#i do like the impression it gives on its own that it's missing something...

[bogology]

so true bestie all the things i like are connected to each other even if they aren't. they are now

[mononijikayu]

thinking about volleyball player! sukuna getting upset because astrophysicist! reader doesn't wanna go with him in the shower after a long day of not seeing each other.

all volleyball player! sukuna wants is to hold your hand while he's cleaning his face for the night because he wants to feel you close after being touch starved.

because god forbid a loving devoted husband like him just wants to be with and feel his dear and beloved wife close to him after a long (heartbreaking) day of not being together. god forbid that this is his love language.

"are you actually mad at me?" sukuna pouts as he stands before you, still holding your hand. "do you actually not love me anymore?"

you sighed, looking at him. "my love, i did multiple labs today. i wanna be lazy right now."

"but i missed you." he whines to you, almost like a cat after not getting the belly rubs he wants. "come on, you can sit on the stool there while i look at you prettily at the mirror, still holding my hand."

"ryomen sukuna—"

"woah, just say you don't love me anymore at this point." he cuts you off, his face looking offended. "that's not my name. how dare you?"

"my love, really....." you sighed, rolling your eyes at his antics. you looked up and saw him glaring at you, like he was ready to cry. "its just the bathroom. you're just getting cleaned up."

"god forbid a man wants to multi–task." he huffs, shaking his head at you. his eyes looked like they were begging now. a sudden change from before. his hand squeezing your own. "come on, baby. just give in."

nearly a decade or so being together with such love with ryomen sukuna, you had always known that he was clingy but you never thought that he would be this clingy after getting married to you.

in some ways, marriage didn't really change your dynamics or your feelings for each other. that's just how it was when you've been so in love and continue to be in love after all this time.

but there was something about getting married that made the intensity of his desire to hold you, to touch you even more overwhelming. his life is incomplete when he's not feeling the warmth that completes the cold sweat that comes after he sits down and leaves the court for the day.

his body demands the warmth of you to complete him when the passion of the court cools down. because at the end of the day, he will walk out of that court. he will always go and in and out of it.

but you were the only one he could never leave. you were the only one that he will never resign himself away from. you were that only exception. because you bring him to life in ways not even the thunderous intensity of that ball hitting his palm ever would.

your warmth was more than anything that could ever be in this world. and he knows it. you knew it. so, yes, you could feel annoyed at the thought of him sulking and groaning and crying and moping with neediness for you and everything about you.

but it instantly goes away. because you love this man. and he loves you. that will never go away. annoyance is temporary but wanting to love him with everything despite it all is forever.

you looked at him for one more moment, seeing the tears threaten to fall down his eyes as though he was a little child about to have a crash out over not getting his favorite lollipop. you shake your head and started smiling and then laughing.

"alright, alright. just tonight, my love. after that, we'll go to bed."

you saw the threat of tears immediately disappear as he grins widely, almost as if his melt down had never happened. almost instantly, your husband became a golden retriever who has finally gotten a treat to enjoy.

he all but embraces you with everything in him, with you being nearly falling over as you get consumed by the warmth of his much bigger built. impressively, your hands are still locked in with his.

"my love—i'm about to fall!"

he laughs. "baby, you'll never fall. not when im here to catch you!"

and you like to think that's the case. he's never let you fall anywhere. he's never let you suffer or feel like he never cares for you or loves you. instead, he keeps you high above with him in the joyous clouds, enjoying the bountiful of the love he pours everything into.

when you both go to the bathroom, he's doing his facial with his free hand while his other one still remained wrapped against your own. you continued to listen to him talk about his day with enthusiasm, his bright scarlet eyes never leaving your own, which was full of love for him.

"did you know they're finally allowing me to have my uniform and shoes engrave the 'my love' on it?"

you blinked. "you requested it? and they approved it?"

"i mean, i've asked about it the moment i signed for them babe! been wanting to keep you with me at court if i can't wear my ring." he says, beaming at you. "but since im renegotiating my contract with the tokyo great bears and with the national team, it was the demand i asked for in my contract and they said yes!"

you could feel your entire chest feel warm and your entire body turn red as the blood in pumped high with pressure, feeling overwhelmed by the love your husband has for you. you use your free hand to hide your face in your palm, out of sheer flustered feeling taking over you.

how did you ever luck out in love in a world that has such a bleak look? how could one have such a big heart to love? how could you not love him and only him? how could every bit of everything that is negative just burst out in positives when he loves you like this?

"baby, why are you lowering your head like that—"

"ah, you're so...." you groaned at him, before looking up, still red. "you're so!...."

he turns around, moved closer to you and pressed a warm kiss on your lips. you were stunned as the smell of his vanilla creme echoes into your nose. you turn redder than before.

"love you too, baby." he whispered to you, his eyes blossoming in heartfuls.

how can he always just defeat you with his love?

".....hurry up, i'm getting sleepy."

"hey, don't sleep before i can!"

[3verythingiknowaboutlove]

the limit does not exist!

how spencer helps college!reader understand a little calculus and therefore understand how he loves her.

MDNI | smut word count: 1931 warnings & tags & stuff: fem reader, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), lil bit of overstim hehe, pure unbridled affection, LOVE, FLUFF, hugging, reader cries, this was in fact meant to be written for spence's birthday... sorry about that school is kicking my butt lets just pretend it's october! author's note: this one is for my folks who HATE their calculus class and want spencer reid to give them head instead <3 maybe this can help you romanticize it a bit. i think this is classified as self indulgent…like REALLY self indulgent… hah... anyway i hope you enjoy! let me know your thoughts if u have any, i loveeeee you!! have a great day my hands are shaking posting this smut is so scary!!!!!

You sat in bed, staring down your notebook, eyes narrowed. Limits stared back at you. You were just about at your own limit, if you were being honest. 

Your brain, however sharp and witty it may be, is absolutely not one designed for calculus. A literary analysis essay? Done in half an hour. In depth scientific research project? Easiest months of your life. But there’s something about finding the instantaneous rate of change of a curve at one point in time by finding the slope of a tangent line that hasn't clicked yet. 

A slew of other papers- notes, practice worksheets printed from obscure websites, and formulas- surround you, a sea of unfinished thoughts from the past month of the semester.

You bite on the end of your pen, the little hope you had for a good grade in this class slipping further and further away with each passing moment, like the last ember dying in the remains of a fire.

What you really wanted to be doing was celebrating Spencer’s birthday with him right now. A chocolate cake lay on the kitchen counter and pasta simmers on the stove, but you and your boyfriend had agreed to do a solid hour of work before the celebrations ensued.

You were never particularly strong willed when it came to following through on such agreements.

“Teach me calculus,” you say, a very impressive three minutes later, flopping down on the couch. Your head makes its way to its forever resting spot, Spencer’s lap. He raises his eyebrows slightly, thumb reaching out to trace over the slope of your nose. His eyes flit between you and the file to the side of him. 

“I thought we agreed on an hour.”

“Yeah. But it wouldn’t be a very productive hour if I didn’t know how to do what I have to do. And I missed you.” 

He sighs quietly, closing the file next to him. 

“What do you not understand?” You smile at that, loving how quickly you won.

“Related rates. Like, conceptually.” 

Spencer hums in response.

“It’s October. You’re not even supposed to know related rates yet.”

“Fine. Then let's open presents,” you respond, smiley. His eyebrows get impossibly higher, hand stroking your cheek delicately.

“No. I want our night to be a little more stress free when we celebrate, okay? How about you think about that lovely cake you made for me. What if I decided to squash it so that the diameter would get bigger, going from…let’s say, 20 centimeters to 26 centimeters in 3 seconds, and the height would get smal-”

“That wouldn't be nice. It took me like four hours,” you interrupt, grumbling. He cracks a smile.

“For the sake of the example, let's say I was an awful boyfriend and really wanted to ruin all the hard work you put in for me.”

You roll your eyes.

“Hey,” he says, hand moving down to touch your jaw softly. “Don’t do that. Don’t be difficult. I’m helping you.”

“Sorry. I guess I need you to zoom out a little. I don’t really get why I’m learning this as a whole.” Spencer’s eyes pore into yours, staring down at you adoringly for a small moment as he comes up with an answer.

“Calculus helps us begin to explain the unexplainable by harnessing what we can,” Spencer says simply. “Einstein once said that, ‘Pure mathematics is, in its way, the poetry of logical ideas,’ which makes it simple in practice, but I actually like to think about it as the opposite philosophically. Trying to find logic in the more poetic ideas.”

You cuddle deeper in his lap.

“Think he would agree with that?” you ask. “I do answer to Einstein before you, unfortunately.” Spencer bends down to kiss your hair.

“I think so. He also had a really nice quote where he remarked that, ‘Gravitation cannot be held responsible for people falling in love.’ He said, ‘How on earth can you explain in terms of chemistry and physics so important a biological phenomenon as first love? Put your hand on a stove for a minute and it seems like an hour. Sit with that special girl for an hour and it seems like a minute. That's relativity.’”

Spencer takes a deep breath.

“Math doesn’t explain how I love you. It can’t. But I love the fact that it tries to. It kinda makes you wanna learn it as best you can.”

You process that for a long second and nod. He keeps talking.

… 

Presents get opened, and cake gets eaten before dinner. Of course.

You’re now in bed, on top of the covers, forcing Spencer to give you a fashion show of the new sweater vest and tie you got him. He turns to you after putting it on, and you beam. 

“I really like it. You look great. Do you like it?” you ask. He nods, smiling back at you.

“I’m gonna wear it to work tomorrow.” 

You beckon for Spencer to come closer, sitting up in bed. Your hands go out to the tie, tugging at the knot softly. He stares down at you until eventually interrupting your motions with a slow kiss, hands cupping your face.

“You’re so pretty,” he mutters.

He pulls away and finishes what you started, folding the tie neatly and setting it in the drawer. Then comes the vest, and soon enough, he’s just in his boxers.

“You’re the pretty one,” you say quietly. “Come to bed.” He crawls on next to you, tugging you into his arms. “Happy birthday, Spence. I love you.” He dips his forehead to your shoulder.

“I love you.”

Before you know it, he’s shifted on top of you, moving down. Fast. You blink, hard, trying to rid your head of the hazy endorphins as you register what he’s doing.

“What? No, I was gonna do that. It’s your birthday. You don’t have to,” you protest.

“But I really, really want to, darling girl,” he murmurs back, kissing your knee and softly pushing it to the side.

You fluster and Spencer just looks at you, fingers tracing shapes on your waist, waiting for you to be ready. 

“Well. Um. Okay. If you insist. I can’t really deny the birthday boy.” Your voice is small, and a little giddy smile grows on your face. Of course Spencer Reid would want to give you head on his birthday. 

He smiles a little against the bare skin of your hip where your top meets your shorts. Then he meets your eyes. 

“You know you can, though, right?” he asks, voice a little more serious. You reach out to touch his hair softly. 

“Yeah. I know.”

Fingers hook your shorts, gently pulling them down. He presses a kiss to your thigh, and then he suddenly looks down at it. 

“Soft,” he murmurs, like he’s making a mental note. He presses another, and another, incrementally going closer and closer to your soaked through underwear. His eyebrows scrunch when he sees the wet spot. “All this from a few kisses?” 

You blush, unable to respond. 

Spencer’s fingers hook a centimeter of your underwear. “These?” he checks.

“Yes, please,” you manage. He tugs them down, silently noticing the slickness of your sex, and exhales shakily.

“How many times on average does it take for a guy to call you pretty on a given day before you get annoyed?” he murmurs, soft smile playing on his face. You smile too, head cloudy from his words, but it immediately drops when his lips press directly against your pulsing clit, kissing it softly.

“Fuck,” you say (Spencer would argue moan) softly (loudly). You let out a content sigh, and he moves to suckle it, actions becoming less and less delicate. 

It’s not harsh, but incessant. Spencer knows what you can take. He knows exactly what you can take. You’re both quiet for a bit, save for your breathy moans. 

“Spencer,” you say softly, ripping you both out of your individually hazy and dirty and distracted minds. “You’re too far away.” He looks up to you, face parallel to your aching core, hair beautifully messy and mouth glistening.

After a second, he grabs your hips, gently pushing you up against the pillows so you’re propped up at a better angle. He then shifts his body up wordlessly so he’s more above you, dipping his head down to give you a soft kiss. You taste yourself, tongue darting out to lick your lips.

His hand takes over where his mouth was, sliding in between your folds with a practiced ease. Spencer looks down at you, eyes wide and flitting between yours, searching for a reaction.

You reach out and wrap your arms around him, holding him close. “Holy shit, I love you,” you murmur.

His fingers lightly graze your clit again before one slides into you. “Angel,” he breathes out, so quietly. “I love you too. This okay? Are you okay?”

You nod feverishly and lift your hips to meet his hand, always in a perpetual state of wanting more, to be closer. Your bodies are melded so close together, barely giving him room to push his hand into you. He doesn’t even bother to ask you to use your words or keep your hips down, like he might on a regular night.

He pulls his head back to watch as he pushes another finger into you, stretching you just a little. “There we go. You always feel like heaven around me.”

Your eyes flit up to his face as he says those words, now having a little more room to observe him. You focus on the slope of his nose and curve of his mouth. 

“You’re so perfect,” you say quietly, adoringly, before you even realize it was true.

You blink at that thought. Spencer Reid is perfect, despite whatever universal odds deeming that impossible.

Those graphs, those formulas, now laying discarded & crumpled on the ground. They click, a little bit. You understand why Albert Einstein wanted to spend his life developing theories of relativity.

This is how Spencer sees you? What he was talking about earlier?

This is how he sees you?

The thought is almost too much.

Spencer sees your face, and not knowing what's going on in your head, slides down his free hand from your cheek to your carotid, feeling your racing pulse. “Take a deep breath for me, okay? You're about to come, huh?”

You inhale and are met with peace. Then your orgasm hits you like a wave. You clench hard around his fingers, and he just watches it happen, fascinated. “Baby,” he coos softly at you.

It wasn’t just your sensitivity he’s currently maximizing on or the little kisses he dips down to leave on your neck that sealed the deal, but the very thought that you could be loved in a way that is so perfectly impossible.

You exhale breathily as Spencer pushes you through the last trails of your climax, fingers not caring one bit that you just had your world tilted on its axis. 

“Spencer. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod,” you say eventually, overstimulated.

“You’re okay. Did so good.” he murmurs, fingers slipping out of you. 

His thumb brushes your cheek, wiping away a tear you didn't even realize was dripping down.

“Don’t cry, you always cry. It’s my birthday. Don’t cry on my birthday,” he whispers soothingly, affection lacing his voice.

“I’m not.” 

Another one falls. 

You reach and press out that perpetual little slope between his eyebrows with your thumb, gentle, like you might break him. “I’m not crying.”

Spencer lets you lie.

[prael]

Day 3: Reciprocation

Itzy Yeji x male reader smut

words: 6,714 12 Days of Praelmas Masterlist

If there's one thing you've learned dealing with the rich, the famous and the devious, it's that there's always a deal to be made.

-

"Not often that I see a girl like you in a place like this."

"Well, you're an incredibly difficult man to track down."

It's the girl who's supposed to be on the main page of your site starting tomorrow morning. You gesture for Yeji to sit by your side, and while there are more than enough empty seats around you, she prefers to stand. What is this, a fucking power move?

"Well, you could have just called my office and made yourself an appointment."

It doesn't amuse her. She simply brings her hands up to rest on her hips as she looks at you.

"Look, let's get to the point. You can't post the article." There is something rather endearing in watching how she talks to you. Her hips are cocked and her face bears a look of determination, but she lacks confidence. You're not sure she even believes herself. Maybe she's just hoping that you'll cave.

You meet her eyes and hold her gaze for a few moments, searching for a crack in her armour. It's hard to say for certain when the only lighting in this club is what little neon they have on display, but there seems to be something else hiding behind her stare. A nervous energy, perhaps. So, you correct her, "I can post the article."

"Look— I, I have money." She takes a single stride towards you, with her long slender legs of which only part of her thigh is covered by the bottom of her dress. That thing clings to them like it does every other inch of her body. One hell of a figure.

"I'm well aware."

"Okay then, how much money will it take for you to drop the article?"

"Money doesn't compare to an article like this one—you know that. Come on," you lean forward a bit. "You should be smarter than that."

"How much?!" Yeji says again. There's an edge to her voice now and a stern look in her eyes. She must feel that you're not taking her seriously—honestly, you aren't. You can't count the number of times an agency has tried to block an article by simply throwing money your way. The novelty has worn off. 

"Listen, Miss Hwang, I appreciate the effort you have gone through to manufacture a meeting with me, however, just like I told your PR team, I'm not for sale. Should you want to avoid this sort of thing, then I'd recommend being a little more discreet the next time you want to fuck around." You glance at the door leading out. The exit sign above is blinking erratically, but it serves its intended purpose nonetheless. "I'll see you in tomorrow morning's news."

"No."

"No?" You raise an eyebrow. She may be a star and she may make people go crazy in more ways than one, but if you've learned something about yourself over the years, it's that you aren't as easily swayed by beauty alone, nor impressed by fame.

Yeji remains silent, her eyes looking down to the table in front of you and your mind instantly starts conjuring up scenarios where the girl goes into a screaming fit or starts throwing a tantrum until security drags her sorry ass out the door.

Her head snaps up again. "Fine." Yeji turns sideways and steps around the small table. It becomes apparent that she plans on sitting by your side, after all. She isn't exactly looking at you as she plops herself onto the cushioned bench. "You said 'next time', right?" She begins quietly.

In spite of yourself, a smile appears on your face when you see the wheels turn inside of Yeji's head. "I don't think I understand."

"Yes, you do," Yeji replies dryly. And with the certainty now back in her voice, it appears you've misjudged her.

When you remain silent for a few moments, Yeji eventually gives in and takes a quick, inconspicuous breath before looking up again. Her face is but inches from your own. "Have sex with me tonight."

