Yeah. I’m gonna keep you forever.” His cock pulses inside of you. His hand slips from your wrists and slides under your back, locking you in a deadly embrace - as soon as your hands are free, you try to push him away, but he’s oblivious to your efforts and impossible to move, nestled securely against you as his cum gushes deep into your cunt. He stays where he is for many, many painful seconds, only pulling away when he’s gone soft inside you. Then, he turns you onto your side, and wraps his arms around your waist.

You let your own arms go limp. It’s too late to struggle, useless to try. Much easier to lay your head down, and surrender to the kisses peppering the back of your neck.

“All mine,” he hums, dragging his hand in loose circles over your stomach. “All mine.” He lifts his head, peers over your shoulder. “Oh, come on. Don’t look so sad.” You turn your head to look back at him, a tight knot forming in your stomach as he wipes a stray tear from your cheek. “You should be happy. You got what you wanted!” He cups your face in his hand, and smiles. “You belong to me now. And that means you’re never, ever gonna be lonely again.”

#tw: noncon #tw: dark content #jjk x reader #mahito x reader #mahito #jjk mahito #mahito x you

[bangtanflirt]

Not Like Other Girls (BONUS)

mainly fluff, with some angst and smut sprinkled in

Hoseok x Fem Reader, Mentions of Ex-Best friend Jungkook

NSFW. 18+

Premise: This is a bonus part about Hobi and Reader’s relationship that wasn’t really shown because of the time skip in the main series.

You can read the main story here:  Part 1 > Part 2 (FINAL)

Warnings: smut, implied loss of virginity, backshots lmao, internalized misogyny (but she’s unlearning it), references to Jungkook and some other idols being misogynistic assholes in this (all a work of fiction obviously, no way meant to represent these idols’ real life personalities)

____

1 month into officially dating Hoseok

You walk out with an unsure look on your face, wearing a tight black crop top with a white faux leather skirt—both impulse buys to celebrate acing your midterm last week. Your boyfriend lounges on your bed, whistling when he sees you come out.

“I think I should go change.” You say nervously, examining the outfit in the mirror.

“You don’t like it?”

“I like it a lot, but it feels too revealing.”

“You’ve worn clothes like that before, though?”

“Yeah but…that was before we were official…are you sure you’re okay with me going out in this?”

Hoseok’s bright features contort into a more serious look, “You do this a lot, you know.”

“Do what?”

“You’ve been different since we started dating—asking me for permission about things you don’t need to ask about. I haven’t said anything because I get this is your first relationship and you don’t have any experience, but it’s not supposed to be like this y/n.”

Tears start to pool around your eyes, which has Hoseok springing to his feet and cupping your face in an instant, frantically apologizing.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to be mean. Please don’t cry.”

“It’s not you. I’m just frustrated with myself. I try so hard to unlearn the mindset I grew up with, but I end up doing things like this without even realizing.”

“Hey, it’s okay. Take some deep breaths for me, you’re fine.”

Only after you calm down a bit do you talk again,

“I think what happened with Jungkook is still traumatizing me. It feels like I can’t get close to any guy without fearing what he’ll think of me if I wear a certain outfit.”

“I’m not him, y/n. It’s completely understandable that you’re still dealing with what that asshole did, but you can’t let it keep you scared forever. All I want is for you to do what makes you happy without feeling like you need to prove something, okay?”

You nod, nuzzling your head into his neck for comfort.

“Now let’s wipe these tears away so you can do your makeup and we can go have a good time, deal?”

___

3 months into dating Hoseok

“Nope. No. Absolutely not.” Hoseok scowls when you open the door to let him in for movie night.

You look down confused, not thinking anything of your T-shirt and sweatpants until he elaborates.

“Why would you ever buy a shirt with that hideous thing on it?”

You can’t help chuckle when you realize it’s the clown on your top that’s offending him. Namjoon had mentioned your boyfriend’s hatred of clowns once in passing, but you completely forgot about it until now.

You can’t help but want to tease him a bit more, “I thought you said I should wear whatever makes me happy?”

“Well I was wrong. You can wear whatever you want except that. Please take it off, I can’t look at it for a second longer!”

You burst into laughter at his dramatic face of disgust.

What you do next surprises both of you, as you proceed to take the t-shirt off right in front of him—forgetting you don’t have a bra on and leaving you standing with your chest fully exposed.

“Holy fuck.” Hoseok gulps.

Holy fuck is right. You can’t believe you just did that. In the three months you’ve been together, you hadn’t made any move to sleep with him yet. You know he wouldn’t do anything unless you initiated it first, as you’ve made it very clear you want to lose your virginity at your own pace. In all honesty, you’re scared of how sex might change things. Memories are imprinted on your mind of how Eunwoo would slut-shame the girls he’d hook up with, and how Yugyeom and Jungkook would only encourage him. Not to mention the degrading way Jungkook looked at Nayeon after they did it, like she was some cheap whore because she spread her legs for him. Hell, Yugyeom was in a relationship and he still shamed his girlfriend for letting him do certain things to her in bed—things he would simultaneously brag about to the rest of you. A nagging voice often tells you that Hoseok’s just like them: that he’ll leave after using you, and then think less of you for agreeing in the first place.

But the other voice in your head disagrees, reminding you of when you two were just friends—and the way he’d talk about the women he’d hook up with:

She was perfect but she thought I was joking when I asked her to suffocate me with her thighs. I’m so sad.

I think that girl actually sucked the soul out of my body, oh my god.

Okay I have a new fetish and I’m not going to tell any of you what it is, but just know that Geum Hee from the music department is into some very hot things that I am now also into.

If you think back on it, his words have never been shaming or degrading, nor has he been mean to any of them after. Which is why you feel like this might be fine, that you’re ready to be intimate in that way.

“Am I reading the signs correctly, this means ‘let’s fuck’ right?”

You can’t help but giggle at the blunt question.

Fuck it, you think, can’t live in fear forever.

“I’m down if you are.”

___

1 year of dating Hoseok

Sounds of skin slapping fill the air as he thrusts into you from behind. You grip the bathroom counter for stability, but it doesn’t help much considering how hard he’s going. Your body is shaking with each snap of his hips, feeling your g-spot get proper love from his cock.

“Look in the mirror” he commands, voice low and feral. You make eye contact with him in the mirror before looking down at the way his hips are moving.

“Look at yourself, baby. You look so perfect on my cock like this. God, I love you so much.”

It’s not long before you’re chanting his name like a mantra while letting your orgasm wash over you.

He takes himself out when he’s close, taking the condom off to cover your back with his white hot cum.

“I think I’m the luckiest guy in the world,” he comments before carrying you into the shower for round two.

___

2 years of dating Hoseok

“How are you so good at this? It’s not fair!” Hoseok whines in frustration, not wanting to believe he’s lost four rounds of air hockey to you.

“Babe, I’m not even that good. You’re just really bad.” You fake an empathetic look before pushing the puck into his goal another time, marking the end of the fifth round you’ve just won.

Ara and Namjoon cheer at your remark, egging you on to trash-talk your opponent, but Hoseok puts his foot down.

“Watch it babe, too much trash-talk and I’ll stop stocking up on those blueberry muffins you love.”

“You’re playing dirty!”

“Too bad!”

The bickering is switched once Ara and Namjoon start playing, now leaving you and your boyfriend to stir the pot between them.

You can’t help but smile at the way they passionately yell about game points, “They look so in love even when they’re arguing like that.”

Hoseok takes your hand into his, “I think we look like that too.”

___

3 years of dating Hoseok

The graduation ceremony ended earlier that night, and now you’re laying your head in Hoseok’s lap, watching a makeup tutorial on your phone as he plays with your hair.

“Are you okay?” You pause the video at his question, “You handled the situation amazingly, but it couldn’t have been easy seeing him again.”

“Honestly, I thought it would affect me a lot more than it did. He’s just a random guy now, no sense in wasting energy thinking about it.”

“Just when I thought you couldn’t get any more badass.”

You roll your eyes playfully, “You say that about everything I do.”

“Because it applies to everything you do.”

“I think you’re just madly in love with me.”

“I think you’re absolutely right.”

____

A/N: Let me know if you liked this! Hope you all have a wonderful day.

Tag list: @namjooncrabs​​ @starbtslove​​ @gaby-93​​ @laurynne5​

#hoseok x reader #bts fluff #bts smut #bts angst #bts x reader #hobi #nlog update #nlog drabble

[lovingviolet]

If you write nsfw I had this xaiver/reader idea. So like there was this whole sex paint made specifically so partners could do body paint and then diddle the doughnut ontop of a tarp and turn it into like a tapestry. If you don't do nsfw I have this ajax/reader and xavier/reader idea where both boys are pinning after the reader only to discover they are poly and like both of them.

thank you for requesting!

———————————————————————————————————

xavier thorpe x fem! reader

———————————————————————————————————

“where did you get this ?”

“i found it online, i’m sure we could put it to great use”

somehow you had gotten your hands on a new set of paints for xaiver. not just any kind of paint though, you had gotten him sex paint. you were scrolling aimlessly online when you came across it. it was more of an impulse purchase. you had hesitated on bringing it to him but you couldn’t let it go to waste.

“if you wanted to have sex you could’ve just told me” xavier says followed by a chuckle as he steps closer to you.

“i know but i wanted to use the paint too. we’ve never done anything like that before so i wanted to try it out” you said wrapping your arms around his neck.

xavier dipped his head down, leaving kisses down the side of your neck. “alright, if you really want to baby we can try it.. under one condition ” he pulls away just as you began to lean into his touch. he was such a tease.

“what is it?” you ask, he grabs a tarp big enough for the two of you to lay on top of and opens the box of paint.

“you have to let me hang it up in my dorm after it dries”

you thought about it for a moment. you didn’t think that anyone would be able to make out what it was. you’d be reminded of tonight’s events every time you saw it, you wouldn’t mind that.

“okay, deal” you agreed and xavier smiled. he laid everything out for the two of you as you patiently wait beside him.

after he finished setting up, he stood in front of you. placing his hands on your hips as he towered over you. “you ready?”

you nod quickly, xavier doesn’t hesitant to lean down and pulling you into a kiss.but didn’t take long for it to become heated. xavier begins to undress you with out pulling away.

you giggle into the kiss, feeling him fumble with your buttons for a bit before finally getting your shirt off. his hands trail to your back and unclips your bra, letting it fall down your arms.

he pulls away to admire your chest as if he hadn’t seen it hundreds of times before. no matter how many times you two have done it, he always stops to admire your body.

xavier pulls off his shirt to make it even before laying you down on the tarp. he instructed you to lift your hips before pulling off your bottoms.

after the both of you were completely naked he grabbed the paint. “i wanted to take the time to paint something really nice on you, but i don’t know how much longer i can wait” he chuckled

you hadn’t even noticed xavier’s growing erection until it was pressed against your thigh. “i could always buy some more for us to do it again” you suggest

“i’d like that” he smirks as he opens up the blue paint. xavier pours some onto his hand, you let out a quiet gasps as he spreads the cold paint onto your warm skin.

even though the paint was cold you couldn’t help how turned on you were. spreading the paint into xavier’s body and him doing the same to yours felt really intimate.

behind you knew it you were covered in paint and so was he. “you’ve always been a work of art but this took it to a whole other level” he teases

he kisses you again but this time it was more needy, more desperate than before. his clean hand went down to your entrance, causing you to let out a whine

“you’re so wet already” xavier says against your lips, his fingers brushing over your sensitive clit. you can only let out a moan in response causing him to smirk.

xavier enters a finger inside of you, only causing you to moan louder into the kiss. the paint already starting to smear on the tarp. you can’t help but grind against his fingers, you needed more.

xavier thrusts his fingers in and out if you at a steady pace. he was teasing you and you knew it. “p-please xavier” you whine and he pulls away to look down at you.

“please what? use your words baby” xavier teases, increasing his pace just a bit. he wanted you to beg for it and as always, you did just that

“please f-fuck me” you begged, looking up at him with a clearly desperate expression. he smirked pulling his fingers out of you.

“such a good girl, of course i can” xavier says stroking his cock, letting out low groans as he did. you lifted your hips a bit as you watched him stroke himself, you needed him so bad.

“someone’s desperate to be fucked hm?” xavier taunts. he leans over grabbing a condom from one of desk drawers.

xavier quickly sliding on the condom seeing how badly you wanted it. he wanted you just as much. “well , i won’t make you wait any longer”

xavier thrust inside of you at a slow yet rough pace. you let out cries of pleasure as finally enters you.

you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down into a kiss. even though you were mostly moaning into his mouth. this was going to be a long night.

after multiple sloppy make out sessions and doing it in many different positions, you both finally tired yourself’s out.

you laid there panting beneath your boyfriend. “i hope it turns out nice” you say, clearly worn out from your activities

“i’m sure that it will, we put a lot of effort into it” xavier said

(a day later)

“when did you make this?” ajax asked pointing to the new tapestry on xavier’s wall.

“y/n and i made it a few days ago. it was really fun”

———————————————————————————————————

i’m sorry this is so bad, i suck at writing smut lol

#xavier thorpe smut #xaiver thorpe #xaiver thorpe x reader #xavier x you #xavier thrope imagine #xavier wednesday #wednesday series

[3-dsimp]

Come one come all!

Say hello to your new only yandere boyfriend Miyeong!

He’s apart of a hit man team and is known as the unhinged hacker of the group. He specializes in spreading viruses, shutting down operational systems, trolling, and wiping one’s existence right off the face of the earth.

Personality: Miyeong is the introverted hyperactive troublemaker of the hit man team.

Age: 20

Species: lnyx hybrid

Position: Switch (leans more to dom)

Love languages: gift giving and physical touch.

He is starved for affection and will try to indulge in his kitten any chance he gets.

Will buy you anything you desire, he’s loaded from the commissions he gets anyways. And a lot of times he doesn’t know what to do with money other than spoiling it on his darling.

“What do you need Kitten? I’ll be sure to spoil you rotten hehe”

Toxic traits: He is obsessive and impulsive

Not a day goes by without daydreams of you living rent free in his mind. He even goes as far as to leave the most erotic details of how pretty you sounded/looked while being fucked into oblivion. As the lines of code he’d use to hack on missions given to him. Will literally stalk all your social media, and threaten those who slip into your DMs.

If you happen to make him sad he will punish you by either putting you in timeout or overstimulating you with toys until you beg for forgiveness. He hates to see you shed tears and only wants to see you smile as it never fails to brighten his day. However, to straighten you out he’ll push himself to do whatever’s deemed necessary.

“ Alright kitten you’ve forced my hand now would rather say hi to rosey or go into timeout?”

Neediness scale: High

He needs you to be with him 24/7. He also defined as an attention whore, who cannot last 5 minutes without head scratches, kisses, cuddles, and being inside his kitten at least 3 times a day.

The many times he gave into the impulse to steal your panties/bra/underwear and tuck them into his pants cannot be measured in numbers. Also the fact that he has a homemade body pillow of you on his bedside, tells you how hopelessly in love he is with his kitten.

“Cmonn kitten pretty please can I stuff my head in between those thighs of yours, I really need a pick me up right now”

Threat level: Legendary

If he puts his mind to it he can throw countries into a state of panic and wreck havoc without anyone to stop him since he is the god of code. You cannot escape from him, he has access to eyes everywhere.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere male #yandere male x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere hybrid #yandere headcanons #yandere drabble #yanderecore #yandere content #yandere blurb #yandere blog #yandere art #cyrus

[weministertomonsters]

Half-Cyborg (Alexandrian) x human female reader

"Alexandrian!" You call out as soon as you enter your apartment after a long day at work. "We need to talk. I know you can hear me. You've been avoiding me lately."

Your apartment is clean, practically sparkling. He has been doing his job and that isn't the issue. You've gotten tired of your cyborg employee acting like you don't exist. You're paying to have him here and seeing his scowling face all day makes you feel like you're being scammed.

"Look, I'm sorry for yelling at you yesterday," you groan as you slip off your heels, sighing appreciatively as your tired feet touch the cold tiles.

"You haven't been very nice to me lately and I want to know why. Alexandrian?!"

"In here," his dry, weary voice replies.

He's in your bedroom, probably vacuuming the carpet or cleaning again, because he knows dust tends to irritate your nose. Considerate.

"Sorry, I'm home so late. I know I said I'd be here by eight for dinner... What are you doing?"

Alexandrian turns from your dresser, holding up what has to be the sexiest lingerie piece you've ever seen. After a moment of pulling up blanks, you realize it's yours. It was an impulse buy after a breakup, but you just never wore it. The skimpy material is tangled in his shining metal fingers as he holds it up like he's suggesting you try it on.

"What on earth are you doing?" You frown at him.

"Why do you own this if you're never going to wear it?" He asks, rubbing the material between his fingers.

"Um... Put that down?" You don't sound authoritative and you know it.

He knows it, and that's why he ignores you. He isn't made to obey half-hearted commands.

"You sleep in a giant t-shirt. I hate it," he says softly.

"How... Have you been coming into my room while I sleep?!" You snap and then fold your arms. "And the t-shirt is comfy, I don't care how it looks," you mutter, avoiding his eyes.

"You throw the blankets off the bed," he replies, dropping the lingerie back into the open drawer and turning to you. "And do you know what that looks like?"

Don't engage him. Command him to go wash the dishes or something, the angel on your shoulder chirps.

It's the demon that speaks, lifting your chin and leveling him with an I-couldn't-care-less gaze.

"What does "that" look like?"

"An invitation." He's so much closer to you now, leaning in ever so slightly.

You don't step away, but you do lean back.

"Pink," he murmurs.

"M-my panties?" You stammer, cursing internally.

Where did that come from? Where are you trying to go with this?

"You don't wear panties to sleep," he gives you a hard, angry look, stepping back. "You're all the same."

"Who?" You stare at him, confused, anxious, and a little turned on, if you don't lie to yourself.

He's so close to you and tall and big and...

"Every woman I have ever worked for," he says, interrupting your thoughts.

"It's like I don't exist. Some have walked around practically naked. What, you think because I've got half a fucking cyborg body the rest of me doesn't work? Do you know how frustrating that is?"

"Um," your eyes shoot down guiltily for a second.

That's all it takes. He gets up close in your face, teeth gritted and enhanced eyes gleaming.

"Don't look at me like that. Do not test me."

"I didn't look," you lie.

"Then tell me why your heart is beating so fucking fast. Tell me why you can't make yourself stand still."

"You can hear my heartbeat?! Jesus, the manual doesn't say anything about that," you cough and tug at your hair. "You, uh, hear very well then."

"I can hear you at night playing with your toys. Throwing them at the wall when they don't satisfy you," he says flatly, and you wince.

"I didn't know you could hear all that. I'm sorry."

"I can see your tits," he says suddenly, dragging his hand down his face.

"Huh?" You peer down and remember that one of the first things you did when you came inside was to rip off your bra.

Your thin white blouse doesn't do a good job of hiding your hard nipples, to say the least. Defeated, you shrug and turn away.

Alexandrian lets out an unnaturally long sigh and says, "Dinner is in the kitchen if you want it. I'll be there as always to heat it for you."

The door clicks shut.

"Jeez, sassy. It's like he's being kept here against his will or something," you mutter, unbuttoning your blouse.

You can hear the vacuum humming furiously in the living room. You take a long look at your bedside table and then head over, sliding the drawer open to look at your collection of toys. You select your biggest vibrating dildo and flop on the bed.

To your surprise, it doesn't take you long to reach the peak as you run his words over and over again in your mind, fantasizing about where it could have gone. Your orgasm leaves you gasping and weak-limbed, all satisfied and warm. The vacuum has gone quiet, but you don't care.

~ • ~ • ~ • ~

This was so much fun to write! It's so short though, I want more. 🤭

I'm alive but I feel run-over by emotional whiplash of overreacting to something. I talked to my mom about it and she was so sweet. For the first time in my entire life, she actually gave me advice instead of just listening and judging! I felt like my mom had been replaced by an alien, lol. My dad wasn't in the room though, so that may be why she was more open this time. Which is another concern, but I'll take what I can get!

Has something been on your mind? It helps to talk about it with someone you trust. But don't  you dare open yourself up to someone who will throw your vulnerability away. That shit will hurt so bad.

Stay safe and be smart! <3

#cyborg #robot #monster x reader #exophilia #monster lover #monster fucker #monster x human #terato #monster

[cerealyoam]

Mystic Messenger x Middle Eastern Reader

Basically POV youre Middle Eastern and the little things that add to the relationship

Characters; Jumin Han, V, 707

A/N: you might be thinking, dami, why are you writing for a dead fandom about something nobody asked for? And i assure you. Impulse overtakes me on a daily basis. Also I feel the need to add that I am Middle Eastern

(Gender neutral reader as per the usual!)

V

When he first saw you, he thought you were beautiful

Because of his nature, he really wanted to photograph you in warm sunlight. He felt the best way to remember you was by taking as many photos as he could

When you told him where you were from, he thought it was pretty cool, and always likes to ask about your cultures and traditions.

I like to think he wants to try your country’s cuisine, and he’ll definitely like it. Probably buys a cookbook so he can learn your favourite desserts and foods, and he thinks its a great way to learn more about you.

Since he travels abroad often, if you’re comfortable, he’d love to visit your hometown, and possibly your parents as well.

Oh my god he would be so so good to your parents

He’s respectful, greets them at the door, brings his own food to give to them

You know because he’s loaded he can basically buy expensive ass gifts for your family if they’re more traditional

So so sweet. Helps you do housework at your parents’ home, all of that.

He honestly wants to learn how to speak modern Arabic, or your Arabic slang as well.

It’s just he doesn’t know where to start.

Like? How do all the different pronouns work? Why are there so many words for so many different specific things?

