Japanese!Actress Anon Meme!
J!ACTRESS ANON MEME!!!
You know how there are so many different JE!fic anon memes out there? Well, what about their leading ladies? They deserve as much fic love as the boys do. Which is where this comes in!
Request in the comments! Anon is on, IP logging is off.
Who I Want: (Girl or girls or girl/girl or girl/boy or whatever related to the ( Read more... )
You know how there are so many different JE!fic anon memes out there? Well, what about their leading ladies? They deserve as much fic love as the boys do. Which is where this comes in!
Request in the comments! Anon is on, IP logging is off.
Who I Want: (Girl or girls or girl/girl or girl/boy or whatever related to the ( Read more... )
“Hey, Kiri-san, why did your smell change?” She looks at him quizzically.
“It changed?” He stalls for time. He’s sure he knows what she’s smelling-if she can smell a lie, there’s no way she could miss arousal. Anyone can smell sex after the fact.
“Yes,” she nods seriously. “It’s a smell all guys have, but sometimes it gets stronger. And it just did, on you.”
Is she pulling his leg? “You can’t really not know what that is, can you?”
Wanko gives him a glare worthy of a puppy whose toy has just been stolen. “Are you making fun of me? Since when is your nose so strong?”
Sighing, he looks around and ducks into an empty alleyway, because he’s not having this conversation in public and he knows Wanko will badger him about it the rest of the way home. While they’re at it, his arms need a break so he sets her down. She looks at him, with irritation and confusion warring for control of her facial expression.
“What are you doing?”
He’s at a loss for words, so he figures he’ll just demonstrate and leans in to plant a hard kiss on her lips. She gasps and stiffens, and for a moment he’s certain she’ll pull away and slap him, but instead her arms wrap around his shoulders and she kisses back tentatively.
Walking her back until her back is against the wall of the building, he deepens the kiss and earns a soft little moan in response. Her lip gloss is sticky against his lips, and he knows it’s getting on his own face, but he’s too excited over not being rejected to care. He kisses down her neck, careful not to leave a mark where the guys at work can see, and her arms tighten even as she tips her head back to let him.
When one of her legs comes to wrap around his to pull him closer, he takes it as an invitation to run his hand up her thigh, dipping his fingers under the elastic of a garter. Wanko gasps again, whimpers, but he’s not surprised when she pulls away, because if she doesn’t recognize the smell of arousal she must be a virgin.
“Kiri-san, we’re the police,” she says in her serious policewoman voice. “We can’t go committing public indecency.”
The thought of being the laughing stock of the police department is nearly enough to kill Kirishima’s erection completely. He picks her up again with a groan, noticing in the process that she looks a little dejected. But then she pauses and sniffs the air thoughtfully.
“I smell a love hotel.”
That’s all the invitation he needs, and so they go rushing down the street, Wanko sniffing and pointing in utter seriousness until they tumble into a love hotel, Kiri swearing that one day he’ll navigate with a smartphone like a normal person.
He lets her pick the room, something with more pink and lace than any man could admit to liking, but it seems appropriate for the situation. On the way to the elevator, he notices with relief that there’s a vending machine with some plain but serviceable dresses.
With a lot of effort, he sets her gently on the bed, and if she notices his shaking arms she doesn’t say. She sits up to take off her shoes, one thigh exposed by the ripped skirt as she does, then scoots back on the bed with her stockinged feet until her head hits the pillows, and gives Kiri a come-hither look.
So he does, toeing off his shoes and crawling over her, and then he’s kissing her again, taking a moment to enjoy her lips before returning to where he’d left off with her neck. Her hands tangle in his hair when he starts to unbutton her blouse, just down to where it meets her vest. Bodice? He’s really not sure what it’s called, and he’d rather kiss the top of her breast than think about it.
She squirms underneath him, legs coming up to wrap around him again, and before she can get bored, he slides down to kiss the skin of her thigh, just above the garter. He bites the lace, pulls it away from her skin with his teeth, not far enough for it to hurt when he lets it snap back but enough to make her gasp. The fingers in his hair arch and cling as he kisses slowly up her thigh to nose at her panties.
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