It takes effort not to burst into laughter in response to such an absurd offer, and as a result, the amusement is probably pretty damn clear in the tone of your reply. "You're cute."

"I'm serious."

You look the girl in the eyes once more, leaning backwards. "You know how much trouble you could get into for trying something like this, right?"

Yeji's jaw clenches momentarily. "Yeah."

You gaze down along her body again. The skin on her thighs seems smooth and silky; definitely worth a closer inspection, and you would be lying if you said the knowledge of her dirty hook-ups didn't have your mind wondering about all the ways she might be willing to work her body in an attempt to sway you. You wonder if she likes it rough; likes having someone grab hold of those black locks of hers and yank her head back. Likes having a cock slammed down her throat. Your thoughts quickly go into a tailspin which has you imagining Yeji crawling towards you dressed up in nothing but skimpy lingerie, a hungry smile plastered across her face and a yearning desire to find out what sort of mess you could turn her into.

"So," you begin quietly. "I don't release an article about the K-pop star who keeps sneaking out into hotels to get herself fucked���and in exchange, I get to sleep with the K-pop star who keeps sneaking out into hotels to get herself fucked. Do I have that right?"

You see the embarrassment cross Yeji's features briefly, yet she still manages to bite out her reply with certainty: "Yes."

For some reason, even though she's been found out and forced into making such an absurd deal, she refuses to lower her gaze away from yours, almost daring you to judge her. You've seen her music videos online—goddamnit, everyone has—and she's sexy as hell. No one would deny that, and she looks stunning in that black dress of hers. It really compliments her figure. Legs go on for days, a toned physique and looking down the front of her dress as she leans into you, a pretty little pair of tits hidden somewhere in there as well.

"I've been propositioned before, you know, but usually that's to get their face on the front page, not off it." You cock your head at her. "How badly do you want this dropped, anyway?"

"What are you trying to say?"

You lean back slowly, deliberately, resting your shoulders against the seat as you feel Yeji's eyes study your every move. Despite the terrible lighting, you can tell she's biting her lip nervously. She's so close that the scent coming off her fills the air around you. It's a pleasant smell. One you wouldn't mind having all over your bed.

"I'll be blunt." Your eyes fall to her chest and you take note of how Yeji squirms under your stare. A tiny smile appears on your lips. "I'd love to fuck you. Hell, anyone in their right mind would love to fuck you. You're a very attractive girl, after all." You nod in her direction. "So, that part will happen if I agree to this deal of yours, however, there's one thing you haven't accounted for."

Yeji meets your stare. Her voice is low, yet resolute. "Which is?"

"You have no idea of whether or not I'm actually going to uphold my end of the bargain."

She pauses in silence and then moves her hand across the table, scooping up your drink and raising it to her full lips. As she knocks back the remainder, the way her slender neck stretches makes you wish you could wrap your hands around it.

The glass hits the table and Yeji licks her lips softly. The sight has you licking your own and for just a second, the both of you simply gaze at each other in silence, almost sizing each other up. Yeji finally shifts closer to you until she's right by your side. Her breasts press up against your shoulder and you feel her warmth on your arm.

One of her delicate hands lands gently in your lap and slides upwards onto your thigh where she starts to draw small circles with her fingertips. You wonder if she notices the slight hitch in your breath as she touches you. "We can go to your office. Sign a document. Legally binding. Non-disclosure. And agree to write a favourable piece about me. You can send out the request to your best columnist there and then. And then you can take me right there." Her words come out in soft whispers and her eyes dart over your face, trying to read your reaction.

Yeji is young and beautiful and she's clearly horny enough to get herself into this kind of mess. It doesn't come as too much of a surprise to you, then, when you feel a delicate fingertip trace over your crotch. "Take you?"

"On your desk. Over your desk," she elaborates shamelessly and with a hint of cheek in her voice. There's a smug expression on her face. She's enjoying herself but also relieved to be getting through to you. "However you want me."

"So, it's an exchange? A dirty deal done in the darkness?"

Yeji smirks. "I prefer to call it reciprocation."

-

Friday night in the office and it still has the passive hum of life, though not much of it. Cutting through the air is the loud clack of Yeji's high heels as she follows you silently past empty room after empty room. The interns putting in the long hours are all on the lower floors, giving you just enough discretion.

You glance back briefly at her before rounding the corner. Just like you had imagined, she seems rather timid now. Head held slightly down and glancing around the place, almost like she's embarrassed to be here with you.

Finally, you reach your private office near the far wall of the floor and wave Yeji inside. As you step up to your desk and turn, Yeji closes the door behind herself and watches you intently. The soft light in here gives you a much better opportunity to appreciate her.

"Come." You gesture her over while simultaneously logging into your PC.

It only takes a few simple clicks to bring up a basic confidentiality agreement which you proceed to edit. "As requested," you begin. "This agreement prohibits me from writing anything related to your numerous encounters with nameless men and women in various hotels throughout Seoul. Failure to abide by these terms enables you to take legal action against me and my firm to any extent deemed necessary."

She places her palms on the desk as you turn the monitor to show her. She reads it. You read here. Leaning forward has the front of her dress hang open a bit further. It's the first glance you get of her red bra underneath and the swell of her chest, just big enough for handfuls. She sees your wandering eyes, yet continues to scan the terms of the contract. It makes you curious if the idea of being looked at like some cheap slut turns her on. Maybe you should try referring to her as such. Would she object? Or encourage?

Yeji nods in approval and you click 'print'. She looks past you, watching it emerge from the machine.

"That's all we need," you say, never looking away from her. There's something mesmerising about her eyes. They're large, they're dark and they tend to draw you in. "Now I can't expose your whorish tendencies."

She looks offended momentarily. "Whorish?"

"Two months. Forty-two hotel visits were recorded. Thirty-five different partners." The chair rolls away as you push it back and stand up, towering over her frame. "Yes, you're fucking whorish, Yeji. Our research was thorough."

"I'm just having fun." She stops leaning on the desk. You both take a step in unison, beginning to round the desk while staring each other down. The moment feels tense. "There's nothing wrong with that."

"Oh, I agree completely."

Another step. Another inch towards each other.

"There's no shame in being a bit of a slut. An incredibly beautiful slut."

A third.

You're face to face. Those heels make her almost as tall as you, and you glance at Yeji's lips as the tip of her tongue suddenly darts out over them. The only sound between the two of you is your shared breathing. Yeji tilts her head back slightly and gazes into your eyes, waiting expectantly for you to act upon your desire. Waiting for you to throw her onto the desk and fuck the living shit out of her, just as she asked for.

You wait.

Her lower lip disappears beneath the bite of her teeth.

Wait.

A sudden flush rises up onto Yeji's cheeks, undoubtedly born from her frustration, but you don't miss the excitement hiding within it either. Then, Yeji takes another step forward, one which has you taking hold of her waist, pushing yourself hard up against her body.

Almost instantly, the pair of you go from hesitant to frantic, moving without a single word being spoken between either of you.

Your mouths meet in an open-mouthed kiss of heat, passion and impatience. There's a gasp coming from somewhere, a mixture of a moan as the two of you collide. It takes more willpower than expected not to shove your tongue down Yeji's throat as you feel hers slide against yours in an instant. Fingernails dig into your neck; not hard enough to leave marks, yet not soft enough to be mistaken as anything else than a woman showing what she wants. It's exactly what you wanted to do when you first saw her tonight.

She bites on your lip, sucks on it and goes straight back in. You grab hold of her tightly and shuffle her backwards towards the desk. You can barely restrain yourself. A groan rises up in the depths of your stomach when Yeji parts her legs slightly, welcoming your body in between them.

Every part of you tells you to bend her over and start hammering yourself into her, yet there's still one last detail you must attend to. You break free of Yeji's grasp and shove her roughly down onto your desk.

Her hair fans out around her head and her gaze looks darker somehow, more lustrous under this light. You follow her shape, down, over the bumps of her breasts, the dip of her waist, the curve of her hips and then to the hem of her dress, where bare thigh begins again. She shudders under the weight of your stare. Legs falling apart, invitingly.

You feel Yeji tremble under your tender touch as you run your hand up the outside of her thigh and push up the fabric of her dress. The tips of your fingers bump along the rim of her underwear before reaching her hip where you trace shapes absentmindedly. She's smooth and silky everywhere.

"What is it?" Yeji asks breathlessly when you don't move for a few moments. Your attention remains firmly locked on that final detail. The thin lace material covering her cunt.

You look her dead in the eyes and curl your fingers around it. "Just wondering how many different people have had you like this."

The red lace is pulled aside. Yeji stares at you, seemingly taken aback by your bluntness as you lean down a little further and angle her leg to the side, letting cool air hit every inch of her bare sex. And it's a lovely sight, all things considered. Neat, trimmed and glistening wet. Your hand moves across her thigh to hold her in place. "Usually I'm on top," Yeji replies, finally regaining her confidence.

"You'd rather be riding me, huh?"

"Yes." Yeji's answer comes immediately. Your cock is stiffening already at the mere thought of having her small body bouncing in your lap as she rides your length like a bitch in heat.

She runs her own hands up her slender frame, feeling up the sides of her own waist, skirting around those perky tits and letting out the smallest whimper of anticipation as she caresses the side of her neck. Her eyelashes flutter with desire. It seems the girl enjoys being admired just as much as you enjoy admiring.

"Don't worry, you'll get to ride it soon enough." Slowly, you drag your middle finger up between her folds, making sure you put enough pressure down against the sweet little bud of nerves to make her arch her back at the sensation. A deep inhale catches itself in the back of Yeji's throat when you sink your fingertip inside of her, only for it to turn into a disappointed sigh when you withdraw.

She bites her lip in embarrassment, no doubt mortified that she couldn't keep quiet at such a simple action, although that doesn't stop you from repeating the movement, applying more pressure and then sinking further into her. This time you withdraw and then taste your finger curiously. If the sweet scent wafting off her wasn't enough indication, she tastes as good as she looks.

"How are you so wet already?" you ask. "All from thinking about getting railed over my desk, hmm?" You ask teasingly, lowering your mouth down closer to her pussy and holding your breath for a moment. You can feel the warmth coming off her.

"It's exciting."

"What, fucking a stranger?"

"Yes," Yeji says bluntly. She wets her lips. "There's nothing quite like giving yourself up to someone completely random."

Your hand slides down her calf and gently pulls off her heel. As soon as it hits the ground, it's replaced with a slow and tender kiss on the inside of her ankle. The skin is just as smooth and supple as the rest of her. From here you have a much better view of how her delicate little flower pulses in longing.

Your head dips and you suck hard on Yeji's inner thigh. You delight in the surprised yelp leaving her mouth as you rake your teeth over her soft skin, pulling at it before letting go. It leaves behind a lovely purple bruise which you blow cold air over, soothing the irritated skin. It makes you smile, knowing that mark will remain for a week, to be seen by whoever she fucks next.

"Do you get excited thinking about having me join the list of cocks pounding away at you?"

Without allowing Yeji time to think, your tongue finds her clit and starts drawing shapes around it. "Yes!" You hear her hiss. Your left arm reaches under her thigh and keeps her pinned down to the table while your right does the same, only giving your tongue freedom to dance over her wet cunt.

You sample her thoroughly, getting her used to the feeling of your warm tongue running over every part of her. You apply more pressure to your work once you notice Yeji bucking her hips upwards to grind against your mouth.

"Oh shit." Yeji is panting heavily now, gasping for breath whenever you pay special attention to her clit. Her thighs quiver every so often, tensing around your head. "Don't—don't stop."

Yeji has the nicest legs you've ever laid eyes on. The way they wrap tightly around your head, squeezing the air out of you when you suck down on her swollen clit, it feels heavenly.

Suddenly, Yeji's hips thrust forward, throwing your rhythm off momentarily.

"Mmm, oh—fuck," she whimpers as you feel her body shake and quiver underneath your touch. Your pace doesn't slacken even once throughout.

"Fuck," Yeji whines louder this time. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum."

Already?

You put more pressure on her hips, keeping them pinned down as best as possible, whilst your tongue attacks her with fervent desperation, spurred on by Yeji's declaration. As the seconds pass by, Yeji becomes more vocal, though not with her words—with her actions. Her breathing picks up noticeably. Soon it becomes short and ragged. Her chest heaves. Her fingers claw into the surface below her. Her spine curves beautifully and her lips hang open wide, allowing loud cries to escape her.

She practically sings out for you as her nails scratch at your desk, looking for something to hold on to, something to ground her. Her whole body tenses up for several moments.

Then it happens.

Her mouth opens up wide yet no sound comes out, her back arches almost unnaturally and her juices coat your chin. The silence hangs in the air, heavy, palpable as her walls contract in ecstasy. Then it's finally broken with a loud snap. One of her fake nails pops off and flies across the room as she grips too hard on the edge of the desk.

Then she moans. Guttural, wanton, unrestrained, absolutely filthy. It fills the room, reverberating back to you in a delicious chorus of hedonism and pleasure. She lies there limp with her eyes shut. Her mouth open. Panting heavily. Basking in the glow.

"So easily?" you ask quietly. Yeji takes a deep breath, trying to steady her heart rate. Your hands leave her hips, caressing her trembling flesh, sliding upwards, running up her dress and over the curve of her waist until you reach her shoulders. You tug the straps down the length of her arms and lean closer, pushing the soft material down to reveal the top of her matching red lingerie. Your hand cups the back of her head. She instinctively knows to lift it.

You lower your lips down to her collarbone as you reach behind her to unzip her dress. The sensation of your kisses against her neck draws another moan out of Yeji. A quiet one this time, however. Gentle. Contended.

You kiss upwards, planting several against the underside of her jaw and the corners of her lips. "I can't stop myself," she whispers, opening her eyes just in time for you to press your lips against hers, tasting the lingering sweetness in your mouth. She smiles.

"Let's get you out of that dress," you say and she nods in agreement. "Up," you order softly and Yeji complies, lifting herself high enough for you to pull the material down her waist and over the length of her thighs. It falls to the ground in a heap at her feet. All that remains is the expensive-looking red underwear set she chose for this occasion.

The two of you exchange looks. She bites her lip. She can see the burning lust raging within your eyes. You don't care if it gives the game away.

There's an absolutely wicked smile that draws across her lips as you start to unbutton your shirt. Her voice is all sultry seduction when she says, "I've been meaning to ask you, are you always swayed so easily?"

"Honestly? Not really," you respond calmly, watching how her eyes eagerly take in your torso as you shrug off your clothing. "Maybe there is something about you that's just..." you trail off, unsure of how to end the sentence.

Yeji sits up on the edge of the desk and throws her arms around your neck, dragging you in closer so that your bodies connect. You feel her lips press against your chest in soft kisses. A finger trails over your abdomen, drawing patterns over your skin before moving downwards. "Yes?"

"Different." Your belt is quickly undone and dropped alongside her dress. Nimble fingers begin unbuttoning your trousers. You run your hands through her hair, appreciating how silky it feels running through your fingers.

Yeji has her gaze focused between your bodies, on her hands as they push your jeans down to the floor and you notice the change in her breathing the moment she wraps her hand around your cock.

She kisses her way up to your neck where her lips tickle your skin as she mumbles: "In a good way?"

Yeji presses the flat of her palm against the base of your erection, rubbing slowly. Your head tilts backwards slightly and you allow yourself a low groan. There's a warm puff of air as she giggles quietly against your neck.

"In a great way," you answer.

"Good," she purrs, suddenly tightening her grip on you and giving you several deliberate strokes. You watch intently as Yeji runs her thumb over the tip of your dick, circling it a few times before continuing with her motions. She leans closer, wrapping her legs around your body and placing her mouth by your ear. "I know what I said earlier about loving to ride a cock and all that," her voice is filled with lust. Pure, unbridled desire. "But honestly? I'd do just about anything right now to have you fuck me against this desk."

And that does it for you.

All semblance of control vanishes entirely in a heartbeat.

You drag her from her perch, only to turn her around and push her right back against the desk. Yeji bends over the edge and places both her palms flat atop it. You watch her toned legs move apart as she spreads them invitingly. Your hand reaches out to rest on her ass.

Soft. Round. Supple. Just begging to be fucked. Your dick rests comfortably between her cheeks, which are covered by the flimsiest piece of lace you've ever seen. The pair of you groan together in anticipation at the sensation of feeling each other so intimately. The anticipation of what is soon to come.

"You want me to fuck you, huh?" you ask.

Yeji turns her head to look at you, dark strands of black hair hanging before her beautiful, desperate eyes. "Please."

She waits expectantly as you move back just enough to hook your fingers into her underwear and pull them down slowly, revealing the pretty little cunt you had tasted earlier. The desk is ever so slightly too tall for her, and her long legs stretch to rest on her tiptoes.

You run your hand down between Yeji's pert cheeks, delighting in the gasp of relief leaving her mouth as you cup her heat. Your fingers slip through her slick, coating themselves with her natural arousal before one sinks inside effortlessly. You push it deep, drawing a content sigh from her lips as your digit bottoms out.

A second follows shortly after and she clenches hard around the pair of them.

"Your cock," Yeji demands. You curl your fingers inside of her, delighted by how she struggles to speak when you graze her weak spots. "Want it..."

"But this is fun," you state simply, continuing to explore every inch of her, learning which places cause the biggest reactions and relishing in her quiet hums of satisfaction every time you stimulate them. You'd be lying if you said it didn't make your cock pulse with the need to be inside her. That warm wetness wrapped snugly around your fingers would feel downright amazing around you.

Yeji wriggles her body, pressing her ass against you and whimpering as your digits push inside again. "Please... your cock." Your eyes drop from the beauty bent over in front of you and focus instead on the sight of your fingers disappearing repeatedly between those gorgeous legs. How her muscles clench and her toes curl against the carpet with each and every motion of your digits inside her. She looks ready. She feels ready.