Pls help him

Oh yeah he definitely messes up by saying some slang word that means something entirely inappropriate given the context. Watch him call a cat a bra bc he doesn’t know the difference

Calls you habibi/habibti (my love) or hayati (my life) because its the only words he kind of knows the meaning of

Overall really sweet like he always is. Practically the best boyfriend ever. Unmatched

Jumin Han

Oh you have nothing to worry about at all

The worlds most civilised polite businessman with manners that are just perfect for meeting your parents with

He’s already travelled half the Arabian peninsula I’m 90% sure he knows the language too

Super sophisticated, super sweet

If you like any particular food he hires a full fledged 3 Michelin star ass restaurant chef for any dish you’d like

Oh you want some kubba or smn? Say no more in the next few hours you’re eating the best kubba in your life ok

Idc if you don’t like kubba the 3 Michelin star ass chef is gonna make you like it I swear

Has probably already been to where you live at least twice but he’ll go again just for you

He finds you absolutely gorgeous like have you seen yourself you’re gorgeous

Likes to trace your face and cheeks with his knuckles and tells you you’re absolutely beautiful

Can probably get any outfit tailored perfectly to you the moment you mention your specific traditional clothing

Again your parents cant refuse. He’s literally a corporate executive of the highest ranking business where he is. He has so much money he’ll only ever get richer. Dowry money? Oh yeah that costs just about an eighth of his weekly salary let’s double the dowry

You feel v v v loved. Unmatched husband material

707

He knows Arabic

Was a bit shocked when you had zero issue getting into his house bc u know the language enough to say cat in Arabic

But he also sort of knew so he changed the entire algorithm of his lock system to be in Tagalog just to be safe

Vanderwood has held a grudge since then

You know how he is he’s totally got every random nuanced joke memorised and prepared up his sleeve so if you swear in your language slang ever he probably knows what it means and will definitely snicker even if you don’t realize it

Honestly nothing much changes he just knows already lmfao

#this was so fun to write i couldn't help myself #I’ve been craving this kind of fic for decades and so I did it myself #very self indulgent #when will I get a boyfriend who cares about learning my culture #mystic messenger #jumin han #v #jihyun kim #mystic messenger 707 #mystic messenger headcannons #jumin han x reader #jumin han x gn reader #v x gn reader #v x reader #jihyun Kim x reader #jihyun kim x gn reader #middle eastern reader #707 x reader #saeyoung choi x reader #gn Reader #mysme jumin han #mysme V #mystic messenger v

[artblogart]

Saving thousands of euros with cheap groceries

How can you save on your living expenses? Is it smart to shop at the same and small stores over and over? Are you resistant to all marketing techniques? And do you also throw away that much food? Is it smart to shop in your own wardrobe? Or is it better to go to an outlet to shop? And when is the sale actually? And does it have to be all new what you buy? In short, how can you shop and shop more consciously, and tackle your impulsive behavior. Here are some tips.

Go to a small shop

The larger the store, the greater the freedom of choice and the more open you are to impulse purchases. Therefore, choose the smallest branch, otherwise you will be exposed to buying temptations again and again. Most supermarkets go out of their way to try and persuade you to make an impulse purchase. Like the candy and chocolate bars at the cash register. You're waiting in line and you mindlessly grab something sweet to snack on when you're outside.

Put some products back or load them from your basket and dump them somewhere in the supermarket

Give some doubtful cases that ended up in your basket (not a cart) due to your impulsive behavior to the cashier. Maybe it's even better to stay at a supermarket, and not go to other supermarkets because there you will be exposed to other marketing techniques. Do you have a cart or basket full of stuff? Then load it again a little or completely empty. The products are not yours yet. Put them back neatly or somewhere near the cash register. Or even give them to the cashier. And say you're not taking the product anyway. In this way you create independence and you learn to control yourself.

Shop in your own wardrobe

The average woman has about thirty panties and twenty-five pairs of shoes. And fifteen pants, fifteen bras and fifteen skirts. Also ten handbags, five scarves and five hats. You can continue with that for a year or two. Taking part in fashion is expensive. Create your own style. That is less dependent on the latest whims, and ensures that you are more recognizable, and that can provide other benefits.

Waiting for the sale

In Belgium it is very clear from January 1st to January 31st and from July 1st to July 31st. In the Netherlands, the sale period is less clearly defined. Some stores start earlier with a pre-sale for regular customers. And it gets cheaper and cheaper as the sale progresses. You used to be happy with thirty percent. Now seventy percent is only a little discount. In the Netherlands it is less precise and some stores even have shelves all year round where the sale is displayed. As a consumer you pay for the privilege of being able to buy all year round. If you can afford to wait quite a while and exercise your patience, you can pass for much better prices. Extremely good offers also last extremely short. So be quick when it really gets a lot cheaper.

Buy vintage clothes

Super hip in London New York, Paris and Amsterdam. Get to the flea markets very early for the finest quality pieces. Go very late for the bargains and the leftovers. Another tip: combine beautiful brands and good basics with nice vintage clothing. That saves half and also look in the more chic second-hand women's clothing stores.

Throwing away food is often unnecessary

On average, we throw away ten to fifteen percent of our food. If you know that on average we spend about fifteen percent of our disposable budget on food. And that budget is, for example, 1500 euros per month, then that is 225 euros in food. And 15 percent of that is about 34 euros per month. So a little more than 365 euros per year. And that is again a return trip to Paris including hotel and dinner.

Buy clothes in outlets

Many sizes at sometimes quite interesting prices. But beware, an outlet first asked 500 euros for a pair of shoes and now 50 percent off? That seems like a bargain, but it's still 250 euros or a weekend in Paris for two including chic dining, a hotel and with the high-speed train back and forth.

Conclusion

There are several ways to save on your expenses. First mapping out what you spend is often a huge eye-opener. Then recognize your impulsive behavior and tackle it in a structured way. This leads to more conscious consumption. And that saves money. Lots of money.

#savings #design #home & lifestyle #news #sale #saving tips to afford travel #save money #saving tips #smart #practical #practice #i need money #money #make money for free #make money online #profit #income #insurance #spending #spend money #spent #extra #freedom #habits #7 trials of habit #we made it

[honoretanner29]

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#bridal gown in mo

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Fic: The Bra

Frankie x Lady masterlist

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Ship: Frankie Morales x Jay ‘Lady’ Ray

Warnings: lingerie kink, post-pregnancy body issues, mention of exercise in order to lose weight after pregnancy, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, squirting, some basic frankie&jay language and dirty talk, a good dicking down on top of a car.

Summary: Frankie likes sexy lingerie on ladies (look nothing you say can convince me otherwise) but he has accepted that being with a woman like Jay means good-bye to super feminine stuff. Jay, however, can surprise the man she loves once and again...

Words: 4,675

A/N: As always, I'm tagging @apascalrascal, Frankie & Jay's greatest fan and basically co-writer at this point <3

It all began when Jay was pregnant, and that ridiculous goddamn bra in the display window of a lingerie store downtown. Jay and Frankie had spent a morning shopping – a task neither of them found particularly joyful, but needs must – and while Jay was trying on a pair of sneakers she liked the look of, Frankie remembered that he needed to go put more coins in the parking meter. He disappeared out, and Jay made a quick decision, bought the shoes, and spotted Frankie further down the street. He was looking at something through a window.

“Ready for the baby store?” Five months along, Jay dreaded going into the places that sold baby stuff. The bright colors and packs of expecting, radiant women wasn’t exactly an environment she felt at home in.

Frankie gave a start and Jay noticed a red tinge on his cheekbones.

“What are you looking at?”

It was a high-end lingerie shop, one that sold not only underwear for all sizes and bodies, but also expensive and elaborate pieces. There was a thin, faceless mannequin in the window, wearing something that Jay wouldn’t even consider as bra and panties. It’s all straps here and there, and black lace that barely cover the areolas. A bra to be fucked in at night, not to wear during the day.

“Nothing,” Frankie mumbled, pulling his baseball cap down over his eyes as he directed his attention to the sidewalk.

“You fucking perv,” Jay grinned, shoving him playfully. Frankie looked up, smiling back.

“You wouldn’t…?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Would be sexy, is all I’m saying,” he shrugged.

“I’m pregnant with your child, and you have the audacity – “

“I’m not gonna dignify you with assurances that you’re sexy without that bra.” He winked at her as they started walking down the street. “Or without any bra at all. You know I think you’re hot.”

They had left it at that, but it wasn’t the last time Jay would find him gazing longingly at women’s underwear. He’d always tell her that she was free to wear whatever she liked, and that he wouldn’t dream of nagging her into buying something she wasn’t comfortable wearing. But he always made it clear that he’d like to see her in something else besides sports bras or simple, seamless cotton bras.

She got herself a nursing bra right before Alma was born, but went without quite a lot, especially at home. Thankfully, her tits didn’t swell up several sizes, or droop too much, and she figured she might be able to fit into her old bras once Alma was weaned.

Turned out, she didn’t. It suddenly became necessary to buy a couple of new sports bras, as well as a simple bralette, and one or two t-shirt ones – from a fast fashion chain, thank you very much, she wasn’t made of money.

She passed by the fancy lingerie store on her way to the car, and glanced up at the gold lettering of the French name. Something new and intricate-looking had been put on the mannequin in the window, and following an impulse, Jay entered.

The sales assistant was good. Too good, and they had a very keen eye for personal preferences. They pulled out three pieces at once when Jay explained what she wanted, and although the simplest one, a plain but expensive-looking t-shirt bra with a single string going from between the cups to halfway up the shoulder strap, was the one Jay would have gone for, the assistant encouraged her to try them all on. They even guessed Jay’s size, getting it wrong, but made her try it anyway, and it turned out it was Jay who had been wearing the wrong size the whole time.

Sucks to be a woman, she thought to herself, a little annoyed with the very tight little box women are constantly put in, but also pleasantly surprised with how comfortable a well-fitted bra can be. Turns out, she liked a more revealing one. The price was scandalous for an item she couldn’t use other than for, well, sex basically, but when looking at herself in the mirror, she did feel… sexy. She had never really thought of her own body in those terms before. Years of trying to desex herself for the military had done that. Frankie’s constant physical worship had really introduced her to the idea of her body being hot.

She looked at herself in that bra. Her stomach wasn’t as flat as it used to be, but she had started exercising as soon as the doc had cleared her, and was well on her way back to what she had looked like. Her ass was rounder, and her tits were definitely bigger and saggier – but the bra was taking care of that. It was much more low-cut than she would have gone for; a balconette with straps in the form of upside down Y’s running down her chest, accentuating the swell of her breasts. The cups see-through, a discrete lace pattern across the upper half covering some of the areolas. It felt good to wear it, strangely enough. She decided it was worth the price, and bought the matching panties as well: low-cut, of the same see-through material, lace in the crotch, and single straps over the hips.

Hiding the purchases in her closet until a suitable night presents itself, she gets the opportunity to wear them sooner than expected. It’s been a good day, and Alma went down easily. Closing the door to the nursery, Jay walks through the laundry room to the garage door, and opens it.

Frankie’s working on his truck, and she catches him adjusting a work light towards the engine, a frown on his face.

“Okay?” she asks, and he glances up.

“Yeah, just need to get the light…”

She walks in and gives him a hand, earning a grateful smile when she manages to angle the flashlight just right.

“Thanks, babe.”

“You gonna be in here long?”

“A while, yeah.” He’s already reaching in between the engine parts, t-shirt straining over back muscles and shoulders. His baseball cap is showed down the back pocket of his jeans, offering one flat ass cheek a bit of padding. Jay smiles to herself. He’s gained weight since going civilian, but not one single ounce stays on his ass, most of it settling around his waist. She loves his physical softness, the feel of his tummy against hers when he hugs her, or sleeps close to her, or fucks her. He always was the softness to her hard edges.

“Don’t be too long,” she tells him, and he mumbles absent-mindedly, so focused on his job that he doesn’t seem to notice the seductive tone of her voice. Jay leaves the garage, smiling to herself at Frankie’s capacity to focus solely on one thing at a time, even if it means missing out on a baby mama with lewd intentions.

She decides to take matters into her own hands. She is, after all, used to taking what she wants. And right now she wants to see Frankie’s face when presented with her in that ridiculous lingerie.

Stripping in the bedroom and putting on the new ensemble, she looks herself over in the mirror. Here, in their plain yet homely bedroom, the lingerie looks a little misplaced, albeit still sexy. Biting into her lower lip and frowning critically, Jay looks around, and spots one of Frankie’s plaids. She puts it on, rolls up the sleeves, and smiles at her own reflection. Much better. The threadbare garment, one size too big for her, gives the whole look some edge. She feels more like herself. And Frankie always likes it when she wears his clothes: he says it makes his clothes smell like her, so the next time he wears it, he can have her with him all day. Jay always found the idea of borrowing each other’s clothes infantile, but she became quite a fan of Frankie’s wide shirts when she was pregnant.

Hustling back to garage with a wildly beating heart, Jay opens the door and leans towards the door frame. Posing doesn’t come naturally to her, so she’s a little unsure about how to do it.

“Babe?”

“Hm?”

He’s leaning deep under the hood, perched on a step stool, and doesn’t look up. Jay waits for a moment, giving him a chance to finish up. When nothing happens, she shifts her weight from one foot to the other, her hands going to her hips.

“Frankie!”

He resurfaces from under the hood, a large wrench in hand.

“What – “ He sees her, and his jaw literally falls open as the wrench falls out of his hand. It clatters against the radiator grill, then the bumper, before landing on his booted foot, startling him so that he almost loses his balance on the stool. Flailing, he grabs the front of the truck, saving his equilibrium. Jay’s heart, having jumped up into her throat for fear of having to watch him fall and break his neck, skips a beat at his reaction. This is boding well – or maybe he hates it?

“Jesus, Frankie, you okay?” She steps into the garage, stopping when Frankie’s gaze meets hers.

He is ravenous.

For a long while, he just stares at her. His eyes caress every inch of her body, lingering hungrily on her tits, but taking in her hips and legs with equal greed. His eyes are like saucers in his face, and the warm brown of them has turned smooth and dark. When he finally closes his mouth, it’s to first lick his lips, then clear his throat.

“C’mere,” he tells her. Yes, tells: it’s not a polite request, it’s an order. Slowly, trying to remember to sway her hips – it’s not a natural way for her to move – Jay walks up to him, leaning against the truck when she reaches him.

“You like it?” she asks in a low voice, knowing of course that he’s already crazy about her purchase.

Not tearing his eyes off her body, he slams down the engine hood, then steps down from the stool.

“Almost killed me, amor,” he breathes, dipping his head so that he can graze her skin of her face with his lips and mustache. “How do you think I like it?”

Jay shifts, longing to move closer, to melt into him, but Frankie stops her with a rough, slightly cold hand on her waist.

“No. Stand there. Let me look at you.”

He stares into her cleavage, runs an oily finger along the straps, leaving a faint trail of dirt behind. Jay’s skin knots over, her nipples turning into rock hard pebbles inside the sheer fabric.

Frankie licks his lips again before separating them, his breath passing quickly in and out through his mouth. His fingers skim over her breasts before settling on her hips, hiding under the plaid. Do his hands shake a little?

“Frankie?”

“Christ, Jay,” he growls. “You look… so fucking hot.”

Jay’s stomach twists on itself at his low, heated baritone. His voice always did things to her but this is on another level. She should have bought ridiculous underwear a long time ago.

Without warning, Frankie crashes his lips to hers. The kiss is greedy, rough, and ignites the embers inside her. His hands move underneath the plaid, his fingers finding their way along the hip straps of the panties to her ass cheeks, before grabbing handfuls for a squeeze. Jay grunts into his mouth, bites his lip, and that sets him into a higher gear. He maneuvers her, back first, against the grill of his truck.

“Up,” he grunts, and Jay gets up on the stool. Her chest is a little higher up now, and Frankie doesn’t have to bend over. He kisses her again, tongue barely having probed into her mouth before he tears his mouth from hers and lowers down to press his face to her tits. Softly biting her nipples through the thin fabric of the bra, he teases the first breathy moans out of her. Every caress leaves a trail of dirt on her skin, as a testament to his worship of her.

He cups her tits in the bra, squeezes and weighs them, before running his fingers along the straps, and pinching the nipples.

“God, baby, you drive me crazy with this,” he groans before crashing his lips to hers again. His love attack pushes Jay back towards the grill, and she wraps her arms around Frankie’s neck tightly, holding onto him in case she’d fall from the stool. He takes the plaid off her, and Jay’s skin knots for a second when the extra layer is removed. Frankie’s hands are, however, warm, and all over her.

“Up,” Frankie demands again, hands around her thighs as he lifts her. Jay scrambles for footing, hands reaching behind her for the hood, and with a reverse pushup and some help from Frankie, she comes to sit on the edge of the hood. The height of the truck makes it perfect for what he has in mind, and Jay opens her legs as her smile widens.

“This what you want?” she breathes, skin knotting over anew, now in anticipation and arousal. Frankie’s stare drops from her face to the apex of her thighs. The crotch of the panties is already dark with the testament to her readiness, and his avaricious stare makes her even more wet.

“Baby,” he tells her in a low voice, “you’re too good for me.”

“I’m just what you need, Morales,” she quips, and that brings Frankie’s face forward, in between her thighs. He presses his sharp nose to the seam of her sex and inhales deeply. The act, although not stimulating in itself, is so erotic that it makes Jay’s breath hitch.

“Baby,” she whispers, “please.”

“Can’t take these off just yet,” Frankie murmurs against her pussy, the fabric doing nothing to stop her feeling the reverberations of his low voice and the heat from his mouth. “Let me enjoy them a little longer.”

With a helpless sigh, Jay leans back onto her elbows and settles to watch him run his big, dirty fingers over the thin, expensive panties. The contrast is almost vulgar, and seems to turn him on just as much as it does her. He kisses the insides of her thighs and rubs his nose against her apex, rendering her more and more desperate.

“Frankie,” she says, now with the hint of warning in her voice. She knows that Frankie can take his time when he wants to, and she’s not sure she can take that tonight.

Then again, she never thinks she can, and Frankie always proves her wrong.

“I got you, I promise,” he tells her, and Jay hears the same little hint of impatience in his voice. He kisses his way up over her mound, his eyes never leaving hers, and when he reaches the edge of her panties, he snags a piece of belly skin between his teeth, and sucks until a hickey appears. He licks the bruise before moving his mouth to the waistband of the panties, and then starts to pull them down with his teeth.

That’s a new one. He’s never used his teeth before.

His facial hair scrapes against her skin and Jay lifts her feet to his shoulders, using the leverage to lift her ass off the hood just enough to let the panties slip off. Almost reverently, Frankie slides them down her legs and folds them once before putting them on the work bench behind him.

“Legs over my shoulders, amor,” he tells her when he returns to between her thighs. She hurries to follow his order, and that brings him in closer to inspect her dripping sex.

“You have no idea how much I want to make you cum on my fingers,” he mutters. Jay give his head a little warning nudge with her thigh.

“Don’t you dare, you dirty man.”

“Don’t worry, baby, I’m just gonna have to do a better job with my mouth.” He sounds very pleased about that prospect, and the smirk he sends up her way makes her ache even harder.

“Lots of talk, very little action,” she remarks, not feeling at all as unperturbed as she manages to sound. To Frankie, of course, she’s as see-through as glass.

“I like tormenting you a little, you know that…” He wraps his arms around her thighs and rubs the tip of his nose to her clit. “How many times you wanna cum, mi amor?”

“Let’s start with two?” Jay suggests with an impatient little whine.

“So modest.”

He does not disappoint. Frankie never does. Not only does he manage to draw the first orgasm from her in what feels like mere minutes, he also slows down enough to give her a breather, but not enough for her to come down completely. He tightens his arms around her thighs, and dives back in with renewed ferociousness. Within moments, she’s tugging at his hair again, fighting to keep her voice down – the door between the garage and the rest of the house is closed, and the walls aren’t paper thin, but there’s no need to risk waking Alma up. She leans into the intensity, traps Frankie against it with her legs, keens when he grabs her ass cheeks and squeezes, almost lifting her up from the hood.

“Right there,” she gasps when he hits that spot. “There, baby, harder, I’m gonna squirt if you go harder!”

He knows this, of course, and focuses solely on that magical spot, the one which draws everything together in a different way that an orgasm does, in a way that always makes her want to fight it, but has learned to embrace. The warm gush of liquid makes a mess of Frankie’s face, her thighs, and she can her it drip-drop down on the bumper, his greedy slurps when he drinks her down.

“Don’t stop,” she begs him, “don’t stop, let me cum!”

Frankie knows what to do, what parts of her to focus on after a non-orgasmic squirt. The hood buckles with a low thump under her when she lets go of Frankie’s hair and sits up, placing her hands on each side of her hips. Using her arms and legs to slightly elevate her hips, she rides his face to her second orgasm, letting loose a loud moan that makes Frankie growl into her core.

She collapses back down on the hood, legs going slack on Frankie’s shoulders, and shivers from pleasure when he administers slow licks along her seam.

“Babe,” she whimpers when he swirls his tongue around her throbbing clit, “careful.”

“M-hmm…” He kisses the inside of first one thigh, then the other, before taking a break himself and looking up at her. “You got one more for me?”

“Not wet enough for Big Dick Morales yet?” she teases him breathlessly. He chuckles low in his throat.

“Wet enough for two of me in there, but you know how I like being almost strangled when I make you cum on my mouth…”

“Fuck,” she groans, “fine, one more.”

“You make it sound like a chore.” He admonishes her by biting the soft flesh of her thigh.

“I can kick you,” Jay warns him.

“But then you’d miss out on another orgasm, wouldn’t you?”

“Francisco…”

“Okay, I got you.”

His tongue grows more insistent on her soaked slit, probing into her slickness and then pulling out the wet to smear it all over her, before he focuses on her clit once more. The third orgasm is a little further away than the first two but before long, she’s shaking on the hood of the car, dripping from another, this time less powerful, squirt.

