Omg I haven’t posted in ages. I finally finished 7/9 of my exams yay! I’ll be trying to post more regularly from now on so stayed tuned!! The ending of this was so rushed but I believe in your wonderful imaginations to make it on point.
Your shitty day started waking up. Thunderclouds rolled across the sky, making it its playground and threatened to pour rain at any given moment. But being dense and stubborn, you refused to bring an umbrella because umbrellas were for the weak. When you reached your workplace, your clothing and hair were soaked and your make-up ran like coloured tears down your shivering face. It did not help that through your white button up blouse, your pink bra, strung with hearts was clearly visible. And that’s when your shitty day became a shitfuckshit shittier day. Well, in a good way.
You arrived at work soaking wet thanks to the rain and your stubbornness. Sitting down on the swivel chair revealed itself to be a horrible idea as you looked down at the clear butt print. You heard a call for you so you stood up. You looked down at your unpresentable self but decided there was nothing you could do so you shuffled your way over to his office and knocked on the door.
Your hand rested on the knob as you hesitated. It only hit you then that you had never been called into his office. Putting on a brave face, you twisted the door knob and stepped inside. The room was untidy but cozy. Full-length windows reached from the floor all the way to the ceiling, letting the little sunlight of today. Cautiously, you made your way to the CEO with your head bowed and your hands clasped tightly in front of you. You could feel his scouring gaze scan over you, making you break out into a sweat. It seemed like eternity later when he finally spoke.
“Get out and change your clothes.”
His monotone voice resonated with authority even though the pitch hadn’t changed. You barely managed a reply before you scampered out of his office breathing heavily as if you held your breath for the entire time. Regaining your composure, you walked over to your desk, looking for any spare clothes you could have left. But there was none. I returned to his office. Returning to his office, you twisted the door knob and stuck your head in.
“Boss. I don’t have any spare clo-.”
My mouth freaking dropped open. Kim Namjoon, the CEO of this whole fucking company had his head thrown back with moans erupting from his mouth as his hands worked on his dick. You took a deep jagged breath, eyeing his impressive length. But as quickly as the thought popped into your head, you ushered it away. Closing the door with a slam, you stood there dumbfounded at the bizarre scene you had just witnessed. You leaned against the door, your mind processing what you had just seen. The door suddenly opened and an angry man grabbed your wrist and whisked you inside. You spun around and came face to face with Namjoon. His large hands gripped both of your wrists easily and pinned them against the door.
“What the fuck.”
You mouth quickly clamped shut. Rule number 69, never swear at the person that pays you. You looked up at his stormy eyes and held eye contact for what seemed like eternity. You was entranced by his gaze and when he bent to mesh your lips together, you seemed to have been paralysed if not by the intensity of his stare than by the embarrassing flush that was creeping it way up to your cheeks. His kisses were sinful like hell but felt like heaven. His hands trailed up your body to cup your face, tilting it. His tongue slipped past your lips and danced with yours. You tilted my head up and he pressed his body into your, rubbing the hard erection against your lower stomach. He loosened his grip on your hands and you pulled them away only to run them along his clothed body.
His ironed suit crumpled under your hands when he bit down on your lip suddenly, making you dig your fingernails into his skin. Your hands slid up his body, feeling his defined chest and stopping at the top button of his shirt, pushing the button out and repeating the process until the top of his chest was clearly visible. His mouth trailed down to your neck, leaving a trail of hickeys the whole way down. He kissed your collarbones and his tongue flickered out as if to sooth the skin before he bit down hard. You gasped and buckled against the door; grabbing his sturdy arm to hold you up. Shit, how was he this good? He smiled down at you gently and you wondered how the transformation happened so quickly.
“Can we continue?” He asked you in an almost husky whisper. He only needed a nod for confirmation before he licked his lips and eyed your pink bra.
“Let’s get this off, shall we?” His hands reached to unbutton your blouse and it seemed like an eternity before he peeled the wet layer of clothes off you. You shivered from the coldness of the air on your damp skin.
“We’ll warm you up soon enough.” He said with a smirk and reached behind you to unclasp your bra.
Tossing it on the ground, his warm hand enclosed around your breast, softly squeezing it. You moaned softly and he smiled in response.
“You like that don’t you? Tell me how much you like this…” He ducked his head down and you felt warm air brushing across your breasts. He started to plant open mouthed kisses on your breast as his other hand came up to fondle your already sensitive nipple. You responded with short gasps for air. His mouth trailed over to the other breast, giving it the same treatment. Warm breath surrounded your upright nipples before his tongue came out and flicked across them.
You let out a frustrated groan and subconsciously, your hands made their way to your pencil skirt and unzipped it, letting it fall to the ground. He eyed the wet patch visible from in between your legs.
“Already this wet? We haven’t even done anything.”
Your hands rubbed your clit and you whimpered. Namjoon smirked.
“Fine. Get on the table.”