"Well, seeing as you're asking so nicely—"

You slip your fingers out. The whine of loss from Yeji barely has time to fade as you grab hold of her ass with both hands, spread it out, line yourself up with her cunt and sink inside without hesitation. Fuck it. Why go slow?

"Oh god," Yeji moans as your hips meet. Her knuckles turn white as she claws at the surface of the desk in an effort to cope with the feeling of fullness that she's clearly experiencing right now. Her eyes widen and she bites hard into the back of her lip as her cunt stretches around you, accommodating you perfectly. She exhales deeply.

It's all worth it—the workplace compromise. This moment right here where your thick cock rests deep inside of Hwang Yeji's warm, wet cunt. Finally. And holy fucking hell—it's everything you could've ever asked for.

"I knew you'd feel so fucking good," you murmur, trailing your hands up Yeji's slender figure, feeling her back tense slightly when she lets out a small moan of agreement. Your fingers tangle into her long hair, wrap it around your fist, give a harsh tug to pull her head backwards, earning a sharp intake of air—and then you start rutting your hips into hers. Long, forceful strokes fill the air with repeated claps of skin slapping against skin.

The choked moans which tumble from Yeji's lips are music to your ears, encouraging you to keep her pinned down against your desk with a strong hand on the small of her back. Your fingertips press into her flawless skin hard enough to bruise, yet neither of you cares—not when there are far more important matters to attend to. Namely, pounding Yeji's brains out and filling her tight little pussy with ropes of hot cum.

So, you pick up your pace, quickening the tempo and making sure each thrust of your hips goes harder than the previous. Her mouth hangs open in a silent scream with each movement of your body against hers. Every slap of your hips against her ass elicits a reaction.

You're already addicted to her. Everything about Yeji makes you want to hold nothing back, and as you pull yourself out only to slam back inside her depths, you can't help but notice the absolute debauchery dripping from her words when she begs: "Harder. Fuck me harder."

And who are you to refuse her request? She looks incredible anyway, but seeing her eyes screw shut in bliss while a strand of saliva escapes past her open mouth? Nothing would convince you to let up now.

The constant clatter of objects rattling and shifting across the surface of your desk adds a nice soundtrack to the experience. So do the increasingly frequent moans spilling freely from Yeji's lips, each one higher-pitched than the last. They spur you on. Give you the incentive to chase after her pleasure.

And then you feel the telltale clamping down of her walls around you. Your cock is held tightly in her warmth, refusing to relinquish its grasp on you until you've filled her with cum. Until you've pumped your load deep inside of her wanting cunt. You know it's coming and you adjust accordingly. Forcing yourself to maintain rhythm as you pound her pussy into submission.

You yank on her hair and tug her upwards, forcing her back to crash against your torso. You bring your other hand to her chest, sliding beneath the fabric of her bra to cup at her tit. Her hands desperately search for but fail to find, purchase on the desk. She's helplessly suspended between your grasp and your cock as she cums. Helpless to do anything except take it. Take what she's given.

An indecent series of shrieks and wails erupts from somewhere deep within her chest as Yeji's body seizes up and convulses violently against yours. It sets you off. You bury yourself hilt-deep inside of her and explode. Your vision goes blurry, your toes curl, your jaw clenches shut and your teeth grind painfully together.

It takes everything within you not to collapse forwards on top of the girl you're filling to the brim, instead relying solely on the strength of your grip to stay upright as your cock jerks erratically inside of her, pulsating again and again, releasing stream after stream of creamy spunk deep into her.

As soon as the world stops spinning and the fog starts clearing from your mind, you're met with the sight of Hwang Yeji trying desperately to regain any semblance of control over her own body as well. She's slumped atop your desk, panting heavily, her body twitching occasionally.

You lean down, peppering a gentle trail of kisses down the side of her neck, stopping briefly at the space just below her ear where you whisper, "You look stunning like this."

It takes Yeji several seconds before she manages a reply. She eventually opens her eyes halfway and gives you an exhausted smile. "Like what?"

"Sweaty. Thoroughly used. Filled to the fucking brim."

Your comment draws a faint giggle from her which ends abruptly the moment you drag yourself backwards, slipping your softening cock out of her cunt along with the rush of semen that spills from her and trickles onto your desk.

"Oh god," Yeji mutters as the mess slips from between her legs. She pushes herself up from her prone position and lifts herself off your table, leaving behind a lovely sticky patch where her crotch had rested. You stumble towards your chair and plop down on it, resting your back against the cool leather whilst admiring Yeji's flushed features.

"I still haven't gotten to ride your cock yet."

"I don't know if I—"

Yeji drops to her knees in front of you and grabs the base of your shaft without a second thought, squeezing it lightly and causing it to stiffen slightly. "Well I do," she declares.

She leans closer.

You catch sight of your reflection in her dark brown eyes just before Yeji extends her tongue, running it carefully over the sensitive skin of your cock before planting a wet kiss against the tip. Then she does it again. And again. The movements become a pattern until, suddenly, you're enveloped by the heat of Yeji's mouth.

"Ah," you gasp as she takes you. So sensitive to the touch of her tongue as it swirls around you. She hums approvingly at your reaction and slides deeper, taking your semi-erect cock further into her mouth as she continues to suck you off. Her head bobs slowly up and down, gradually coaxing you back to life until she slips you out from between her lips with a pop.

"That got you hard fast enough." Yeji grins. She stands up straight, and then your jaw falls open slightly at the sight of Yeji reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra. It falls to the ground in slow motion. Delicate pale skin stretches beautifully over perky breasts topped with cute pink nipples. God damn.

Yeji straddles your lap, trapping your body underneath hers. It doesn't take much to push you inside. To have her slide down the length of your shaft once again. She sits still for a few seconds, grinding her hips subtly against yours whilst biting on her lower lip. "Fuck, this feels good." She rotates her hips in little circles. "Feel that? I'm still full of your cum."

The pace is slower now. You're content to sit back, listen to the sounds of wet, sloppy sex filling the office air, and watch how her beautiful features contort with pleasure when your cock scrapes against a weak spot. There's something incredibly arousing about having such a famous idol sitting in your lap, fucking herself silly on your dick alone. She uses it like a toy to chase after her own pleasure.

One of her hands laces itself into your hair, tugging on it harshly. You retaliate with equal ferocity by sinking your fingers into Yeji's plump ass. It earns you a wonderful hiss of approval which comes accompanied by a tight squeeze around your shaft as her free hand moves down between your bodies and furiously rubs at her clit.

It's not long before you realise that she's close, and judging by her frantic behaviour, you figure she isn't looking to make it last longer.

Yeji whimpers cutely. Her head falls backwards, exposing her perfect neck. An expanse of unblemished, untouched skin that simply demands to be marked. Claimed. Taken.

And so you lean forwards, place your mouth on the soft skin and start sucking on it, nipping at the supple flesh. You feel her tighten around you instantly.

"Oh god!" She cries out. Yeji tries to bounce in your lap but fails miserably. She's no longer in control of her body. All she can do is quiver, cry out, and gasp in ecstasy as another orgasm surges through her. It's nowhere near as powerful as the previous two. Instead, it's drawn out. Lasting longer and keeping her moaning throughout.

When it's over and done with, you release your hold on her neck. In return, her exhausted head comes to rest against your shoulder. Her hot pants hit your cheek as she lay there limply against your frame.

"Too much?" you tease and Yeji scoffs. You give her a gentle spank and ask, "That's all you've got?"

"Just catching my breath."

She puts action to word immediately and picks herself back up. There's a determination etched all over her face as she brings both arms to rest on your shoulders, locking you in place and supporting herself on top of you. The expression she wears leaves little room for misinterpretation; this one is yours.

Yeji begins riding you again. Slowly at first, letting herself grow accustomed to the sensation of being filled again. Then faster. Harder. Using your cock to fuck herself on. Taking charge once more. You happily allow her to have it. Glad to let the beautiful starlet do whatever the fuck she wants with your body. Relishing the fact that you're balls-deep inside of her and she loves every inch of you.

"I need it," Yeji whines, slamming herself down on top of you again and again, her soft ass smacking against your thighs repeatedly. Her hair billows wildly around her, sticking to her sweaty skin, flying every which way without rhyme or reason, driven mad by her insatiable desire to keep on going. She keeps saying things under her breath, nonsensical at best, unintelligible at worst.

But her efforts get results. As much as you want to prolong the moment forever, your body can only handle so much. Pleasure courses through your veins like electricity, setting alight every nerve ending within your body until finally, you feel that familiar heat rise from somewhere deep within.

Yeji must sense it because she suddenly kicks it up yet another notch, crying out incoherently as she drops down on your shaft once more, twice more—a third time sends you toppling over the edge. You grip her hips tight, digging your fingertips deep into her flesh as your cock pulses powerfully inside of her cunt, painting her walls white.

She drags it out. Uses gravity to force you as deep inside as possible, allowing every single drop to spill inside of her again. Your eyes roll into the back of your skull as you grunt loudly. Any coherent thought becomes impossible as you cum.

Once more, it takes several moments before you come back down from the clouds. When reality sets in again, Yeji is still straddled atop your lap, watching you with an amused grin stretching from ear to ear. You're left with nothing else to do except admire how her flushed cheeks accentuate her gorgeous features even further.

"I know. I know," she says while stroking your cheek. "I'm amazing."

"You're trouble," you correct breathlessly.

She rolls her eyes at your choice of words and then glances downwards. You follow her gaze just in time to see her raise herself off your spent member, allowing several thick strands of cum to dribble from her cunt and onto your leg. You both share a brief laugh at how filthy it looks before Yeji clambers off you and steps away, leaving you completely bare whilst she reaches down to retrieve her panties.

"No," you blurt out immediately. Your interjection catches her attention and she halts mid-motion, quirking an eyebrow curiously.

"No?"

"You can leave them."

She gives you a knowing look but acquiesces anyway, stepping aside and grabbing her dress instead. "Disgusting," she winks with a coy smirk.

[delespresso]

WINNER TAKES IT ALL ━━ Fiyero x fem!reader

author's note; my only knowledge of wicked is from the movie, so that's what this is based on lol. i unfortunately do not live in a place where we have broadway/west end things (very sad coz i love musicals deeply) ps; not proofread!

prompt; “If I beat you, you have to kiss me” “That’s- wait, what?”

summary; weekend games were normal in shiz, but fiyero has a different idea of a game when it comes to the girl who caught his eye

━━ ☄. *. ⋆

Fiyero Tigelaar was used to charming the pants or skirt of anyone. He had people eating out the palm of his hand before he even said a word.

Imagine the slap in the face he received when she didn't even bat an eye at him. If anything, she always seemed annoyed whenever he was even mentioned or within proximity.

So he did what any other person would do — he kept pestering her. He was quick to become a thorn in her side and constantly shadowing her and showing up wherever she went. It came to a point where she was sure he was trying to be her extra limb.

During the weekend games, where everyone at Shiz gathered either in the courtyard, gardens or open fields depending on the game they wanted to play, he was even more incessant.

"Have you no one else to annoy?" she questioned as he stood beside her while they were playing a game of croquet.

Fiyero was leaning on his mallet, letting it rest on the grass as he gave her his typical nonchalant smile.

"None as entertaining as you, I find it stimulating," he replied.

She glanced up at him, the look on her face showing clear annoyance. Why was he choosing her to annoy, of all people? She was just a girl trying to surf through her university life, get good grades and have a bit of healthy fun on the side.

Without a certain winkie prince ruffling her feathers every other second.

"Its unbecoming of a fine lady to frown every moment of the day," he quipped.

She huffed out a chuckle, walking over with her own mallet in hand. She shifted to aim properly, before giving a gentle nudge to the ball that ended up right through a wicket.

Fiyero let out a low whistle, as if he was so impressed.

"Not bad," he hummed.

"You know, your praise isn't very stimulating," she quipped.

That made him smirk, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. She regretted her comment immediately but she didn't back down either.

"I'm sure we can find something that works," he retorted.

"You make me want to hurl," she replied.

"Ouch," Fiyero pouted, putting a hand to his heart. "You wound me, darling."

She imitated his pout, before turning away with a roll of her eyes. It felt like every little movement she made was being tailed by him. Their game only got more intense as it went on. Even the other players were a little concerned at how competitive they were.

The constant back and forth jabs, the heckling in hopes the other would miss their shots. It was a never ending loop.

It was the last round by now. Fiyero knew he was on the brink of losing — he was too easily distracted by her earlier. Now she was about to take the last shot, and if she made it then she'd most definitely come on top.

Now that couldn't happen. Not on his watch.

He walked around the field, going over to her side as she lined up her shot. He waited, watching the way her forehead creased slightly as she focused, the subtle pout on her lips.

Oh, her lips.

Then he had a cheeky little idea. With a finger rubbing his chin, he leaned in slightly closer just before she'd hit the ball.

"If I beat you, you have to kiss me."

His whisper right by her ear had warm breath fanning her skin. That was enough to send a random, odd shiver down her spine. Then his words registered just as she took the shot.

"That's— wait, what?"

She was knocked way off balance to the point her ball went completely south from the wicket. Nowhere close to how her shots had been so perfect before this.

Her jaw fell slack as she looked at the ball. Especially the distance between it and the wicket.

"Well, seems to me you're beat, darling," Fiyero mused.

She was still completely stunned by the fact. Especially considering she was always good at croquet — it was practically her game for crying out loud. In comes this stupid little prince charming knocking her off her game with a simple bet that wasn't even agreed upon.

Fiyero found it all completely amusing. Especially how flustered she was by a few simple words. He was definitely taking note of it.

"So?" he hummed, his body tilting to the side to be closer to her.

She turned her head, her eyes narrowed in a glare as she looked up at him. She wanted to smack that smug, cheeky look off his face with her mallet.

"No," she said simply.

She left the mallet in the provided space, trudging off the field and away from him. Hopefully for a really long time. He called out for her, unable to help the laugh that left him as she practically ran away at the mere idea of kissing him.

"Adorable," he mused to himself.

If Fiyero's life mission was to pester her, hers was to avoid him. She'd managed it for two solid days now. In and out of classes at the speed of light, no more lingering in the library unless she desperately needed a certain book and certainly no more courtyard homework.

Even her roommate was getting concerned by her behaviour, but she shrugged it off as her not wanting to be outside in public.

At some point it got stifling though, so she left the dorms at night. It was quite late and she wanted to go on a walk. So she went out to the gardens, past curfew. It was only for a few minutes anyway — she didn't see any harm done.

Until of course, someone else was already there. In her favourite spot. Playing with a stray puppy.

She couldn't avoid him for that long, clearly. As she attempted an escape, Fiyero looked up — their eyes meeting. And then came his cheeky little smile again. She was suddenly glad it was dark out, so he couldn't see her fully.

“And what's a good girl like you doing loitering past curfew?”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, deciding to just go with it. She stepped a little closer — for the fresh air. Totally nothing to do with him.

“Can't sleep,” she shrugged, her arms folded as she looked down at the puppy.

Bending down, she reached her palms out. The little thing was quick to jump and put its paws on her hand, licking at her skin. A smile pulled on her lips as she entertained the puppy.

“You've been avoiding me.”

“You've been pestering me.”

Fiyero chuckled at her quick retort, shaking his head as he sat on the grass.

“Do you always have an answer for everything?” he questioned.

“Why do you think I read?” she quipped. “I understand the concept is foreign to you, seeing as you can't read.”

“Ah ah,” he clicked his tongue. “I can read perfectly well, princess. I simply choose not to tire my brain.”

“So you choose to tire your tongue by vexing me with every word that comes out of your smart mouth?”

He grinned — two days of nothing and now he was getting quite his fill of fun.

“You just called me smart,” he mused.

“Is that all you heard?” she scoffed.

“Selective hearing. I choose not to invite negativity and stress,” he shrugged with a cheeky smile.

The chuckle that left her was a welcomed one. He liked that, the way she laughed even if they were arguing.

“Why don't you like me?”

The question left him before he even thought about it. Then again, he wasn't really known for thinking, was he?

She paused from petting the puppy, turning her head to him instead. Her head tilted, before she moved to sit on the grass properly as well.

“I never really said that,” she said.

“You've implied it.”

“Oh, so you do pick up on context clues?”

He laughed then, unable to help the way her words amused him a little too much. He was always upbeat, sure, but she seemed to make him smile a little more than usual. Even now — their smiles were matching.

“I don't not like you,” she eventually corrected. “I just find my focus elsewhere.”

His brows raised as he leaned forward, his arms on his knees as he watched her. Not the way she was playing with the dog, or their surroundings. He was just looking at her face in the dim light.

“So you do like me?” he asked.

“I tolerate you.”

“Already an upgrade,” he hummed. “Just tolerate?”

“Don't push it,” she warned light-heartedly.

The sound of their chuckles were the only thing reverberating in the quiet garden, as well as the dog rolling around on the grass at her affections. They sat there for a long while, maybe an hour or so. Until eventually they both got up to get back to their dorms.

“You still owe me,” he said on their walk back.

Considering they'd both snuck out past curfew, they were rather casually strolling back to the dormitories. Her brows furrowed faintly as she looked up at him, still falling in step beside him.

“I beat you,” he reminded.

Her brows immediately relaxed as she shot him another look. Except this time it wasn't annoyed or exasperated, even if she tried. It was softer, maybe a little more amused.

He walked her to the stairs of her block, lingering for a moment. As she took a step upwards, she paused. Fiyero waited with a raised brow when she turned back.

Then she leaned down, planting a kiss on his cheek.

“Now we're even.”

Safe to say, Fiyero had sweet dreams that night onwards — especially when the daily pestering started to receive warm welcomes.