“Shit, baby, shit, holy shit,” she pants, legs shaking and hands scrambling for something besides Frankie’s hair to hold on to. He releases her clit, panting as well, and takes a step back to push her further up on the hood.

“I’m coming in, baby.”

Nimbly, he steps on the bumper and joins her on the hood.

“We’re gonna scratch your car,” Jay warns him, but since the initiative came from him, she figures he knows what he’s doing.

“What’s a few scratches next to fucking you right here, right now?” he growls before lower his face to her cleavage. He rubs himself all over her tits, smearing her cum on them, before coming up to kiss her hungrily while moving into position. When he straightens his back and unbuckles his belt, Jay spread out in front of him, he lets out a sigh.

“Fuck, baby… I’m gonna enjoy this.”

“So everything up until now has just been a nuisance, huh?” she quips, earning a little laugh.

“Well, you did almost snap my neck with your legs…”

“You didn’t seem to mind,” she counters, eyes dropping when he pulls out his dick. “Fuck, baby, I need that.”

“Insaciable,” he groans as he pulls down his pants a little more to free up his balls, then sits back on his heels, knees out to the sides. He pulls her to him, drapes her legs over his thighs, and pushes into her, all the way to the hilt. Without giving her a moment to adjust, he grabs her calves, lifts her legs, and uses them for leverage as he rails his hips into hers. The metal of the hood gives way with each and every thrust, and Jay struggles to not move upwards, but the pace keeps moving her away from him. She ends up with her upper back against the windshield, Frankie following.

“Should we switch?” she moans, her breath coming out in strangled huffs every time he snaps into her. “From behind instead?”

“I wanna see your tits,” he grunts. “Wanna see them bounce like that. Wanna – oh, fuck – wanna cum on your tits.”

That’s also new. Frankie seems to pick up on her surprise, because he tears his gaze from her chest, looking up at her with frenzy in his eyes.

“Can I?”

“Yes!” she allows in a desperate cry, and that renews his powers. The handbrake creaks from the strain as Frankie’s assault on her pussy makes the sizeable car rock.

“Shit, baby, almost there, fuck, you take me so well…”

“That’s because you get me so fucking wet, baby,” she shouts when he suddenly bends her double and comes down to kiss her sloppily.

“Let me cum on your tits,” he grunts again, his voice strangled. “Let me, Jay.”

“Cum on my tits, baby,” she coaxes him, struggling with each syllable as he fucks into her so hard she fears she’s going through the windshield.

“Fuck!”

With a roar, Frankie pulls out and grabs his dick, pumps it furiously until warm ropes of cum shoot out, painting the sexy bra, Jay’s chest, and upper ribs. Panting like after a marathon, he still rubs his dick while cupping her breast in the bra, squeezing exhaustedly before smearing out the cum.

“F…fu-uck…” he stutters, leaning over her for a kiss which is nothing but lips meeting lips, both of them wheezing too much to actually be able to kiss. Jay takes his arm and tugs a little, encouraging him to lie down next to her. He plops down clumsily and groans.

“Goddammit…”

“You okay?”

“My knees didn’t enjoy that.” He turns his head and meets her gaze. “But it was worth it. Jesus, Jay… we haven’t had sex like that in ages. That was like… pre-baby sex.”

“I know,” she slurs as she relaxes and her body starts to feel boneless. “Was good.”

He hums in satisfaction before silence falls over the garage, their respective breathing the only sound in the room. As her heartrate lowers, Jay starts to feel cold. Carefully, she rolls over onto her side and scoots up to Frankie, who opens his eyes and squints at her.

“Cold,” she explains, and he throws his arm around her.

“We’ll go in, have a shower,” he promises. “Just let me get myself together first.”

“Hmm, same. Can take a while.” She sighs deeply, contented despite a pulled hamstring, and hammered pussy. A shiver runs through her, knotting her skin, and Frankie hums again.

“Okay, let’s get going before you freeze.”

He tucks himself back in before carefully making his way down from the hood. He then turns around to catch Jay in his arms as she slides down as well, her slick skin squeaking against the metal. Holding her close once she’s safely down on the floor, Frankie finds her lips for a sweet kiss.

“What on earth possessed you to buy this bra…?” he murmurs, one hand moving to softly cover one of her breasts. Jay licks her lips, a faint taste of herself lingering from Frankie’s kiss.

“You like lingerie on women. Figured I’d give you a little treat.”

“Jay…” Frankie cups both her cheeks and strokes his thumbs over her cheekbones. “I love you so fucking much. With or without a bra.”

“Your standards never cease to impress me, Francisco,” she chuckles as she mirrors his move, and cups his cheeks. “I love you too. You always make me feel so good.”

“As do you.”

She smirks. “Can’t say the same about your truck.”

They both look at the vehicle, looming from the gross misuse of its engine hood, now sporting several bumps and a scratch. Glossy smears make the metallic color shine in the lamplight, and there are oily handprints all over the place – as well as two perfect half-moon shapes that match Jay’s buttocks.

“Car can be washed, bumps can be banged out,” Frankie dismisses it. “The scratch is fixable, too.”

They share another little kiss before a new shiver travels through Jay’s body, and Frankie marches her inside. He checks on Alma, who’s still asleep in the nursery, then catches up with Jay in the bedroom. She’s staring at her naked self in the full length mirror, only now seeing all the greasy smudges on her body. There are black fingerprints on her thighs and ass, trails up and down her waist and along the curve of her tits, smears on her arms and legs…

“Sorry,” Frankie smirks as he comes up behind her and bites her ear. “It’s kinda hot, though, isn’t it?”

She tilts her head as she regards herself.

“In a way.”

“I’ll get you clean.” He tugs the t-shirt over his head and discards it on the floor, his jeans following. “Come on, into the shower.”

She ends up against the tile wall, Frankie fucking into her slowly this time, one leg hitched around his waist.

“Would you wear a sundress for me?” he groans into her ear. “A flowy little thing that reaches halfway down your thighs?”

“Never.” Her answer may be delivered in a moan, but it’s still sharp and distinct.

“What if I asked really, really nicely…” Frankie begs, reaching down between them to rub her clit. Jay’s head falls back and he leans forward to suck a bruise into the skin of her exposed neck.

“Watch it, or this was the first and last time you saw me in that bra.”

“Yes, ma’am. Now, cum for me one more time…”

The panties are forgotten in the garage, where Benny finds them a week later when he goes in to borrow some tools. He puts two and two together, realizing that the bumps on the hood of Frankie’s car never came from bored teenagers testing the new neighbors. Frankie vehemently denied everything (“So you’re saying these are not Lady’s panties, man?”) and Jay calmly put an end to it all by saying “Yeah, sure, that was us” and fist bumping Benny, much to the chagrin of Frankie, who was more bashful about his sex life. Jay telling him to be proud because “it was fucking good sex”, and Benny’s subsequent “hell yeah!” didn’t help.

And he never managed to get one of those dents knocked out.

#my fic #triple frontier fanfic #francisco catfish morales #francisco frankie morales #frankie morales #frankie morales x lady #frankie x lady

[bomberqueen17]

mostly i do ok

I like for sure for definitely have had ADHD my whole life and have dealt with it with a cobbled-together series of coping mechanisms that have sometimes served me and sometimes crippled me, and the state of medicine and prescriptions in the US is such that I don’t think I will ever actually get to try medication or therapy about it, but like, you know, I have my very small life and the things I know how to do with it and that’s fine, it’s as well as anyone does really. This is not to complain, it’s just to explain, a bit.

One of the things ADHD people get commonly, I’ve read, is impulsive spending and such. And I super have that, it feels super good to buy a bunch of sparkly shit I don’t need and i definitely lose my mind when it comes to the Add To Cart button, and the way I’ve mostly dealt with it my whole life is to just not buy things, and to get super weird about hoarding. (You don’t need sparkly shit when your house is so full of old broken impulse-purchased sparkly shit you can’t walk from one room to another!) Yeah, that’s gone well. But.

Anyway it means I can live really frugally, and then once in a while I wildly splurge on all the stuff I’ve denied myself, and actually it mostly works out. There have been some problems, but like really, I do okay.

The pandemic unemployment clusterfuck intensified that, and completely broke my ability to spend money-- having literally zero income for seven months and then getting $12k bodyslammed into my empty checking account in 35 transactions in a single day really fucked me up a lot. It took me a while to start to piece back together any kind of relationship to money and buying things at all, and I’m still not. Well, I wasn’t good at it to begin with. I’ll wear shoes that have fallen apart and trousers I hate and a bra that doesn’t fit for literal years, and then I’ll impulse-buy $300 worth of garments that don’t fit, and never throw them out and only wear them to punish myself. Etc.

So anyhow I’ve hit a point where I have to buy things, and it’s fine I’ve saved up for it (actually it was in our budget and Dude was like why is there all this extra money did you not buy underwear and yeah no dude i did not)-- and I did okay, I bought a bunch of bras that didn’t fit and I actually did exchange them, so there’s that for starters. (The punchline is that they’re not manufactured in the size I actually need, but the close-enough is actually better than the old close-enough I’ve been wearing for three years, so I’ll take it.)

I’ve also spent a frankly insane amount of money on wool leggings, which I have wanted for literal years and have hoarded a bunch of salvaged ill-fitting woollen gear mostly handed down from other people and still have not been able to be confident enough in my sewing ability to make anything out of them. So I have bought some, and maybe I’ll still get my shit together and make something and maybe I won’t.

I also bought one of those Instagram darling wool dresses, and we’ll see how I feel about that when it arrives.

I’ve also determined that several things I very badly want are not manufactured in my size, so I cannot have them, so that’s a bummer. (Anyone with leads on a velvet blazer for a 50″ bust size, or silk underwear in a 50″ hip size, please let me know.)

But now I’m facing the downside of this Internet era. The upside is that I can find things at all; I’m old enough to remember going to the mall and dragging myself into several stores, finding none of them had anything that fit me (when i was a teenager into my early 20s I fit very neatly into the slot of being too fat for the largest size in stores selling misses’ sizes, and too small for the smallest size in the plus-size stores) and keeping searching until I cried in at least two fitting rooms, then dragging myself back out of the mall with literally nothing. Now I can just go to a new website and poke around until I find their size chart, check for my bust measurement or hip measurement, and if they have it I’ll look, and if they don’t I can close the window and get on with my life.

But the downside is that I spend the money and then I still don’t have the thing, so it’s not there to help improve my mood right now in the dark depths of my dire need.

*paws at door* packidge? packidge?

#personal #about the author #ADHD coping mechanisms

[writershapeholeonthedoor]

You Marked More Than Just My Skin - Supercorp

Read it on AO3

Kara’s first instinct was to blame Alex because, if she was going to be honest, Alex was the one to blame for many of her stupid decisions. Sisters' competitive nature or something like that. That's what their mother would say when they were teenagers and they randomly started a fight. A just adopted Kara who had just lost her parents was not letting an overly cocky Alex win without fighting back.

So, naturally, she was going to blame Alex for this. However, Alex had nothing to do with Kara walking down the street from her job one day and entering the tattoo shop she walked past by every day on her way home. No, it had started with Winn, her best friend, saying that Kara wasn’t the type of person to do things out of impulse. Which he wasn’t exactly wrong, although he hit a sore spot because "I can be very spontaneous!" had been Kara’s answer and everyone around them gave her that look that made it pretty clear no one believed her.

Then, just about a week after that, Nia was walking home with her after a stop at Noonan's for their killer milkshake and saw the tattoo shop still open even if it was past 10 pm. There was no one inside that they could see, but the sign read "open" in neon letters and Nia did a double-take when she saw the walls covered in drawings.

"Oh, my God! Look at that thing!" she had screamed. And that thing was a fairly beautiful drawing of a girl lying in bed with a cloud above her head as though she was dreaming about a myriad of things.

Nia grabbed her arm, dragged her inside and, ten minutes later, she was sitting on a chair while a young man that couldn't be older than Kara permanently marked the skin on her forearm with the same drawing.

"Did you draw it?" Nia asked and Kara could tell she was just a little bit in pain because she was clutching the arm of the chair and hadn’t stopped babbling for two seconds. Not that Nia ever stopped talking, actually.

"No," the man replied in an excited voice. Like he was happy to be doing a tattoo on a girl that had just ten minutes prior decided she wanted one. But Kara held back her tongue, took some pictures while Nia made her goofy faces and sat on a stool at the corner like the good friend she was. "My boss did. She does most of the drawings we have available."

"Well, she has a hell of a talent!" Nia exclaimed, bit her lip when the needle hit a soft spot and flashed another smile once it was gone. "You should tell her she's amazing!"

Jack, that was his name, Kara reminded herself, laughed like that was a big joke that only he was aware of, but nodded all the same. "She's in the office right now, maybe she will stop by to hear you say that. She loves when people pick her drawings, but she will never say it out loud."

The woman, whoever she was, didn’t leave her office, not even when they left, way past midnight, listening to Jack's careful instructions on how to take care of Nia's arm for the next week. In the end, Kara had to admit Jack was a nice guy. And he did an excellent job. Nia's tattoo was perfect. Perfect for her and perfectly done, and her friend had no problem showing it off the next day.

"Holy crap!" Winn screamed when he saw it on game night on Friday. "I didn't know you were into tattoos. It looks awesome!"

"Thank you! And I just decided to do it," Nia shrugged, as though deciding to do a tattoo on a Wednesday night at 10 pm after getting a milkshake was a normal thing. "Thank Goddess Kara was with me so she could keep me company."

"Wait," Winn eyed Kara with the same incredulous expression from a week before and she immediately felt defensive. "Kara was there and didn't try to stop you?"

"She did say I might regret it," Nia conceded with a smile. "About ten times, but she stayed with me."

Kara rolled her eyes, picked up the pizza box and sulked on the couch while her friends made fun of her lack of spontaneous nature. Kara was a planner. And she had learned her lesson when she decided to walk to the park instead of going home one day after school and returned to the Danvers' household to find out three police cars parked at the street and a frantic Eliza giving them a photo of her and saying she had disappeared. So, yes, Kara wasn't one to do things out of the blue anymore, but that was hardly a bad thing.

She tried to tell that to herself for the next week while everyone still awed and cooed at Nia's tattoo. She tried to remind herself of Eliza's panicked face while James, with his impressive looking dragon tattoo on his back, said Kara would never be one to make a tattoo because she would keep changing her mind. She tried to picture Alex's disapproving stare while Nia's boyfriend, Querl, made comments on how he loved Nia's carefree and spontaneous nature.

In the end, what pushed her to do it was her boss and Kara couldn’t even blame her, or Alex, or any of her friends. But she would, anyway.

"Kiera, the reason why people hardly remember your name-" she wanted to point out that Cat was the only one who had a hard time remembering her name but bit her tongue instead "-is because you are so... blank."

"Blank?" Kara had asked, trying and failing not to look so offended.

And Cat nodded because she knew how to get to her. "Nothing remarkable. You use terrible sweaters and write articles that everyone could write. Did you ever do something, I don’t know, remotely spontaneous in your life?"

Kara was sure - or almost sure because you can never know with Cat Grant - that her boss was trying to push her to fly to Midvale to write about the scandal surrounding some tech company there even though Snapper had decided William would cover that for CatCo. It was either that or to make her wear something that wasn’t in pastel color.

Well, all it did was send Kara straight to a tattoo shop where she hoped to find Jack and demand he did something as spectacular as Nia's tattoo. And she went on a mission, marching down the ten blocks from CatCo to the tattoo shop - that only that day she stopped to read the name of and what weird name they chose, Le Vintage Ink - her feet hitting the ground with a purpose, her hand pushing the door open with a vengeance, her eyes narrowed behind her glasses with one goal in mind.

It wasn't Jack she saw, however. She didn't see anyone at first, actually. The shop was empty like it was a week before and very silent, with the air conditioner doing a soft hum and nothing else.

The anti climax moment was enough to make all her determination wave off. Her shoulders dropped, her eyes rounded, her feet started to stamp and her determination, well, she didn’t quite remember it anymore. Nobody needed to know, Kara told to herself. Nobody knew she was going to do it, so she could just turn around, leave, go back to her apartment and try to do some online shopping. Maybe buy a red dress for once. None of her friends would ever believe she went back to the tattoo shop, so there would be no problem...

No. That was exactly the problem. They wouldn’t even believe her if she told them. They would laugh, call it a bluff, and keep teasing Kara for not being adventurous like they were. Alex does this long motorbike drives all over the state sometimes, and James goes hiking and jumps from planes from time to time. Winn would point out that the last thing Kara did without meticulous planning was to change pizza night for potstickers and that was only because the pizza place she always orders from was out of pineapples.

However, Kara reasoned with herself, instead of doing a tattoo, she could just go with Alex on her next trip. Maybe she could ask James to teach her how to hike. Querl adopted a cat he found behind his building, so maybe that could be Kara’s unplanned moment too. And what did Winn do so adventurous or spontaneous that he had the right to make fun of Kara? She couldn’t remember.

Yes, any of those things would be more reasonable. She could even do an impromptu visit to her mother. It would count for something. She knew Eliza would be happy and she loved making her mom happy. She could even pick Alex's old helmet so her sister could use it to ride with her girlfriend, Kelly, and Eliza makes a killer chocolate pecan pie too.

Already dreaming with the taste of the pie crust in her mouth Kara turned around. She must have been inside the tattoo shop for less than ten seconds and Jack hadn’t shown up yet, so that was a plus and a sign, even if she wanted to greet him and tell how nice Nia's tattoo looked after a week.

The second her back was turned to the counter, though, she heard a door opening and then a voice filled the silence. "Can I help you?"

That wasn’t Jack's voice. That much she knew. What she didn’t know was that someone could sound so... husky and still be so clear on the words. What she also didn’t know was why her body froze like she had been hit with lightning. Or why she ever decided to leave when a voice like that was inside the shop.

It would be rude to just keep walking, Kara told herself and even she knew it was a lame excuse for wanting to see the owner of that voice. But she still turned around, eyes blinking fast as she tried not to miss a second of what she was about to see, and then immediately felt her soul leave her body. That was the only explanation on why her mouth fell open and why her brain's function slowed down at least 30%.

Because the voice's owner was... for the lack of a better word, striking. It was a woman, looking a few years younger than Kara, with dark as coal wavy hair falling down her shoulders, green piercing eyes framed by some heavy eyeliner and plump lips painted with red lipstick. The woman was wearing a black t-shirt from a band Kara had never heard of, the v-cut being deep enough that she could see a black bra under it. The shirt looked like she had been cut at home - maybe she wasn't designed to have such a deep v-neck, maybe she had sleeves at some point and maybe the deep cuts by each side also weren't a part of the initial product. But, damn, it looked great on her. Since she had no sleeves and the shirt moved as she walked and showed a great expanse of her sides, Kara could see that the woman’s body was covered in tattoos.

Her arms, from shoulder to wrist, were almost totally covered. Her left arm almost looked like a flower shop, with dozens of flowers in different colors drawn all over it. Her right arm had tattoos from her shoulder to her elbow, and they were a mix of chemical elements and computer parts that, somehow, worked together in all black and white. Kara got just a few glimpses of the tattoos on her side - something that looked like a cartoon character, another one that assembled a lake, a few words that Kara couldn’t read from that far - but that was enough to make her lick her lips and try to picture what else was there. There were no tattoos on her chest area, that Kara could see, but there was a small musical chord on the left side of her neck, and Kara wondered if she had any tattoos on her legs. She couldn't see them from where the woman was standing behind the counter, and something dragged her feet forward before she could stop herself.

"H-hi," she choked out and her face immediately heated up with embarrassment. Her sister would call it 'gay panic' and make fun of her for three days, and Kara was suddenly very thankful for being alone. "I, uh..." The woman blinked, Kara mimicked her, and lost every coherent thought inside her head. "Jack."

The woman arched one perfect eyebrow, resting her hands flat against the counter, and Kara’s blue eyes were suddenly very interested in the long fingers spread over some papers. The papers, she noticed as a second thought, were unfinished drawings, but she could hardly tell what they were. Feeling her face get even hotter, Kara demanded that her eyes moved up and she was almost proud of herself when they paused for only a second at the woman’s cleavage. Of course, as soon as her eyes met the woman’s face again, she had a tiny smirk like she knew Kara was having a hard time being in the same space as her.

"I'm sorry, love," she said and Kara noticed an accent behind the last word, like she had spent years trying to get rid of it but still couldn't brush it off some words. "Jack doesn't work here on Tuesdays."

Oh. Well, that's a bit of a relief, Kara wasn't going to lie. No Jack, no tattoo, and she still could say she tried. She still wanted to say ‘hi’ but...

"Can I help you instead?"

Oh, boy. Kara almost turned around and ran away right then and there because the things she was thinking this stranger could help her with were kind of mortifying. Instead, Kara bit her bottom lip so hard that it went numb instantly, and leaned forward until she was resting her hands in front of the woman's fingers. She dared to glance down really quick, just to find out the woman was wearing black jeans and boots, before she looked up again - with a quick stop at the cleavage because good lord.

"I don't know, I..." Kara couldn’t even say her own name if the woman asked at that moment, let alone remember what she was doing there and where there even was.

The woman chuckled then. A deep, husky sound from the back of her throat that brought a small smile to her lips, and then she ducked her head - as though she had no idea that was the most blinding smile Kara had ever seen in her twenty-six years of living. Neither the chuckle nor the smile was mockingly, and her green eyes were just a little bit amused when she looked back at Kara.

"Don't get me wrong but... you don't look like the type of person that would get a tattoo."

Okay, what is it with people just assuming Kara is too boring to do something? Kara took a look at her own clothes. She wasn't even wearing a sweater that day! Sure, beige trousers and a blue button up hardly screamed "living on the edge" but come on! Was it the glasses? Alex always said she should use contact lenses, but she liked the glassed!

Feeling a new wave of determination, Kara set up her jaw and crossed her arms. "Well, that's exactly what I came here to do."