You obeyed and walked over before sitting at the edge and taking off your panties. But Namjoon’s hands stopped you.
His hands held the sides of your panties and his lowered his head. The top of his hair brushed against your stomach and you let out a small giggle. He kissed your stomach, right above you panties and as his hands slowly stripped you of your underwear, his lips followed closely, planting soft fluttering kisses down. His lips came dangerously close to your clit and your breath caught in your throat but he ignored it and instead trailed kisses down your thighs. He let go of your panties and it dropped to your ankles. You kicked them off, spreading your legs.
He eyes your glistening core and his hands pumped his cock before positioning it at your entrance. His hard cock felt good between your legs. He held on to your legs and looked down at his disappearing cock as it slowly entered you. Your arms felt weak and at the pace he was thrusting into you teasingly, only going halfway, made you almost insane. Opening your eyes wider you looked at him with pleading eyes and thrusted your hips forward.
“Namjoon ahh, please.”
He smirked down at you. “Call me daddy.”
Your eyes nearly popped out.
“Do you want it or not?”
“That’s my girl.”
He thrusted into you and you felt your walls clench from the suddenness. He opened your legs wider and twisted his body a bit so he could hit you at a new angle. You cried out as you felt the tip of his cock scrape past your sweet spot. “Please Namjoon, faster.”
“Namjoon?” He questioned, slowing down his pace. You groaned in frustration and lied down on your back, squeezing your eyes shut as you pushed down your pride.
“Please daddy, fuck me faster.”
Without a response, he sped up and you clasped your hands over your mouth, trying to muffle the moans erupting. Your walls clenched as he shifted again, this time hitting your sweet spot directly.
“Yes, there… daddy.”
He groaned and sped up even more. He felt your walls clench before white liquid flowed out, decorating his workspace with patterns. He continued to thrust into you and came with a groan. His body visibly trembled and he rode it out. When he pulled out, your body felt empty.
You sat up with a moan and he eyed you warily.
“You won’t tell anyone right?”
“N-No.” You said with a blush forming on your face.
You started to pick up your clothes and put them on, all the while feeling his eyes on you. When your damp clothes were on again, you walked to the door saying “You should clean up boss. Or should I say… daddy?”
You turned around with a smirk and a wink before disappearing down the hallway.
a husband and wife can’t have kids so they kidnap a young teen to have their babies
Logan and Lauren had been trying for kids a while, it wasn’t that they didn’t have the money for IVF; but it just didn’t seem worth it. Not when Lauren had mentioned the cutie, she had seen walking home from school in her plaid skirt, and button up white blouse. Thats when they had decided, take her in. Add some fun to their sex life, and get a baby out of it. They could have two babies for the price of one.
Logan had it all set up, He pulled up beside her on her walk home from school in his mini van– Lauren was hidden in the back. “hey” he rolled down the window “Have you seen a golden retriever around here?”
You turned your head to see who had spoken - the voice was definitely boyish and slightly sullen to boot. Your eyes met glittering ruby irises and a pair of pouting lips fastened around the unlit stub of a cigarette. The face of the boy was the perfect manifestation of boyish youth - smooth, supple skin and long eyelashes that would earn the envy of any woman. His wavy hair was the color of fire; the lighting of the bar helped enhance that particular illusion with the way the gold lights caught the glossy strands. Glancing at his attire, you found him wearing a white button-down blouse under a black vest. If he didn’t look so surly, you would’ve thought he was Cupid.
“Aren’t you a little young to be smoking, kid?” you asked, filling another beer from the keg and handing it to the customer in front of you.
“I’m not a kid,” he snapped. You could hear the impatient tap-tap-tap of his foot against the metal ring of the bar stool. You chuckled and turned, leaning against the counter and looking up into his now slightly startled eyes. “I.D., please,” you purred, low and soft. Benny may have been fooled by this teen’s fake I.D., but you sure wouldn’t be.
Huffing, the boy reached into his back pocket and took out his wallet, whipping out a thin piece of plastic and handing it over. You took it and brought it into the light. The photo was of him, that was for certain. The birth date was just shy of legal drinking age and you raised your eyebrow as your eyes met his. The boy rolled his eyes.
“Look, fine, I won’t get a drink, but can I at least smoke? I’m legal for that.”
Sighing, you handed back his I.D. as you reached into your back pocket and took out a lighter. This kid wasn’t the first smoking customer you ever had - you just wished Angelo would make the joint a non-smoking gig. After lighting his cigarette, you turned away and returned to the paying customers. You whipped up a martini, a tequila sunrise, and a cognac on the rocks, smiling graciously as more bills entered your little tip glass.
The lounge was getting quiet - the night had grown long and it was only a Thursday; no weekend hours just yet. The piano in the corner was still drowned out the white noises provided by the tables full of patrons. Five more tables would need to go home before you’d be able to hear it again. Clouds of cigarette and cigar smoke mixed with the competing scents of alcohol - crisp vodka, fruity cocktails, and warm beer all mixing to create a smell that could only be simply called “booze”.
Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the kid take out a book - Dante’s Inferno - and began to read. It appeared he was deeply engrossed in the poem, paying attention to nothing and no one. You kept an eye on him as you continued to serve drinks, watching the clock slowly but surely wind down to midnight. True to his word, he never ordered alcohol. He only ordered a water, which he took sips of between pages. He seemed so strange - a boy wearing that particular mode of dress and simply reading at a lounge like yours was abnormal, even for you. Even weirder was the occasional moment where you knew, somehow, that he was watching you, his ruby eyes burning into your back and through your flesh.
When you informed everyone at the bar of last call, he didn’t move, keeping to his book. You walked up to him as the other patrons filed out and you placed a hand on your hip. He still didn’t look up.
“So, Theo,” you began, “it’s time to go. We’re closing up.”
He glanced at you. “I don’t recall giving you my name.”
“You gave it to me when you gave me your I.D.,” you responded smoothly.
He snapped his book shut and finished up his water after stubbing out his cigarette. Taking a coat that had been sitting on the back of his chair, he carefully slipped it on. You watched him do so as you cleaned up the bar and collected your tips.
“Where are you off to now?” you asked, finishing up your chores. Theo glanced at you again.
“What do you care? I’m just a kid.”
“Yeah, and I happen to get concerned about kids who stay up past their bedtime.”
Theo scowled at you. “Oh? And what about you? You, who carries a darkness in your heart?”
You blinked. Theo’s eyes seemed brighter and…did his pupils narrow? The room seemed a little darker than before and you felt cold through your thick blouse. Was the lounge always this quiet? You wanted to go and get your coat, but you couldn’t move.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You can’t hide your sin from me.”
Suddenly, he was behind the bar, his glowing, feral eyes boring into yours. He reached out his hand, his fingers about to brush your chest when you slapped his hand away. You bit your lip as you watched a smile paint itself onto his mouth. He was only a child. He had no idea what he was talking about. A small pinprick of fear curled up inside your chest and shivered.
“I know someone who can fix it,” he murmured, holding out his hand once again. His eyes seemed to gaze into your very soul - it unnerved you.
“Come with me.”
Silence reigned for no more than a minute before you slowly, carefully, placed your hand in his.
When you opened your eyes, you found yourself standing in front of a tall, dark skyscraper. The words “Stulti Laqueum” were cut into the black marble entryway and the panes of glass had all been tinted to prevent anyone from looking inside.
A squeeze to your hand reminded you that you were not alone and you heard Theo murmur, “Come. You don’t want to keep him waiting.”
He lead you through the darkened doors and you shivered as you felt heat reach out and caress your body. The lobby was completely devoid of life and there was only a small, white marble fixture that resembled something of a desk in the corner. The only thing opposite you was a single black door with an ornate gold handle. The wood had a gloss painted onto it, yet staring at the door made you feel as if you were being sucked into a black hole.
Theo turned the handle and led you inside. The room was dimly lit - large torches were the only source of light within it. You couldn’t see anything else in the room save for seven large doors standing opposite you. Standing at ten feet high, each door had either a gold or silver handle. Each door was a different color - crimson, emerald, bronze, sapphire, plum, amber, and saffron. No light could be seen under the door and you felt a tug on your heart. Your breath quickened and you looked at Theo.
[ Clarke had tried to dress up a little again, to befit her role as Costia. Someone aiming to be better and classier than she really was. It felt… strange. Wearing a white button up blouse and tight black slacks. She’d added some gold bangle bracelets and soft makeup, her hair up in a tight bun.
She’d looked at herself in the mirror and not really recognised herself.
Not that she could deny that she looked good. Maybe Costia’s style wasn’t so bad.
She was nervous, though, hand gently rotating the cardboard sleeve around her coffee cup. Yesterday had been fairly disasterous for Clarke Griffin. She didn’t really want Lexa to look at her like that again. What was she even doing with Lexa anymore anyway? Feeling lost was not pleasant.
Clarke looked up at the door to the coffee shop again and sighed when there was still no sign of Lexa. True, she was still early herself, but maybe she should have gone to pick her up after all. She was probably still lost in her work.
Still, Clarke tried to keep her posture straight as she waited, remembering that she was playing a part and determined not to fail this time. ]
When a guard picked her up and ordered her to put the set of clothes on, a school uniform she has always wanted to try on before but never gotten chance to do so since she was homeschooled, Delilah was curious as to why but still followed the instructions. Now, she was being led down the corridor and her questions were still left unanswered. Clad in the schoolgirl uniform, a white button up blouse that hugged her curves, plaid skirt that was cut mid thighs and white thigh high socks with matching black shoes, they finally stopped on a certain room. Upon seeing the number on the room, Delilah took a step back but the guard pushed her forward and urged her to knock on the door. Terrified as to what could be waiting on the other side of the door, she knocked on the door softly and hoped that he won’t be around.