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[thornypucks]

name and number | caitlin clark | 22

synopsis she wears your favorite name and number

warnings cheating on co**er I guess but I think that's it

words 1048

notes part of my '22' shorts-series (aka I love too many women that wear the number 22)

The red jersey was your favorite - the way it contrasted with Caitlin's skin and hair, her name and number in bold white letters on the bright material. But the best part was seeing it on the floor next to your clothes. It was early in the morning; your alarm showed the numbers 5 and 43, and you groaned, annoyed, before you noticed the jersey on the ground. It covered your bra and part of the jeans you had worn yesterday.

She wasn't supposed to take the jersey anywhere, but she had basically dragged you out of the stadium the second the buzzer had gone off, establishing their win. Now her clothes were on your floor, and she was in your bed - not in her boyfriend's, in yours. She shifted behind you, and you could feel her warm, naked body press against yours. One of her big hands made its way over your abdomen, settling on your right ribcage, right beneath your naked chest. Her fingers started caressing the spot you knew was bruised without even looking at it. You pushed your back into her, enjoying the warmth while it lasted.

You must have fallen asleep again because when you woke up for the second time, the warmth had disappeared, and the sun had just made its way over the horizon, coloring the sky and your room in a familiar bright orange. The missing warmth was like a punch in the gut, the sting only lessened by the fact that the red jersey was still on your floor. You could clearly read the name and the number on it. Only then did the sounds coming from your kitchen register in your brain.

You thought about putting on the jersey for a second but changed your mind and put on a shirt and a pair of panties of your own before making your way to the kitchen. Your naked feet slapped against the wooden floor, and Caitlin turned around. The sight made you stop in your tracks. You don't think she had ever been in your kitchen, much less making eggs while also only wearing panties and one of your shirts. It was a little smaller on her than it was on you, but you knew it was one of her favorites. You had bought it at the Eras Tour while she had stood two feet behind you holding your drinks. And now she was wearing it in your kitchen while making eggs with a spatula in her hand.

Her smile turned shy as she took in your figure. You could basically feel her eyes wandering over your body. You don't really know what to do with yourself, so you stay where you are, awkwardly standing in the middle of your kitchen while one of the most successful basketball players in the world eyes you up from the other side of the room. Not weird at all.

Caitlin's smile goes from shy to amused as she puts down the spatula next to the stove. She crosses the room with four long strides and wraps her arm around your waist. "Good morning," she mumbles out quickly before burying her head in the crook of your neck, pressing a kiss onto the sensitive skin there. You're frozen for a few seconds before you slowly reciprocate the gesture, wrapping your arms around her broader shoulders.

"I'm confused," is apparently the first solid sentence your brain can form, making Caitlin chuckle against your skin before lifting her head so she can look at you. Mischief dances in her brown eyes, but there is something else today - something more serious, more solid.

"I didn't mean to confuse you with my pancakes," she answers honestly. "Quite the opposite actually." She takes one of your hands that had dropped down to her collar and pulls you into the kitchen.

"That doesn't make me any less confused, Cait. Quite the opposite actually," you quietly mock her words, half hoping she hears them, half hoping she doesn't. The look she gives you tells you that she did indeed hear your words, and that she's not very impressed by them. Before you can say anything else, Caitlin lifts you up in one fluid motion and sets you down on the kitchen counter, establishing her place between your legs. Her hands land on your thighs while her hips press into you.

"See, I wanted to make this romantic breakfast for you. And I wanted us to have a good time. And then I wanted to get all serious and get out my best apologetic look for being a bitch the past few months. And then I would have told you that I finally broke up with my boyfriend... well, ex-boyfriend, and that I've been waiting to be back in town for weeks. But you just had to ruin it, didn't you?"

Caitlin's smile is crooked, her hands are warm, and her eyes are more serious but at the same time softer than they have ever been. Your heart feels like it's going to jump out of your chest, right into her waiting hands. You slowly raise your hands to her neck, playing with the short pieces of hair that didn't quite make it into her ponytail. Cait's smile deepens as she recognizes one of your nervous habits.

"What does that mean?" You swallow the 'for us' - uncertain, insecure, scared. Before, rejection had been about her boyfriend. It had hurt, but it had been a reason that had nothing to do with you. It wasn't because you weren't enough. But it was like Caitlin could see, like she could see you coming apart at the seams. She wrapped her arm around you, holding you so no more pieces could shift out of place. She looked you in the eyes when she whispered, "It means I want you." Your heart soared. "It means I need you. Here, in my home, at my games, everywhere I go." She pressed a kiss right to the spot where your pulse was pushing too fast against your neck before whispering into the skin, "It means I want you wearing my name and number on your back."

[sukunasteeth]

Wrestle Me

Tokyo had reached record temperatures that day. The sun was roasting the city, every street was a mirage from the bending light of its shine. The weather recently had been sending everyone either inside or to the nearest water source.

Yuji had gone to the beach with Megumi and Nobara in a futile attempt to escape the heat that had Japan in the sweaty palm of its hand. They had offered you and Sukuna a spot on the railway car there, but you knew that Sukuna was too exhausted from his recent missions to do any sort of going out. Not to mention the draining effect of the heat stacked on top of that. You were in the mood to just enjoy each other's presence.

The two of you were sheltered away in the darkness of his bedroom, lying sprawled out across the floor in front of his small rotating fan. Sukuna and Yuji never turned the A/C on. Since they had moved into their own apartment, the brothers had become rather stingy when it came to the bills. The air didn't start up until the room felt like a sauna, and it turned off much too soon to give relief.

Sweat continued to drip down the both of your spines, but Sukuna didn't seem to mind it. He was enjoying the peace of his day off, dressed against the heat in nothing but his boxer briefs and a tank top. He had his head resting in the cushion of your lap, his eyes were transfixed on an old leather notebook that he had stolen from one of the professors a few days ago. It was in a language you hadn't taken at the academy yet, but Sukuna tells you it was early notes on jujutsu from the old world.

You had been scrolling through your phone, occasionally showing him something you found amusing or anything that reminded you of him. He only gave you a reaction to maybe 10% of the material, but it was fun to see him roll his eyes, or scoff and wave your phone away.

The longer you remained in the same spot,however, the sweatier you felt and the more frustrated with the heat. You tried not to squirm under Sukuna's head, remaining as still as possible as though he were a sleeping animal taking refuge on your lap. Boredom, however, eventually pulls the last straw that has you stirring.

An idea comes to mind.

Sukuna glances up at you, as though he expects you to show him something else on your phone, but instead his attention is caught by the mischievous glint you feel twinkling in your eye.

"Wrestle me." You beam at him.

It was somewhat of a joke.

Compared to your boyfriend, it was clear who would win in a pinning tournament between the two of you.

 Sukuna, who enjoys kickboxing in his spare time. Sukuna, who has never missed an opportunity for a fight in the decade that you've known him, who could dead-lift your torso with ease if he so desired.

Sukuna, who has never touched you with anything but heart wrenching gentleness.

His eyes widen at your command, the notebook he had previously found so interesting has been completely forgotten. He seems to catch the drift of your lack of entertainment, and quickly plays along. His surprise melts into an amused little smile.

"Oh yeah? Think you got a chance, kid?" He taunts, placing the book beside him. His attention now fully focused on you.

You snort, you were only a year younger than he was, but he loved to emphasize it when he could. Sukuna mistakes your noise as a scoff and cocks a daring brow at you.

You love when he’s in a playful mood.

"I could take you any day." You tease. Part of you is running for the hills inside, but another part is having fun with the big bad wolf. That was the constant state you were in with him. Sukuna didn't even have to try and he always had your heart racing.

Sukuna makes an impressed noise, "That, I'm well aware of. I don't know about in a fight, though."

You groan at his joke, shaking your head in disappointment, but Sukuna grabs onto your chin before you can get even one turn of your head out.

"Let's find out."  

~

Ten minutes later, you're drenched in twice the amount of sweat as you were before, but Sukuna has barely lost a drop. He's got you twisted like a pretzel beneath him, holding your limbs in just the right way so that you're completely incapacitated in his hands.

Your first mistake was thinking Sukuna knew how to play-fight. The only person he had been remotely close with in your childhood was his twin brother, and the two of them had often "wrestled", but it only ended when one of them had blood dripping out of their noses. You learned early on not to question it. Having two boys as your childhood best friends had you turning your gaze from a lot of things, in fact.

The only thing you questioned now, was how you were going to get out of your current predicament. You were sure Sukuna was having a blast practically hogtying you with his hands, and now he knew how easy it was to get you in this position. It was a double whammy that would surely effect you in the future. 

"Did you really think I'd go easy on you?" The weight of his chest presses into your back as he leans over you, sending hot breath over your neck. "How cute."

"Okay, okay! I give!" You whine, trying to wriggle out from beneath him. You had to admit that it was getting slightly painful, but Sukuna was well aware of your pressure points and where to stay away from. You still had one last trick up your sleeve, however.

Satisfied with your surrender, he nips at your ear with his teeth before he slides off of you and relinquishes his effortless grip. Before he can fully turn away, however, you're leaping onto his back like a monkey and tackling him into his mattress. It was a dirty tactic, but you had been wrestling your childhood best friend Yuji since the two of you were in elementary school, so you were no stranger to tricks of the trade. Especially the feign defeat card.

He blinks up at you. It was a difficult task to take Sukuna off guard, but you had accomplished it.

"Sucker." You playfully stick your tongue out at him, blowing a raspberry. Inside your chest, your heart is racing like a hummingbird’s wings. It’s almost like Sukuna knows this, because even though you’re the one on top of him, he’s still looking at you with an amused grin- unaffected by your change of position. 

"You have a higher pain tolerance than I thought you did." He notes, tilting his head to the side like he's considering something. "What can we do with that new information, I wonder?" 

It was another intimidation tactic. A good one. It had chills running down your spine. But, you weren’t going to let him win so easily this time. Suddenly, you were interested in how far you could push him, as well. 

"Come on 'Kuna," You chide, your nose is practically touching his- a rabbit pressing against the snout of a hungry wolf. "Can't take defeat, my love?"

"Oh doll," His voice is a husky drawl, rough hands slide their way from their resting places on your hips to slip under the hem of your shirt and brush the skin of your waist. You try to contain your shiver. "You're playing a very dangerous game."

One last wave of confidence sweeps through you as you lean down, just like he always did, to murmur lowly into his ear. "And you're losing."

That did it.

Sukuna grabs onto your waist so quickly, you barely have time to register it before he loops his leg around your knee and easily flips the two of you back to your original position. You're giggling beneath him as he gathers your face into his hands, pressing calloused fingers into your cheeks. You've gotten under his impenetrable skin. You didn't know it, but you always did.

No matter how strong a man is, he will always lose to the woman he loves.

Sukuna was slowly starting to accept that.

[moonstruckme]

hey mae! it’s been awhile since i’ve sent an ask but im always reading your work girl! i love how you write tbh. if you’re up to it do you think you could write something with poly marauders, where the reader has trouble eating and making themself eat due to poor appetite. my appetite really does come and go and ever since covid (maybe before) it’s like eating makes me feel revolted. sometimes i just don’t feel like eating bc of other things like depression, adhd, anxiety. i was just wondering if you could write something with the boys helping out the reader with finding out what sounds good, cooking, and eating if possible. sometimes having someone around to talk to and hang out with makes it so much easier to deal -🌶️

Hey Pepper, thank you sm! And thanks for being patient with me <3

cw: lack of appetite, mention of skipping meals

poly!marauders x gn!reader ♡ 1.1k words

The sun’s going down, the last dregs of its light spilling brilliant and golden over the book in your lap, and you can feel your boyfriends starting to get restless. Well, two of them. 

“If we’re missing half the ingredients,” Sirius says, trailing James into the kitchen, “it’s not going to be any good.” 

James only tsks. “Ye of little faith. That’s what improvisation is for.” He starts pulling things down from the cabinet. 

“You’re not even going to glance at the recipe?” 

“I don’t need to. I know the general vibe.” 

“Help!” Sirius calls towards the living room. “He’s gone off the rails. Remus, come fix it.” 

Remus turns around to look over the back of the sofa, his shoulder brushing yours as he does. He’s sitting right up against you despite the couch being empty, not that you mind. Remus is sort of like a cat that wants to be near you but not always to be pet. His touches are often like this, passive gestures like a hand on your head or his thigh pressed against yours. It works for you just fine; you can feel the affection bleeding into you from any point of contact. 

“Don’t you think we should just eat out?” Sirius asks, tilting his head and doing that thing with his eyes that you all pretend doesn’t work on you. 

Impressively, Remus keeps his face impassive. “I’m having leftover brussels sprouts,” he replies, “so it’s not really my concern. Anyway, James has a good history with not following recipes.” 

“Exactly,” James says, grinning at Sirius, who scowls. But then he fixes his gaze on Remus. “So why are you having that, Rem? Have what I’m making.” 

“Because they’re going to go bad, and I’m not hungry enough for a big meal.” The last part is said somewhat quieter, directed towards the living room as he turns back around and picks up his own book. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see James frown, but he glances at Sirius and they seem to collectively decide not to push it. Remus’ appetite isn’t much better than yours. He has his better days, but it’s not uncommon for him not to feel up to what your other boyfriends would consider a whole meal or to eat only chocolate until Sirius hounds him into something more substantial. 

James looks to you hopefully. “You’ll have some, won’t you sweetheart?” 

You wince, hating to let him down, and from the look on James’ face he clocks the guilt in your expression before even you get a chance to say, “I don’t think I’m really up to it tonight, either.” 

James deflates, but he’s clearly trying to put on a brave face. “That’s alright. I think I’ll just save it for another night, then.” 

“I’m sorry,” you say, setting your book facedown on the armrest and turning around to face him more fully. “You could still make it and just put leftovers in the freezer. Maybe I’ll have some tomorrow.” You wince again as soon as you say it. No promises, though.

The smile James gives you is comforting if not totally satisfied. “It’s okay. I’ll just make it another time, it’s not a problem.” 

You return his smile, close-lipped. Sirius is looking at you with narrowed eyes, arms crossed like he’s sizing you up. 

“What are you going to eat?” he asks. 

“Hm?” 

“What are you going to have instead?” You hesitate, and he tilts his head knowingly, a piece of hair slipping from behind his ear to drape over his shoulder. “You need to have something, especially since you didn’t have lunch.” 

From the kitchen, James looks at you. “You didn’t?” 

“I just…don’t feel like it.” It’s a feeble argument even to your own ears, and the look Sirius gives you says that he thinks so, too. 

“You can’t miss two meals,” he says obstinately. “Even Remus is having some brussels sprouts.”

You look to Remus to be offended at the even Remus comment, but he only shrugs. You’re on your own. 

“What sounds good?” he asks you. 

You try not to pout. “Nothing. Everything sounds gross.” 

“C’mon, baby.” Sirius leans against the countertop. “It doesn’t have to be strictly dinner food, yeah? Just anything that sounds like you’d be willing to eat it.” 

You think for a minute. Remus touches the back of his hand to your leg, knuckles soothing over the skin beside your knee. 

“I guess…ice cream sounds okay,” you say hesitantly. “But I know that’s not exactly nutritious…” 

“Would a milkshake be close enough?” James pipes up. 

You shrug. “I guess.” 

He grins. “I can do that for you, lovie. Just gimme a sec.” 

James is a loud cook. You go back to your book while cabinet doors slam and the blender whirs and there's a muffled “oh, shit” as something is undoubtedly dropped on the floor, but a minute later he’s bringing you a glass of something thick and chocolate-y looking. You smile at the added garnish of mint and a straw, reaching for it. 

“Thanks, Jamie.” 

He winks. “Anytime.” 

Remus is the only one courteous enough not to obviously watch while you take a sip, and you feel your eyebrows raise as you look up at James. 

“This is really good,” you say. He practically glows at the praise. “I didn’t even know we had chocolate ice cream.” 

Sirius barks a laugh, and James’ smile widens. 

“What?” you ask. 

“We don’t,” he admits. “Will it ruin your appetite if I tell you it’s not actually ice cream?” 

You shake your head, sucking at the straw. “I’m already drinking it, so.” 

James beams. He really is looking very proud of himself. “It’s a protein shake. A pretty balanced meal, actually.” 

“Oh, nice.” You grin at him, taking another hearty slurp mostly because you know it’ll please him. “It’s perfect, thank you.” 

“Gotta keep our sweetheart fed,” he says, bending down for a kiss. Sirius and Remus’ hums of approval nearly harmonize, and you and James share an elated look while they both do their best to pretend like it didn’t happen. 

“Can I try?” Remus asks, and you tilt the cup towards him in invitation. 

He wraps his lips around your straw, sipping hesitantly. He looks mildly impressed. 

“Could you make me one of those too?” 

From the look on James’ face, he’d be delighted to. “Course, love.” He plants a smacker on Remus’ cheek and nearly knocks Sirius over as he beelines for the kitchen. 

“This is just excellent,” Sirius gripes, but you see the satisfaction in his expression. “Now that you two have blown up his ego, I’ll have to eat something he makes too.” 

“Correct,” James says brightly. “And you should be so lucky.” 

[jyn-mother-fucking-andor]

Thinking a lot about the ending of Andor and my own little head canons.

Honestly, the more I sit with it the more I think that both things can be true in that Cassian loved Bix but also is at peace with how they left things. Of course he misses her. Of course he thinks about her. Of course he wonders what their life could have been. And yet, once she’s gone, he just seems so much lighter.

There’s no question that they loved each other deeply and that he was devastated when she left. How she left. But ultimately so much of their relationship was him “saving” her or trying to protect her from the empire, from her trauma, from herself. The poor man was exhausted and was desperately clinging to the idea of a life with her that he couldn’t see the life they actually had. How isolated they were together, even on Yavin 4. While I take some issue with the way Bix left him, the “I’ll wait for you” speech, and the pregnancy… I’m grateful that she took that step back. Sometimes the most profound act of love towards another person is to let them go. She loved Cassian but I think she was also honest with herself about what their relationship had become. That ultimately they were not in a space to be healthy together.