The woman raised both eyebrows now, clearly amused. "To get a tattoo?" She asked like there was any other reason for Kara to be inside a tattoo shop on a Tuesday night.

So Kara nodded, her blonde hair wiggling from side to side on her ponytail, and straightened up her back like she was about to enter a fight. Not that she ever fought before, not even when the cruel kids at her new school would call her weird and push her inside her locker. Alex would beat them up for her, so she didn’t have to, it was fine.

"Yes," she said and her voice only trembled for a second. "To get a tattoo," she confirmed like there was any other reason for her to be inside a tattoo shop on a Tuesday night.

"Okay," the woman said, clicking her tongue once before she picked up a pen from the desk, a smirk permanently spread on her lips. "Do you have any idea of what you want?"

Shit. Kara hadn’t gone that far. Maybe not even her own brain thought she would do it because she had neglected the most important part of the entire process. She had no idea what she wanted permanently marked on her skin.

(Permanently marked also sent a thousand of red lights inside her head because, you know, it was permanent)

It must have shown on her face because the woman’s smirk became more of a smile, not exactly gentle but not mockery either. "What's your name?"

"Kara." She was so glad her brain hadn’t come up with something ridiculous to say. She could remember when she met her cousin's sister-in-law and answered the same question with "mashed potatoes" for some reason she would never be able to grasp. Lucy never let her forget that embarassing moment.

"Well, Kara," and Holy Goddess of all the universe and beyond, how could her name roll out of her lips like that? "why don’t you take a look at the drawings we have here, see if you like one. If you don't, we can always come up with something for you."

She then pushed some heavy black portfolio across the counter towards Kara and opened the leather front cover to show her the first drawing. They were all separated by plastic, and she started the task of turning the pages while trying very hard to look at the drawings and not at the woman in front of her. She wasn't sure because she wouldn’t dare to look up, but she could feel green eyes staring at her and her blush returned full force.

"So..." she heard after a couple of minutes in silence. "What kind of dare you lost?"

Kara took full offense on that, glaring at her for a moment before going back to the portfolio. She had gotten on the dragon section and decided to skip it all together. "There was no dare."

The woman hummed, watched her for another minute, and then leaned over with her forearms touching the counter. She reached out, taking the plastic from Kara's fingers, and started skipping the pages until they reached the flowers. Kara looked up, catching a glimpse of the woman's arm, before meeting green eyes with a light glare.

The woman shrugged. "You look like a flower kind of girl."

"What else do I look like to you?" Kara mumbled back and stubbornly went back to the drawing she was seeing before - the ships and anchors section - even though she left a finger marking the flowers page.

The brunette seemed even more amused now, barely able to hide her smile, and she chuckled once when Kara turned the page to see another ship. "Like you randomly decided to get a tattoo because someone pissed you off."

Kara tried not to give her the satisfaction of being right, deciding to focus on studying every ship and every anchor. She heard another chuckle, but the woman wisely didn’t push the subject.

"You could save us a lot of time by just going to the flowers."

Fine, maybe she was right about that too. Kara would never pick a ship, or a dragon, or a coffee cup, or any other drawing she saw before. Although Kara never thought what type of drawing she would get tattooed. With a sigh, she went back to the flowers, throwing the woman a dirty look when she huffed a laugh.

"Hey," she said, raising her hands in playful defense, "if I'm going to do something that you will regret tomorrow, at least let me help."

"Aren't you going to try to talk me out of this?" Kara asked, remembering when Jack asked Nia five times if she was sure before touching her skin with the needle.

"No," another shrug. "I will get my money and you will get the regret. Works fine by me."

Kara scoffed and shook her head, but finally spotted something she liked. It was a rose, not larger than a paper ball, black and white with a few leafs to the side. She was almost pointing that one out when she heard a deep sigh and looked up. The brunette was staring down at the drawing with enough judgment that Kara changed her mind in a blink.

"What?" She still asked because it was a beautiful flower.

"Nothing, it's just... does that even mean something to you?"

Kara looked back at the rose and frowned. "I like roses," she defended herself.

"I like kale, but I won’t tattoo that."

"You like kale?" Kara didn’t mean to sound so disgusted by it but it was stronger than her. Her face twisted in a grimace, shocked more than anything.

The other woman laughed a real laugh this time, and Kara felt the sound into her xcvery core. "Please, don't ask me to tattoo a burger on you. You're too pretty for that."

It was like she knew exactly what those words would do to Kara because she winked right after, making her blush ten times more. "What do you suggest, then?"

The tattooed brunette smiled and tapped her finger on top of the rose. "If you liked this one, it's fine, but I would go with..." She let her voice die as she started turning the pages until she found what she was looking for. "This one."

Kara looked at the drawing and was immediately sold to the idea. It wasn't just any flower. It was a plumeria. Well, two plumerias side by side, with a few leafs to the sides and a mandala carefully placed behind them like it was the third flower. She knew she wanted that one the second her eyes landed on it.

"It would look good on you," she kept talking. "I wouldn’t add any color, though." Kara kept nodding although she was only half paying attention now that she had found the right one. Her silence must have sent twisted signals because the woman’s voice became softer. "I know I said I wouldn’t try to talk you out of this but... are you sure?"

Kara’s eyes moved up then, metting slightly concerned green eyes, and she smiled. "Yes. I'm sure."

The woman studied her face for a few seconds before she nodded once. "Okay, then. Where do you want it?"

Shit.

The panic on her face told her out again and the woman’s laugh filled the space around them like a melody. "Come on, we can figure it out inside."

‘Inside’ being a closed room very similar to the one Nia had gotten her tattoo, albeit it was clear that that one wasn't Jack's. First, it lacked the smell of cigars and heavy cologne that Kara smelled last time and made her nose itch. But it also held a more personal touch like more drawings and a few words scribbled on the black walls. Kara didn’t feel nervous while the woman turned the sign from open to close, explaining that she was the only one who worked on Tuesdays' nights. She also didn’t feel nervous when she entered the room and spotted the comfortable chair she would be sitting on. What made her nervous again was taking her shirt off so she could decide where she wanted the plumerias to be.

She placed the printed drawing on several parts of both of her arms, her shoulders and asked the brunette to hold it at some spots on her back as well. But Kara was only satisfied when she put the paper against the right side of her ribs, a few centimeters below her bra. The woman gave her a knowing look and arched one eyebrow when she said that was the place she wanted her tattoo.

"Are you sure? It can be quite a painful area to get a tattoo, especially if it's your first one."

Again, she wasn't making fun of Kara and she appreciated it, but she also wasn't going to change her mind. "I'm sure."

"Okay. I will put the outlines, then."

It was only when the brunette had her hands against her side and her face a few inches from her chest that Kara realized she didn’t even know who she was. "Hey, I, uh, I didn't catch your name before."

Green eyes glanced up, bright and slightly amused, before they returned to the task of perfectly positioning the flowers on her ribs. "Lena."

"Lena," Kara found herself echoing the name in a whisper before she could stop herself. Lena looked up again, even more amused than before, and Kara felt herself blushing. "It... it suits you."

She had no idea what that was supposed to mean, but Lena smiled and tilted her head to the side. "Thanks." She pushed back the stool she was sitting on. "Take a look at the mirror and see if that's what you want."

Kara took a step closer to see her reflection and tried very hard to ignore the fact that she was standing in front of a stranger in her bra. The plumerias were exactly what she wanted and exactly where she wanted them, and she said that to Lena, who told her to lay down after turning the chair into an improvised bed. While Kara tried to find a comfortable place to lay, she heard Lena slipping on rubber gloves and moving a few things around before approaching her again. She was half expecting her to ask one more time if she was sure, but Lena said nothing when she touched her skin with the black gloves, and raised the needle to her eyes level to make sure it was ready to go.

Kara wasn’t sure if the shivers were from nervousness, the chill air of the room, or the fact that this very attractive woman was touching her just below her breast, but she did her best to ignore it. Lena had pulled her hair into a messy ponytail, Kara realized, and she could see her sharp jawline more easily now. She also spotted five different piercings on the woman’s right ear. For a second, she wondered if Lena could feel her heart beating under her skin or if she could maybe even hear it.

"Be ready for some pain, but try not to move," Lena said while she lowered the needle to her skin. "It will take longer if you keep moving. You also don't want me to fuck this up," she offered Kara a smile to let her know she was joking - at least that's what the blonde hoped for. "Tell me if you need a break."

So, Lena wasn't lying when she said it would hurt. Nia neglected to tell her about the painful part and Kara would make her pay for it by typing down her next article, but, holy crap, it hurt. The first touch of the needle made her jump and hiss, and Lena pulled it away like she knew it was going to happen, giving her a few seconds to recover.

"Sorry," Kara whispered once her body relaxed again.

"It's fine," the brunette mumbled back, totally concentrated on her job now.

It went like that for a few minutes - Kara squeezing her eyes shut, biting her lips, clutching the sides of the chair slash bed, and hissing under her breath whenever she couldn’t hold it back anymore. Until she started to get used to the pain and allowed herself to focus on other things. Her eyes trailed to the few drawings hanging on the walls, taking in the delicate traces and the lack of colors from all of them. She decided that talking would help her with the pain.

"Jack said his boss makes those drawings," she commented lightly.

There was a brief pause before Lena answered her. "That would be me."

"Oh," the blonde breathed out in shock. "So, you..."

"I'm the owner, yes." There was another pause while Lena cleaned her skin with a soft paper. "I used to work for a tattoo artist back in Metropolis before I decided to open my own business. Jack followed me."

"Well, you certainly have talent. Your drawings are beautiful."

"On paper," Lena teased and Kara didn’t need to look at her to know she was smirking. "Let's see how it translate to your skin."

Kara wanted to play along and tell her to ‘please, don't make something awful that would be permanently marked on my skin’, but she found herself saying something entirely different. "Plumerias were my mom's favorite flowers. My dad would bring them to her every Saturday after work because those were the first flowers he ever gave her." She could still remember her father getting back home on Saturdays right before lunch with a bouquet in his hand to her mom and a box of chocolate for her, all smiles and offering hugs. If she tried hard enough, Kara could still remember the smell of her mom's stew mixed with the flowers' smell, could still taste the chocolate. "They died almost fifteen years ago."

Kara had no idea why she was sharing those things with this stranger wearing black rubber gloves and breathing too close to her ribs, but she also couldn't stop. Maybe it was a tattoo thing, like sharing too much about your relationships while cutting your hair.

Lena didn’t shy away, though. She made sure their eyes were locked before saying, "Let's make sure those are perfect, then," and went back to work.

Kara felt herself relaxing more after that, although she didn’t say anything else for a few minutes. "I work as a reporter to a magazine," she found herself saying. "My boss is... both of them are impossible to deal with. I dream about throwing them into space sometimes, but... I love my job. One of them is the reason I'm here today."

"Who should I be thanking?"

Kara blushed one more time, even if she wasn't sure it was said to be flirtatious or if she was just imagining it. "Cat means well, she just... push some buttons sometimes."

"Well," Lena stopped her movements to look at Kara again, this time with a soft smile. "I will be sending this Cat some flowers anyway."

The blonde chuckled at that. "Go back to work. I don't want to end up with a dragon on my ribs."

Lena hummed, eyes dropping back to the outlines of the flowers and needle touching skin again. "I wouldn’t draw a dragon on you," she contemplated. "You're more of an iguana kind of girl."

Kara gasped in faked offense and turned her head to fully stare at Lena with narrowed eyes. "How dare you? You know nothing about me!"

The tattoo artist shrugged, not bothered by her explosion. "Maybe a kitty." Kara huffed and puffed, letting her body fall back on the chair, and did her best to keep frowning. "Definitely a kitty," she heard Lena whispering under her breath, playfully and amused, and Kara was soon smiling. "So... will your boyfriend approve this?"

"Are you fishing for information about me?" Kara teased.

"Huh," Lena sighed. "You didn’t sound this confident when you were stumbling over your words when you first saw me."

She was sure her entire body turned pink with that and she mumbled weakly that: "I was nervous about getting a tattoo."

"Yes, of course," Lena replied and Kara blushed again.

"No boyfriend," she ended up replying because the other alternative was to dig a bigger hole to herself. "Or a girlfriend."

She was ready for another teasing from the other woman, but Lena pulled back instead and eyed her tattoo with her head tilted to the side. "I need you to hold your breath for a few seconds, okay? I'm getting to a delicate part and it would be better if you hold it for, like, ten seconds."

Kara nodded and got ready to pull in a breath to hold it while Lena got her needle ready to go again. When the other woman said so, Kara took in a large intake of breath but, as soon as the needle touched her again, she exhaled in surprise when the pain shot to every nerve in her body.

"I know," Lena said. "It's the hardest part. I promise to be done with it as fast as possible. Can we try again?"

There weren't many options since Kara was already in the middle of getting her tattoo done, so she nodded and waited for the new signal. Kara grabbed the chair with both of her hands, pressed her eyes tightly shut, bit her bottom lip and held her breath for the longest ten seconds of her life before Lena tapped her skin and pulled away with a smile.

"There," she declared in her husky tone. "Good girl."

It was embarrassing how those two words made Kara react. She gasped, the breath still stuck in her lungs almost causing her to choke, and her entire body went stiff when a shiver left goosebumps all over her skin on its way down her spine. She couldn't see Lena and that was a blessing because she could feel the pause that her reaction gave the brunette. So, maybe that was a weird way to find out a praise kink, Kara decided while praying that Lena would brush it as a perfectly normal reaction to have.

"That was interesting," Lena whispered and, this time, the blonde knew she wasn't supposed to have heard that.

The blonde bit her bottom lip so hard that she could feel the taste of blood and she was totally sure that Lena could hear how fast her heart was beating. She could probably feel it, and, God, that was so embarrassing. Kara had half a piece of mind to just pull back her shirt, leave and never go back there, but the other woman didn’t give her time to react before she was once more piercing her skin with the needle. It was still painful, although the mortification she felt numbed it a little bit.

Lena didn’t sound so cocky when she spoke again and she even had to clear her throat so the words would come out less hoarse and more audible. “Just a while longer and we will be done. Can you handle it or should we finish it another day?”

Kara didn’t trust herself to ever come back – and not just because of what had just happened but also because she didn’t think she would be brave enough to get any tattoo needle to ever touch her again. So, she exhaled slowly and nodded. Lena went back to the draw immediately after that and they fell in a half comfortable silence until the trickiest part was over. Or, at least, that’s what Kara thought the trickiest part was because it hurt like hell and Lena had this crinkle between her brows when she glanced back that made her look... cute. Even with the tattoos and the five different piercing sets on her ears, the black clothes, the black room and her undeniable confidence.

It wasn’t until Lena leaned away to get more ink that she spoke again. “Plumerias were very common where I lived.”

Kara thought back on their conversation and wondered aloud, “Metropolis?”

“Ireland,” she corrected gently.

“Oh,” Kara breathed out and then hissed when the needle was back to her ribs.

“Not many people know I’m Irish, so I’m trusting you with this secret, Kara.”

She could hear the joke in the woman’s voice and Lena even poked her side playfully, and Kara heard herself giggling like a schoolgirl. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“That’s not how it works,” Lena declared with a huff. “Now you need to tell me a secret of yours.”

“What?”

“Yes, so we’re even and I can make sure you will never tell anyone what I just told you.”

“It’s not like you just confessed a murder,” Kara argued with an eye roll that was quite too fond to be directed to someone who she had met only two or three hours before.

Lena looked up for a second and their eyes met, making Kara’s face flush red. She was pulling a very uncomfortable position to keep her head raised and turned to the side so she could watch the other woman, and she had just been caught doing that one more time. “No? Well, you shouldn’t go to my office then.”

Kara hummed, trying to sound unimpressed by the joke while fighting back a laugh, and shrugged. “I knew it was weird I didn’t see Jack.”

The brunette let out a breathy chuckle, her hot breath hitting Kara’s side and making her shiver again, before she pursed her lips. “I see you’re too fond of Jack already.”

“Jealous?”

Lena quirked one dark eyebrow and gave her a look – the type of look that Kara tried to pull out her entire life while trying to look all sexy and misterious and was never able to do it – that made the blonde’s entire body warm up. “I’m the one poking your skin with a needle right now, so I think he should be the jealous one.”

Yes, Kara couldn’t keep up with that. She was weird, she rambled, she stuttered more times than not, and just, overall, was terrible at the whole flirting thing. Lena, on the other hand, seemed to be a master on it. Kara didn’t really stand a chance against it, not even for a second. She could try, pull out a word or a phrase here and there, but, in the end, Lena would find a way to leave her blushing and flustered so easily that made her head spin.

(She couldn’t be sure if Lena was just that good or if Kara was just super gay, but, whatever it was, it was working wonderfully)

“Now, come on, spill a secret,” Lena said after a long silence that stretched between them while they just stared at each other’s eyes.

Kara felt hypnotized by the green eyes and that was so unfair. So, damn, unfair. “I get my boss’ coffee order wrong every day.”

Lena stopped with the tattoo again to blink at her a couple of times in what seemed to be confusion. Then, she tilted her head to the side, glanced to the ceiling and opened her mouth as if she was going to say something. No sound came out, she closed her mouth again, and she looked so adorable that Kara felt her rambling coming to the surface again.

“Cat has this really complicated order at Starbucks that makes my head hurt just to think about. 3% fat, quarter milk, a spoon and a half of organic sugar, or whatever that is. It’s my job to get her coffee every morning and there’s no Starbucks close to my apartment, so I stop at another place called Noonan’s and get an order from there.” Lena still hadn’t said anything and Kara couldn’t bring herself to stop talking. “I used to work there, so I have a discount. I can buy a coffee for myself too with the same amount of money I would spend at Starbucks. And she never noticed it!”

There was a pause where Kara tried to come up with more things to say before a loud laugh cut the space around her. She looked at Lena with wide eyes and only slightly offended by her reaction, but the other woman was too busy laughing at her expense to notice it. The brunette used the back of her hand to cover her mouth while she shook her head and kept laughing freely.

“I’m sorry,” Lena said, waving her hand, before being interrupted by her own laugh. “It’s just... Fuck! That’s the worse thing you ever did in your life?” The tattoo artist looked at her again with her eyes crinkling at the sides and Kara felt her anger melting away.

“What? Did you expect a murder?”

“I was hoping that you would say you spit on her coffee, at least.”

Kara gasped. “I would never do that!”

Lena narrowed her eyes at her, a tiny smirk adorning her lips. “But you think about it, don’t you?”

“Every day,” she admitted with a groan, letting her head fall back against the chair.

The brunette laughed again and a cold hand came to rest against her thigh, making Kara’s body vibrate from head to toe. “I won’t tell your secret if you don’t tell mine.” Lena winked – winked – at her and Kara felt her throat too dry all of sudden. The woman chuckled again when the blonde gulped before she gently tapped the hard muscle of Kara’s thigh. “We’re done here.”

“Oh.” Kara blinked in surprise and her eyes immediately fell to her ribs. The skin was red and swollen, but she could see the delicate lines of the flowers and the leaves, and she was hit by the urge to cry all at once. She felt like a little girl again, being six or seven, and running to the door to meet her father, seeing the plumerias in his left hand and the chocolate on his right.

“Hey,” Lena called her gently, ducking her head to be able to catch the blue eyes again. “You're fine over there? I had people regretting tattoos before, but not so fast.”

Kara laughed and shook her head, trying to discreetly brush a tear from the corner of her eyes. “Everything is fine. It’s really beautiful.”

“Well, don’t say that before you take a better look,” Lena pushed her stool away and got up with a refreshed excitement. “Come on, stand up so you can look at it in the mirror.”

That’s what Kara did, sliding off the chair and walking with slightly trembling legs to the full body mirror that she had seen before. The fact that she still didn’t have her shirt on was in the back of her mind while her eyes traced the ink. It looked even better on her ribs than it looked on the paper and she made sure to tell the other woman that, earning a smile that she doubted she would ever be able to forget.

"Here." She turned around to see Lena's hand reaching out a piece of white chalk between her long fingers and sporting a kind of smile that Kara hadn’t seen on her yet - satisfied, the type of smile you give after accomplishing a task that meant something to you. "All of my clients have to write something on the walls. It's tradition," Lena shrugged in the end.

Kara’s eyes swept through the room again, taking in the black walls and words written in almost every inch available under a new light. There were small praises, thanks, some jokes and even a few doodles, and Kara wondered what she could write that could sum up her entire experience inside Lena's tattoo shop. She took the chalk more out of instinct, her brain still working on finding the right words, and Kara took a few steps around the room until she found the right place to write.

It was just below one of Lena's drawings that were hanging from a string, between a Scooby-Doo doodle and the message of someone saying they loved their new rose tattoo. Kara’s handwriting wasn't the best one - sloppy and crooked - and it looked even worse when she was trying to write on a wall, but she managed to write her first and last name to make it look readable. Then, she added her phone number under it and put the chalk inside the small box she found just beside her. Kara turned around making sure her body would cover what she had just written, suddenly feeling too nervous about it, and accepted the plastic foil paper Lena handed her.

"Remember to put on the ointment I told you about and keep it covered so it heals. It should be all healed in a week, tops. You're free to call if you have any doubts."

Lena led the way out of the room and they found themselves once again at the reception desk. Lena picked up the pen she had played with before and scribbled something on a piece of paper beside the computer while Kara reached out for her wallet in the pocket of her trousers. Their fingers brushed when she handed Lena the money and her face flushed red for the millionth time that night. Lena gave her a knowing smile before putting the money away and just like that they realized that they would part ways soon. A small part of Kara, primal and shameless, tried to come up with any reason that would make her stay for a while longer. Anything would do, really.

Even so, there was no reason for her to stay and Kara tried to mask her unjustified sadness by joining her hands in front of her body and forcing a smile to look real. “Thank you again.”