When we see Cassian about two years or so after she’s gone, he’s more relaxed than we’ve seen him in the entirety of when they were together. He has built a little life for himself, a community, a home on Yavin 4. Maybe isn’t exactly what he envisioned, but it’s the life he needs. Sure, he’s lonely but he also just seems to be at peace. When Vel tells him to reach out to Bix, he shrugs. He says maybe but it feels like he’s saying no. Why? Because he’s moved on! He’s finally feeling like he can let her go, that their story is over. I’m sure he still has love for her but it’s shifted into something else and he’s found peace with her on his own way.

Then Jyn comes along.

She’s so different from Bix and yet the love she feels and the heart she brings to the rebellion reawakens something in Cassian. Hope was fading away, then there she was, bringing it home. It knocks the wind out of him and you can see it in every look he gives her. He’s impressed and terrified and transfixed. She’s a walking hurricane and yet she’s his mirror. She’s the echo in his shadow. Jyn’s the partner he needs to make that last push against the rebellion. As Luthen said, they burn for a sunrise they’ll never see and it’s a beautiful thing that they can hold each other when the end does come.

In that final scene, we learn Bix’s fate and see that she also found a home and community as well. She gets to take solace in knowing that in making the choice for her and Cassian, she saved him in a way. She saved herself. She finally found her peace. I like to think she met someone and that they reignite something she felt was long gone or that she’d never have after Cassian. I hope she was able to move on too and that they help her raise her baby and that she feels seen and cared for and loved. Of course she’ll tell her child about their father and the legacy he left behind with the rebellion. But at the same time, I have no doubt that that child will grow up in a better world because Bix left.

Who knows, maybe if the Rogue One team had lived, maybe Cassian and Bix would have reconnected? Maybe. Maybe not. But I like to think that if they had, it would be as friends. Sure, their family wouldn’t be the most conventional and there would undoubtedly be some awkwardness in the beginning, but they’d find their way. They’d co-parent and I do honestly believe that Jyn and Bix would have a lot of respect for one another and would be great friends. Jyn would love that child like her own and would be a bad ass step mom.

All this to say, at its core, Rogue One and Andor (pretty much all of Star Wars for that matter) is all about hope. Hope through rebellion. Hope through friendship. Hope through love in all forms.

[priyajoyy]

devil wears Prada part 1

Dark!lottie Matthews x reader x dark!shauna shipman x dark!jackie taylor x dark!natalie scatorcio

Businesswomen/devil wears Prada au

Devil wears Prada with a bit of a twist and a toxic love polygon

This is only loosely inspired by devil wears Prada so not gonna be the same storyline or anything but similar vibes

Literally don’t ask about the job roles cause I’m lowkey making this company up as I go along and cba to work out the logistics of this fake ass company

Readers getting a magical promotion next part so she’s gonna actually get to interact with the girls I swear (even if its lowkey fleeting)

Warnings:

Dark characters, power imbalance, toxic workplace, mental health problems, fat shaming, beauty standards, ect (more in later parts)

Matthew’s tower was certainly an impressive building. One of the tallest in the city and home to your dream job. 

Ok maybe not your dream job. You didn’t really dream of working a front desk and fetching drinks for snooty big wigs who wouldn’t so much as learn your name. but it was the right path.

A year here, maybe even less, and you could get a job working anywhere you wanted. Maybe, just maybe, if you did well enough and didn’t completely hate it, you could continue at Mathews designs. With the right promotion of course.

It was terrifying really. Walking through the massive cold foyer. You felt like a tiny speck compared to the tall walls and wide room, and the walk to the other end of it felt like it took a million years. Each step your heeled feet took on the hard floors echoing around you.

An incredibly stylish looking woman greeted you when you finally reached the desk. In fact, all three of the young girls sat before you looked straight out of a fashion magazine.

Pretty, young and stick thin.

You’d tried to dress up for your interview. Youd worn one of your nicest formal dressed, though now it felt pretty frumpy looking. It was hard to wear something that seemed both appropriate, as well as up to the standards of the impressive company you were applying for. Especially given most of your work wear was plain and black, never needed to wear anything any more impressive.

You were also wearing your nicest heels, albeit they weren’t very worn in, and giving you blisters, having only ever left your wardrobe for a handful of weddings over the years. 

“Um hiya, I’m here for an interview with miss Ibarra?” you told the blonde girl nervously, who looked up at you with complete disinterest in response.

She stared at you for a moment, before tapping away at her keyboard, leaving you to stand there, anxiously fidgeting, unsure what to do.

“Yes, she’s upstairs on the 15th level” she finally responded, looking back up at you, “I’ll tap you in, the elevators are down there, shell be waiting for you”

You blinked at her, gathering all the information before quickly realising you must look stupid just standing there, “oh of course thank you! Um…what room am I-“

“she’ll be at the front desk of the 15th floor” the woman interrupted, looking back to her computer now, obviously done with the conversation. She taps something and the sliding doors to the right of the desks slide open for you.

You rush over to them, shooting her another ‘thank you’ as you hurry through them, eager to get upstairs and into the interview before you throw up from nerves.

You had only spoken to Miss Ibarra over the phone once, as well as a handful of emails. Marianna Ibarra was the head of so and so at the company. And, if you got the job, would likely be your immediate boss. 

She seemed quit intimidating, according to your google search and quick social media stalk (of which you did for most of the important people in the company that you were likely to be working with) you had found out she was 26, and freshly engaged. 

Most of the people you had googled from the company were quite young for their job roles. The CEO, Lottie Matthews was 27, though her young age made sense, given her father owned the company. 

The other however, were around the same ages, and all seemed to be quite close to the Matthews woman. A lot of them going to the same fancy universities 

and colleges you couldn’t even dream of attending.

There was Jackie taylor who had known the Mathews since childhood, having grown up in a lot of similar rich people circles. Then there was Shauna shipman, who had known Jackie for years, who was clearly who later introduced the pair, getting her a job working in the company.

Finally, there was Natalie scatorccio. The most unlikely of the 4. While Lottie and Jackie grew up in privilege and the three of them attended fancy universities. Natalie scatorcio, as far as you could find, grew up completely differently.

You were curious how she ended up where she was now. Of course, you don’t have to go to posh schools and have rich friends to end up with a nice job. But to do so, so young, being 27 like the others, well that was certainly impressive.

When you finally reached the 15th floor, you held your breath, greeted immediately by a beautiful noirette woman as the elevator doors opened.

“Miss y/l/n?” she asked straight away, not allowing you to so much as step out the elevator doors before she spoke up.

“Oh um, y-yes hi I’m y/n” you stuttered out, stepping forward to shake her hand as she offered you a polite smile, her face then quickly returning to one of neutrality.

“I’m Mariana Ibarra, you can call me Mari” she says simply, gesturing her hand towards one of the hallways after your hands separated, “if you’ll follow me, we can have a chat in my office and then I can give you a short tour”

You quickly follow after her, trying desperately to breath calmly and keep your cool. 

“Please…have a seat” the woman told you calmly, gesturing to one of the chairs opposite her own as she walked towards it. 

“As you know miss y/l/n, we’re down the last two candidates for the job position, you and another girl.” She started as you listened intently, picking at your nails under the desk, “I’m going to be honest with you, she’s far more experienced…”

Your heart dropped.

“However, I must say I think you might be a better…fit” she continued.

She must have sensed your confusion at her words, taking in your furrowed brows and heads slight tilt. You suppose you were happy she thought you were a better fit, but her words were confusing.

“Can I be honest with you miss y/l/n?” she asks.

“Yes of course…” you agree, somewhat hesitantly.

“The other candidate, she was lovely…she’s been working office jobs half her life and only had to stop at her previous job to help her husband recover from a hip replacement” Mari told you, “She’s got plenty of experience, hell she’s got more experience than half the girls that work here right now.”

“But you see, were a fashion company” she states simply, bluntly continuing, “and the other candidate…well she’s nearly 60 and can barely fit into any of the clothes we make, shed stand out like a sore thumb, she’s not the kind of woman we hire here…”

Your eyes widened at her words, not expecting her to be so blunt, and certainly not this rude about another applicant to your face.

“I don’t mean to be harsh but looks matter here” she speaks, not letting you have too long to think over her words, “you’re pretty and young, the higher ups would love you and while you’re not as experienced as Mrs smith, I think you’ll do well enough at the job”

You should probably be more alarmed by what she was telling you than you were if you truly thought it all through, but as you sat in the office you couldn’t stop a small smile come to your lips.

“Thank you?” you told her after a pause, though it came out more a question.

She ignored your words, choosing instead to give you a critical once over, making you blush at her grimace.

“However, I must be frank with you miss y/l/n, if I was to give you the position here at Matthews designs, you’d need to…dress the part so to speak” she told me, voice never wavering, “a pretty face is nice enough but we’re a fashion company, and those…clothes, they won’t cut it” 

You didn’t think your face could get any redder after she said that…

Despite your embarrassment, you nodded quickly, “of course, I’d be more than happy to dress however the company requires”

“good” the older woman responded finally with a quick smile, “well then I’d love to offer you the position”

You couldn’t stop thew wide smile from donning your face. You were sure she probably thought you looked ridiculous, getting so excited over a job as a glorified runner, but you simply couldn’t help it.

“Oh, thank you so much!” you said happily.

“Shall we?” she spoke, standing up from her desk and practically ignoring your words, walking towards the door and leaving you to rush after her.

this has not been proof read fair warning

Taglist:

@theoreticalfreak

[dearhargrove]

summary Sam's fighting a migraine and you do your best to take care of him.

word count 907

masterlist

You'd noticed pretty much the second you came home that something is off. The usual call of your name and smile on your boyfriend's handsome face is missing, instead he sends a strained smile your way when you come down the steps and into the library.

He's sitting in front of a book, an empty mug with a tea bag next to it. His hair is messy and he seemingly haphazardly pulled it into a ponytail, front pieces falling out and framing his face oh so prettily.

You dump your bag on the table to get your hands on him, noting the small flinch he makes at the noise of your purse on the wooden table.

“Hi, baby,” you smile, voice soft and quiet. He places his bookmark between the pages and closes the book, leaning back in the chair to tilt his head and look at you. You take note of the barely-there flush on his cheeks and his puffy eyes.

“Hey,” he mumbles back, voice rough as if he hadn't spoken yet today at all. You move to stand next to the chair, hip leaning against the back of it. “You look tired.”

He huffs at that in amusement and groans, “I feel it.”

A bit worried you gently undo his ponytail and card your fingers through his soft brown locks, nails just barely scratching at his scalp. He makes another grunt, though this time of relief, and closes his eyes, head resting back against your stomach.

“Flu?”

He makes a disagreeing noise but doesn't move to answer and instead gets lost in the sensation of your fingers in his hair, finally soothing the ache he's been feeling all day.

“Just not feeling good? Tell me so I can help.” He winces when you step to the side a bit, his head being moved at that too. A frown makes its way onto your face and you run your fingertips along his head to his temples, slightly pressing down.

He breathes out shakily, a breathy whine accommodating it.

And, oh. You know what it is now.

“Migraine?” He makes a sound that could be interpreted as a ‘yes’ and scrunches his eyes shut, chair squeaking as he shifts to hide face first in your stomach. His arms sling around your waist and his head rests just under your chest as he soaks up your warmth and touch.

“You gotta let me go so I can get you some painkillers, love.” He doesn't seem to agree and tightens his hold on you.

Opposite of when you first met him years ago, Sam is usually quite clingy. He always has a hand on you or is standing close by and especially at night he gets clingy. Meaning arms always around your waist, spooning you with his nose buried in your hair or you on his chest while he provides (heavenly) back scratches.

Meaning it didn't fully surprise you that he refuses to even let you go for a moment to get painkillers for him. Nevertheless, you can't stand to see him in pain like this — especially since he's convinced a migraine doesn't count as something serious and will push past it.

You look down at him, only seeing the top of his head and his muscled back, thin cotton shirt accentuating the beautiful dips and contours of it.

You keep one hand in his hair and put the other on his back, grazing your fingers along the muscle for your own pure enjoyment.

He hums at the added sensation and his back arches the tiniest bit, though enough to send you into a small psychosis caused by the pure adoration you held for this man.

“Sam.”

At your more or less stern tone he huffs and pulls back. “What?” His voice sounds nasal which just gives you the impression that he has a flu mixing with his migraine.

Sighing pitifully you lean in and kiss his forehead, “Did you take any painkillers yet?”

He avoids your eyes, making you let out another sigh. “Alright. Let me get you some and then we can go watch a movie and cozy up in bed.”

[fishnapple]

FUTURE SPOUSE : WHAT YOU LOVE ABOUT THEM

(can also apply to long-term committed partner)

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐

About me | Masterpost

Book a reading with me - KO-FI (→ personal reading)

1. Carnelian

The Carnelian stone, which represents this group, looks like a heart with The Moon stone right above it, open, its dark side is exposed, making the impression of a heart broadcasting something. I can see that this person has an open heart. They put their vulnerability on an open platter for you to see. They had been hurt in the past, their heart is full of scars, but they don't hide it. It takes great bravery to do that, and you will love them for it.

They know how to move on from past hurt, from pains, especially in relationships. They didn't become pessimistic because of it. They have learnt the lessons and are ready to do better in the future. You won't see bitterness in them, they're probably the kind that don't talk bad about their ex, even if that ex had hurt them badly. This trait will also be clearly felt when you two have arguments or in conflicts. They may be angry, you may shout at each other, but they will cool down and think rationally about the problem and ready to solve it together with you, no passive-aggressive actions. After that, they won't bring it up again in the future just to make you feel bad.

Part of the reason why they can bravely face the conflict and move on is because they can detach their mind from the conflict, able to see it from many viewpoints. They are fully aware of their emotions, but they don't let them run amok and cloud their mind. They give equal respect to both emotion and rationality. At times, they can even appear a little cold or detached, too logical, but you will still admire that about them or even find it attractive.

They could have a very unique beauty or what is considered classic beauty but put a creative spin to it. The kind that stands out, or at least in your eyes, you will always be able to find them in a crowd. Not exactly because it's so exceptional but because it shows individuality.

I don't think they are a conventional person, something about them is going against the grain of society. They are a free thinker, the way they think and speak is unique and beautiful. It's full of wisdom and maturity. You can learn a lot from them. Their advice is kind and considerate and you will feel their love through it.

Above all, you love their compassion for life. They are a humble person, despite their talents and wisdom, they don't go around lecturing and ordering people. They understand that everyone has their own problems and fears, so even in conflict, they won't go out of their way to demolish the other person. They have the mindset of 'Live and let live'.

Being with them will make you feel peaceful, understood, and free. At times, it will feel like a gentle breeze blowing through your hair in the middle of a field, at other times, it will feel like sinking yourself into the tub, warm water washing away all of your fatigue.

2. Tiger's eye

I get a feel that this person spoils you a lot. They would try to fulfil your every wish, as long as it's in their ability. It could be buying you gifts, cooking your favourite dishes, helping around the house etc. They just know how to make you feel safe and satisfied.

They are generous and dependable. A part of them is very adventurous while another part of them is more traditional and liking structure. This traditional part is likely shown only in close relationships. You can feel that they treat you more specially, more preciously, they put serious intention into the relationship with you.

They could be a little clingy? wanting to be with you at every moment, somehow the old song 'I don't want to miss a thing' by Aerosmith comes to mind. You may complain about it sometimes but I think secretly, you do enjoy that kind of behaviour. It shows loyalty.

They would like to take the more dominant role in the relationship, wanting to lead and plan ahead for both of you. If you are someone more on the passive side, this will make you more at ease. Beware of the tendency for 'laziness' and 'dependency' though, since they take on the more active role and like to do things more.

The way they talk, it's smooth and has a sway to it. They could give you lots of compliments, not the shallow, generic kind but the kind that unique only to you, makes you feel that they pay attention to every small detail about you. They sure know how to flatter your ego a bit and make you feel more confident in yourself.

Whatever darkness is hiding in your closet, they will pull it out for you, gently, persuasively, do a spring cleaning and give you a better perspective on those issues. You may feel resistant at first, but gradually, with time, you will come to appreciate their doing this for you. They could buy you a house but they'd rather help you build your own house.

Another thing you love about them is their passion, it's spontaneous and out of the blue, like electricity. Things are planned in such an unplanned way that you will be surprised every time. Being with them will feel safe but never boring.

You guys may also communicate a lot through dreams or other psychic means. The connection has a strong spiritual side to it. You and them both intuitively know what the other person is thinking without many words spoken. It's a silent understanding, a link between two spirits.

3. Aventurine

I get a sense of candidness from this person. They have a style of expression that is both soft, childlike yet wise and mature at the same time.

They have a dry or wacky sense of humour that you love. It touches other's insecurities in such an odd way that make others feel at ease and safe with them. For example, you guys have to go somewhere dark but you have a fear of the darkness, instead of making fun of you for it, they will act all scared and jumpy and insist on holding your hand to calm them down, even if they don't actually scare of the dark. They can make fun of themselves and bring themselves down a bit to elevate the other person. You would have your fears gradually banished by being with them. They help you to be more courageous.

Even though they act like that, they don't seem to be someone that people can mess with. Maybe they have a very intimidating air about them. The way they deliver the jokes could be very deadpan. But it will make you laugh and make you feel protected.

This person doesn't have a big ego. They're self confident, as in being sure of themselves and that's for them is enough, they don't feel the need to go around imposing their will on other people, advertising their brilliance to get praise. In fact, this person is very down-to-earth, praise actually come naturally to them. Because of their sureness in themselves, they know where they stand in a relationship, what they want from a relationship, where the relationship is going, so they are decisive. They will tell you straightforwardly how they feel and what they want for the relationship. If there's a problem in the relationship, they will address it clearly to you and expect both of you to solve it together. You will love them for their honesty and their way of approaching everything.