Lena waved a hand dismissively, the pen still hanging between two fingers, before her hand came to rest on top of the other one on the desk. “It was my pleasure.”

“If I regret it in the morning, I will come back with a vengeance,” Kara joked, swaying on her heels, and the laugh that came from the other woman was worth any type of regret she might end up having in the near future.

“As much as I would like to see you again, I would hate for that to be the reason you came back.”

Lena winked at her and Kara’s mouth hang open before she could stop herself. That made the brunette laugh in delight, made a deep blush rise from her neck to her cheeks, and Kara started taking steps back before she could embarrass herself anymore. Alex, Nia and all of their friends were right: she’s a gay disaster. None of them would be able to judge her if they just saw Lena though, of that she was sure.

Stumbling over one of the chairs, Kara let out a nervous laugh and, to her utter terror, she pointed finger guns at Lena. “Have, ah, have a good night, ma’am.”

She missed the door handle twice before she was able to open the door and, by the time she looked at Lena again, the other woman was smiling broadly at her. Ducking her head, Kara walked out the door and let it close behind her. Once the slightly chill air of the night hit her face, she closed her eyes and resisted the urge to hit herself for some very stupid decisions made inside that shop. She wondered if she would ever be able to live it down if any of her friends ever found out she just did finger guns at a beautiful woman as a way to say goodbye.

Well, to be fair, she wasn’t sure any of her friends would let her live it down when they found out about her very spontaneous tattoo.

God, Alex was going to kill her. Not for getting a tattoo, but for doing so without giving it enough thought. And, for Christ’s sake, Alex could be a real pain in the ass when she decided to lecture her for whatever reason it was. She was so not ready to deal with that.

It was only when she opened her eyes again that she realized she was still standing outside the tattoo shop – and that Lena could still very easily see her from her place behind the counter – and, with another blush, Kara pushed herself to start walking. Her apartment was only five more blocks down the street and she took that time to clear her mind from anything negative she was thinking about.

If her crazy and very unusual night taught her anything was that she had the thing inside her that could make her do some very adventurous things. She was capable of doing those things. Maybe randomly getting a tattoo wasn’t the ideal way to prove that to herself, but, damn, she had just renewed faith in herself.

Her poor attempts at flirting were the last thing on her mind when she pushed the door to her studio apartment open and stepped inside, making a beeline to where she had left her laptop earlier that day on the small kitchen table. She pulled a chair after turning the computer on and, reaching out for an apple inside the fruit bowl, she waited for the laptop to come to life so she could open a new file to start typing. She had an article to write, and a trip to plan.

 XxxxxxxX

 It was two days later – after Alex had scolded her for making decisions in a rush, after Nia took pictures of their tattoos side by side to post on her Instagram, after Querl had awkwardly given her a thumbs up, after James raised his eyebrows, after Winn yelped in shock – that something changed.

Kara was lazily reading something Nia had written so she could suggest some corrections before the girl submitted it to Snapper’s approval, when her phone buzzed from its place beside her mousepad – her rainbow mousepad, thanks to Winn. She picked it up, thinking it was Alex inviting her for lunch so she could yell at her a few more times, but the number who had texted her was an unsaved one. She frowned, but didn’t give it much thought before unlocking her screen to read it.

“Since you didn’t barge inside my shop to kill me, I take it that you didn’t regret it?”

The smile that curled her lips up came from within her and it was apparently too obvious because Nia, who was sitting across from her, gave her a weird look and arched one eyebrow in question. Kara shook her head, biting her bottom lip, and turned her chair around so the girl couldn’t see her anymore before typing a reply.

“I never said I was going to kill you.”

“The threat was clear to me,” came the next text just a few seconds later and Kara chuckled to herself.

“Please, don’t tell me you were scared.”

“Why do you think it took me two days to reach out?”

Kara paused at that. She had spent the last two days being sure that, despite their easy flirt with each other, Lena didn’t actually want to talk or see her again. So, to have her texting her now was really... reawakening something inside her.

“Who are you texting?”

Kara jumped on her chair, startled by Nia’s voice so close to her ear all of sudden, her phone almost slipping from her fingers and crashing on the floor. Thankfully, her reflexes were still working and she was able to grab it, but not without throwing a glare at Nia for scaring her like that. The girl gave her a sheepish smile, although she shrugged and didn’t back away from where she had perched on the corner of Kara’s desk to look over her shoulder.

“No one,” came the childish, and not at all convincing, reply and Kara didn’t need to look at her friend again to know she was busted. Now Nia was not going to let it down.

“Really? Because you have been smiling to your phone for five minutes and you just smile like that when Alex says she’s bringing extra potstickers for game night.” Nia smirked and leaned over, trying to read the texts again, but Kara quickly pressed the phone against her chest to block her view.

“Alex just invited me for lunch,” Kara attempted to throw her off.

However, Nia arched her eyebrows. “Really? Because I just texted Kelly asking her to go to that vegan place with me and she said she already has plans.” A pause. “With Alex.” Another pause. “For lunch.”

Kara groaned and turned her chair so she was facing her computer again, slipping her phone screen down on the table. “Fine, it wasn’t Alex, but I’m not going to say anything.”

“Okay.” Her friend gave up way too faster than usual and Kara watched her with narrowed eyes as the girl jumped from her desk to turn the corner back to her own cubicle. Nia was about to sit down when she tried to snatch Kara’s phone away with one surprisingly fast move, but the blonde was even faster, taking it out of her reach in the last second. “Damn.”

Kara rolled her eyes and pushed her chair back. She grabbed her jacket from the back of the chair, throwing it over her shoulders and slipping her phone inside one of the pockets, and threw an overly sweet, clearly fake, smile at Nia. “Now you will have to eat alone because I won’t have lunch with you either.”

Nia stuck her tongue out at her. “I will call Querl!”

Kara waited until she was safely inside the elevator before opening her texts again. There were three more texts since the last time she looked and a smile immediately spread over her face when she read them.

“Okay, I confess, I was a little nervous.”

“You still there? You didn’t change your mind, did you?”

“About the tattoo, not the... leaving your name and number on my wall thing.”

She barely noticed when someone entered the elevator a few floors below, too focused on replying to the texts.

“You? Nervous? You don’t look like the type of girl that gets nervous. And no, I didn’t change my mind about any of those things, actually.”

A new text only came after she was already walking down the street to Noonan’s, but she wrote a quick text to invite Winn for lunch before opening Lena’s text.

“I’m also not the type to text any of the numbers left on my walls. And good.”

“Do you get a lot of numbers on your walls?” Kara asked and she had to make a conscious effort to cross the street to Noonan’s instead of walking straight for a few more blocks to the tattoo shop. She could picture Lena leaning against the counter with her gorgeous smirk and her impressive tattoos – and even more impressive cleavage.

“Jack enjoys them more than I do.”

Kara was about to make a comment about Jack but another text came in before she could and she stopped in her tracks so suddenly that the man walking behind her shoved against her shoulder. She tripped over a few steps, but quickly held herself again to read the words over and over in disbelief. She hoped, of course, but that was... wow.

“I don’t want to be too straightforward here, or overly confident or something, but I have a client coming in five minutes, so I don’t have much time. This won’t sound romantic at all, but would you like to have dinner with me? Tomorrow?”

Kara didn’t have to think too much about her answer, of course. Alex would give her a piece of her mind for agreeing to go out with someone she barely knew – and ‘that’s the whole point of going out to meet people’ was not a good argument on her sister’s book – but Kara would deal with it later. Right now, she had a very gorgeous woman asking her out and she already knew what her answer would be.

“I would love to.”

“What? Really?” Kara chuckled at the rushed text she received back, but another one came just a second later. “Pretend you didn’t read that. I meant ‘okay, great!’.”

Chuckling again, Kara typed a new message. “I know you were the one who asked me out, but may I suggest a place? I don’t have a car and it’s close to both of our workplaces.”

“Whatever you want, just text me address. Let’s say, tomorrow at 7 pm?”

“Can’t wait.”

 XxxxxxxX

 “Hey, Kara?”

“Yes?” She asked, not taking her eyes away from her computer screen and typing away as fast as she could to be able to put all the ideas in her new article. She had never written like that before, but she wasn’t about to complain about small inspirations spikes.

“The front desk called and said there’s a pack for Cat downstairs. Can you pick it up?”

With a small sigh, not because she was mad at Winn for interrupting her but because she would have to go all out of the way to pick a pack she didn’t even know was going to come in, Kara saved her file and pushed her chair back. Nia glanced up and was about to remove her earphones, ready to follow Kara to whatever she was going to learn more about the journalism world, but the blonde made some gestures with her hand that she hoped meant ‘boring things, stay here’ before she started making her way to the elevator.

Jenny, the woman that stayed at the front desk, was kind, around Eliza’s age, and very chatty, which worked fine with Kara when she wanted to waste a few minutes talking along. “Good morning, Kara! How are you?”

“I’m great, Jenny. And you?”

“I’m fine. What happened? I recognize that smile.”

Kara tilted her head to the side, although she couldn’t stop smiling, doesn’t matter how hard she was trying. “What smile?”

Jenny narrowed her eyes and waved a finger at her playfully. “That’s the smile of someone who had a very good night.”

The blonde could feel her face heating up and a nervous chuckle escaped her lips before she could stop herself. She had been leaning against the counter, but she leaned her torso back and tapped her fingers against the hard surface nervously. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Right,” Jenny scoffed, rolled her eyes and started pulling out the packages that she would need to take upstairs with her. There was a yellow thing that was sent by one of the photographers of the last shooting they made, some letters and a few small boxes, which made Kara believe Jenny had been holding those things with her for at least a few days. Cat hadn’t asked for any of that, so it wasn’t a problem. “Don’t tell me then. You don’t have to. Is all over your face.”

Blushing even harder, Kara huffed an anxious laugh and looked down at the counter. She put one hand on her hip as the other one raised to push her glasses up her nose, but she kept her eyes down to avoid seeing the smirk on Jenny’s face. She would have to agree with her, if she did. Because she knew it was, in fact, written all over her face. She hadn’t been able to stop smiling since she woke up that morning – who was she kidding? It had been like that since dinner last night.

It had a reason – and the reason had a name – but she was not going to share any personal details about her life with Jenny. The old woman had the tendency to share everyone’s secrets – which was another reason Kara liked to talk with her so much, but she would never admit to being a gossip girl. She did tell Nia, mostly because her friend wouldn’t stop asking why Kara was fifteen minutes late that morning, though she had made the girl promise not to tell anyone.

It was still pretty new, she had argued.

“If you two slept together, it’s not that new,” Nia had teased back, making her face turn red so fast that James, that had been coming back from the bathroom, asked if she was feeling well.

Even if the whole ‘sleeping together on the first date’ thing was new to her, Kara hadn’t regretted it in the morning. Much like the tattoo. Although, it would be remarkably harder to regret sleeping with Lena when the said woman was spooning her from behind than it was to regret a tattoo that recquired a lot of afterward care. Either way, Kara was living the best morning in her life and it clearly showed on her face.

“Looks like you’re not the only one who’s having a great time.” Jenny’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts and Kara looked up in time to see the woman pulling a big bouquet from under the counter.

The flowers looked cheap and scruffy, which made it seem like someone had just thrown them together without much care. They were yellow and pink daisies, the colors clashed and didn’t work well together, but the card hidden between the flowers was black and easy to see. She knew she shouldn’t because it had her boss’ name outside the card and it was clearly not for her to see, but curiosity took the best of her – that and the fact that the card had been clearly already open, and by Jenny’s face she knew who had done it.

“Thank you – L”

Well, that wasn’t helpful at all.

Sighing and feeling silly for stealing a look, she put the card back and started to try to find a way to pick everything she needed to take back with her. She knew there was a small cart some other companies in the building used to transport stocks and other products, but she was sure she could use her hands if she just pilled everything right. Kara had just come up with a plan when Jenny spoke again.

“There’s also this one. It doesn’t have a card, but it came with the bouquet. Same delivery. The guy couldn’t say anything about it, but I’m sure we can find something if we call the shop and...”

“I think there’s no need,” Kara interrupted gently, without looking up from the growing pile in one of her hands, but she raised her head eventually.

Only to lose track of every thought she was having.

Jenny had put a single plumeria on top of the counter. As the woman had said, there was no card or any type of identification – who it came from or who was supposed to receive it – but Kara connected the dots quite easily. Smiling, she reached over to grab the simple flower and brought it closer to her face to smell it.

“Oh, I see.”

“I have to go!” Kara said suddenly, knowing everyone in the building would know she had just randomly smelled a flower at the front desk that morning. “See you, Jen!”

The look on Cat’s face when Kara gave her the bouquet, not offering any other explanation othan than that there was a card attached to it, was worth every step on the stairs she had to walk up, holding the woman’s coffee every morning. As soon as she was back to her desk, Kara pulled her phone from her pocket and sent a text before Nia could start asking any questions.

“Thought you said that you’re not good with romance.”

The reply didn’t come right away, Kara ended up putting her phone to the side and went back to work. However, as soon as it rang beside her, she grabbed it.

“Guess we’re both learning new things about ourselves. Want to have lunch together?”

And, yes, she totally did.

#supercorp #kara danvers x lena luthor #lena luthor x kara danvers #kara danvers #lena luthor #supergirl #fic #fanfic #my fic #ao3 #alex danvers #kelly olsen #winn scott #jack spheer #james olsen #tattoo shop au #au #alternate universe #melissa benoist #katie mcgrath

[watermelonlipstick]

Dreams, Chapter 15

If you haven’t read this series before, you might want to start on Chapter 1, or check out the Dreams Masterlist! Here’s the series description:

When Dean dies for good leaving Sam and his girlfriend (the reader) behind, they must figure out how to carry on without him. Alone, reeling, and unsure what to do next, trying to honor Dean’s memory and follow their hearts gets even more complicated when their nightmares become dreams that feel a little too real.

Title: Dreams, Chapter 15

Pairing: (past) Dean Winchester x Reader, (eventual) Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 3310

Summary: The reader and Sam take an irrevocable step forward.

Warnings: angst, FLUFF, swearing, s l o w  b u r n, this section is emotional smut

           The drive home felt electric and giddy and nauseatingly tense, like driving back from prom with a little foil packet burning a hole in your pocket. It had been delicious agony working through the rest of the shift on stolen hand grazes and smirks across the length of the bar, suspense winding in your throat, especially wearing Sam’s shirt, the incredible scent of him floating around you in a halo every time you moved. Now that it was so close you didn’t know what to do with it. At the very least, Sam didn’t seem to either as you noticed him swallowing far more often than he needed to and cranking the stereo. He drove fast, almost like—no, don’t think that, not right now—and you watched for deer on the sides of the road partly to keep from getting into an accident and partly for something to distract even a fraction of your mind from the way Sam’s lips had felt on yours when he had finally let go, how they must feel everywhere else.

           When he pulled into the driveway, you both sat still in the front seat for a beat of silence.

           “I’m—uh, I’m going to take a shower,” Sam said, looking toward your side of the car but not quite meeting your eyes.

           “Yeah, okay, good idea,” you answered. You were still sticky with the broken-keg-beer from hours ago and a shower sounded divine, but you knew saying something about getting cleaned up too wouldn’t land right in the charge of this moment. The two of you awkwardly walked inside, a movement you’d done so many times that suddenly felt so unfamiliar it was a little spooky. Sam ducked into the shower without another word and you didn’t know what to do in your own house.

           Digging through your clothes, you finally found a matching bra and panty set you hadn’t worn in…you stopped yourself from thinking about exactly how long. It was black and lacy but in a sort of sensible way; probably wouldn’t have been fancy for a person who didn’t usually buy her undergarments with durability and lack of movement while running and fighting in mind, but it was what you had and it certainly seemed like a more appropriate thing to wear than one of the old t-shirts of Dean’s you normally changed into after work. You bit your lip and beat back a moment of frustrated nerves, imagining the extremely awkward put-on seduction of walking through the cabin in just the set, and grabbed a black tank top and yoga pants out too, bundling all the garments together.

           Sam walked into the bedroom with a towel slung sinfully low on his hips, and the sight made your breath catch in your throat. The tension required to hold the terry in place flexed one pec as a few droplets of water shook loose from his hair and slid down it.

           You grabbed the bundle of clothes in your hand and gestured behind him. “My turn.”

           Sam nodded, side stepping to let you out of the doorway.

           It was a longer shower than you’d taken in a long time, going over your legs obsessively with the dullish disposable razor you’d been using and washing your hair twice to make sure to get any residual beer out of it. Finally you knew you couldn’t keep stalling and got out, running a palm of lotion over your body and putting on the black set, yoga pants, and tank top. You turned your head over to flip your hair a few times, hoping for a little more volume and a little less wet rat, and wished that you’d had some kind of perfume or something, had held onto anything from back when you thought things like that had a point, when you cared about being enticing. How glamorous, all this old cotton and dripping hair for what felt like a monumental turning point. No time to think about that now. You threw your towel up on the rack and headed back to the bedroom.

           Sam was sitting on the edge of the bed with his elbows resting on his ankles, wearing a t-shirt and jeans, bare feet tapping on the floor. Something about knowing that he had gotten re-dressed and not even in the old sweats he normally slept in, had thought about it for at least a moment, made you feel better. His head snapped up when you walked in. “H-hey,” he breathed.

           “Hey.” You noticed he’d straightened the already made up bed and taken the pictures of Dean off the wall, neatly stacked on the dresser in the corner of the room.

           When Sam saw your eyes linger on the spot they had been, he opened his mouth. A small shake of your head stopped him from saying anything and you sat beside him. “So.”

           Sam chuckled. “So.”

           “I feel like we just got shut in a closet to play 7 minutes in heaven.”

           “I know I said I’m ready but we don’t have to—”

           “No, that’s not what I mean. Sorry, I just—I haven’t felt this nervous in a long time.”

           “Me neither.”

           You flopped back on the bed, feeling your wet hair fan out a touch around you and looking up at the ceiling. The mattress shifted under Sam’s weight when he laid back next to you, and after a beat you turned to your side, propping up your head on one palm and feeling the oppressive sparks of the moment burn into your skin, heat your cheeks. “There are so many times I could’ve said this, Sam, but you saved my life. I don’t kn—there’s just no way I would’ve made it by myself.”

           He dipped his head toward you, the low light casting a severe shadow off of his jaw and highlighting the contrast between the concentric rings of green-blue-honey in his eyes. “I could say the same to you.” You waited a second, dragging your eyes down the high slope of his cheekbone and counting the tiny dots of stubble where its gradient began on his cheek.

           Slowly, you tipped yourself over him, looping one leg over his waist and placing a hand above each of his shoulders on the mattress. Feeling the heat of his body between your thighs made you feel a bit lightheaded and the way Sam was looking up at you didn’t help, eyes bright and hopeful and a touch awestruck like a true believer listening to a sermon. Big hands floated to your hips, light as anything but each fingertip was rooting you together, connecting you as irrevocably as welded iron. You poured forward into him, stopping a few inches from his face. “I’m—” you started.

           “I love you,” Sam stammered, looking almost surprised when it tumbled out of his mouth, but you caught it between you and breathed it back into him, catching his lips and holding back the groan you wanted to release at their softness, somehow even better than the memory you’d been amplifying in your head all night. You kissed him like a prayer, like saying thank you over and over again for the things he knew you wanted to acknowledge and for all the things he didn’t, every single dried teardrop and gummy worm a pass of your lips against his. One hand moved to your lower back, pressing you together while the other spun through the wet hair at the nape of your neck, thumb cradling the sensitive skin behind your ear and brushing softly back from it, a tiny affection you might not have noticed if everything about this moment wasn’t so amplified.

           When you nipped gently at his lower lip, Sam made a sound close to a whimper deep in his throat before slipping his tongue against yours and drinking you in. He shifted his hips underneath you and used the hands on your back to guide you easily to the mattress, taking care not to place you on top of your hair. You wound your fingers in the fabric of his t-shirt and pulled him closer to you until you were pressed against the full firm stretch of his torso. As you passed your fingers under the hem, Sam leaned back for a second to tug behind his collar and toss the shirt to the ground in one fluid motion, coming back to lay a trail of kisses down the hinge of your jaw and neck, light suction on the exact spot it sloped into collarbone. It was your turn to get out of your tank top; the moment of widened pupils at the reveal dissolved the nerves you’d had about the lace and gave you the confidence to hook your legs around Sam’s hips and drag him as tightly to you as his jeans would allow.

           He slipped tentative fingertips into the waistband of the yoga pants and you parted to let him shimmy them off of your legs, surprised when a tear almost welled in your eyes at the kiss he pressed into the side of your calf—an impulsive reflex betraying Sam’s affection. You sat up, tried to unbutton the worn cotton of his jeans, and realized your hands were shaking. He took your face delicately in his hands and kissed you, soft as anything, and it was Sam, person you knew best in this world, who’d saved your life over and over and over again; if you couldn’t trust him, then who could you trust? The moment was enough to settle you, button coming undone smoothly. He eased off the bed without breaking contact with your lips to shake them off, tipping you onto the mattress delicately when his legs were bare. Arching your back to unhook your bra, you shucked it off carelessly into the depth of the room. Sam raked his eyes over your body and you tried not to shy away from it. “I—uh—are we going to be okay?” he whispered low into the space between you.

           “I think so,” you answered, and it was as much affirmation as you could give, because truthfully you didn’t know. It felt right but your instincts had been wrong before. You wished more than anything that you could’ve kept the sexually charged impulsivity in the bar’s cooler earlier that night, when you were moving on instinct and need and didn’t have time to analyze.

           But Sam was so beautiful, so present and real, almost too warm under your touch, and you reminded yourself that he was the only real thing in your life. He brushed a stray piece of still-damp hair back from your face before bending to his knees on the side of the bed. You got up to your elbows and watched passively as he took the rest of your lace off, leaving you completely exposed save for the cover of his kiss on your inner thigh. Swallowing hard, you felt your lips part as you watched the long muscles of his back pull taut when he moved you to the edge of the bed. The hot breath between your legs was enough to make you see stars around Sam’s head like a halo and then he swirled his tongue around your clit softly, almost too softly, just enough to make you feel hungry with desire. A whine passed your lips and you barely even registered it, so focused on watching the precise even muscles in Sam’s jaw flex and ripple against his cheek, matching them to the mazes he was drawing into you. Wrapping an arm around your thigh to hold you in place, Sam flicked his gaze up for confirmation as he snaked an arm under you, sucking two fingers with his eyes locked on yours before gliding them inside you.

           You gasped creakily as he hook-pressed, the strength of his hands feeling familiar if the feeling wasn’t, tugging out sweet sin rooted deep in your gut. It wound you into a tight coil ready to crack with tensile strength, cables of a centuries old suspension bridge rattling through every muscle in your body. With your back arching into the mattress, Sam lapped and swirled and spoke tongues into you, sturdy latch on your thigh until it was absolutely too much, sent you snapping into a thousand sparking live wires around him as you tried to steady yourself with handfuls of duvet. When you had enough of your wits back about you, you slipped your hands through the drying silk of Sam’s hair and guided him back up, kissing the taste of yourself off of his lips, his chin. Sam laid against you unfurling his body like a scroll, the heavy length of his cock grazing your thigh through his boxers. You gently push-pulled his shoulders to flip him onto on his back, a dazed smile on his face when you licked a stripe down his chest and lightly ran your teeth over a nipple. His chest heaved once when you brushed against his cock and then his breathing went shallow. With your mouth centimeters from his skin, you met his eyes. “Is this still okay?”

           “Y-yeah, yes—yeah,” he said, way too fast to pretend at any semblance of nonchalance, more than fast enough to send you grinning as you tugged the elastic down his hips slowly and caught the weight of him in your palm, hot and crystallized beneath a shimmering drop of precum that you lapped reflexively, drawing a sharp inhale from Sam. Now it was your turn to swirl, rolling the head around your tongue sloppily before taking the first few inches of him into your mouth and sucking against a spinning hand until you built a rhythm. His head rolled back into the bed and he closed his eyes, letting them fly open only when you eased the full length of his cock into your throat slowly, willing your muscles to relax around him and relishing the fuzzy blown-out look in his eyes. You let the withdrawal drag, slipping frictionlessly over his now dripping cock as spit flowed through the gaps between your fingers. Sucking along the underside before taking him down again, you could feel the muscles in his abdomen starting to tense and pulled off, kissing a hip bone before straddling Sam and guiding him inside you carefully.

           To his constant credit—as though there was anything you wouldn’t give him credit for—Sam held perfectly still as you stretched around him. It had been so long, and he probably would’ve been a challenge even if it hadn’t been years since these muscles had been flexed. The knowledge that it would calm down pushed you through the almost-tearing feeling you had, finally resting an inch or two above being flush together and taking a few deep breaths.

           ���Are you okay?” Sam asked, cheeks pink and eyebrows showing his concern even as the tendons in his neck flexed with restraint.

           “Yeah, I just—out of practice,” you answered with a sheepish smirk. He traced down the sides of your thighs with velvet fingertips like a metronome until your body relaxed around him and you began to slide and grind against Sam in earnest.

           He half-raised himself to meet your lips, curving you down so he could kiss you as you moved together. For the second time that night, he took you in his arms and turned you onto the bed, deftly switching your positions without disconnecting from you. His hand still cradled your head protectively while he touched his forehead to yours. Twin exhales mixing in the slowly humidifying air between you, there were so many things you wanted to say but none of the words you could think of felt like enough to encompass the comfort-love-grief-thanks-apology. All you could do was kiss him.

           The two of you fit together exactly and you cupped the back of Sam’s neck as he rocked into you. Weight supported on one hand, he swept a thumb along your cheekbone before leaning down, touching his lips to your forehead, and taking a deep breath of your hair. Such a clear punctuation on his tenderness swelled up hard in your throat and you had to gulp hard to settle it, concentrating instead on the heat pooling in your core through Sam’s deliberate movements. The crescendo reached a fever pitch when he slid a hand to the small of your back and tilted your hips justrightjustlikethat, pressure drilling right into that perfect spot and after a few seconds it was all you could do to throw your head back into the mattress and crack in half.

           Sam sucked at your jugular while you fell to pieces and in other circumstances you might’ve been worried about walking around like a teenager with a hickey, but all you could think of was him around you, inside you, on you, and you wanted as much as you could get. Tugging at his hair and latching your legs around his hips in frantic reflex shoved him over the edge, muscles in his back rippling under your other hand and sweat glistening over the expanse of his neck as it rolled back. He eased off of you, laid down beside you, and wrapped you up in his arms.

           A few hot tears dropped to the bedspread and almost surprised you but didn’t seem to phase Sam, who just tightened his embrace so your cheek rested on the slope of his chest. Time stopped as you lay there, having disappeared between the fissures of reality and straight into Sam. You resisted the impulse to think too much. It was enough to be there, feel the mist of sweat and freshly washed hair cooling into the ether, the comforting heat of Sam’s body where he draped over you. After your muscles resolidified you turned up and kissed him once, more to check in than anything else.

           “So…what now?” you asked, voice sounding muffled and weird after the long silence.

           Sam smiled looking fatigued and content and nervous all at the same time. “Well, we haven’t been struck down yet. Are you tired?”

           It was likely close to 4 or 5 in the morning but sleeping felt like a trap—with all the information you’d gathered about the dreams, it seemed like if you didn’t have one about Dean tonight then you’d both severely misjudged what was happening, which then put the legitimacy or ‘blessing’ of this new relationship with Sam in jeopardy. But it wasn’t like you could stay up forever. And maybe everything would be fine, maybe you could still have your cake and eat it too by staying with Dean at night and carrying on during the days with Sam, holding his hand and starting to see beauty again through its reflection on his face.

           You brushed your teeth in the bathroom mirror together after throwing on the first t-shirt you found, trying not to put too much stock into it when it ended up being Dean’s Poison one with the tear on the left shoulder. It felt right, natural still to be sharing even this little space with Sam, and that had to mean something. He didn’t even look twice at the shirt but was only wearing boxers, having foregone the flannel pants and/or t shirt he normally wore to bed. You weren’t complaining.

           Cuddling up next to Sam didn’t feel odd as it probably should have so long ago. The only differences were the interlacing of his fingers into yours as he covered your lower ribcage with his hand and the way he tucked his chin into your neck as he folded around you. “I—Sam?” you whispered.

           “Mm?”

           “I’m—uh, just. Thank you.”

           Sam didn’t react for a beat, considering or waiting for you to continue you didn’t know. He simply pressed his lips to your stretched-out collar and melted so that his body sunk into yours. It didn’t take you as long as you might’ve thought to fall asleep.

-

Continue to Dreams, Chapter 16

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!

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[atlafan]

A Case of the Giggles - One Shot

a/n: I saw someone send someone else an ask about how they wished more people wrote about laughing or giggling during sex, and I got inspired. Enjoy! 

Words: 3K

Warnings: Fluff and Smut! 

Y/N had a problem with giggling, especially when she was nervous. She’s been like this her entire life, and she’s just accepted it. Sometimes she would have to explain to people, especially at work, that she has a nervous laugh, and that it really didn’t mean she was being a goof. Her current employer thought it was hilarious that she even mentioned it in her interview. She appreciated the honesty. It’s a good thing she didn’t like to gamble because her giggle would give her away.

Her boyfriend, Harry, thought it was the cutest thing in the world. When they first met at a mutual friend’s birthday party, she giggled when he shook her hand.

“Usually I have to work a little harder to make someone laugh.” He said, and winked at her, which made her giggle even more. “It’s nice to finally meet you, I’m Harry.”

“I’m Y/N.” She let go of his hand and tried to take a deep breath. “You and Chris work together, right?”

“Yeah, we’re office neighbors. How do you know him?”

“Childhood friends.”

“Ah, well, lucky him.” He smiled, and of course, she giggled again. He looked at her, almost as if to wonder if she really thought he was that funny.

“I’m so sorry, I…” She giggled. “I have this thing where I laugh if I’m nervous.”

“Oh!” He looked around all the other people at the bar mingling, and dancing, celebrating their friend. “I’ve made you nervous?” He sounded sort of concerned.

“Very.” She giggled.

“I’m so sorry, do you want me to-“ He stared to move away from her.

“No!” She grabbed his wrist. “It’s me, not you. You’re just, um, very handsome…” She blushed, holding back her giggle as best she could.

That was enough for Harry. He talked with her the entire night, and got her number before they parted ways. He thought maybe the giggle would fade, but on their first few dates she found it difficult not to feel nervous around him. He thought it was cute. He sort of felt bad that she had this tell, he at least could hide how nervous he felt. He liked that it made her a little more blunt about how she was feeling.

The first time he kissed her, he had taken her out to the beach for a walk at sunset. He really wanted it to be romantic. It was their third date. Their toes were in the warm sand, his arm was around her as they both looked out at the sunset. He tilted her chin up towards him, and he leaned in. She could barely get through it. She laughed so hard she cried, and she was incredibly embarrassed. Harry assured her it was fine, and he even laughed a little too.

“I ruined it, I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t, just makes it more memorable. I wish you didn’t feel so nervous around me.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“It’s not a bad nervous, it’s like butterflies, the good kind. I really like you.”

“I really like you too.”

A couple of weeks and many more dates later, they made things official. Harry didn’t like playing games, and neither did Y/N, so they were both happy to be on the same page. She giggled less when they kissed, she felt so comfortable with Harry now. She still felt butterflies, but she was able to control her impulse a little more. Because he knew she would easily get nervous, though, they took the physical side of things a little slower. One of the first times they really made out, she wanted to kill herself. She just couldn’t get it together when he started to kiss on her neck. She was straddling him, rolling her hips on him, doing well, and then he started to kiss down her jaw and just under her earlobe.

“Should I stop?” He whispered as he moved some hair away from her face.

“No, it feels good…I’m sorry.” She hid her face in his shoulder. “I’m such a spaz.”

“You’re not, babe.”

“But I always ruin the moment.” She pouted.

“Do you see a speech therapist or, like, any type of therapist? Do you know why you laugh when you get nervous?”

“It’s been like this since I was a kid, and yeah, I do see someone. I mostly just warn people that I do it. I don’t know if anything happened to me…there’s really no medication I can take…”

“It doesn’t bother me, I honestly think it’s adorable.”

“But it’s so frustrating.”

“You don’t do it as much when we’re just kissing now, we just need to work on it.”

“Okay, thanks, Harry.”

She smiled and pecked his lips. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. He was right, it just took a little bit of time, and she didn’t giggle as much while they were making out or groping each other. She would mostly just smile against him, and he loved it. As long as she was having a good time with him, he didn’t really care if she needed to stop to have a giggle.

When it came time to get a tad more intimate, Y/N was feeling really proud of herself. She and Harry were making out on his couch one evening after a dinner date, she had unbuttoned his shirt to kiss down his stomach, and her hands had roamed down to his belt buckle.

“Is this okay?” She asked.

“Course, baby, go for it.” He smiled and she smiled back.

She bit her bottom lip as she undid his pants. She reached her hand inside his pants to palm him at first. She listened to how his breath hitched, feeling good about the way he was reacting to her touch. She was in the zone ready to go. She leaned up to kiss him while she reached inside his boxers to take him fully out. It was when she looked down at his full, hard length when she started giggling, which turned into a full laugh. She felt like she couldn’t breathe, she felt terrible, especially when she saw him growing softer.

“No, please!” She gripped him. “I’m so sorry!” She kept giggling.

“Y/N, Y/N!” He snatched her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Please, try to take a breath.”

She does her best to slow her breathing, but every time she looked down she had to bite back a giggle.

“Just, maybe don’t look at it?’ He suggested.

“I’m so sorry, I’m not laughing because anything’s wrong, it’s just so big and it took me by surprise is all. I really want to blow you, I just got a little nervous because I’m not sure how it’s supposed to fit down my throat.” Her cheeks were red from embarrassment, and her eyes were a little red from the tears that had formed from her laughter.

“No pressure, babe, just take what you can…I know it’s a lot.”

“I may keep my eyes closed…”

“Or just look at me…I sort of like the eye contact.” He blushed.

“Oh, Harry, I wouldn’t be able to keep it together if I looked up and saw you looking at me, I’m sorry.”

“Alright, uh, just try it your way then. It’ll still feel good.” He smiled reassuringly and she got to work.

She closed her eyes as she got her tongue on his tip. She worked over his slit before getting her mouth around him. She pumped what she couldn’t fit in her mouth. His head rolled back as she worked on him. It was a good blow job.

Y/N did a lot for Harry, and he desperately wanted to return the favor, but she just wasn’t ready. She was petrified of ruining the moment. He just wanted to make her feel good. They had been seeing each other for a few months now, he was in love with her, and he wanted to tell her, show her. So, Harry invited her out to his cabin by the lake for a weekend away. She was incredibly excited to have a long weekend away with her man. Things were going so well, her relationships never went this well. Most guys got annoyed with her giggling. Harry was so cool about it!

“Got everything?” He asks on the way up.

“Mhm, double checked my packing list.” She rests her hand on his as he drives. “This’ll be great, babe. Gonna put that new bathing suit I showed you to good use.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to see you wear it.” He kisses her hand. “We’ll have our own little private beach too. I rented a boat for the weekend, we can have a little picnic on the lake.”

“You’re so romantic, I love you.” She let it slip, and then she bursts into laughter, clasping a hand over her mouth. Harry slowly pulls over, and parks the car. “What are you doing?! We’re on the highway.”

“What did you just say?” He turns his body to look at her, squeezing her hand.

“I…I said I love you, Harry.”

Just as she’s about to start laughing again, he cups her face and brings her in for a kiss. It’s tender, but needy. He sucks on her bottom lip before letting her go.

“I love you too.”

“You do?”

“Of course I do!” He laughs. “Was the whole point of bringing you up here, I was gonna tell you this weekend.”

“Great, another thing I ruined.” She pouts.

“No! No, babe, this was perfect. Takes all the pressure off now, I swear.”

“Okay.” She smiles.

He kisses her again before pulling back onto the road. He was right, it did take a lot of the pressure off. They each must have said it five more times on the car ride alone. He couldn’t get enough of it. They both get everything into the cabin, and then he shows her around. She uses the bathroom to freshen up, and then they spend the evening eating food off the grill, and cuddling by a small fire. They were curled up in a blanket looking up at the stars.

“Wanna head in?” He asks her.

“Yeah, that bed looks really comfortable.”

“It is.”

They hold hands as they walk inside. They both sit down on the bed and start kissing. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d be spending the night together, but Harry hoped it would be the first time she’d let him travel a little farther south. She had gotten used to him feeling her breasts, she liked the way he would knead them and tweak her nipples. She even made it through him sucking on them, but that took a bit for her to work up to.

His tongue was in her mouth and she couldn’t help but moan into him. She tugs at the hem of his shirt, and he breaks the kiss to get it off.

“Yours too?” He asks, just to make sure.

“Mhm.” She smiles and takes her shirt off. Her bra was cute, a lacey black number.

“This is so cute, baby.” He pouts. “Did you buy it for me?”

“I saw it while I was shopping for that bathing suit you can’t wait for me to wear.” She giggles.

“Is it part of, um, a matching set?”

“It is.” She giggles again. “Would you like to see?”

“God, yes.”

She stands up and undoes her pants. She lets them drop to the floor. His eyes gaze at her cheeky, lace, black underwear. She turns around in a circle so he can catch the curve of her bum. She looks down at him, and straddles his lap.

“What do you think?”

“You’re so beautiful.”

She cups his jaw and kisses him. She rolls her hips down on him and he groans against her.

“Will you let me make you feel good tonight?”

She blushes and bites her bottom lip harshly to stifle her giggle. She would not ruin the moment tonight. She takes a deep breath and nods her head yes. He lifts her up and lays her on the bed. He hovers over her and kisses on her neck, and down to the plushy parts of her breasts that were spilling out of the top of her bra. He’d get it off her later, he had more important things to do. He kisses down her stomach, and he can feel her tense up underneath him. He looks up at her, and she sends him a smile. He was surprised at how well she was doing.  He thought too soon, though, because when he started to kiss on one of her hips, a giggle broke out.

“Sensitive spot, keep going.” She smiles.

“So, I can take these off?”

“Mhm.” Her cheeks were even more red now. He felt terrible that he was doing this to her, but at the same time it was nice to know how much of an effect he had.

He hooks his fingers into her panties and drags them down her legs, tossing them aside. Her knees close quickly, and he looks at her.

“Babe.”

“Sorry.” She takes a deep breath. “You sure you want to? I could just bl-“

“Nope, sorry, tonight’s about you. Wanna show you how much I love you, Y/N.”

She starts giggling, but is able to control it as she opens her legs for him. She wanted this just as much, she just needed to calm down.

“Wanna suck on my fingers so they’re nice and wet for you?”

She nods and opens her mouth for him. She licks and sucks around his middle and index fingers. She smirked at him as she did it, and he just looked at her adoringly. He loved his baby girl so much. He retracts his fingers from her mouth and gently slides them up and down her slit. He rubs them around her folds, and instead of a laugh or a giggle like he was expecting, she lets out soft moans and whimpers. He uses his thumbs to spread her apart further so he can properly see her clit. He rubs circles into it and watches her face. Her mouth was open and her head was rolled back into the pillow.

He adjusts himself so he’s laying on his stomach before her. His fingers play around her center as he leans in. Just as he gets his tongue on her, she bursts out laughing. He looks up at her and sees her looking down at him.

“Sorry, sorry, I didn’t know you were going to do that.” She giggles.

“What did you think I was doing down here?” He chuckles.

“I don’t know, I thought you were just going to finger me or something!” She laughs, tears in her eyes now. “I’m fine, I’m fine, go ahead.”

He smiles and shakes his head. He tries to flick his tongue on her clit, but she bursts out laughing again. Harry never got annoyed with her, but right now he just wished she could clam down.

“Just ignore me.” She says. “I’ll be able to get a grip, I’m sure of it.”

Harry takes a deep breath and tries to lick her through her giggles, she even bites down on her forearm to try to stifle her stupid laughter. She found herself having a full on fit, and she bursts into tears. Harry sits up to look at her. Now he really felt terrible.

“Hey.” He reaches to wipe her tears away. “It’s alright, we don’t have to do this tonight.”

“But I want you so bad! This is so frustrating, I bet it would feel really good.” She sniffles.

“You weren’t nervous when you thought I was just going to finger you. Maybe I could try that first to relax you, and then try my tongue again.”

“What’s the use? I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to dump me for some girl you could easily do these things with.” She pouts and wipes her eyes.

“Baby, don’t say stuff like that. I love you, I meant it when I said it. You’re worth it, you’re more than worth it. I can’t even think about wanting to be with anyone else.”

“Really?”

“Of course.” He kisses her lips and she pulls him close to her.

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing. Let’s just have fun, yeah? This is supposed to be a good time. No pressure.”

“I really do want you to fuck me.”

“I have to prep you first, babe.” He kisses on her neck as his hand drags back now between her thighs. He slowly works his middle finger inside her. “How’s that?” He could tell she was doing better from the way she was sinking into the bed.

“Good.”

He works another finger into her and curls them up as he pumps them in and out. Her head rolls back again as he sucks on one of her nipples. He keeps her distracted with his skilled fingers as he kisses down her body again. He carefully wraps his mouth around her clit and sucks. Before she can really laugh or giggle, her throat gets caught in a moan. She pushes herself up on her elbows to look at him better. She was amazed by him, and what he was doing felt so good.

“Fuck, Harry!”

His eyes snap up to hers. She never really used words when they would do things like this. She’d moan and whimper, but she’s never said his name like that before. Harry loved talking dirty, but he kept it to a minimum because he just figured it would make her too nervous, and then she’d feel bad for giggling. He smirks at her as he laps around at her clit, his fingers still working wonders inside her.

“Oh my god, you’re gonna make come, ugh!” She throws her head back and grinds her hips up towards him.

He found himself pressing his lower half into the mattress. He had never seen her like this, and it was doing something to him. She moans his name loudly as she comes to her release, a few tears rolling down her cheeks. He crawls back up her body so he’s hovering over her face.

“You did so well.” He kisses her. “I’m so proud of you.”

“It felt so good.” She kisses him and wraps her arms around his neck. “Please, fuck me, Harry.”

They had already discussed birth control and everything, and he trusted that she took her pill every day, so there was really no need for a condom. He could always pull out if she wanted him to. He lines himself up with her, and slowly starts to push inside. Her nails dig into his shoulders as he continues to go in inch by inch.

“Goddammit, you’re so tight.” He groans. She bites her bottom lip and tries to breathe. “You feel so fucking good.” He says into her ear as he starts to move.

“I’m…I’m…” She starts giggling. “I’m so wet.” She bursts into laughter and so does he. He rocks in and out of her as they both laugh. “Sorry, I was trying to say something sexy, but…”

“It was plenty sexy.” He kisses on her neck. “And you are really wet.” He nibbles on her earlobe and she grits her teeth.

He was really stretching her out and it felt amazing. She wraps her legs around his waist, digging her heels into his ass. He kneads one of her breasts and it causes her to moan out again. Everything felt sensitive, she couldn’t take it anymore. His tip was hitting her g-spot in the most perfect way. She does something that surprises him. One of her hands slides up, and gently grips his throat. Her eyes were screwed shut, and he could tell from the way she was tightening around his dick that she was close.

“Oh, fuck!” She cries out as she comes around his cock. Her grips on his throat tightens as she rides it out.

His eyes roll into the back of his head, and he pulls out quickly to come on her stomach. He tries to catch his breath, but her hand is still on him. She was too busy looking at the come on her belly to notice.