They could be the best hugger. You love being hugged by them. Something feels soft and warm, yet sturdy. They may not be a big person but their energy is big. Even if their physique is smaller than you, hugging them will feel like hugging a big tree or a big teddy bear.

They are also very giving. They will share their time, their resources with you without second thought, or for some hidden motives. There could be a boundary issue though, you may sometimes feel that you guys have fused with each other, the boundary of what is yours, and what is theirs will be blurred. Maybe you're someone who likes to be one with your partner, then you could find this to be of no issue.

4. Clear quartz

This person seems like someone who is very good with words. They could be in the publishing, writing, or journalism. Or singing.

They are like a magician, there's magic in their work. They have an expansive inner world. When you get closer to them and take a peek inside their world, you will see its marvels, like a large reservoir, an inner creative power generator. They can translate that power into their works, works that can move many people. It comes with rigorous hard work, though. They are dedicated to whatever they're doing. They want perfection, mastery over it, whatever hard work is needed, they don't mind putting all in. That attitude is what makes dreams come true. And I think you can't help but fall in love with that.

They could seduce you with just words or their voice. The way they talk or sing can speak deep into your soul, pull out your hidden feeling. They could have a healing effect on you that you love. It makes you feel like being cocooned in a velvet blanket.

This person has a sensitive and intense soul. They don't love lightly. Once they are committed to someone, they will be there with that person through thick and thin, always preparing to face the storm together. You will love being loved by them. It's not a common experience. Love is not a common experience, of course. But being in love with them will have a depth that is hard to find with other people. They could make your past relationships feel pale in comparison. This person could show their love for you through physical touch and intimacy. It's when their love will find its rawest expression.

You will love them for for being a humanitarian. They care about the world, society, and people. What they're doing is not just a form of self-expression but also directed towards a bigger goal. They want to contribute to the greater good, to make changes and make people's life better. It may sound like some kind of lofty ideals, but actually they do believe in it. And their faith will be their power. You have fallen in love with a magician, so expect magic and miracles coming out of their hat.

[with-my-calamitous-love]

DON’T BRING ME TO TEARS WHEN I JUST DID MY MAKEUP SO NICE !

chuuya nakahara x f! reader

after a long and draining argument, chuuya makes it up to you in between your thighs.

smut! you are responsible for what you read 🪽

inspired by please please please

it was no ones fault, really.

it was one of those arguments that are really an amalgamation of many different things. that unwashed plate, his late nights and your early mornings, the way he brushes his teeth so god damn loud when you’re trying to read. it happens to every couple- not everything is sunshine, and you have to learn to love each other despite the things that may drive you crazy.

this should have been one of those nights. but it wasn’t.

you finally give out, surrendering your yells as the tears choke down your cheeks. he’s rescheduled this anniversary dinner about 6 times now, all due to his lucrative line of work. you were a okay at first, despite the nerve he had to make you call the restaurant almost all those times to cancel and reschedule.

“i feel like i don’t matter to you, chuuya.” you sigh in frustration, wiping away a tear. his eyebrows crease in shared annoyances, mostly towards himself for letting it get to this point. he’s tired, overworked by that jackass mori, and just wants to come home to you and feel your love. but he’s broken his promises, and knows he’s wronged you- despite how cocky he may be.

“i know, i know, i know, doll.” he groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. he hates seeing you cry, and hates knowing he’s the reason why. he hates that the dress you just bought is now wrinkled due to waiting around in the apartment for him, and that your perfect eyeliner and mascara are smudged because of your arguing.

he isn’t even sure why he argued back. he knows he’s a prick that hates being wrong, but he’s also a prick thats head over heels in love with you. he shouldn’t have pushed you to the side, especially on such an important day. his explanations remained the same, but his promises remained broken.

you eventually sigh in defeat, giving up and locking yourself in the bedroom. chuuya resigns to the couch, opening up a bottle of cabernet and filling his glass full. he tosses his hat and his coat aside, loosely undoes his bolo tie and unbuttons his shirts. if you weren’t sobbing over his asshole-like behaviour, you’d get to see his unreasonably toned abs peaking out from his shirt. messy orange hair hangs low from his shoulders, tired and missing you.

a few hours go by. chuuya’s had his fair share of alcohol, but he’s not intoxicated enough to miss the subtle click of the bedroom door unlocking.

he hesitantly walks over to the door, creaking it open to see you standing there. his eyes shamelessly roam your body, seeing how you’ve removed the dress and stripped down to just your panties.

“i was just gonna go to sleep.” you sigh. its not like he hasn’t seen every inch of you, anyway.

“wait.” he says, gently taking your hand and looking into your eyes. (impressive, considering you’re literally naked in front of him.)

you don’t say anything, but your fingers do interlock with his. it gives chuuya the green light to speak.

“…i’m sorry, doll. i shouldn’t have kept rescheduling and accepting you not to care. you do matter. it meant just as much to me as it did to you.” say what you will about chuuya, but he is a stand up guy. he’ll own up to it, especially if he knows its important to you.

you sigh, your lips curling into a small smile. its hard, damn near impossible to stay mad at him. “please don’t make me call the restaurant again, babe.”

chuuya chuckles, and you can see the remnants of the wine on his lips. he knows you’re only half joking, but he kisses your forehead in reassurance. “no, i have something different in mind.”

✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚

chuuya eats pussy like he’s starved.

he drags you to the end of the bed, getting on his knees and places kisses on your innermost corners until your sobbing, begging for him to kiss you. he’ll use his thumbs to spread you open, just admiring the way he gets your fluids dripping down. he’ll spit on your pussy, seeing how it runs down your already gushing core before he finally goes in.

slowly, he’ll sink down between your trembling thighs, his tongue darting out to take that first tantalizing lick. you arch your back at just that light contact, knowing you’ll be in for a long night. his hands grab your hips, blessedly holding you in place while he lavishes your pussy.

“your pussy is so pretty, baby.” he moans against you, closing his eyes and loving how warm and soft you are. he savours this taste likes its the last he’ll ever have. as intimate as the moment is, you both know he’ll fuck his cock into you filthy and fast later- better to enjoy the soft stuff now.

“je pourrais rester ici pendant des heures.” he groans with you, the vibrations sending waves of warm pleasure through your body. it starts from your teary eyes, than to your sensitive breasts, down to your stomach and the finally reaching chuuya in between your thighs. every now and then his eyes will open, looking up to see your flushed pink face, but he doesn’t dare remove his mouth. not until your soaking wet for him.

“chuuya! oh, fuck, please!” you whine, grabbing fistfuls of silky orange hair. he chuckles almost cruely, knowing that he’s not stopping any time soon. he does this just as much for him as he does for you, if not more. he loves the way you moan his name, how your pussy tastes. it makes his cock fill out knowing that he’s the only guy that gets to taste it.

“please what doll? want me to stop?” he asks, already knowing what the answer is. he teases you by slowing down his tongue, only touching your pulsing heat with just the tip of it. you almost cry, begging him to keep going.

“bonne fille, tu as tellement bon goût.” he praises you, wrapping his wine-stained lips around your clit and sucking in a way that gets you sobbing from the pleasure. you want to wrap your thighs around his head, pushing him deeper, but he keeps your legs nice and spread for him. “just like that, doll. god, you’re so pretty like this. can’t wait to fuck you so good later.”

you can feel yourself unraveling, and chuuya knows it. his tongue, lips and teeth move in a messy pattern, making your toes curl deliciously. you’re so close, almost seeing white as you approach your high. he does everything to make it as intense as possible, ending it off with one long stroke from bottom to the tip of your clit.

you wail when you cum, chuuya’s thumb rubbing your clit in circles guiding you through the orgasm. your chest heaves as he moves up higher, placing a kiss on your neck. “don’t worry baby, i’ll make you squirt tonight. just relax.”

safe to say that if chuuya was gonna make you cry, he should do it like this instead.

[kxsagi]

Sae headcanon: This man's to-go breakfast when he's in Spain is this: https://cakewhiz.com/easy-yogurt-parfait-recipe/ Not only is it easy yo make, he can also customize it however he wants.

“𝐲𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞𝐬"

a/n: BRO YOGURT PARFAITS ARE LIFE

i totally agree with this headcanon, but really think at the end of the day that sae just customizes his as the normal yogurt parfait since he’s so boring like that

kinda just wrote this one out but i am not too sure what reader is to sae, they definitely know each other/are best friends, but you’re staying at his house because your apartment is getting repainted. leaving it up to interpretation! 

(don't know art credits sorry)

you wake up to the sound of the window cracking open. 

the madrid sun is nosy, peeking in without an invitation, but sae’s already moving around the kitchen in that slow, deliberate way he does when he thinks no one’s watching. you squint from the couch bed, technically a temporary setup while your apartment gets painted, but mostly an excuse to sprawl near sae’s outrageously nice kitchen. 

he doesn’t notice you’re awake. or maybe he does and is pretending. hard to tell with him. 

he’s in a plain white tee and gray sweats, focus sharp like he’s about to perform surgery. but really, he’s just making… yogurt? 

you blink. yep. yogurt. with fruit. and granola from a jar that looks like it came with its own adobe light filter. 

you watch him scoop greek yogurt into a glass like it’s a science experiment. strawberries next. then blueberries. and the granola gets this dramatic slow-motion sprinkle like he’s in a cereal commercial. 

“is that breakfast or performance art?” you finally mumble, voice hoarse. 

he doesn’t even flinch. “you’re up.” 

“and you’re… parfaiting.” 

he slides the spoon into the glass and leans against the counter, taking a bite like he’s got all the time in the world. “do you want some or are you just going to narrate my meal?” 

you sit up, blanket falling off your shoulder. “depends. is that the good granola or the weird one you got by accident?” 

he sighs, the way he does when he’s pretending to be annoyed but is actually entertained. “i threw the weird one out. this has chocolate chunks.” 

you blink again, dramatically. “sae itoshi? sharing chocolate chunk granola? are we in an alternate timeline?” 

he grabs another glass from the cabinet. 

you shuffle over, still wrapped in the blanket like a cocoon, and plop onto one of the bar stools. “you know, most guys would make pancakes to impress their guest.” 

“i’m not most guys,” he says, not missing a beat. 

“you’re not even a pancake guy,” you mutter as he layers yours. “you’re a yogurt snob. a parfait elitist.” 

he raises an eyebrow as he spoons in the final layer. “say one more word and i’ll give you the off-brand berries.” 

you gasp. “you wouldn’t.” 

“watch me.” 

but instead of following through on his threat, he slides the glass over to you. perfect layers. strawberries on top. it looks like something you’d pay €14 for at a café with mediocre wifi. 

you try a bite. 

it’s annoyingly good. 

“i hate how this actually slaps,” you grumble, and he smirks into his glass like he already knew. 

you eat in silence for a while, just the sound of spoons clinking and birds gossiping outside the window. 

then you glance over. “hey.” 

he hums, not looking up. 

“next time you make this,” you say around a spoonful, “can you add honey?” 

he finally looks at you. “do you want me to ruin it?” 

“it’s not ruining, it’s flavor layering.” 

sae rolls his eyes, but he’s already calculating how much honey to drizzle next time. you can tell. 

you take another bite and smile at him, your parfait prince, yogurt snob of madrid, quietly sweet in his own way. 

you think you might like mornings like this. 

and maybe, just maybe, he does, too. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[monkebearness]

Just Give It To Me

Park Sieun (STAYC) x Male Reader

Tags: smut, (light) fluff, rough sex, oral sex, creampie, (some) degradation, daddy kink

Word count: 7.8k

a/n: my first non-tripleS fic, since I'm still sorting out my next plan there. for now, I wrote a fic about one of my fave 4th gen groups. it's also their comeback. it's a little quicker, but that's the intention. still, I hope you like this one!

“Hanjae-ssi, we’re having a meeting tonight. I’ll send the details to your number.”

“Ne, Miss Vice President. Should I notify the executives? Or a specific team?”

“No,” she tells him. “I’ll deal with them. Just—” The woman looks at him with a blank expression, from head to toe. “Dress up in something else.”

“Ne,” he bows to her, just before she dismisses him as the clock strikes lunch break.

Lim Hanjae has been Park Sieun’s assistant as soon as the latter rose to the ranks of the Nopeun Corporation’s upper management as its vice president, but they knew each other when Sieun was still a branch manager and Hanjae was a junior supervisor about four years ago.

He’s only a year younger, but respect and consistency are the most he has shown to this woman from the moment he was assigned to be her right hand through a vote between executives. Or so most would think.

At first glance, no one would expect the woman to be the older one. Not simply because of their height difference of fourteen centimeters, the difference between her soft yet empowering high pitched voice and his amiable baritone voice, or the difference between her ethereal and stunning neanimorphic visuals and his “above average” but mature appearance, at least with how some folks would compare them behind their backs, even though that’s an obsolete stereotype.

But with how they treat each other at work, most of employees’ preconceived notions and initial impressions slowly blur, where they begin to question some things about them Either the office drama becomes more stale and repetitive or a lot more interesting, allowing for more doors of far spicier and scandalous speculations.

Or from a more personal note, concerns also arise towards their workplace relations, especially from his own closest colleagues and friends.

“You’re not getting in trouble, are you?” Eunkyung asks him on the left seat beside him, gripping both his hands on their table.

“I don’t know…” he shrugs at her worry. “I hope not. I don't think anyone else is either.”

“You can just quit, you know?” his other friend, Mark, chimes in on his right after taking a sip of his matcha latte.

He scoffs at his overkill suggestion, letting go of Eunkyung’s hands. “Why would I quit? I'm not getting abused, and if I was, I would've reported her to H.R. a long time ago.”

“As if doing that will do anything to the chairman’s daughter!” the woman whines.

He shakes his head. “Whatever you guys are thinking, I’m doing better than y’all think.”

“You seem to be exhausted whenever you have a meeting with her.” Eunkyung sighs. “It’s just… Sad to see.”

“Oh… That?” He can’t spill away too much. “I just forgot to get myself a hot cup of tea. Plus, I was finalizing some team projects back then. It’s not as bad as things are now.”

“That’s exactly why we advise you to rethink your life choices,” Eunkyung shoots back. “You’ve been doing nothing but great things for this company, like the rest of us… We can only hope your pay is much, much better with you as her main underling.”

“It definitely has gotten better,” Hanjae chuckles. “I assure you guys, I'll even treat y—”

“I don’t think we can be assured, now she made you do the worst thing a boss can order to an assistant,” Mark interjects, now echoing Eunkyung’s sentiments with his cadence. Meanwhile, the latter takes a sip of her americano in silence, expressing her agreement with Mark through a nod.

“And that is—?” He raises his eyebrow.

“She’s making you set up a meeting on Friday, which is today!” he opens his palms out of bewilderment. “We’re usually free today, now that our biggest meetings have been sorted out, but out of the sudden, they pulled you in for another one.”

“Come on, I’ll be fine, guys!” he insists, hoping they calm down for the last time, despite being uncertain himself. “I promise, nothing’s going on… It’ll probably just be another brainstorming sesh with some other clients. Or some deets they wanna add up from last time.”

= = =

Eight eighteen in the evening. Hanjae looks out the window in front of their table. The city skyline stands out against the darkness with its assortment of lights from all the buildings in sight. He sees his boss’ reflection on his left, still looking at her menu.

They're at a fine dining restaurant, in a hotel two cities away from Seoul. They are both wearing their business jackets, wearing the fanciest suits they can get (at least for him), yet no other face from their company is in sight. Not even a new client. Confusion only runs through his brain, but he still doesn't dare to question his boss, considering she’s still occupied with telling her orders to the waiter. Until she's done, he raises his menu over his face, scanning the area and analyzing his superior through a few quick glances.

Her hair doesn’t look as formal as before, with how it’s tied up in a stylish bun. And of course, he knows that her dyed red hair is already a sign that she’s taking advantage of the loopholes of their company guidelines to the fullest. It's her third dye, after all. Thank goodness, their higher ups have gone lenient.

Not to mention her association with the chairman often intimidated him. It still does, but he does a better job at hiding it whenever she’s with him. The situation still bugs him, because of the absence of other clients or colleagues, and as soon as they are finished with ordering, he clears his throat and musters up the will to ask his boss, but not before taking a glug of his glass of water.

Her eyes move upwards, landing at him. “What is it, Hanjae? Spit it out.”

Under the table, he clenches his fist for a second, just as he opens his mouth. “Umm yes… Pardon me, ma’am, but… I thought there’d be other people with us tonight.”

She raises her eyebrow. “I said I’d deal with them. I didn’t say they’ll be here.”

Is this where he thinks this is? It can’t be. Is she messing with him?

“Oh… I understand. Joesonghamnida.”

Where this is heading. He still doesn’t want to fall for it. Getting the wrong impression.

Semantics and technicalities from his own superior always get to him. And he’s got the highest grades in both Korean and English in his classes. Since he got promoted as an assistant, Hanjae has flown to a few countries with their company, demonstrating his adeptness and expertise in both languages. He would often remember their time in the United Kingdom five months ago, where he listened to his boss speaking in her British accent. Most of the time, he would find her fluency in foreign languages awe-inspiring, whether it’s something like Spanish or Chinese. And sometimes, he can’t help but hold in his laughter because of how cute and ‘posh’ she sounds when conversing with clients.

Yet, whenever no one’s around, he’d feel something else. Hanjae hasn’t heard someone speak fluently in French like she does. Who knew that the simplest phrases like Si c'est moi in a certain passionate tone can make his hair stand up even under his sleeves?

Over an hour has passed. The weird thing was there was nothing to talk about. Nothing about work. No project updates. They just ate and drank, like an old couple, something that makes it much stranger since even in meetings only between the two of them, she would usually ask him about an update or suggestions about an ongoing project. Since there’s nothing to discuss about, they could only hear each other’s chewing and others’ chatter. Like usual, Sieun had a light meal, so her assistant also ordered a similar meal. Now, all that’s left are splatters of leftover truffle sauce and strands of pasta on Hanjae’s plate, while there’s no more trace of the chicken fricassée on Sieun’s, save for a splash of the brown stew. Each of them has a champagne glass, which both of them have emptied.