“Babe.” He says weakly, and puts his hand over hers.

“Oh!” She giggles. “Sorry.” She lets go of him.

“No, that’s okay.” He leans in and kisses her cheek. “Let me get something to clean you up, be right back.”

She lays there waiting for him, and he comes back swiftly with a towel to clean her up. He tosses it to the floor and hops back on to the bed. He pulls her close to him, covering face with kisses. It makes her giggle, but not in a nervous way. It was genuine. She rolls onto her side and props herself up on her elbow.

“How do you feel?” He asks, rubbing at her side.

“Really good, that was fun.” She smiles. “Sorry if my giggles got in the way.”

“You don’t need to keep apologizing, I like laughing with you. You’re contagious.”

“But…doesn’t it take away from the passion?”

“Not really.” He shrugs. “Sex doesn’t need to be so serious, it’s fun, people should laugh more when they fuck.” He yanks her closer to him and buries his face in her chest. She plays with his hair as he nestles in. He plants kisses on her and she loves it. “Can’t get enough of you.” He mumbles and then looks up at her. “M’really happy, Y/N.”

“Me too.” She kisses his forehead and his eyes flutter closed.

She wondered if she’d get a chance to wear her bathing suit and go on the boat as he promised, or if they’d end up staying in the bed the entire weekend. She was spending time with her boyfriend, who loved every inch of her, inside and out, so it didn’t really matter with either way.

#harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff fic #harry styles smut fic

[minkmousesworld]

Hi could I request for a Daki x reader that the reader has the same type of personality as tanjiro, and gets angry when someone flirts with daki.And daki loves both kind and angry side of the reader. I Don't know if its up to me or its up to you that this will be NSFW🔞 but if its not a problem that i kind want this to be nsfw🔞. Love your headcanons have a great day. Stay safe everyone.

hello, sweetie! thank you for your request♡ you didn't specify au, so I chose it myself. feel free to send another request if you want a different au!

Modern AU: Daki x Reader [SFW & NSFW🔞]

"I'm not jealous"

warnings: "soft but not" reader, jealous, a mix of scenarios and headcanons, smut under "🔞👑🔞" & "🔞👑♥️"

You couldn't call yourself an evil person. Or even irritable. It was as if you were born to be a kind and caring ray of sunshine, returning candy to children and taking cats out of trees.

Of course, everyone has their "moments", but you hid your own deep enough that others did not notice.

You have always preferred to smile, solve things peacefully and behave not aggressively.

Aggression is the way of the weak, right? Why be aggressive when you can be friendly? Everyone will get what they deserve.

Even if you did not believe in such words, the environment that adheres to the morality of "everyone will be rewarded", put a certain imprint on your personality, making everything less evil and dangerous.

Daki didn't really believe in such "sugar words". The most cunning and the strongest survive.

With her bright nails, pink phone cover, and stockings that she kept taking off because she hated them, Daki was as provocative and aggressive as a "cute girl from a not-cute family" could be. Although she wasn't physically the strongest, her cunning and charm were enough to be considered a dangerous opponent.

No one dared cross her path.

But even if people were constantly wondering if Daki had forced you to start dating her through "blackmail or threats of violence", you loved Daki.

And you knew that she truly loved you, even if you weren't a "good match" for the people around her.

Daki loved you, even though people said she should have chosen someone more... appropriate to her status. Usually she was rather rude to send people and be sarcastic when they climbed into their business.

Although she was undoubtedly no less surprised than others at her infatuation, when you, instead of hitting the offender and stopping similar situations in the future, preferred to calm and negotiate.

Daki never understood how she had fallen in love with someone so gentle and peaceful.

"All you have to do is buy a van and stop washing your hair, because you are already the epitome of 'Make love, not war!'"

"Daki, honey…"

But Daki loved that part of you. Your disdain for useless aggression delighted her rather than repelled her, even if she didn't agree with you on some issues. After all, perhaps your (strange) thinking has its positive side, even if it doesn't suit her?

Daki considered your thinking strange not only because of your peaceful moods even towards obviously hostile people and animals, but also because of your aggressiveness.

It is particularly aggressive.

This was a regular incident at first — people wanted to see if the information that you were dating was true. The more reserved and less modest asked directly, the less reserved and less modest... "went straight", focusing on the reaction.

What is the easiest way to cause jealousy? Flirting. And if they were rightly wary of Daki's reaction, then you… No one was afraid of you.

What can you make of the worst? Will you shake your head in displeasure? Will you say that you can not do this? You are more harmless than rabbits, which only the grass is afraid of.

It was safer to provoke you.

Until you left a bruise on the skin of the guy who tried to touch Daki while flirting.

You didn't want to hurt them! This is an accident! You are absolutely harmless!

You just didn't expect that someone would be smart enough to try to touch your girlfriend in your presence without permission. It was self-defense.

Even when you wrapped your hands around the collar of a very tall guy's shirt and asked him in a soft, calm voice not to disturb your girlfriend anymore.

Or when one of the girls explicitly flirted with Daki, hinting at sex, and you politely asked not to do so again. It's uncivil to flirt with a lady who already has a partner.

You weren't jealous.

You just didn't like this behavior towards Daki, because your girlfriend should be treated with respect and, at the very least, not try to start a romantic relationship with her while you are dating.

Daki said the opposite — that despite your jealous nature, she loves you, giggling playfully. You continued to deny her silly accusations of jealousy.

You weren't jealous.

You trusted her completely, and you certainly weren't jealous of the people who seemed to be around her all the time, especially those who didn't just hang out with her with harmless intentions of making friends.

Daki, on the other hand, saw your jealousy and dissatisfaction with the attention she received from other people.

She was sure that you had a gentle and patient nature, and has already accepted that she is now dating an "angel", but the angel suddenly turns out to be quite an earthly creature. You just didn't see what Daki looked like when she first noticed your jealousy.

She so obviously enjoys your reaction and emotions when again "some loser" tries to flirt with her. And you're kind of ashamed that you react so violently to such harmless things, but you just don't like this attitude from other people.

Although Daki likes to play on your nerves and see you territorial and jealous, she knows when to stop.

At least, she hopes she knows.

Your mind will always be a mystery to her, and Daki tries to think like you would, but she would rather hit the offender than hold out the "flower of peace". Therefore, in the intervals between flirting with you and leading an active social life, she tries to figure out what needs to be done so that this is a "red signal" for you to end your relationship.

"If you were offered a million dollars for letting a kitten out on a deserted street during severe frosts, would you agree?"

"Daki, honey…"

The way she tries to tease you by using others, how obvious it seems to be some kind of cunning plan that no one understands.

"Why are you looking at me like that? Are you jealous?"

No one dares to flirt with Daki after you get mad at one of the unlucky fans.

🔞👑🔞

warnings: rough sex, bite / marking, mention of public sex, petting, slightly smut

Daki likes to provoke you not only for the sake of reaction, but also for the sake of thrills.

She doesn't mind soft sex, but there's something exciting about biting her neck, or leaving marks on her chest and collarbone, or bringing her to another orgasm so that she screams out whose girl she is.

Even if your passionate impulses make her wear stockings to hide the marks on her thighs.

There is nothing wrong with teasing your jealous nature, if after you do not hesitate in the idea of "starting foreplay in the subway". Daki will not call herself a fan of public sex, but there is nothing wrong with you touching her breasts, getting your fingers under her black bra, or getting under her panties.

Or grab her arm and push her against the wall, biting her almost painfully. Daki knows that she can push you away and you'll listen to her, but it's just so exciting when you're so annoyed that you're ready to take her right now, in a human desire to possess her.

That you are not so reserved and peaceful when someone flirts with her. She's your girlfriend, right?

🔞👑♥️

The club's bathroom smells strongly of smoke and sickly sweet, cheap perfume.

Daki, playfully kicking you with her foot, shamelessly teases you, telling you how that cute guy was staring at her all the time you were in the park, or how that cute girl was making eyes at her while you went for ice cream, and was already intending to go to Daki and get a phone number.

"And what will you do? Will you thank them for looking out for me?"

One day, she will definitely drive you crazy with her caustic words.

"I swear, I didn't even think before that I could go so crazy with feelings. You're just a ticking time bomb"

Daki only smiles coquettishly in response, comfortably wrapping her arms around your neck, and spreads her legs, causing the skirt to lift higher, exposing her hips.

"Then why don't you take care of your feelings?"

It's almost cute the way she shivers under you, trying to scratch your back, and whispers to you to stop acting so jealous.

You deliberately don't touch her, leaving touches on her sensitive thighs decorated with your hickeys and on her breasts — red and irritated from the stimulation.

Daki is almost on the verge of starting to caress her clit on her own, pulling her wet panties aside, but you deftly grab her hand, not letting her touch her body, and passionately kiss.

Daki bites you in return, but squeezes your hair and doesn't let you break the kiss. And unsuccessfully tries to pull her hand out of your grasp, fidgeting in place to get at least some satisfaction.

With a little pressure on her panties, you pull away from your wild lover — ruddy, panting, dissatisfied and angry.

"Look, honey", you whisper, licking your bitten lips, "didn't you tell me I was jealous? Well, now let's show everyone how jealous I am. With your moans, of course".

#gender neutral reader #demon slayer headcanons #kimetsu no yaiba headcanons #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #gn reader #nsft #kimetsu no yaiba scenarios #demon slayer scenarios #daki x reader #daki #🍡.requests #🐹.anonymous2stuff #🍡.rough sex #🍡.petting

[scapegrace74-blog]

Ginger Snap, Chapter 5

A/N  Know what this fic needs?  More Geillis.  No really, I think you guys are going to like where I’m going with this.   Just bear with me.   Only one more chapter to go after this one, plus an epilogue.   Thanks for coming on the journey with me!  With due credit to Sia, this chapter’s title is Fire, Meet Gasoline.

Previous chapters are best enjoyed on my AO3 page, because I have a bad habit of going back and editing them after they’ve been posted.

Geillis Duncan drove much the way she approached life, which was to say without much regard for rules and at white-knuckle speed.  I gripped her Range Rover’s leather cushion and swallowed any exclamations of dismay as we ricocheted through Edinburgh’s late afternoon traffic.  When we finally slid into an underground parking spot and emerged into the bustling festivity of the Princes Street Christmas Market, I felt the tension of imminent disaster abandon my shoulders.

“Where to first, then?” Geillis asked, looking far too animated by the prospect of accompanying someone while they did their Christmas shopping.

Geillis and I had kept in touch and met for coffee a few times over the past months.  When I explained that I wouldn’t be taking any more cooking classes at Ginger Snap because Jamie was giving me at-home lessons, her reaction was a moonbeam grin.

“Look at ye, wee vixen!  I ne’er wouldha thought ye had it in ya, Claire.  Tho I canna say as I blame ye.”

No matter how much I protested that I was together with Frank and that my relationship with Jamie was purely professional, she refused to believe me.  The ongoing absence of a ring from my left hand didn’t help.

“Now,” Geillis exclaimed once we’d taken in the sights and sounds of the market, “let’s have a keek at yer list.  Where should we start?”

I pulled out my phone and opened the Notes app.  As she read, my friend’s nose wrinkled in confusion.

“Trouser socks, shoe stays, Moleskine notebook, Rive Gauche...  who are ye shopping for, yer grandparents?”

“No,” I protested.  “The first three are for Frank.  The perfume is for me.”

When I explained that Frank had made a list of the items he would like to give me for Christmas, Geillis grew incensed.

“Ye mean he has ye doin’ his gift buying fer him?  Tha’s the least romantic thing I’ve e’er heard.  Do ye even like Rive Gauche, Claire?  And dinna lie tae me, fer I can read yer feelings all o’er yer face.”

Truthfully, I didn’t much care for the flowery scent.  My personal taste ran more towards woodsy or herbaceous aromas.  But it was Frank’s favourite, and it pleased me to please him.  Or it had.  I was beginning to wonder when it would be my turn to please myself.

“Right,” Geillis interrupted my thoughts.  “Marks and Sparks will do jes fine for yer wee granny list.   And then you and I are going shopping fer yer real gift.”

Geillis was a force to be reckoned with in a retail environment.  She navigated like a guided missile from one department to the next.   Twenty minutes later, we were back on the pavement, which glistened with the colourful reflections of decorations strung above.

“Your car is the other way,” I explained as Geillis turned left.

“Aye, tis, but our destination is right o’er here.  House of Fraser.  See?  Tis practically calling yer name, Claire.”

Inside the venerable old building was an astonishing multi-tiered arcade reaching over five stories to a massive skylit ceiling.  The central space was dominated by a fifteen metre-high Christmas tree (a Fraser fir, of course) and every archway of every arcade was dripping with lights.  The impression was like stepping into a Fabergé egg.

Geillis dragged me, slack-jawed, towards the ladies’ wear section.  Circling the racks like a hawk on the wind, she eyed my body, sizing me up quite literally, then thrust several pieces into my hands.

“Geillis,” I hissed, wary of the sales staff hovering nearby, no doubt smelling an excessive commission in the offing.  “I don’t need a new outfit.  And I certainly don’t need,” I shook the garments in question, “something like this.  Wherever would I wear it?”

“Well, fer starters, ye’d wear it tae dinner t’night.  I dinna wish tae offend ye, Claire, but I canna in good conscience allow ye tae set foot in the Timberyard dressed fer a job interview as a primary school teacher.”

With that she shoved me in the direction of the changing rooms.  Deciding to humour her, I was unbuttoning my top when two lacy bits of nothing came flying over the door.

“Start wi’ these.  And dinna think I willna notice if ye’re no’ wearing them!”

I stripped down to my panties, bemusedly wondering how she knew my exact bra size. 

Upon seeing me exit the dressing room in her choice of clothing, Geillis let out a squeal of delight.   She insisted I rip out the tags and leave the store wearing my new outfit, declaring it was her Christmas gift to me.  

I felt tremendously self-conscious as we walked towards the restaurant.  The aubergine velvet jeans clung to my legs in an unfamiliar way and the black turtleneck, while technically not revealing, hinted at kink with its many heavy zippers and fastenings.  Together with my unruly hair, unstraightened for once, I felt like another woman entirely.  I didn’t recognize her, but I felt like she might be someone I’d like to get to know.

The Timberyard was a modern restaurant in a rugged old warehouse, not far from the farmer’s market I’d visited with Jamie.  We were joined there by several of Geillis’ friends, and we ate, drank and laughed until my sides were sore. 

As I wobbled to the loo, I noticed the bartender following me with an appreciative gaze.  It had been a long time since a man had looked at me that way, and it gave me a guilty thrill.

We left the restaurant just before midnight. I pulled Geillis into an impulsive hug.

“Wha’ was that for, hen?” she asked.

“Nothing.  Everything.  Just, thank you for being you, Geil.”

“Och, tis my pleasure, lass.  I only want tae see ye happy.  Now, what do ye say to a digestif?”

After only a slight protest on my part, the two of us piled into an Uber.  Our destination was another restaurant, this time in a converted whisky warehouse by the harbour in Leith.  It was well past last sitting, but when I mentioned this to Geillis she explained away my concern. 

“I ken the owner, who’s also the chef.  Tis a popular spot fer locals in the restaurant scene tae meet after they close up fer a few drinks afore heading home tae their beds.”

Inside, the walls were rough stone, supported in places by industrial metal beams.  The kitchen was open to the main dining area, and I grinned as I thought of Frank’s strong opinion on the matter.  Near the back of the room, lit by dim naked bulbs and the glow from several open fireplaces, was a huge square table surrounded by nearly twenty chairs upholstered in bright yellow plaid.  Around the table was gathered a motley assortment of men and women, all talking and laughing and sipping on a variety of drinks.  And in their midst, his copper hair shining in the firelight, sat Jamie.

A shout went up from the table as Geillis approached.  I hung back, tugging at the hem of my new turtleneck as though I could stretch it to cover my arse.  Besides Jamie, I recognized Jenny, Angus and Murtagh, but I only had eyes for the big ginger chef.  He sat at one corner, probably in deference to his long legs which were stretched out before him, wrapped in black denim.  A black leather jacket hung over the chair behind him.  He looked dangerous.  It was a very good look for him.

Dragging me by the elbow, Geillis nudged and bumped Angus to one side despite his vulgar protests, then practically pushed me down into the chair directly next to the chef.  With a smug smile of satisfaction, she then retired to the opposite side of the table.

I looked anywhere but directly at Jamie, but I could feel his butane eyes on me.  I was certain he would scorch right through my outer layers and down to where Geillis’ choice in lingerie burned against my tender skin.  The noise from the rest of the table faded away.

“Ye look bonnie t’night, Arsonist.”  His voice was low and gruff and it sent a quickening through my veins.

“Thank you, Jamie. It was Geillis’ Christmas gift to me, and I feel, well... let’s just say it isn’t my usual look.”

“It suits ye, I think.”  He reached out and lightly touched the silver tab of a zipper that ended near my wrist, setting it swinging.  I swallowed and looked frantically around.  Several open bottles of liquor stood nearby. Grabbing the nearest one, I poured myself a generous serving and knocked it back, all in one go.  I tried to steady my breathing.

“Look, Jamie...”

Just then a blond man in chef’s whites called to Jamie from across the table.  An exchange involving a lot of Scottish cursing and an off-colour reference to someone’s lobster pot ensued.  I tried to convince myself I needed to leave.  It was late, I was half-drunk, and whatever I intended to say to Jamie should definitely wait for another moment.  Maybe never.

A hand on my thigh broke my preoccupation.

“Sorry, Arsonist, ye were sayin’ something?”

I wet my lips, frantically trying to recall anything but the feeling of Jamie’s strong fingers, stroking me through the velvet of my jeans.

“I...”

At that moment, the woman on Jamie’s far side broke into song.  The rest of the table cheered and clapped along, and it was impossible to hear anything except the concussive pounding of my heart against my eardrums.

Jamie grabbed my clammy hand.

“Come wi’ me,” he instructed, grabbing our outerwear and pulling me towards the door.  Geillis watched our departure with all the excitement of a child on Christmas morning.

Outside the air was dense and cold, a briny slap after the stuffy warmth of the restaurant.  Jamie obviously had a destination in mind, and we walked hand-in-hand along the cobbled streets for several minutes before finally emerging at the port.  A jetty struck out into the inky sea, and it was there that we ended up.  Besides a few gulls and the winking of a nearby lighthouse, we were all alone.  The sodium street lights caught Jamie’s curls and made them burn.

“Forgive me, Arsonist.  I couldna hear myself think in there.  Tho, come tae think of it, tis no’ much better now.”  Rather than release me, as he spoke Jamie stroked my hand, running calloused fingers over each vein and every knuckle.  I don’t think he even realized he was doing it, but it stole every thought from my head.

“No ring,” he remarked, stroking the finger in question.

“No,” I whispered in response.  

And then it burst out of me, like a tidal wave of feeling that I never saw coming.  I told him everything.  My childhood roaming the globe with my uncle, pre-occupied and rootless, dreaming of stability.  Meeting Frank at Harvard, and realizing that he represented all the things that my life to date had lacked: structure, security, a solid foundation, a home.  And how it took moving to Scotland and coming into contact with a group of near-strangers to make me realize that the price I had paid for that stability was higher than I’d ever imagined.  I’d given up my dream of becoming a doctor. I’d become so lost in Frank’s vision of who I should be that I’d almost lost sight of who I actually was.

By the time the flood of words left me, I was in Jamie’s arms, crying into his leather jacket.  He hushed me with quiet murmurs and languorous stroking of my hair, as one would a child who has woken from a nightmare.

I stepped out of his embrace and rubbed my sleeve across my face.  I must have looked an absolute mess, but he still watched me with those earnest, patient eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I began, “I don’t know what...”

“Claire,” he interrupted.  I’d never before realized just how many consonants were in my given name.  “Ye dinna need tae apologize tae me.  But ye may want tae consider an apology tae yerself.”  At my raised eyebrow, he continued.

“I’m no’ the kind of man tae tell another what they should and shouldna do.  But ye strike me as someone who’s made decisions fer the right reasons, yet ended up in the wrong place.”  Here he paused, as though carefully weighing his words.  “There’s no sin in changin’ yer mind, Arsonist.  Tis very well tae be hungry, so long as ye ken what ye hunger for.”

“And what do you hunger for, James Fraser?”  The provocative words had left my lips before I had the chance to censor them.  His answer came in the form of a blistering look that left no doubt as to its meaning.  Then he gathered himself, banking the fire I’d unconsciously ignited.

“Many things.  Regular, ordinary things, mostly.  My family’s health and happiness.  A faster bike.  My own restaurant.”

“Like Tom’s there?” I asked, gesturing towards the harbour.

“Och, Tom is a braw chef, and worthy o’ every accolade tha’s been showered upon him.  But the hospitality scene in Edinburgh is cut-throat, an’ suitable locations cost a fortune.  Nah, Jenny and I want tae buy back our childhood home in the Highlands.  Tis called Lallybroch, and when our Da passed, our Mam sold it tae her brother.  We’d turn it inta a country inn, wi’ Jenny running the lodging side o’ things and I the dining.  Tha’s the dream anyway,” he ended with a shrug.

I rested my hand on his forearm.  “That sounds like a wonderful plan, Jamie.”

Before he could reply, an enormous yawn burst from my lungs.

“Time tae get ye home tae yer bed, Arsonist,” Jamie grinned.   “Come, I’ll give ye a ride.”

“Wait, haven’t you been drinking?” I inquired as we walked back down the jetty.

“Three years sober,” he explained with no hint of embarrassment.  “I went somewhere pretty dark after my Mam died, an’ it took a near-fatal crash tae scare me straight.”  His eyes squinted in a poor approximation of a wink as he added, “Besides, there are better ways tae chase a rush than in the bottom of a bottle.”

“Such as?” I asked brazenly.