“You done with your dessert?” she asks him.

Without making his panic obvious, the man places the spoon on the now empty cup that used to contain the affogato. “Ne. I'm done, Ma’am.”

“You can wrap things up now.”

Hanjae calls the nearest waiter within their distance. “We'll take the bill, please.”

He feels something soft touch the hem of his pants, slowly sliding up to his crotch. It's her toes, tickling his member.

“Miss Park!” he almost hollers, his voice radiating with a hint of panic and caution, but not enough to stir any attention from anyone else around them.

Her face remains stoic. “Stand up,” she commands him, now that it has followed her. “Follow me after this… We're not done.”

With her card, Sieun pays for their orders, stealing gazes at her assistant throughout the process until they leave the restaurant to take a walk to the nearest elevator. Hanjae can only scratch his head behind her back, still bewildered on figuring out what their deal is, being in his hotel that’s miles away from home without anyone else to meet. As soon as they reach the highest floor of the hotel, he realizes they’re in the penthouse. She locks the door shut, allowing him to follow her to the living room.

She walks up to the coat rack stand, taking off her trench coat while he watches in silence, still clasping his hands together. “I don’t think you’re this dense, Hanjae.”

“What do you mean, Ma’am?”

“Was I not obvious enough at the restaurant?” She steals a glance at his nether regions. “Your thing down there seems to know already.”

He involuntarily gulps. “So… Tonight. This was never meant to be a meeting for clients.”

She’s right. How is he this dense?

“Now, do you know what to do?” Sieun hums. She tilts her head to the right, letting out a soft and teasing purr. He clears his throat, taking three quick steps to reach her. Without any signs of hesitation, the man cups her chin and leans down to devour her lips with his own. Their tongues collide, giving each other a taste of their drink and dinner the longer they dance. His lips proceed to trail down to her neck and collarbone, leaving traces of his saliva on every path he traverses, while she moans at the sensation he’s giving her.

Taking their time, they unbutton and strip each other’s clothes. Hanjae never wanted to rush this moment. The bliss, thrill, and excitement running through his veins. It’s like a drug, even, but he doesn’t want to find it out. This woman is enough to make him high. From her lips and tongue to the scent of her primrose perfume throughout her body.

“You know how long I've waited for this?” he murmurs into the kiss. It’s been more than a couple of weeks since they last did it, but he has never brought it up to her—even when they’re alone at the office. It’s a simple unspoken rule that benefits both of them. No one wants a scandal—and no one wants to get fired from work due to their afterwork affairs, which is and should be no one else’s business.

“I know you liked to be teased,” she snickers, leaving a few loving kisses on his neck.

He pinches both her butt cheeks, triggering a moan of surprise and pleasure from her mouth. “You mean, you like teasing me?” he argues, trying to get a lick of her clavicle.

“Same same,” she shoots back, before pulling him back to her lips with a hum of hunger.

As soon as their hands begin exploring their curves and corners, it’s all hands on each other’s decks. Just as he has gotten through her blouse and slacks and her unbuttoning his sleeves, his eyes widen as his member erects at the sight of her look.

A revealing top, a tight and short skirt in fishnets. The effort she’s made to keep it in while she maintained her domineering front and formalities around him for hours. Hanjae’s lust-driven mind expected her in her bra and underwear to welcome his hungry gaze, but this… He also admits this is a better way of teasing. “You’ve been hiding that all this time?” he chuckles in disbelief.

“It’s meant to be a surprise,” she admits, rubbing her right and over her left. Throughout their sexcapades, they've witnessed each other in different get-ups and attires. Although nothing too kinky yet, this is a first for Sieun to conceal her clothes under another layer, instead of changing right before the show like they used to do.

“It must’ve been hot under there,” Hanjae comes closer with a hint of concern.

“That’s the idea,” she retorts, exhaling a smile.

Their eyes lock. Just by her look, she has taken his breath away. “You look stunning.”

Her cheeks slowly blush. Still, she brushes off such a ‘soft’ reaction to his compliment. There’s an urge from her to thank Hanjae, but she seeks to repay him through actions instead. She’s had enough of words all week. “You better make it worth it.”

Truth be told, she tends to “switch” from meetup to meetup, which doesn’t bother him. In fact, it drives him crazier the more he realizes he was able to have a sense of control over Sieun, like she often allows him on nights like these, because the next time they meet and cross eyes in broad daylight, he knows that she’ll just be back to being the same old imperious superior everyone fears, respects, or both—sometimes fantasize. However, none of those folks are or will be as lucky as Lim Hanjae.

He pins her to the wall, initiating another steamy and salivating makeout session neither of them would ever want to stop. A couple of minutes passed, Hanjae’s lust for her body skyrocketed. Her plump and luscious lips are always insatiable, but foreplays like these have usually only been the appetizer. One that he always brings to their main courses. Still, he has to move forward with her. Disappointing her is the last thing he wants to happen, especially tonight.

She licks the sweat off his neck, tasting the traces of his perfume like a mint-flavored popsicle, before tiptoeing to lean next to his ear and whisper “Do what you want. It’s your reward.”

Shivers trickle through his spine as he feels her warm breath and softer intonation. The go-signal has been given. He directs her straight to the bedroom, still clinging onto her lips and tongue. The man only leaves her inches away from the bed as he proceeds on the cloud-like mattress. She follows and crawls towards him with anticipation, but he clings on to her forearm, stopping her in the middle.

“Nuh-uh,” he gestures with his finger from his other hand, which mirrors his shaking head, holding in his smile with some effort. He remembers their routine crystal clear.

“What?” she asks, flabbergasted as her momentum slows down at his disapproval, though her carnal need for his touch remains the same.

They're both eager to get down and get it on, but he wants to try something else just before they proceed to the main event. “Suck it,” he orders Sieun with a straight face.

Sieun kneels in front of him. Leaning forward, she gives his member a few licks, starting with the head and slowly descending to his length, now much more like a popsicle, until she reaches to his balls. Such tickles can’t help but make him giggle, even though he has always tried his best to hold himself in front of her. Unbeknownst to him, the lady finds a fascinating motivation in his reaction.

She maintains eye contact with her partner, smirking in satisfaction while her face still can. After mesmerizing at its lubed and slimy appearance, she widens her small mouth as much as she can and takes in his member, humming as it enters her slowly. The man helps her out the only way he can. Hanjae tugs at her hair bun with his right hand, while his left fingers claws down on the mattress. He starts doing limited thrusts with a slower rhythm—clenching his buttocks on the bed with every outward push towards her mouth.

Moans can be heard from the woman, keeping her mouth as wide as she can around the length and girth of his shaft. Despite his small thrusts, she starts her own movement by bobbing her head up and down, even giving him a sultry wink the more she accelerates.

“Oh, Fuck!” he whimpers, feeling the electrifying sensation through his spine. Driven by his wild instincts, his grip on her bun tightens, compelled to continue his thrusts on her deceitful mouth in the next minutes, even if his own back will punish him for it later on. Her efforts are more than enough, but he would have never expected her new trick. The lady takes her other hand down to his testicles, giving Hanjae another tickle. “Shit—you little minx!” Her tickles slowly turn into a grip, squishing it like stress balls in her palm.

“I'm about to—” he can’t stop himself from roaring loudly. “I’m gonna cum!”

He bursts his first load for the night, right into her gaping mouth. Despite swallowing most of his seed, the woman coughs out what was left in the minute that follows. They catch their breath together, making Hanjae approach Sieun with his hand on her back, slowly patting it by instinct. His character breaks for a second, showing his care as her assistant. They lock eyes. She feels those beats inside her. Slow, but louder. She thinks maybe that’s just because she’s exhausted after sucking him off. Who wouldn't be?

“Do you wanna take a breather first?” she asks him with a chuckle.

“No,” he pants with a smile. “I’m supposed to be the one asking you that question.”

She answers him with a ravenous kiss, leaving smiles on both their faces as they both taste his salty and sticky juice amidst the silence. Such a daring act from her switches him back to his so-called alter ego. Her tongue gives him a tease right while their lips part, knowing he would want more of that later on. “Glad we’re in agreement.”

“Bend over,” he commands almost immediately, deepening his tone with little effort.

She only nods with a submissive whimper, kneeling in the middle of the bed—with her elbows on support—in anticipation for his treatment. And as they’ve long been waiting for, the main show is finally going down with Sieun bending over and making an effort to peek at Hanjae and his erect cock between her legs. She bites her lip just seeing him upside down when he raises her tight skirt up to her waist and watches him strip down her underwear, which he tosses to the top of the bed, landing on the pillow next to her.

“Ah, ah…” he mocks, forcing her to look forward once more in a fit of both apprehension and anticipation. Nevertheless, her trick just hardens his shaft even more, solidifying his girth. “Who says you can look?”

That’s the thing. She likes, nay loves more that he is the dominant one in bed, ironically enough. And he’s been getting the hang of being a switch for a while now. Of course, no one does training for those at the office. Unless it’s with her during that one time.

In front of his eyes, Hanjae sees her entrance, and like a key to its hole, he plunges his knob into her cunt as if it’s the perfect shape. Thanks to her salivary lubrication, his penetration proves to be less jagged.

“Aaaaaah…” she moans, her walls welcoming the first half of his manhood. For a split second, she imagines his penis entering her asshole instead. Maybe for another time.

“Ngh… More…” she begs. “Put it more, babe. You’re already in… So deep… Ugh!”

He pulls himself and her, burying his cock even further while holding on to her hips. Deeper inside her womb. He didn’t stop until his tip could feel her cervix, a moment which signals him to start moving his hips in and out in larger and louder rhythms, undoubtedly stretching her insides with his stronger rams.

Her eyes widened at this ensuing sensation. She wasn’t too careful about her wish coming true in an instant, but she doesn’t regret it. Under his dominance, she couldn’t feel any luckier tonight. “Oh, fuck! Yes…”

While tightening his abs as if he’s planking and flexing his arms like he’s lifting, the man fastens his pace. With his eyes on the prize, he pulls her hair, finally taking advantage of the bun that’s been leveling with his eyes the moment they first met at the restaurant. “It’s begging to get pulled, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is,” she groans in agreement, with her nails on each finger clawing through the duvet cover in order to anchor herself while Hanjae keeps his right hand grip over her hair like the reins of a steed. “I fucking… Love this… Auuuugh!”

They go on for several more minutes, maintaining the rhythm of moving forward and backward as their layers of stimulation build up every second. Eventually, he lets go of Sieun's hair. The man has both hands held on to her hips, while he leans over her nape, kissing her from the back with sounds that mimic the slapping produced by their bodies.

The sight of her jiggling ass and the sound crashing through his ears now give him the idea, prompting him to widen and raise his right palm up in the air and smack!

“Oh, God!” she moans in ecstacy, slightly arching her back. “Yes!”

“I’m, uhh, getting… Close,” he grunts, quickly exhaling a blazing fume through his nose.

“I'm fucking safe!” she yells, feeling her own limit break while her body keeps trembling.

Hearing that is another green light for him to remember for the rest of these sessions. Hanjae groans as loud as a raging bull, fusing with Sieun’s squeals of satisfaction, as their ounces of fluids fire and collide within the bridge of their intermingled bodies.

Their first orgasm of the night. The first of many, the woman hopes within her mind. Neither of them expected to go straight to the point? For a month, they were deprived of each other's touch due to the surge of events that demanded their presence and service. Not to mention the fact that she hasn’t given him a call or hint until now. Hanjae’s far from feeling any anger, but he is not letting that slide.

Only two minutes have passed since their nethers have parted, but he taps her back a couple of times while she’s lying. Heeding his nonverbal command, she rises from her prone position to face him.

“We’re not done, Mistress.” His eyes grow at his own words, though he keeps his frown in front of the woman. Wrong word, his mind realizes. His subconscious must’ve taken over for a millisecond. A more submissive region. She won’t notice it, he follows up. She is too invested in this.

“Yes, daddy,” she nods without question, still looking at him with eyes that beg and give in. That word makes his head tilt with a low hum of perplexity, only to shake it off as the woman’s look and response alone is keeping him up and curious.

He takes another step, placing his hand underneath her chin. “You know what you did wrong, Sieun-ah?”

He hears a gulp from her throat. “No, daddy,” her tone dramatically shifts. “What is it?”

The term’s growing on him fast. He remembers her not wanting to be called babe or bebe, even though she’s called him the former a couple of times. Hanjae sighs, but he maintains his domineering act. “You've been too vulgar with me. You've been so bad.”

“Are you gonna punish me for that?” The trembling in her voice makes it convincing. How she responds almost freaks Hanjae out, but he knows what situation they're in. Plus, she leaves a trace of her coy smirk on the corner of her lips for him to notice.

“You’ll find out,” he answers, leaving Sieun with lust-driven wonder while he holds her.

He kisses her once again, although his hands make their way to her hair. Seeing her as a redhead has brought out the lust in him ever since she dyed into that color. Now that he has the chance, he yearns to see her in its undone beauty. He has fucked her in various hairstyles and colors in the past year and a half. Pig tails. Layered. Curls. Waves. Buns, like now. All of which made him excited when she made the first move or call in secret.

Black. Blond. Pink. He never had a preference with her looks, ‘cause that's her business. Light brown and orange were his two favorites, yet now’s giving him second thoughts. It seems that her color tonight gives him a new reaction. Him as the raging bull and her as the muleta or red cloth to his narrow vision. It's not just the color that gets to his nerves from head to toe. That's a common misconception, but even if it's only directed to bulls, he knows there’s more to Sieun that is driving his own lust to another level. It's also her bratty movement and juxtaposed behavior that’s provoking him, even outside the bed.

His tongue enters her mouth, recognizing the 4-million-won champagne they’ve drunk, encouraging him to dominate the woman even in this glossal duel. In-between kisses, he helps his partner take her top off and unlock her bra, while leaving several more hickeys on her neck down to her toned and perky breasts, now that she's completely bare as him.

Hanjae slowly takes the fishnets off Sieun’s legs, giving her a tingling sensation. Tossing them into the corner of the room, he leans forward to give the woman's knees and thighs pepper kisses. He opens his mouth, licking off the moisture that has accumulated on her legs in the past hour. Within seconds her groans slowly shift into giggles, that is until he moves deeper into her legs, opening them wide like he has split a mountain in half with his bare hands. He just discovered her core, dripping wet. Already a feast to his eyes.

But at the last second, he inches away from her entrance, bewildering Sieun as her excitement is interrupted. He stands up, leaving her lying on the bed in confusion.

“I think we're still forgetting something,” he rubs his chin with a soft smirk.

“Huh?” she wonders, and his movement is turning him on more than she anticipated.

“Sit,” he commands, even pointing down his finger on the surface of the mattress with eyes that taunt. The woman now realizes he is only messing with her, yet she complies without question. Hanjae’s in control tonight and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Sieun herself has been deprived of his authority for a while now. Something that she has rarely gotten from anyone else at the company ever since she had truly proved herself as a valuable and integral member of the Nopeun Corporation. She always hated the unfair treatment given to her by most employees and executives, just because of who she is and not what she can do. These secret and intimate moments she has with Hanjae are what she always yearns for.

The man gently pulls down her skirt with ease, leaving it on the carpet below the bed. With nothing else in his mind, he kisses her neck as he inserts his middle finger inside her entrance. And combined with his lips sucking on her collarbone, Sieun only groans at both simultaneous arousals. He follows up his ring finger inside her, triggering a key that makes her let out the higher pitched squeal he’s been craving to hear. He’s not as gentle compared to last time, she observes.

“Hnhh…” she groans, her eyes half closed. “Fuck, babe. I’ve missed this soooooo much!”

But as soon as her squirting begins, he stops. “Daddy…” she pleads. “Why’d you stop?”

“You’re ready…” he reassures her. He kneels down on her the levels of her nethers and kisses her cunt, not minding the fact that he just plowed her with his cock minutes ago.  It may be unhygienic, sure, but it’s his body and hers. Plus, It’s not the first time he has done this. Hearing more of Sieun’s moans above him, he continues by using his tongue to give her clit a long upward lick. “Ahhhh… You tease… So fucking… Good!”

Together with his fingers, his mouth works wonders, tasting the salty and sweet vulva of his superior while she sings her highest praise through her moans of stimulation—like a one-woman choir—in the next twenty minutes, keeping herself together—even from the temptations of closing in her thighs between his head. Even if there’s a chance he’ll like it, she knows that she’s not in full control tonight. And she’s loving this scenario so far.

Taking delight in every second of his tongue, Sieun’s climax is nearing its completion. “Hanjae-yah… Imma… Augghh…”

Hanjae only nods, allowing his movements to vibrate in a strange way that speeds up the peak of her pleasure. Little is he aware, he invented a new trick for her, considering the fact that he is now mimicking a certain toy she’s been using in her alone time. “Nggh!”

And with a final spurt of fluids, it’s his turn to receive her juices all over his face. Much like her, he savors every drop of it, getting it all over his chin and cheeks. Getting up to check on the panting woman, he shares his appetizer with her. Another kiss where they share each other’s fluids, intensifying their steaming session with hums and moans.

As their lips leave another trail of saliva, Hanjae carefully pulls Sieun closer to the bed until they both reach and sit on the upper middle. Without muttering a word, she goes along with his movement as he places her arms on his shoulders. They face each other during this one, still gasping for breath after his breathtaking performance.

“Hey… Just say the safe word, alright?” he advises her with a quick kiss on her lips.

As with her arms around his shoulders and holding on to his neck, Sieun wraps her legs around his waist with little effort, interrupting his instinct to have him be on top of her. However, he treasures this position too. It’s a classic. “I don’t need to,” she whispers.