Which was how I found myself on the back on a black motorcycle, my arms twined around Jamie’s waist.  Rather than take me directly home, he steered us north, following the coast.  It was very late, with hardly another vehicle about.  We merged onto the motorway, and Jamie picked up speed.  My thighs tightened around his lean hips, the vibration of the motor beneath us shivering up my spine.  As we emerged beneath the hastate lights of the Queensferry Bridge, I stretched my arms wide, icy air ripping against the sleeves of my jacket.  I laughed, although no-one could hear me.  I yelled, and only the wind yelled back.  I was flying.

***

It was nearly dawn when Jamie pulled up in front of my flat.  My legs thrummed, my eyes were dry with fatigue, and my heart ached, but I felt better than I could ever remember.  I handed Jamie back his spare helmet and shook out my curls.  He watched me in that half-sleepy, half-vigilant way of his that I now recognized as desire.

“I don’t know what I could ever say to thank you, Jamie.”

“Ye needn’t say anything at all, Arsonist.  Nae matter what ye decide, it has been my very great honour tae get tae know you.”

Without another word, he kick-started the engine and drove off into the early morning mist.

“Goodbye,” I whispered to his vanishing shadow.

***

The lamp above the couch was lit, and Frank lay still beneath its glow.  I realized he had fallen asleep waiting for me to come home.  Instead of regret, what I felt in that moment was pity.

The sound of my jacket being unzipped woke him.  He blinked in confusion and then in shock.

“I’m very sorry if you were worried,” I began.

“Worried?  Do you have any idea what time it is?  My God, Claire, I don’t know what to make of you these days.  You’ve never behaved irresponsibly before, and now you’re out at all hours and you’re wearing,” he gestured wildly with his hand at my new outfit which I had, quite honestly, forgotten I was wearing.  “And your hair, Claire!” he finished, as though the manic state of my curls was definitive evidence of my fall from grace.  Despite my exhaustion, I stood tall.

“Frank, we need to talk.”

#my writing #outlander #ginger snap

[lynenspray]

joygi 04

prompt: seulgi should know better than to come unprepared, especially when it involves her girlfriend's reputation at work.

---

hold me up (tie me down)

(joygi gp!seulgi frottage overstimulation car sex)

seulgi’s reflection followed as she tilted her head, brow furrowing at how the white collar of her dress shirt didn’t quite shape itself around her neck the way she wanted it to. 

with a sigh, she tugged at the front of her top and tucked it into her slacks haphazardly. the collar gave until the first closed button was right in the middle of her chest, but the action left unsightly creases around her shoulders. goddammit.

she shook her head in mild annoyance. should’ve gotten a new dress shirt for this occasion. she didn’t want to disappoint joy, after all--the younger woman was the one who had bought the sleek black suit seulgi was to wear for the night, demanding that the older woman don it in order for them to match. 

so she did. and now here she was, looking like a child playing grown-up, glaring at the troublesome cotton that was currently the bane of her existence. 

you really ought to stop dressing like a teenager, joy had told her once, bemused at the photographer’s choice of wearing a bucket hat on one of their dinners out. didn’t you say you came from work? the creative field really is something else...

seulgi mistook it as a joke, because joy and her had similarly bold fashion tastes in somewhat opposite directions. her own style was more baggy and fit for walking the streets, while the younger woman was fond of suits and blazers even on her casual days. seulgi was pretty sure joy would be the type to wear an oversized, tailored coat just to walk her dog around the block.

but apparently the comment was not to be taken as a good-humoured quip, and now seulgi was going to seem like an absolute fool at one of the most important fundraisers her girlfriend coordinated herself for the company that she was a division head for. fuck.

“maybe if i just…” she started, trying not to deflate when she discovered that buttoning her shirt up all the way just made her look worse. if that was even possible. 

ding!

seulgi blinked and picked up her phone, biting her lip when she saw her girlfriend’s message, impatience in its tone. probably from the traffic and the fact that seulgi got caught up with the photoshoot she had today, only having enough time for a shower and light make-up before joy fetched her. they were cutting it a bit too close to being exactly on time for the party instead of fifteen minutes early.

jwoyie ♡

i'll be there in ten. be at the driveway when i arrive

[7:21pm]

one of the elevators in her building had been under maintenance since yesterday, leaving only the other available. the wait and ride down would take anywhere between five to twenty minutes, and joy abhorred it when she was late. shit.

her head whipped around as she stared at her reflection once more; the state of her hair and overall demeanour appeared as frazzled as she felt. was there anything else she could do? 

deciding that no she didn’t own any other dress shirts that had any chance of being appropriate for the formal occasion and no she couldn’t possibly back out now and upset joy while she was at it, seulgi heaved a long suffering breath and wore the jacket to complete her outfit. 

she took one last look at her closet and rummaged through the drawers, figuring that she may as well bring a tie if there was any chance joy could salvage her attire. 

"seriously…"

the only ties she had were long printed scarf-like silks in different colours. great. 

she tucked one into her suit jacket anyway and hoped for the best, quickly making her way down to the lobby of her apartment building lest she be late. 

joy's mercedes-benz pulled up on the dot, and seulgi was both unsurprised and terrified to see her girlfriend's blank expression as soon as she slipped into the passenger seat in all her disheveled glory. 

all seulgi could do was sit there in quiet shame as she fiddled with the cloth in her hands.

"you’re gorgeous," seulgi whispered as she settled in. joy was going to turn every head at the fundraiser with the side ruffle black dress she wore; simple but eye-catching. oh god. seulgi was going to embarrass her girlfriend at the very event she worked so hard for. 

"thank you." joy’s reply was simple and quick, smooth as her steering them out of the driveway and onto the main road. the younger woman's hand trailed down seulgi's arm, twining their fingers together as their matching couple rings met. no praises were given about seulgi's own outfit. rightfully so, because she looked pitiful in comparison. 

seulgi sank further into her seat. 

joy didn’t look at seulgi when she spoke next. "are you upset? was it with your photoshoot today?" 

"no," seulgi answered, tightening her grip on joy's hand as she gazed out her window. "i just… know that i don't look good. i'm sorry i didn't just buy an actual dress shirt, or text you asking if i could borrow one."

joy let a few minutes pass by without a single word, the evening traffic’s lights bouncing off her face and making her glow. the few minutes had first turned into several, before several more, and soon enough time had stretched on until almost an hour of silence had passed and the events place underground parking lot was all seulgi could spy outside.

when the taller woman finally spoke, it was an inquiry rather than a response. "what are you doing with that tie?" joy’s tone lacked any accusation, but the steely gaze she flicked towards seulgi as she turned the engine off spoke volumes.

"i…" seulgi swallowed. "thought… maybe i could wear it tonight," she reasoned, every word that slipped out of her mouth softer than the last. though the car was warm, the temperature didn't call for the cold sweat that she felt trickle down the back of her neck. that was caused by something else. 

seulgi held her breath as she watched joy's fingers clench around the steering wheel, her stomach dropping at the sound of leather being stretched. 

"haven't we been over this before?" 

"the…" party? seulgi couldn't recall any such thing. 

joy's hand was almost as quick as her hiss. "this," she indicated, holding seulgi's hand and the tie up between them. "making decisions without me. it's my event."

and you're my girl went unsaid, but seulgi could hear the implication of it with joy's piercing stare. 

seulgi dipped her gaze impulsively, trying to appease the younger woman. she knew far better than to push joy, especially when she was in business-mode and concerned about her reputation at work. “i know… i’m sorry.” 

"you want to use this?"

she crumpled into herself, not knowing the answer joy wanted to hear.

the older woman let out a squeak of surprise when joy's other hand moved to grab her chin, forcing her to lock their gazes. "backseat," joy commanded. 

seulgi blinked, bewildered for only a moment before gathering her wits and scrambling to do joy's bidding. she squeezed herself between the front seats, waddled her way over the console, and caught her breath as she settled into a sitting position.

joy only looked at her with an expression of amusement, lips tilted mockingly. the older girl watched wide-eyed as her lover reached out to open the glove compartment and pulled out what looked like sleek black cloth. 

before seulgi could make sense of what was going on, the taller swiftly exited and reentered the vehicle through the back with a smirk, pushing her against the opposite door as soon as she got in.

seulgi gulped when joy languidly approached, maneuvering the former's legs until she could fit snugly between them. the position was awkward, but seulgi wasn’t thinking about that right now. the rough manipulation of her limbs had her trembling, and if she looked down now, she was sure the tent in her pants would be more than obvious. 

joy’s smirk only widened as she brushed fingers against seulgi’s trousers, right where her slowly hardening dick was. “sit tight, big girl,” she whispered. seulgi gulped as joy leaned forward, lips right by her ear and causing goosebumps to spring forth on her skin. “using this was your idea, after all. i wouldn’t want to disappoint you now.”

the older woman did nothing but watch and let her lover leave kisses on her wrists before wrapping the tie around them, tugging them up, up, above seulgi until they were level with the car handle over her head. 

a gasp escaped her lips when joy tethered her arms to the handle, leaving no room for her to resist or move from her place. 

she wanted to ask her lover what was going on, but just as she was about to, the black fabric was folded into a ball and stuffed in her mouth. 

the only thing she could muster was a confused grunt, her tongue pinned as joy placed another cloth between her teeth and tied the ends behind her head, pulling at the edges of her lips and preventing her from closing them. 

seulgi tugged on her bonds questioningly, letting the squeak of satin against leather ask everything she couldn’t manage to voice out. 

“you want to look good for me, right?”

she nodded, hips unconsciously bucking against the hand that ground down against it.

“i know just the thing to help, then.” 

joy’s smirk turned vicious, from what seulgi could see in the dim light. she felt more than saw her lover’s hands trail their way up her shirt, swiftly unbuttoning the white cotton. then those long fingers brushed against her ribs, coming between her breasts to unclasp her bra, letting her tan skin meet the still air of the car they were in. 

seulgi suppressed a weak whimper as joy's breath ghosted over her body, lips poised to kiss along her collarbone and doing so slowly, reverently. 

joy's kisses would normally range from deep and sensual to light and playful, but seulgi noticed her pecks now had intention behind them; firm and final, no sign of her tongue peeking out as she grazed against the older woman's peaks. 

"hnmf," seulgi groaned through the cloth as the ends of joy's hair tickled her waist, bucking her hips up to show her want, her need. if joy wanted to have her, she was all hers for the taking; would always be. she just needed to touch her. 

instead of following through with her lover's obvious request, however, joy ignored her restless hips in favour of grabbing her lipstick from her bag and reapplying some as she stared down at her unnie with a smirk. 

joy's hand found its way to seulgi's thigh, pressing her fingers harshly against the muscle and smirking wider at seulgi's whine in reaction. 

"you know when you look best, baby?" she questioned, rubbing along the underside of seulgi's leg and pushing it up to have seulgi blossom open for her, slacks pulling tight against her crotch, hugging her bulge. "when you're mine."

seulgi's head rolled back as joy started leaving firm kisses all over her torso once more, steady and insistent. she was so distracted by the sensation that she hadn't noticed when joy started writing on her chest; only blinked back to reality once the lipstick was recapped and joy sat back to gaze at her with a pleased expression. 

"if only you could see yourself," joy said, chin tilted upwards as she directed a lazy smile at seulgi. her grin was quickly replaced by a sneer. "but the view isn't for you anyway, is it?" 

seulgi shook her head with a squeak, knowing that was what joy wanted. she closed her eyes when joy still paid her swollen cock no mind, frustration building. 

"look at me."

please. seulgi planted her ankles on top of the car seats so she could inch herself closer and grind on joy's knee. please just touch me. 

a muffled yelp escaped her as joy abruptly pressed her thighs back against her own chest, holding her so firmly she could feel the shape of the car door digging into her spine. 

seulgi's eyes shot open. something in joy’s expression told her it was best if she stopped struggling; that if she knew what was good for her, she would sit still, listen carefully, and–

"look at me."

look at her. 

the older woman would bite her lip if she could. she spied the shadow of muscles moving as joy let out a breath and clenched her jaw. the sight had seulgi trembling; she couldn't tell what was about to happen.

she'd been disobedient before, pushed joy to the limit, tested her patience repeatedly to the point that she'd had no choice but to teach seulgi a lesson about her manners. 

but it had never happened in the cramped space of a car, right as they had to show up at an event. 

would joy drag her out of the vehicle, disheveled and so obviously wrecked, and leash her to her person as they got to the party? would she then push her into a cubicle in the restroom, make her cum all over herself, and watch as seulgi would try to hide the evidence? would they leave early, with joy stripping her naked and tied in the backseat as she drove the long way home? 

seulgi let out a shaky breath at the thought, gaze locked on joy and her barely withheld annoyance. she could do those things. joy would do all of those things if she felt like treating seulgi that way tonight. 

"good girl," joy practically purred. her hands were back on seulgi's legs, rubbing the material of her own slacks against her. "see? it's not that hard to do what i say."

the older woman let out a whimper as joy loomed over her. 

"isn't that right?" 

seulgi nodded before joy could even finish, breathing heavily as she felt her dick leak, aroused at the sight. she groaned when joy's hands travelled to cup her groin, massaging her bulge and causing her to jerk up in response. 

she tugged on her bindings and lifted her hips, rolling against joy's palms as the younger woman curiously left seulgi clothed. no movements towards unbuckling her pants were made. what…? 

joy answered her unspoken question. "you're keeping them on." she cupped the head of seulgi's dick through the fabric and rubbed against the junction between the crown and the rest of her shaft. 

seulgi moaned at the harsh touch, titillated beyond comprehension. joy's always did this to her, sent her reeling, desperate and yearning for more of what she would be given. 

and it was obvious that it turned joy on too. the younger growled as she buried her face into seulgi's neck, ignoring the sweat and licking her skin. "bought them for you, y'know." she nipped and sucked almost feverishly, marking seulgi with love bites. "wanna see you in them. cum in them."

the older woman squirmed, the thought of being jerked off while clothed sending tingles down her spine. on her new clothes, too. 

"mmffh," seulgi groaned, eyes rolling back as joy continued fondling her, mercilessly pressing on her most sensitive buttons. 

fuck fuck fuck– it was a sick sort of satisfaction to finally receive all the touch she had been craving for, tenfold. the line between pleasure and pain was one seulgi was familiar with as joy's shadow formed over and on her. 

her lover knew all the spots to get her aching; she ground a thumb against seulgi's crown and cupped around the outline of her swollen cock with one hand, while the other massaged her tightening balls.

an eye pinched closed as seulgi gasped, feeling the telltale sign of her reaching the edge. her gut clenched, hips stirring as she felt her muscles constrict in the moments leading up to ecstasy. 

oh god oh god ohgod–i'm going to–

seulgi whimpered through the cloth between her teeth, tugged on the ties around her wrists, and unceremoniously creamed in her slacks and underwear. 

"just like that, baby. had a lot pent up in you, hm?" 

she grunted as joy cooed, caressing her through her orgasm. each spurt slowly emptied her gut but also filled her panties up, making for a sweaty, almost oppressive feeling right where her crotch was. 

the older woman shivered as she gushed the last drops of her cum, the sticky, full feeling in her underwear making her blush crimson. it was really hot–both temperature-wise and just the act of her cumming in her pants. she felt so dirty. 

seulgi let out a squeak when joy's hands continued, spreading the accumulated seed in her pants all over her slowly softening cock, cruel smirk in place. 

"give me some more," joy purred, pressing harder when the older woman jerked back. "be a good girl."

seulgi whimpered when she could no longer move further, backside practically molding into the door's interior.

what was touch that expertly balanced itself on the tightrope between pleasure and pain terrifyingly morphed into torture; joy's hands were unyielding, fluttering over seulgi's flaccid shaft and grating the material of her clothes onto her sensitive skin. 

"more?" 

seulgi shook her head frantically, legs trembling but curiously remaining wide open at the mercy of her lover. 

"i see," joy hummed, ministrations abating. seulgi let out a sound between disappointment and relief. 

joy was a good lover and an even better listener; it was just that sometimes seulgi wasn't sure of her own wants and desires. she knew it hurt, a little bit, to be fervently stimulated seconds after cumming, but–she still wanted it somehow. 

seulgi whined through the cloth, gyrating her hips once again. she wanted–she didn't know. hopefully joy could figure it out for her. 

"shhh, i know, sweetheart." 

joy continued to coo as she quickly unbuckled seulgi's pants and pulled her soiled underwear down. seulgi saw her bite her lip before readjusting herself, comfortably fitting in the rest of the backseat that seulgi wasn't occupying. 

then she curled forward, mouth hovering seulgi's cock. "gonna clean you up 'til you're good as new, baby." 

the first lick sent seulgi reeling, knocking the back of her head against the window behind her. her lower body was past the point of quivering, now shaking to the core as joy lapped her up dutifully, slurping down her seed. 

the texture of her tongue didn't change, but somehow the press of it felt rough, chafing against her oversensitive skin. there was no more room for seulgi to shy away from joy's mouth. the long minutes it took for her to be clean from all her spunk allowed her dick to stir back to life in joy's loving hands, aching once again, as if the pleasure she’d received until that point was negligible. 

when joy started pumping her again, slowly, all seulgi could do was take what she was being given. her sense of self melted away under joy's expertise, forgetting all about the overstimulation, her ruined clothes, and even the fundraiser. instead, the world was made of only her and joy; her lover's mouth, her warmth, the sound of their breathing. 

it felt like time both moved at a glacial and erratic pace for seulgi, as joy gently unbound her arms and released the hold of the cloth on her jaw. instead of retreating from the overbearing touch, however, seulgi let her limbs melt around joy's body and lazily pulled her closer.

now that seulgi's mouth and arms were free, she sang praises into joy's ear and slithered her own hand up the woman's dress. 

"so wet," seulgi managed to hum, rubbing circles onto the taller woman's swollen nub, mixing both of their groans and gasps. 

she dipped her fingers in her lover, causing a long moan to be yanked out of joy that seulgi answered with a deep, sensual kiss. 

"joy," seulgi sobbed, rutting against the pace the taller woman set as she pumped her slick cock, twisting each time she reached her mushroomed head. her member was aching, craving for joy's familiar velvet heat. "joy."

"c-come closer, baby. i can help," joy gasped as seulgi's fingers slipped out of her, stripping off her own panties and pulling her skirt up. she widened her legs so seulgi's narrow hips could slot between them, and when she aligned the woman's shaft at her entrance, steadily inching down to swallow seulgi's dick–

"oh christ, seul, seul you're so fucking good to me–"

"–joy, haah, joy pleaseplease–" 

the older woman cried out with a throaty scream the moment joy's ass met her pelvis, her girlfriend's pussy made just for her. she jerked up into the taller woman, setting an unforgiving and brutal tempo that her lover took in stride, understanding her desperation. she asked for this, after all. 

seulgi felt the churning in her gut make its presence known once more, liquid heat pooling in her balls. "i'm–hgck, ffffuck, joy!" 

her lover only ground her hips down harder, stoking the fire that was burning in the smaller woman. "g-give it to me, seul, give m-me everything," joy hissed out, bouncing atop her as she trembled and showed signs of reaching her own peak.

only the sound of flesh slapping against flesh cut through their rhythmic cries. it took three more harsh thrusts until seulgi came again–an even bigger load this time, painting the walls of joy's fluttering, clenching pussy with her hot seed. 

the lovers rode their highs for several long seconds together, mixing their body heat fluids as they came back down to reality. 

seulgi blinked out of her post coital stupor only to get lost in thought again, because holy fuck. that was amazing–and so much better than how seulgi thought her dedicated stress relief session would go. 

when she said she wanted to be dominated both mentally and physically by her lover, seulgi thought joy would resort to power play involving names and other verbally demeaning acts triggered by her fake wardrobe malfunction in the event of the made-up important fundraiser. she was not expecting all of this.

usually, their sessions would go with both taking charge–unless it was explicitly stated beforehand that one would dominate. this time, seulgi requested for joy to be in control. she wanted the chance to loosen her figuratively coiled body and mindset that were caused by the high-stress, fast-paced work environment she was constantly exposed to. 

… and if this was how it was going to go, leaving her a sloppy mess at the mercy of her partner looming above her–well. she should really ask for joy to dom more often. maybe even beg outside the bedroom. 

seulgi's mind was so clouded by bliss, she could barely tell when joy finished cleaning them both up. she only realised so when she heard the zipper of her slacks close. 

"you feeling better?" joy asked, expression of cruelty replaced by one of fondness as she caressed seulgi's sweaty hair from her face. 

"mhm." seulgi's voice was raw with adoration. the form and presence of her lover were large and reassuring; seulgi felt like she was so small in comparison. "take me home?"

"whatever my girl wants."

the trip back to their apartment passed by in a blur. seulgi tucked her hands in her lap and directed her gaze from the road to the roadside to what she could make out as joy's silhouette from her backseat view.

only when they arrived at their own car park did seulgi realise that they were previously at friend's apartment complex, making use of her dedicated tenant parking slot. 

trust in joy to plan so thoroughly. public sex wasn't exactly a crime either of them wanted to go to jail for, after all. she probably bribed irene for it. 

joy carefully guided seulgi every step of the way as they returned home, pulling her out of the car and holding her in her arms during the lift ride. 

seulgi sighed as joy closed the bathroom door behind her, dazedly watching her lover strip her in the mirror. she smiled when she saw what joy wrote on her chest. 

"easy, now." joy's voice cut through seulgi's floating thoughts. the older woman blinked as her lover sat her down in the warm bath, eventually sighing as the chill of the night air was chased away. "i've got you," joy assured her, her own naked form slipping in between seulgi's back and the end of the tub. 

the older woman could only lean back against joy and hum, quietly observing and feeling the way the other woman's hands ran over her flesh. 

she watched the lipstick wash away from her chest. the word 'mine' that had been written melted away, replaced by joy's strong fingers massaging her muscles and joy's plump lips pressing against the junction between her neck and shoulder, whispering sweet nothings. yours. 

#joygi #gp!seulgi #LS commission