Hanjae slides in his cock within her entrance for the second time. He enters Sieun with more ease, thanks to her leftover juices still coating his manhood. She’s due for a refill. Despite this improvement, her pussy still remains just as tight from before while he slowly pushes in his rod with more effort. The woman’s moans are less louder, maintaining her composure until his whole member is inside her.

“Just… Give it, Hanjae… Give your all… To me,” she reassured him for the final time. And so his movement of rocking back and forth recommences with a smoother pace.

“Harder!” she wails, exerting her power whenever her body demands it. Now, Hanjae increases his strength, while maintaining the rhythm of his thrusts with her grinds.

“All this... Time,” he breathes in. “How are you still so tight?” he exhales with laughter.

There's a lot of possible reasons. Yoga. Pilates. Modeling. Berating her lazy employees. Healthy diet and lifestyle. Just pretty damn good genes. But his imagination is already wild for him to guess. They're all of the above. He just wants to finish inside her soon, and more, if she allows him to do so.

“It's all… for you…” she whispers to him. “Babe…”

He nibbles on her breasts, alternating his feast with each thrust down his member.

As she gasps at his improvised trick, her breath starts to falter, preserving the remainder of her energy holding his shoulders. The shivers make her scream “I'm your toy, daddy!”

“Speak… up, brat,” he huffs, grunting while he pounds her cunt with double the power.

With every screech of arousal she yells out, her nail scratches and digs into his skin until it becomes red, almost like the woman's hair as it quakes along with her petite and curvy body during his stronger thrusts. Their ears begin to hear slight squeaking on the sturdy king-sized bed, but they're not too bothered. They've made it work on a couch, a swing, and a wooden bench. Hell, even on a monobloc chair.

“Only… You can play… with me… Daddy!” She sticks her tongue out to him.

“Such… a good girl,” he gives into her imagination, finding more arousal at her gimmick.

“I'm... close…” he murmurs while sucking on her neck.

Still with her tongue out, the woman's eyes slowly roll to the back of her head as her breathing sounds heavier while submitting to his continuous thrusts.

Hearing her whimpers, Hanjae’s thrusts slow down. “Me too…”

Fluids burst out her cunt; he releases his load a millisecond after. The last one from this set. Listening to each other’s breaths, as well as their advice from earlier, the pair finally take a breather in the next five minutes. He sprints straight to the kitchen to get two 500 milliliter bottles of water inside the fridge, handing out the second one to his partner as soon as he returns to the bedroom.

“Thanks,” Sieun takes hers, cranking it open. With closed eyes, she proceeds to glug down the bottle the same minute as him, but as she relishes the feeling of her thirst dwindling down, something clicks in her brain. Her eyes open. Her lips curve upwards, stopping her drink with the bottle now half empty.

“You thought I wouldn't have noticed, did you?” she teases with a lower pitch, although a part of Hanjae's mind and body perceives it as a threat for some reason, it even makes him let out a nervous chuckle.

“Noticed what?” he tries to play it cool, slowly wrapping his right hand around his left.

Placing the bottle on the nightstand, she takes two steps forward. With every step she takes, her smirk grows. A few speculations spring from his mind, but no guess can ease him after she's stopped a foot away from him. They both know that this is far from over.

“A while ago…” She tilts her head to the left, staring at him dead in his eyes. “You called me Mistress, not Princess. I thought that sounded strange.”

Caught.

Hanjae closes the empty bottle with its lid, carefully placing it on the floor. “Will I… Get punished for that?” he questions her. He remembers what she said. So did she.

Her fingers crawl to his balls, triggering the same tingles he felt, until it latches on to his shaft. “No,” she scoffs. “But you'll have to be tamed for being such an angry and hungry bull who just couldn't restrain himself.”

Sieun crashes her lips with Hanjae's with an excited moan, savoring each other for half a minute while she walks him back to the bed. Despite her petite arms, the woman pushes him onto the mattress, making him lie down on his back while she kneels closer beneath him. Soaked in each other’s sweat, his face can only glow in anticipation with her in the lead. That’s how this whole thing started, after all.

“It's about time I ride the beast,” she exhales with eyes of confidence and shamelessness. Hanjae can only nod at her fierce statement and seductive approach. His long dominant exterior begins to crumble at her gaze, feeling most of it transfer back to the woman. He couldn’t care less. He just wants her, here and now.

Sieun climbs and towers over Hanjae, placing her bottom on his thighs, near to his hips. Without hesitation, the determined woman aligns her entrance with his cock and inches herself until they touch. Slowly but surely, she begins grinding on him. “Fuck, I can’t get enough of this.”

“Same same,” Hanjae mutters, much to her amusement. Inching her legs a little closer, she increased her speed from low to a medium.

“C--can… I?” he exhales, unable to complete his sentence due to her still tightening cunt and his throbbing cock overwhelming his senses.

“Do it.” She leans down, knowing exactly what he means to ask. “Ugghh… Don’t—wait.”

Hanjae latches each of his hand on her breasts, inciting a holler of arousal from the woman, but he amplifies it by making semi-circular gestures on her tits, making her close her eyes. Seeking to please her even more, Hanjae surprises Sieun with a few slaps on her cheeks with his right hand, only now from the front.

Sieun’s eyes twitch, while also biting her lips in hopes of muffling her continuing groans. “Nnnnggggghhhh… You’re making me… closer, you naughty bull!”

Only letting out a chuckle, her squeals remind Hanjae of popular singers, Ariana Grande being the most memorable. At times, she might even sound like Bell—No, she's nothing like her, his mind grudges, converting his emotions into keeping up with the woman’s performance on top of his wang.

She leans down to him, puckering her lips to give him a kiss. Their tongues clash while their mouths keep them open wide, silencing his thoughts while she keeps on grinding. It's like she’s read his mind. From her waist, his hands travel to hers. She reciprocates, entangling their fingers. Both their hearts are beating in sync.

He looks at her eyes. God, she’s such a goddess, he breathes out with this thought. He may often believe that she’s too good for him, but at least he is doing her with his best serving her, making love with her. “I— Fuck, Sieun, I’m clo—”

“I am, too!” she moans into the kiss, grinding him with most of her might and stamina as they both hear their fluids starting to spurt once more.

With almost little to no effort, such a stimulation drives her to reach the highest ranges. In his mind, Sieun would’ve been a great, phenomenal artist. She did have experience in the past. She can still become one, if she wants to, but tonight, they’re each other’s great work of art. Arts in progress. They still have more time and more of their own respective essence to spare, and they would not stop grinding, savoring, and thrusting each other’s bodies until half, if not most, of the bedroom is coated, smeared with their warm seeds.

= = =

Through the casement window, the sunlight kisses Sieun’s skin, from her hands to her forehead. But, they don’t feel like his lips. She loves the feeling of the mattress, as if she was slowly and endlessly sinking on the foam, like relishing the comfort of heavens.

However, that only makes her groan in annoyance 'cause it's not as sturdy and tender as Hanjae's chest. It is the balance her body always remembers in their hours of snores and silence. She feels the warmth of the blanket covering her body, but it feels too narrow. She can only feel herself.

That's it! Her eyes open with a sense of annoyance and panic, realizing such an absence has been bothering her, now that her mind is up and running. Rising from her slumber in her undergarments, she sees Hanjae, specifically his bottom, on the other side of the bed. His skin appears a little dryer, and he's already wearing his boxer and undershirt.

He’s putting on his socks when he notices her. “Oh, you’re up. Good morning, ma’am,” he lowers his head slightly to bow. Relief washes over her.

She ignores his greeting, only feeling concerned about his actions. “What’s the rush?”

“Huh?” He stops putting on his pants, noticing the yearning from her eyes.

“It’s a Saturday,” she reminds him. Her lips slowly form a pout.

“Yeah… Well, that didn’t stop the company from having meetings from time to time.”

“There’s no work today, Hanjae-yah,” she reiterates. “I, uhh, even rescheduled the meeting meant for last night.”

“Oooooh…” His previous question is now answered. “So that’s what happened.”

“Yeah…” her eyes slowly roll to the side, pursing her lips, now that she's admitted that.

He can hear those rhythms in his chest. As she fixes her disheveled hair to the side of her ear, Sieun turns to him once again.

“Don’t you wanna stay for a bit?” she adds.

The rhythms would grow louder. “Sure…”

Staying with Park Sieun? He doesn’t want anything more, even if that's what he does every other day during weekdays. Right now, she feels more like Sieun, not VP Park. A situation like that rarely comes around in his life, so he may as well cherish it. But at the same time, another thought flashes a query he never dared to ask her, at least while they were still doing it.

He unravels his left sock. “Can I ask you about something?”

“Of course,” she chortles. “Don't need to be all formal with me.”

“About that kink last night…”

“Yeah?” she wonders. “Which one?”

He lets out a chuckle. Had to be more specific. “That, umm,” he pulls out his right sock. “Daddy kink.”

But instead of expecting a reciprocative chuckle to leave her mouth, it silently gapes with intrigue and a hint of confusion. “You didn’t like it?”

“No, I did…” his voice almost croaks. “ It’s just, is it not weird for you, or something?”

“No..?” With a slightly raised pitch, she’s not entirely sure where he’s going with this.

He can only sigh with relief… And of course, confusion. “Huh...”

Her eyes squint. She feels that he’s not too satisfied by her answer. “You don't like oppa. I had to come up with something else that I'm into.”

“That’s because you're older than me. That's just a matter of fact…” he counters, sounding defensive with his argument. “And it's not that I hate it, it's just we've already done that a lot before… You didn’t seem to like noona either.”

Silence enters their room in the following moment. Sieun reads his face a little more, tracing his question back to her own personal life.

“Is it because I’m close with my father?” That brings a ding sound to Hanjae’s ears.

Saying Park Sieun is a smart woman is one understatement. Of course, she'd guess that. “I’m sorry for… making it weird,” he looks down with a surge of embarrassment flowing through his mind.

“It’s okay.” Sieun places her hand above his own, giving it a slow and comforting stroke. “And no, it’s not because of that. I love my appa very much, but that’s different...”

He looks back at her, sensing his spirits elevating with hope. “That's… Good to know.”

“And it's not like I hated noona either,” she admits. “I just thought it was a little too… Romantic. And like what you said about my dad, I also have a younger brother.”

His spirits stop in thin air, awaiting its own descent with her words and his expectation. Of course, how could he forget about that? “Oh… Right, I remember it now.”

“But that was a while ago,” she immediately adds. “I wasn't in a good spot at the time… And just looking back, I guess I did like it.” Her right hand wraps its fingers around his own, with her words slowly forming a beam on her lips. “Especially since I heard it from you, Hanjae-yah… What we have is different.”

It's back up again, and more certain. He can't help but smile and chuckle with jubilance. His heart and mind can't help but profess their agreement as seconds would follow.

“And…” Another subject pops up in her mind. “I'm sorry if I didn't call you too often.”

“It's okay, Sieun-ssi.” Again, he tries to be smooth. “We were all busy with the new project. The partnerships were—”

“Not like that,” she interjects. “I mean, like outside work. That’s not an excuse for me.”

“It's fine.” His voice lowers, but her words are starting to soothe his spirits. “I'm just glad we're making time now, you know?”

Sieun moves her right thumb, rubbing his index finger. “I’m glad, too… If it'll make you feel any better, we'll switch things up next time.”

He cups the woman’s warm face and leans in to kiss her. In this sensation, they both feel more ease than tension before parting to see each other's smile. Captivated in pure bliss.

“I never get to do that whenever we’re outside…” Hanjae confesses; his expression and delivery emanate not only embarrassment but also sincerity. He knows he shouldn't feel embarrassed, but it's always been an inclusion whenever he tries to open up. He will just have to do some things that’ll put a little or a lot more hair on his chest. Unless she's not into that. “Or—now that I think about—at all.”

She pulls him in a much deeper kiss, craving for his sweeter and more tender taste not knowing he wants the same. Perhaps it's just their heart and hormones simply setting the mood, but their souls know. Whatever they're feeling is true. Neither of them say those words, but that’s fine. Labels are the least of their worries, for now... What matters most is how their actions speak louder than words. From mind and heart to body.

“Then do that more often,” she giggles, caressing his rough left cheek with her soft hand. For a second, he nuzzles into the warmth of her touch.

“As you wish, Princess.” He takes the woman's hand, indeed like a make-believe royalty, as they get off the bed and land their feet on the carpet.

“You wanna get some breakfast after?” she suggests.

“Oh, I’d love that. I believe breakfast downstairs is highly recommended,” he points out.

“I'll just take a shower first and then we'll grab a bite. Is that okay with you?”

“Of course, Vice President,” he nods. Sieun nudges his shoulder while shaking her head. Giving him a peck on his left cheek, she heads to the bathroom and closes it with a cackle.

After three minutes of texting Eunkyung and Mark on his phone about their concerns, he hears the door creak open. He looks ahead. From the bathroom, the shower begins to pour on a lower level. The curtain slides open; Sieun calls out to him with her same old kittenish voice. “Why don't you join me inside? Burn a few more calories. Hmm…?”

Leaving the door open, while keeping the curtain half closed, Hanjae places down his phone on the nightstand, stripping his undershirt down the floor before running straight to the bathroom, manifesting the raging bull he embodied last night, reinvigorated by his excitement to be with her—his red-headed princess—once more.

= = =

so yeah, although my main focus is on tripleS, I'll definitely write more fics from other groups that I like or follow. on that note, I'm really liking STAYC's comeback. in general, I think a lot of groups' comebacks this month are doing great so far. anyways, enough yappin'. thanks for the read and, like always, have a great day!

[archiewantsheetmetal]

First Official Hello From Archie!

HELLO Layton Nation! Welcome to my Layton blog. My name is Archie, and I go by he/him. I am a minor!

DNI if you:

- Are a pedophile

- Ship any minors with any adult characters. This is also pedophilia

- Are a zoophile

- Are a strictly 18+ blog

- Are homophobic, transphobic, racist, or xenophobic I just post Layton stuff here and interact with the fandom. This is my only Tumblr blog. I really like Professor Layton. I don't tag triggers or spoilers unless it's something major, like if it's very mild blood or if it regards a Layton reveal, but if anyone has an issue, they can come to me through dms or asks! I am not a scary person. Like at all. I love interacting with the Layton fandom and to be honest I am probably just as scared of you as you are of me. So don't be afraid to be friends! I love getting questions and requests! I just won't respond to anything NSFW. I do not reblog NSFW content. On Archive of Our Own, my username is Archierot! You can find any fics I may post there. Currently, there are only three published works on my page, but there will be more to come. My askbox is almost always open! I just may be a little slower to get to some of them, or if you say something very nice or funny, I might just keep it in there so I can look at it when I need to.

Taglist and friends below!

LIST OF MY FRIENDS!! MY LOVELY FRIENDS THAT I LOVE FOREVER!!

@casualfr1days!! My best friend DREWWW!!!!! ! ! ! ! ^^ AMAZING person all around and very very pretty art. THEY ARE THE REASON. I am in the Professor Layton fandom. drew it is ALL your fault. Wonderful to be around and I feel like I can talk to you about my bugs forever.

@justkillingthyme MY LOVELY BEST FRIEND THYME!! ^^ FRIENDLY KIND FOREVER!! I love their art and their writing!! It's very distinct and has inspired several of my own creations. I'm very lucky to be friends with them. Very funny person and joy to be around.

@jesterday00 MY BEST FRIEND SKEETER!! HI SKEETER ^^ I LOVE this person, their art, and their writing. Very very kind and very funny. I'm glad to have met you! Gives you a BIG fist bump.

@hotsaucewmilk BEST FRIEND HOTSAUCE!! !HLELO ^^ FUNNY GUY ALERT!!! GREAT ARTIST ALERT!! And he's also british so maybe he knows layton. idk. were investigating the matter

@toonypow BEST FRIEND BEE!!! HI BEE HI BEE ^^ GREAT writer. Has made me cry on Bsky. Wonderful art that I've seen.

@mysterysnail APPEL. OLIVE. YOU. ^^ shares a similar sense of humor to me. thank you. SSHAKES your hand. VERY FUNNY PERSON AND I'VE SEEN SOME OF THEIR ART!! VERY GOOD!!

@speedygoreman speedy... ^^ I AM still scared of you KIND OF. a little bit. BUT I THINK YOU'RE COOL. AND I LOVE READING THE STUFF YOU POST. KLG. UGH. UURGH. @huevobuevo you/. i remember you. ^^ you're realy fuckin funny man. best first impression. i miss you heuevo............. @constantpan1c ^^ hi!! friend!! yay!! funny kind nice. not part of the layton fandom but i listed them here too. giggle If I didn't include you on here, I'm probably scared of you and I'm not sure if you consider us friends !!

TAGS!

#archiereblogs - what it sounds like !! these are just reblogged posts. #important - probably important ! #archiesfavs - MY MOST FAAAVORITE POSTS!! HIGHEST HONOR I CAN BESTOW!! They go here so i can look at them later. #phantom railway au - the 1930s-esque depression au i created for professor layton! #askarchie - just stuff from my askbox #archiesart - all of my art!! I'm trying to do more of it. #inbox thyme - all of or most of thyme's asks. because theyre in there a lot! #archiestupid - shitposts. this might be considered art too but if its too stupid it goes in there. #archierants - me talking. probably includes all analyses ive ever done. #pl creature au - my mythical creature/monster au i created for professor layton! #archierot - ALL of my fics and fic related content! #archiedoodles - doodle request answers! #pl/professor layton - professor laytong stuff! THAT'S ALL I CAN FIND!! Some tags may not have any posts in them! That's because, moving forward, I want to keep my account organized. That's what the empty tags are there for! So I can use them from now on. I'll try to edit existing posts to include these tags if I see them. I'll tag the taglist so you can use it to like. find stuff. if you need to.

I hope you guys like my stuff! -Archie!